#i’ve got a bit of a headache from looking at ao3 for so long so i’ve really got to go to bed soon

[batrogers]

Headaches

[Wild & Hyrule, hair-care, soft comfort, very G-rated, ~800 words]

Also on AO3 now!

Link sat at the edge of the river they were using for baths and fought down the urge to scream. He pulled down the messy bun at the back of his head and even that felt bad. He’d started putting it up a few days ago, when he could tell it was starting to get matted again. There’d been too many people around, and too much to do to really sit down and take the time... and last week had been a bad one, where he had headaches and fatigue so strong raising his arms had been too much.

One thing after another after another, and now he had this rat’s nest to undo...

He still wasn’t feeling all that much better.

If he were home, he’d just go find Zelda. He wouldn’t even have to ask her; she’d just look at him and gesture for him to sit and take care of it, like she had after he freed her from the castle. It was good for her too, she’d said. She found it grounding, and she liked taking care of him after everything that had happened since...

He had a comb. He’d gotten his hair wet. He even had the fucking horse shampoo with him, but the task felt so daunting and someone was going to walk up on him and...

Someone did walk up, but, in the way he always had, Hyrule just waved one hand and cracked his neck before stripping and dropping into the water without a second look. He didn’t even seem to notice Link’s messy hair. His was never a mess, as far as Link could tell, although it was shorter. He thought about cutting his hair (for likely the hundredth time since he’d woken up) and...

He couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to pretend to be someone he wasn’t, and if he looked like he used to again –

Best not to tempt fate, and his own hollow mind.

“You okay, Wild?” Hyrule asked.

“Do you know what the others are up to?” Link asked, rather than try and answer.

“Sparring again.” Hyrule yawned. “I didn’t sleep well, and you know what Twilight and Warriors are like.”

They’d be busy for an hour, Link thought, and looked at Hyrule again. They were pretty good friends, and he’d always been nice. And his habit, of studiously avoiding any note of his hair was...

Hopefully he was right. “Hey, Rulie?”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“Could you help me with my hair?” The words almost strangled him to say. He couldn’t say much more than that, but he didn’t have to. Rulie looked up, startled, then just nodded.

“Oh? Yeah sure. You’ve got a comb and stuff – what’s this?”

“Horse shampoo,” Link said, and reconsidered: the stuff they’d heard about his Hyrule was worse than his sometimes. “You have seen shampoo and stuff, right?”

“Usually I just used, uh, nothing great.” Hyrule laughed. “Zelda’s got better stuff at the castle, although I’ve never had anything to do with the stables. What happened?”

Link could feel him pulling his hair back and carefully picking at the ends. It was a bunch of little tugs, but nothing too painful. One particularly sharp pull left him flinching and Hyrule grunted an apology. He didn’t repeat the question. It hung, quietly between them as Hyrule slowly worked his way through the tangles one bit at a time.

“Was your hair ever this long?”

“A couple times,” Hyrule admitted. “When I was really young, mostly. Some of the ladies in the towns would sit me down and help when it got really bad then I was living with Zelda and they helped me keep it short.”

Link grunted his agreement there. That made sense, and he hoped that was why he was being so nice about this. If he’d had a hard time with his hair before...

Admittedly it sounded like Hyrule had been a literal child, but. Still.

It was something.

“...I didn’t want to ask if you were having a bad time,” Hyrule said, eventually. “I figured you’d let us know when you needed help.”

Link swallowed. “Normally Zelda helps me with it. It was just a bad week. I’m okay. I had a headache.”

Hyrule hummed another few notes then and Link could feel the comb going from almost the nape of his neck down now, the tangles slowly unravelling under his hands. They weren’t done; there was still a ways to go, but the gentle strokes felt good. The tug and pull tingled in a good way, and Hyrule poured more water from a jar over his head.

“Turn your head?” He murmured, and Link closed his eyes and did so.

By the time the others had finished sparring and caught up, Hyrule was brushing his hair through the last few times, perhaps a few more than necessary but Link had no wish to tell him to stop. His headache was, finally, gone, and he could just enjoy a few moment’s rest.

#LU Wild #LU Hyrule #Wild & Hyrule #fluff #comfort #hair care #asking for help #Linked Universe #LU Fanfic

[luwritesomething]

Billy Loomis x Reader: even the strong ones break.

Words: 1315

Warnings: bad parenting, swearing probably, not proofread, i can’t remember lol

Summary:    It was the first time ever you had seen Billy cry, and it was certainly shocking to see him fall apart so miserably, but that wasn’t stopping you from trying to make him feel better. He had been strong for a while now, and everyone needed a break from time to time, even Billy Loomis.

Author's note: OKAY SO MY SCREAM OBSESSION IS STILL STANDING, and i’ve been writing in ao3 instead of in here because i wanted to get away from my responsabilities and numerous dodge mason & wednesday show request. sorry, i got overwhelmed, but i’m back, and i’m bringing all of my pieces in ao3 with me. here you go. you can find the link to ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39896499

Criticism is appreciated and request are open! Hit that anon button and tell me your idea! The list for the characters I write is HERE.

Your head hurt from reading with a bad light for too long. The simplicity in the beauty of reading every night before going to sleep had taken you a bit too far, but what could you say? You weren’t giving up on reading just because of a light headache, you were strong enough to handle it.  

Still, you had enough for tonight and you decided to put your current read aside in order to already go to sleep. Your eyelids felt too heavy to continue and you could be stubborn, but not dumb enough to fall asleep while reading in an uncomfortable position that would have you complaining the next day. Your arm reached out for the switch next to your bed, turning the lights off after you had gotten in bed, ready to get some good quality sleep. It was perfect: the bed felt nice, your pillow was cold, the sheets were smooth against your skin, it wasn’t too hot nor too cold in your room and there were some nice, comforting sounds outside the window.

There were noises outside your window. You jumped out of the bed once your brain was able to process the fact, without needing to wonder who it could be. Stu had never snuck through your window, which didn’t sound that weird knowing he didn't have what it took to speak softly after sneaking into your room — Billy, however, was all about crawling through your bedroom’s window and being secretly soft. He had justified his passion for sneaking in with the adrenaline of maybe getting caught, but you also knew it kinda had to do with the quick of energy he got whenever he saw you. 

You unlocked your window as fast as you could and opened it, immediately stepping aside to let Billy sneak in, knowing he would need no help to do so. He had become a real expert with that, and that’s the reason why your alarms got set off when you saw how Billy almost tripped with his feet once he was in your room. 

“Well, it’s dark in here.” He said, and even his voice sounded off. More dry and less playful than usual. “Were you sleeping?”

“I was about to,” you shrugged before turning around to switch the lights on. Once there was light, you carefully glanced at him, noticing the exhaustion and anger on his face. “Everything alright, Billy?”

Billy nodded, looking away. “Yeah. Just got bored from the fighting, that’s all.”

Of course, that was the reason why he was acting so strangely. It had taken Billy an eternity to confess his parents had been fighting a lot lately, and he was a worse actor than he thought he was — since he had opened up, all the signs of him acting different instantly gave away how hurt he felt, even though neither you or Stu thought he would ever admit it. Billy was too proud for that, but you sometimes just wished he would let his pride aside.

“Can I—?” Billy’s voice broke before he could finish his question. You immediately looked at him, alarmed and shocked when you discovered tears in Billy’s cold eyes. He looked as vulnerable as he did annoyed with himself. “Fuck!”

“Hey…” You walked up to him and put your hand to his arm, not wanting to overwhelm him. The physical contact actually made him sob and break down in furious tears, but you knew it wasn’t your fault “Oh, Billy”

You pulled him in for a hug, comfortably wrapping your arms around him. Billy leaned into your touch, incapable of stopping his crying as you tried to comfort him and ground him. It was the first time ever you had seen Billy cry, and it was certainly shocking to see him fall apart so miserably, but that wasn’t stopping you from trying to make him feel better. He had been strong for a while now, and everyone needed a break from time to time, even Billy Loomis. 

“It’s so bad, Y/N,” sobbed Billy, pressing his head into your shoulder. “They’re filing for divorce”

You caressed his black hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you. “I’m so sorry, Billy.” Your hand traveled to his back, rubbing circles there.

Billy shook in your arms, and you guessed it was anger. If you had learned something about him during the last months was the amount of fury and anger he had inside him, a type of anger not even football allowed him to break out from. He snapped from time to time, snickering and saying things he regretted later, and he would bottle up his feelings and hide them in the darkest place — Stu had told you to get used to it. You just thought it was sad —. Being able to see him like that was kind of comforting, knowing he wasn’t holding back from his feelings anymore, but it was also terribly painful, because it showed how much he was hurting and that hurt you too.

“Talk to me, Billy.” You murmured, holding him tightly to make sure he knew you were there for him.

He shook with his head, and you mentally cursed his mentality of keeping everything to himself. As he kept shaking, you kept stroking his hair and drawing grounding circles on his back. You didn’t make him move until he had kept shaking, pulling him slightly away from you to check how he was, to see into his soul through his truthful eyes. 

Billy had stopped crying, no more tears were coming out of his dark eyes, but he kept sobbing like a kid who had fallen while riding his bike. Your hand came to his face to cup his cheek, lovingly caressing the clear skin with your thumb.

“Stay for the night.” The whisper came out of your lips without you having to think about it, and Billy instantly nodded, looking away. He hated that you were seeing him like that.

The hand that was cupping his face fell to his hand, so you could carefully grab it and guide him to your bed. Billy joined you in the bed once you had already laid down, and it surprised you when instead of laying down next to you, he crawled towards you and found a space for himself in between your thighs, finally laying down with his head pressing against your chest. Half Billy’s weight was on you, but thanks to the way he had laid down it was definitely manageable. Stu was the one who did that, claiming the space between your thighs, while Billy usually played the role of the big spoon by your side. 

“Hey, Billy,” you muttered through his infinite sobs, muffled by his head pressed against his chest. Still, you knew he was listening to you. “I love you. A lot, okay? You know that, right?”

In sync with a sob, Billy nodded his head. You didn’t need for him to say it back, not at that moment at least. But you guessed he really needed it to hear it from you, and you guessed right. 

Billy’s sobs grew quieter with the time passing, but you kept holding him and playing with his head in order to distract him. You could still, from time to time, hear a muffled sob that let you know he hadn’t still cried himself to sleep. It actually took you some moments to realize he had fallen asleep when he did, but the way he breathed calmly and heavily and the silence gave it away after some minutes. Only when you were completely sure Billy wouldn’t wake up, you reached your arm out to switch the lights off again, this time ready to sleep. Before closing your eyes, you leaned in to kiss Billy’s forehead, murmuring again the words i love you, wondering if he could hear it in his sleep.

#billy loomis #billy loomis fic #billy loomis x reader #scream #scream 1 #scream 1996 #scream franchise #reader is inclusive #lu writes #lu writing #my writing #fanfiction #ao3 saw this first #please request for scream characters i love them #requests are open

[dem-obscure-imagines]

The Book Keeper

Kili x Reader

Fandom: Tolkien

Summary: On an unsuspecting summer afternoon, Gandalf the Gray shows up on your front porch and, much like he did to Bilbo, sweeps you up into an adventure you never could have imagined. With the knowledge of things to come, will you be able to change the ending?

Note: For my sanity, we’re pretending the book describes the dwarves the way they look in the movies. Also I’m gonna deviate a bit from book canon and dip my toes (more like my entire leg) into movie canon just because things flow a little better that way. Also also, I took some liberties with the Dwarvish courting customs. I will probably also be uploading this to AO3 at some point, separated into chapters for easier navigation. 

Bear with me and behold my Magnum Opus.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, the Hobbit spoilers, alcohol/drinking, some angst but a fluffy ending, mentions of injuries, kind of a slow burn but very fluffy

Word Count: 45k

Reader Is: Female, from our world, 23 years old

Stuck. You were stuck. You read the last few sentences back to yourself, but they didn’t make anything click. You’d lost your steam and now, you were stuck once again.

Writing was a lot harder than it looked, that was for sure, but writing something fantasy? You were finding the task nearly impossible. When you’d started the project several months before, it had seemed so fun. You’d grown up on Narnia, on Lord of the Rings. Building your own fantasy world would be quite the task, you’d known, but perhaps you didn’t know quite how time consuming it would be, let alone when you added in the characters and their characterizations, which fantasy creatures to include, how the magic would work, how the weapons would work and so on and so forth.

Thinking about it too much gave you a headache, so you sat back in your chair, closing your laptop. Maybe you needed a break. Some more caffeine, maybe, some stretches for your strained neck and sore wrists.

You stood up and walked to the kitchen to make yourself an iced coffee, filling a glass halfway with ice before pouring in some cold brew and milk. You slipped a bamboo straw into your drink and stirred the liquids until they were better acquainted with one another.

You looked around the kitchen, thinking. This was your parents’ house. You’d moved back in with them after graduating college until you could figure out what to do with your degree. Your dream, of course, was to be a full time writer, to adventure, to find inspiration for a great story, but for now, you were working part time at the local book store, writing your stories in the time you were at home.

Most days, you were left to your own devices, your parents out of the house and the place all to yourself. It was quiet. Kind of lonely, if you were honest, and so you spent most of your days escaping into movies, books, and your own fantasy world. It was kind of monotonous. You couldn’t even count how many days you’d lost this way.

“Is this what burnout feels like?” You wondered, chuckling and shaking your head. It probably was, you reasoned. You’d spent so long at school that now that you were done, you didn’t really know what to do with your life, and…even if you did, you didn’t have the energy to do it.

You let out a long sigh, which was interrupted by the ringing of your doorbell.

Maybe it was the lap desk you’d ordered on Amazon, you thought in passing, walking in that direction. But when you got there, there was no box sitting on the porch. Instead, there was a tall man in a gray cloak and a gray pointy hat standing there.

“Um, hi?” You asked, your eyes narrowing at the stranger, who you were beginning to believe wasn’t just someone cosplaying Gandalf.

“(Y/N) (L/N),” He grinned. “I’ve been waiting to meet you for quite some time, now.”

“Gandalf?” You asked, and he nodded, seemingly proud of your answer.

“Hello, dear girl.” He tipped his hat to you. “May I come in?”

And while there was some part of you telling you this was simply too good to be true, another, more desperate part of you knew if he was real, he wouldn’t be here without good reason. “Uh, yeah, of course. Come on in.”

So, you made him a cup of tea and the two of you settled in to the couch in your living room. Gandalf looked around, amused by your house. He’d seen many houses in his time, although none quite so…modern. It wasn’t often he got the pleasure of travelling to your realm.

“So you’re…the Gandalf. Gandalf the Gray. From…the Tolkien books and stuff.” You wondered, sipping your iced coffee, still in a state of total shock. Maybe you’d fallen asleep at the keyboard and this was nothing more than an exhausted hallucination, cooked up by your writer’s block.

“Quite the same.” He nodded, a glimmer of amusement in his wise eyes. “I’m sure you’re wondering what I’m doing here.”

“Yeah, I…I am.”

“You see, I’m in need of some assistance. For an adventure. One you are…quite familiar with.”

You stared at him for a long time before remembering you should say something. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Oh I think you do.” Gandalf took a long sip from your Captain America mug. “Is there not a book you read in your youth that you wished…had a different ending, perhaps? One you loved very dearly, but…one of the characters you cared for had their own ending cut short…”

You gulped and thought for a long moment, the pieces clicking into place, despite the fact that you were afraid to put them into words. “Are you talking about…?”

His eyes glimmered. “You know what I’m talking about. If you want to come with me, take me up on this offer, all you need to do is follow me out that door.” He pointed to the front door and you stared at it. It didn’t look special, altered, but you knew his magic worked in mysterious ways.

“Why would you want me?” You asked quietly, suddenly unsure. The hope in your chest began to dwindle. “I’m…I mean look at me, I’m not much of an adventurer. I’m a writer. A college burnout. I don’t…” You chuckled pathetically. “I don’t know what I’m doing with my life.”

“You know, I had a Hobbit tell me this very morning that he wasn’t much for adventures either.” He shrugged. “But I believe you know the outcome of that as well. All of this time travel business is rather complicated, isn’t it?”

“What’ll my parents think if I just disappear? How long will I be gone?”

“When I bring you back, it’ll be as though you never even left.” Gandalf reasoned, tilting his head. “And after all, won’t an actual adventure help your story along?”

He drove a hard bargain, that was for sure.

You glanced down the hall towards your room. “Should I…grab my book, then?”

He winked. “You’ll need it.”

You walked to your room and scanned the shelf where you kept your fantasy books. There it was, nestled in there next to Narnia. The Hobbit.

You’d loved the book as a tween when you’d be forced to read it in middle school, but in all honestly, you hadn’t really touched it since. You’d watched the movies, sure, but they were hardly accurate. Your fingers tingled as you took it off of the shelf, and when you got back to the living room, Gandalf was gone.

“Gandalf?” You called. No response. “Gandalf?” Nothing again.

You looked down at the book and back up at the front door. It hadn’t changed at all. It looked ordinary. And yet, you felt a tug in your chest pulling you to see if what the wizard had said was true.

You chuckled and sighed. Or, you’d made the whole thing up in your head. Gandalf had never been there and never would. He didn’t exist.

And then you looked at the coffee table only to find your mug still sitting there, full of steaming tea.

And so, at the risk of feeling like an idiot, you walked to the door, opened it, and stepped over the threshold…into a cozy hobbit hole.

Immediately, you looked back, wide-eyed, expecting to find your front door from the outside, but instead seeing the wide, round door that stood at the entrance of Bilbo Baggins’ home. There was plenty of chatter inside, the deep voices of several rowdy men and one panicked, flustered hobbit.

“H-hello?” You called into the house softly, tentative. You walked a little further, following the voices. “Hellooo??”

Faintly, you heard a now-familiar voice. “Kili, would you go fetch our guest? Seems she’s a bit late.”

You heard a few voices murmur “She?”

Your heart raced as you stood there, waiting. You heard heavy footsteps, and then finally a figure came around the corner. There he was. Kili, the Dwarven Prince, the youngest of the dwarves in the company. He stood a head shorter than you with shoulder-length raven hair and a dusting of stubble across his chin. He was handsome, very much so, in fact. Just the way you’d always imagined him to be.

“Kili.” You whispered, the breath stolen from your lungs as you stood there, bewildered. This was real. He was real.

His breath hitched and he stared at you for a long moment, eyes sparkling as he looked up at you. “I-I’m sorry, have we met before?”

You blinked and shook your head. “Oh. Uh, no. Sorry. I’m (Y/N).”

Kili smiled, charismatic as ever. “You must be this Book Keeper Gandalf speaks of.”

“I guess I am, yeah.” You nodded, staring down at your shoes, shy all of a sudden. You’d been dreaming of this moment for years. Meeting him. Changing things. And yet, being here, doing it…it was terrifying to say the very least.

Your eyebrows furrowed when you got a good look at yourself, though. These were not clothes you were familiar with. Well, you were in a way, you supposed. These were the clothes you’d described the main character of your book to be wearing; a long orange hooded cloak, leather armor on top of a flowing white top. Around your right ring finger, its point facing outwards, was a claddagh ring with a green gem set into it.

You reached up to see if your ears came to a point, and surely enough, they did, just like the Sunset Fae at the heart of the fantasy story you’d been writing. Weird.

“We’re all in here.” Kili motioned behind him, to where he’d come. “Are you from around these parts?”

“Oh! No, I’m from…pretty far from here, actually.”

“Whereabouts?”

Gandalf saved you from having to answer that question. “Dwarves, this is (Y/N) (L/N). The Book Keeper. She’s come all the way from another realm to help you on this journey.”

The rest of the dwarves murmured amongst themselves.

“What does that mean, Gandalf?” One of the dwarves asked.

“Another realm?” whispered another.

“It’s true, what he says.” You confirmed, nodding and letting the words come to you. “Where I come from, there are many tales of this adventure, the things that…have yet to unfold for you. I’m pretty familiar with them. Gandalf thinks I’d be able to steer you in a better direction at some points.”

“Prophecies?” Asked a deep, stern voice. Looking at him, a regal dwarf with dark brown hair, a streak of gray near the front of his head. Your heart raced. He was Thorin, no doubt, and he was every bit as intimidating as you’d heard he’d be.

“Sort of. Where I’m from, it’s presented as a work of fiction, actually.” You nervously tucked a strand of hair behind a pointed ear.

He stiffened. “Are you an elf?”

Your eyes widened. “What? No, I’m not. I’m, uh…”

“She’s human.” Gandalf stated. “Where she’s from she’s human, that is. Our realm’s magic has changed her, it seems.”

“Human?” Kili whispered. Until he spoke, you’d nearly forgotten he was standing beside you, staring at you. In fact, his eyes hadn’t left you since you walked through the door.

You nodded, taking in the company for all that they were. Thirteen dwarves, one hobbit, and one wizard who had whisked you away from your normal life into something much more exciting, it seemed. You couldn’t help but get a little choked up, looking at all of them. They had so much left to endure, to survive, to experience.

“I want to help.” You assured them, your voice cracking and a tear slipping down your cheek. “I want to help you. If you’ll have me, your highness. I ask nothing in return. I’m merely��along for the adventure.”

Thorin thought for a long, hard moment. You waited on pins and needles until finally, he relented, “how could we refuse an offer like that?”

***

The next day came and with it, the beginning of the adventure. The dwarves loaned you weapons. Namely, Kili had. In fact, he hadn’t really taken his eyes off of you since the two of you met. It had been less than twenty-four hours, and he already seemed endlessly fascinated by you.

“Tell me again, what is a telephone?” He asked, amusement heavy in his tone.

“It’s a little device that lets you talk to someone really far away.” You explained.

“Incredible.” He chuckled. “And a camera?”

“It’s like a little box that captures memories. Preserves them as a picture so you can look at them later. Sometimes they’re even built into the phone.”

“Did you bring one with you, by any chance?”

You laughed and shook your head. “No, I didn’t, unfortunately. I’m not sure it would have stayed like that when I came here anyway.”

“Right.” Kili was quiet for a few moments as you walked on. “Do you think a telephone would work between realms?”

“Probably not. Why?”

“How else will I keep in touch with you when you go back?” He was flirting, now.

“Maybe Gandalf would bring our letters back and forth.” You suggested, partially joking, but the look it put on his face made you think it wasn’t a joke to him.

“You’d write to me?” He asked sincerely, catching your gaze with his own.

“Of course I would. I’ve been reading about you for years. It would be nice to make you read about me for a change.”

You caught Balin grinning in front of you, an amused, knowing look on his wise face. You’d always admired the oldest of the company. He was wise and kind, looked out for the rest of the dwarves like they were his kids. You hoped maybe at some point, that kind of affection would be turned to you as well.

Soon, you all came upon Gandalf, who had the horses for the journey. Each dwarf claimed a horse while Gandalf pulled you aside, a large bag in his hands. He gave it to you, a glimmer in his eye.

“I thought you could use some supplies for the journey. Some things that might bring you comfort in a strange and unfamiliar land.” He winked.

“Thank you.”

“Gandalf, it seems we’re a horse short.” Thorin informed the wizard. Bilbo had just arrived, and seeing as you weren’t a part of the plan until the day before, it made sense there wasn’t a horse for you. But that did raise the question: what were you going to do?

“Oh, are we?” Gandalf raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. He counted absentmindedly while the dwarves saddled up. “Well, I suppose one of you will have to take the Book Keeper with you, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“I’ll take her!” Kili offered a little too enthusiastically and a little too quickly. Fili laughed at his brother’s display. He’d never seen him behave this way before. He’d had fleeting crushes, sure, but he’d never been desperate like this. He met your eyes, cheeks reddening and shy. “I…if you’d like me to.”

You grinned. “Sure, Kili. Thank you.”

“You seem smitten.” Gandalf commented quietly and you looked up at him.

“Have been since I was like twelve, but I think you knew that when you asked me to come.”

He laughed. “I know many things.” He replied cryptically. “And I knew we’d need someone with a strong motivation to turn the tides.”

“Well, let’s hope I’m the girl for the job.” You chuckled, slinging your bag over your shoulders. “Thank you. For everything.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Gandalf chuckled.

You took a peek inside the bag he’d packed you and sitting right on top was a Polaroid camera. It looked out of place in Middle Earth, but you had a feeling it would come in handy.

“What is that?” Fili asked, he and Kili wandering over to you.

“This.” You pulled it out and held it up. “Is a camera.”

“A memory device!” Kili said, excited. “How does it work?”

“Like this.” You turned the camera so it was facing you, Kili, and Fili with Gandalf and some of the other dwarves standing in range, and you pressed the trigger. The camera clicked loudly and then a few moments later, a black square spit out the front of it.

You handed the undeveloped photo to Fili, who looked at it quizzically.

“This is blank.”

“It takes a second to develop. If you shake it, it helps.” You instructed him, and he took your advice, shaking the photo until slowly, figures took shape on its surface, the colors brightening. “See?”

“It’s us!” One of the other dwarves said excitedly, looking at what was unfolding amongst the party’s youngest members.

You grinned. “Yeah, it is.”

***

Once the excitement had died down and everyone was starting to get onto their horses, bidding the Shire one last goodbye, Kili helped you up onto the back of his horse with a strong tug. You adjusted yourself, an arm tentatively settling around his waist.

“You’re going to have to hold on tighter than that, Book Keeper.” He smirked, pulling your arms a bit tighter around himself. “I would hate to have you fall off and hit your pretty head.”

“I’ve never ridden a horse before.” You confessed, cheeks flushing red.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “How do you travel, then?”

“We have…um, motorized vehicles. No horses involved, usually.” You tried to explain in a way he would understand.

“Your realm sounds strange.” One of the other dwarves noted. You were pretty sure it was Ori, but there were a lot of names. Aside from the handful of them that you could identify easily, it was easy for them all to fall to the background. It was your personal mission, however, to make sure you knew them all pretty well before you left.

“Yeah, it kind of is. Especially compared to Middle Earth.” You chuckled.

“Can you fight, girl?” Thorin asked, skeptical of this girl his nephew already seemed too fond of.

“Admittedly, no. There’s no real reason to fight where I’m from, most of the time.” You told him, honest about it. You had no reason to make an enemy of the king of Erebor.

“We’ll teach you how to take care of yourself.” Balin assured you. “Kili there is an excellent archer. I’m sure he could teach you a thing or two.”

“I did archery at camp once.” You reminisced. “I was awful at it.”

“Oh, nonsense.” Kili shook his head and looked at you over his shoulder, smirking and confident. “We’ll make an archer of you yet.”

“We’ll give you sword lessons with Bilbo.” Dwalin joked.

“Good. I’ll need all the lessons I can get.” You chuckled to yourself.

***

The first night on the road, you all stopped just before sunset and set up a camp. You helped the boys unpack things, helped cook dinner, and before long, you’d all settled around a fire, eating dinner and talking amongst yourselves.

The fire’s warmth felt good on your skin, and once the sun went down the rest of the way, the stars in the sky were stunning. You exhaled a long breath, letting go of the stress you’d been holding in. One day down and nothing had gone wrong.

Gandalf was at the edge of camp, smoking his pipe. You felt safe with him there, like nothing could go wrong as long as the wizard was present. You knew, though, that at some point, he’d have to leave, and you’d be more or less on your own.

You pulled the book out of your bag and flipped past the beginning, reading by the fire’s light.

“Checking our progress?” Kili asked, sitting beside you, his leg touching yours and his warmth seeping right through your clothes.

“Something like that.” You chuckled, nodding. You flipped the page and brushed a piece of hair out of your face.

“How are we doing?”

“It’s hard to tell. Everything is so…condensed. There are weeks or even months between some of the major plotpoints.” You informed him, closing the book and letting it sit in your lap. “We should be okay for a while, I think.”

“And then what?” Asked Bilbo, obviously very nervous about the possibilities of this adventure.

“Trolls.” You replied, scrunching your nose.

“Oh.”

“I have to figure out how much I’m supposed to tell you…what things need to happen and which ones can be avoided.” You shook your head. “It’s a tough call to make.”

“I trust you to make the right decisions.” Thorin said, his voice stern, but a little warmer than it had been since he had met you.

“I’ll do my best.” You promised. The chill of the wind caused you to shiver a bit and Kili took notice immediately.

He got up, walked to his supplies, and returned moments later with one of the blankets he had packed, draping it across your shoulders. You were a lot warmer, but you weren’t sure it was entirely from the blanket.

“Thank you, Kili.”

“Of course.” He nodded, sitting beside you again. “You know, you haven’t told me how you knew my name.” His voice was quiet, soft.

You crossed your legs beneath yourself, curling further into his blanket. “What do you mean?”

“Back in the Shire, even before we introduced ourselves to you, you knew who I was.” He looked at you, his eyes sparkling once more in the firelight. The way the orange glow lit up his features made him look so…princely. Sometimes you forgot he was royalty. Times like this, though, it was impossible to not remember.

“Oh. Yeah. That.” You chuckled, looking away from him and instead at the fire in front of the two of you. “I’ve had this book since I was about twelve years old. I’ve read it a handful of times…I guess I could just tell it was you. It’s going to take me some time to put the rest of the names to the faces, though.”

Kili smiled, a warmth blooming in his chest. You didn’t recognize most of the others, but you recognized him. This was shaping up to become quite the adventure indeed.

***

Travelling so much after you’d been comfortable staying in one spot at home was, admittedly, a lot to adjust to. The first few days had taken their toll on your body. You were sore all over from riding on horseback for long hours and, additionally from sleeping on the ground every night. Some nights, you got lucky and the group would stop in a grassy area to make camp, but most nights, it was hard rock beneath you, which wasn’t very forgiving.

One of the days brought the group to a village, where you were able to replenish supplies in the market. Kili bought a beginner’s bow and a set of arrows to teach you to shoot with. He and Fili had been appointed as your unofficial bodyguards, as well as your teachers and they were taking the job very seriously.

They took you out hunting with them, and Kili thought it would be the perfect time for your first archery lesson.

“So what do you remember of your archery lessons in your realm, Book Keeper?”

“Not a lot.” You chuckled. “I remember how to notch an arrow, I think. It was hard to pull the string back.”

He smirked, handing you the children’s bow and quiver full of rudimentary arrows. “It just takes practice is all. We’ll have to build up strength in your arms, work up to a full size bow.”

“You think I’ll get good enough for that?”

The prince winked. “I know you will.” He searched the trees and spotted a sturdy branch that would be within your reach so you could retrieve the arrow once you shot it into the bark. “Aim for that branch there, the one with the moss growing on it.”

“Alright.” You pulled an arrow from the quiver and notched it, slowly pulling back the string. You tried to account for distance, but when you released the arrow, it arched pathetically and skidded through the fallen leaves on the ground.

“You’re tense.” Kili noted, taking a step closer to you, his eyes the tiniest bit flirty. “Do I make you nervous?”

“A little.” You admitted, laughing. “I mean, all of you do, not just…” You paused. “Being here is a lot. I’ve looked up to you guys for a long time. I’ve wanted to come here for a long time and never thought I would ever get the chance to. I guess I just don’t want to let you down.”

“You couldn’t disappoint me even if you tried.” Kili said. “I know Uncle can be a bit…stern sometimes, but I don’t think it’s untrue to say we’ve all been fascinated by you. It’s obvious where you’re from is quite a bit different than here, but you haven’t complained once, as opposed to the hobbit, who complains on the hour.”

You laughed a bit at that. It was true, Bilbo had been rather fussy and timid thus far on the journey.

“You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before, you know that?”

You smirked. “Really?”

“You’ve just got this…spark.” He shrugged, snapping a twig beneath his boot as he took another step closer to you. “Every time we turn a corner, it’s like your face just lights up with wonder. It’s like you’ve never seen a tree before.”

You burst into laughter. “We have trees in my realm, Kili.”

“Do you? I didn’t know.” He teased.

“Where I’m from, I have to travel quite a ways to see really beautiful places, and here, there’s a new one every few miles. I’m trying to soak it all in before I go back, I guess.”

He hummed, chuckling to himself. “Yeah, well, it can be dangerous sometimes, too.” He motioned to the bow in your hand. “Notch another arrow.”

You did as you were told and Kili stood behind you, examining your stance. You felt a large, rough, warm hand on your shoulder, guiding your elbow a bit lower. It was like your skin was electrified where he touched you, goosebumps pricking up on your arms, your heart racing at his proximity.

“Relax this hand.” He advised, his fingers curling around the hand on the bow. “Touch your thumb to your lip. And take a breath in.”

You inhaled.

“Release.”

You let go of the arrow and it shot right into the branch Kili had told you to aim for. “Woah!”

“There you go! See? You’re a natural!” He praised, that brilliant smile of his on his face. “You’ll be slaying beasts in no time.”

“You think so?”

He met your eyes, his smile softening into something more meaningful. “There’s not a single doubt in my mind.”

***

A few weeks had passed. You had managed to help the party avoid the conflict with the trolls, but had still wound up in Rivendell, in Elrond’s care. Thorin didn’t much care for elves, but he was managing to keep control of his temper.

Elrond had prepared a great feast for all of you, a celebration to welcome you to his land. And thus, you got to sleep in a proper bed for the first time in weeks. In your chambers, there had been a dress laid out for you, silky and orange, as well as an intricate elven circlet with a few gemstones on it.

You changed into the dress without help and headed down to the celebration, where the others were already seated at a table. Immediately, you felt fourteen pairs of eyes on you as you made your way to the only empty seat left, the one beside Kili. Huh. You wondered how that had happened.

“There she is!” Gandalf exclaimed excitedly, causing your already red cheeks to flush even redder. You didn’t like being the center of attention like this.

Gandalf, Elrond, and Thorin had a table to themselves, the rest of the party at a longer table.

“The Keeper of the Book, I presume.” Elrond said, tipping his head. “Pleasure to meet you. Gandalf has told me all about your journey from another realm to be here.”

“It’s an honor to meet you Lord Elrond.” You told him, heart racing as you met yet another hallmark character who had made a mark on your young adulthood. You curtsied. “I apologize if some of your customs escape me. I’m…not very familiar with them, admittedly.”

“That is quite alright.” He smiled. “I’m sure it has been quite the learning curve already.”

“I brought you a gift.” Gandalf confessed, presenting a glass bottle from beneath the table, a black cherry cream soda you were fond of back home.

You gasped, excited for even a taste of home after all of the time that had passed. You knew things had barely begun, though. It would be a long time before you would be able to go to a grocery store again. “Oh my gosh. Thank you so much! I’ll cherish it.”

You walked to the seat that had been left for you and sat down.

“You look different. Did you do something with your hair?” Ori asked innocently.

“Yeah, I pulled a few strands in the front down.” You chuckled, twirling one around your finger. “I’m also wearing a dress instead of pants, so that might be it.”

“Dressed up for these elves, but not for your traveling companions?” Gloin teased and you chuckled, twisting off the metal bottle cap and taking a sip, relishing in the sweet taste.

“My apologies. I’ll be sure to get all dolled up for our next hike through the mud.” The dwarves all laughed. “It kind of reminds me of my prom dress, actually.” You noted, admiring the shimmering elven fabric.

“What’s a ‘prom?’” asked Fili.

“It’s a dance, a big formal event in my realm. The boys ask the girls to go with them as their date and it’s a big deal. There’s always drama about who’s asking who. It celebrates your coming of age, kind of, because it’s at the end of high school. Everyone dresses up really fancy and dances all night. It’s a fun time.”

“You went to this prom? Someone asked you?” Kili asked.

“Funny story, actually. Someone did ask me to prom. Serenaded me with this big dramatic song and everything; it was a little much if you ask me, but we were friends, so I was excited to go. I got my dress, got everything ready, and then a few weeks before the dance, he told me he didn’t want to go with me anymore and asked someone else to go with him instead.” You said, taking a long sip of your drink.

“How dare he disrespect you like that?” Kili shook his head. “One would be lucky to have the opportunity to take you to an event of that kind!”

“Yeah, I was kind of upset about it. My friends ended up taking me with them, but I still got left alone during the slow songs.” You shrugged. “It was a while ago, though. I don’t think about it a lot anymore.”

Kili huffed. “Good. He doesn’t deserve your attention.”

“Is that ale, lassie?” Dwalin asked, distracted by the bottle you’d been sipping from.

You laughed. “Oh, no. It’s soda. It’s like a sweet, sugary drink from home. This one is black cherry flavored.”

Kili hummed curiously and you turned your attention to him again.

“Do you want to try?”

He looked from the bottle to you and his eyes softened. “You’d share with me?”

“Yeah, of course.” You shrugged, sliding the bottle to him.

Kili took a tentative sip, smiling as soon as the sweet drink hit his tongue. “You’re right. It is quite sweet.”

“Do you like it?” You asked and he nodded.

“I do, but…you should enjoy it. I have a feeling it’ll be a good long while before you get another.” He slid the bottle back to you, his warm hand lingering on yours for a moment. You couldn’t fight the blush that overtook your cheeks, you only hoped it wasn’t too noticeable to the other dwarves.

After the feast, there were some other festivities. The elves started dancing and playing music, moving with grace. Most of the dwarves had had a few drinks too many by that point. You could tell Kili was a little drunk, too, and Dwalin had told you earlier that the youngest dwarf was a bit of a lightweight.

At the moment, he was across the room with Fili, drinking and laughing while you took in the festivities. It was nice to see them have fun together. You hoped you’d be able to ensure they would have fun like this for many, many years to come. It saddened you to think of the end of the journey. That was the whole point you were here, of course; everything would be more or less smooth for the dwarves and their wellbeing until that final battle. But one wrong move, one missed moment and it could all be for nothing.

The more you got to know the dwarven princes, and their uncle, for that matter, the more you knew it would devastate you if you failed.

“Are you alright, Book Keeper?” Balin, perhaps the only sober dwarf at the moment, asked, sitting beside you at the edge of the party. “You seem distracted.”

“I’m alright, yeah,” you nodded, taking a sip of blueberry-flavored mead. “Just got a lot on my mind is all.”

“About the journey? Or are you homesick?”

“Definitely not homesick.” You laughed. “I don’t know what it is about this place, but…I kind of feel like I was always supposed to be here. Born in the wrong realm or something.”

“You fit in well.” Balin agreed. “The company has taken to you fairly quickly as well. Especially, ah,” he got a mischievous glimmer in his eye, “a certain dwarf prince?”

You blushed, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, it seems he has.”

“Can’t say I blame him. Beautiful woman from another realm comes here and saves us from trolls and who knows what else…” Balin chuckled.

The two of you looked across the room, where it looked like Fili was giving his brother one serious pep talk.

“Kili hasn’t had much luck in matters of love, I’m afraid.” He told you, his voice softer, as to not be overheard. “His looks are a bit unorthodox by Dwarven standards.”

“Really…” You murmured, shocked. “Well, by human standards—of my realm at least—he is…very handsome.”

“You think so?” Balin grinned.

“I have since the very beginning.” You told him. “He’s…” your voice got quiet. “He’s incredible.”

“Sorry to interrupt, my lady.” One of the elves came up to you, offering his arm. “Might I have this dance?”

When you looked up, Kili was about halfway across the dance floor, frozen on his way to you, staring at the elf who had offered you his arm.

“I’m flattered, really, I am.” You told the elf. “But, um, I’ve promised this dance to another.”

“I understand.” He bowed and made his leave.

Once he saw that the elf had left you, Kili’s eyebrows furrowed and he continued crossing the dance floor to you.

“You turned him away.” Kili stated, sounding confused. “Why?”

You shrugged. “I’ve had my eye on someone else all night.”

“Oh. I see.” Kili’s face fell and he started to turn, but you grabbed his wrist.

“You, Kili. I’ve been waiting to dance with you.” You chuckled.

Immediately, that handsome grin of his found his face and he took your hand, taking you out on the dance floor. His arm settled around your waist, pulling you close, while the other hand held yours. Despite the height difference, it worked.

“I haven’t found the time to tell you yet, but…” He paused, staring at you like you were made of starlight. “You look beautiful tonight, (Y/N).”

You smiled and your heart pounded. “Thank you, Kili.”

“Of course. I hope this dance can begin to make up for the ones you spent alone that night.” He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, his large hand warm and gentle. “I wish I could have been there to make it right.”

“I wish you could have been there, too. You would have been an awesome date.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, of course. It’s not every night a girl gets to dance with a handsome prince.” The way you said it was kind of teasing, but you meant it. He really was handsome and he literally was a prince.

He chuckled, blushing at the sentiment. He was quiet for a while before he said, “It feels like you were meant to be here.”

“In Rivendell?”

“In Middle Earth.” Kili clarified. “With our company.”

“I was just talking to Balin about that, actually.”

Kili smiled kind of sadly before continuing. “You don’t think you’ll be able to stay, do you? When all of this is over?”

Your breath hitched and you met his eyes. “If I’m given the chance…I will. In a heartbeat. But I’m not sure if that’s how this works.”

“Okay.” Kili nodded, willing to accept that answer. “Well, for the record, I hope you do. Things would be boring without you around.”

“I hope so too.”

***

The days ran into one another, as did the weeks. You were accustomed to the road now. You spent most of your time riding with Kili, but every so often, you rode with some of the other Dwarves as well. Balin liked to trade stories with you, Dori and you would talk about what kinds of wine you preferred. They were all good company and they took care of you, looked after you.

Kili had been continuing his lessons in teaching you to shoot, and you’d made quite a bit of progress. Fili taught you to use a sword and how to properly put on armor. You had many long chats with Bilbo about the Shire and warned him to send him a message back home to ensure his family members didn’t sell his furniture while he was traveling back home.

You even got to know Thorin a bit, although he was still very guarded, especially to the two outsiders of the group. You knew eventually those walls would come down, but you also didn’t blame him for having them; he’d been through a lot.

It was night once again, and you were trying to sleep, but it was a particularly noisy night. The crickets were especially loud. Kili was taking the first watch with Fili, so, as he did whenever he was on watch, he put his extra blanket atop you to keep you warm.

“She’s so beautiful when she sleeps…” You heard Kili murmur to his brother, convinced you were out for the night.

“Have you told her yet?”

“That she’s beautiful? Yes, countless times, brother.” You could imagine the dwarf’s confident grin as he said it.

“Not that. Did you tell her that she’s…your One?”

Now that was news. You didn’t think Ones were a thing. Not as far as you knew. You were certain they were something cooked up by the fan community in your world, not something that was real.

You heard Kili sigh before replying, “I don’t even know how to begin to tell her that. Not when I don’t even know if she’ll still be here after we fight the dragon.”

“Then you should be making the most of the time you have with her while she’s here!” Fili whispered passionately. “Not every dwarf is so lucky, you know.”

“I know that.” Kili was quiet for a long moment before relenting, “I’ll tell her. As soon as I can figure out how.”

“Good.” Fili said, sounding proud of his efforts. “It seems she really cares for you, brother.”

And though you were tempted to say something, to break the silence and tell him then and there, you didn’t want the brothers to think you’d been eavesdropping. There would be a better time to tell him; you only hoped it would come sooner rather than later.

***

With your new revelation, every day became a new adventure, a waiting game in which you would see whether or not Kili would confess to you the way he felt for you. Looking back on all of the evidence, it seemed especially obvious. Right from the very beginning, he’d been enamored by you and the world you came from. Now you knew why.

This was, of course, alongside the usual adventure of running from monsters, in this case, a group of goblins. Although you knew it was important for Bilbo to get the ring, and it therefore needed to happen, you still weren’t particularly looking forward to it. The trolls, you had been able to evade with the logic that the elves in Rivendell would give you whatever weapons the dwarves would have recovered from the Troll cave anyway, which they had.

You’d all slept in a cave to escape the storm raging outside, bedrolls close together. Kili slept facing you. Every once in a while, you’d open your eyes and look at him, to make sure he was still there. One of those times, he was looking at you, too.

“Can’t sleep?” He whispered, his voice deep with exhaustion.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this cave…” You admitted, something sinking in the pit of your stomach. You felt bad for not telling them, but it had to happen and you knew if Thorin had known, you’d all have set up camp somewhere else.

“Mmm.” Kili hummed, nodding. He scooted his bedroll a bit closer to yours and your heart leapt in your chest. Maybe this would be the moment he’d tell you, finally, the thing you knew he’d been holding in for so long. “Well don’t worry your pretty head too much, Book Keeper. Whatever happens, you’ve got thirteen fiercely loyal dwarves here who will do anything to protect you.”

You nodded, exhaling a shaky breath.

“You never did tell me what that ring means.” Kili said, drawing attention to the claddagh ring, still wrapped around your finger. “That’s a beautiful emerald. Did someone from home give it to you?”

“It’s a claddagh ring. I don’t have one back home, but it just kind of…appeared on me when I got here.” You admitted. “I’ve always been fascinated by them. When you wear it like this, on the right hand with the point facing outwards, it means you’re looking for love, but you haven’t found it yet.”

He was quiet for a moment, nodding. His hand reached out, his fingers brushing yours, warm and calloused. They were warrior’s hands, and seeing his with your own just felt right. The contrast between you was perfect. “What would happen if you…found love?”

“Then you flip it over so the heart is upright.” You told him. “And if you get engaged, it moves to the other hand.”

“I quite like that.”

You chuckled softly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He smiled.

A cold wind blew into the cave and you shivered, pulling your blankets closer.

“Come here.” Kili’s hand wandered from yours and instead pulled you closer to him.

You surrendered to his warmth, to his scent of leather and campfire and pine. His hand cradled your head, combing through your hair with gentle fingers. It did calm you down enough to finally get some decent sleep for the night.

But just before you drifted off into slumber, you heard Kili whisper, “Sleep, Amrâlimê.”

And you did get a few hours of quiet peace before the floor of the cave opened up beneath you.

Thus began your long descent into the goblins’ cave. The company screamed all the way down until you were met by hundreds of terrifying goblins, shuffling you all to the feet of their king, a massive, horrifying thing who looked at you all like you were their next meal.

“What do we have here? Thieves? Spies? Assassins?” The king said. “Why are you here dwarves?” His eyes fell on you. “And an…elf?”

“Close enough.” You muttered, heart absolutely pounding in your chest. You were pretty sure you were about to pass out from the shock of it all.

“Bring the tall one to me. And search them all. Every crevice.” The king ordered, and one of his henchman kicked you in the back of the knees, forcing you to the ground with a pained yelp, dragging you over to their king, who hoisted you off of the ground by your hair.

“Don’t you dare touch her!” Kili yelled, struggling against the goblins that were holding him, but it didn’t seem to stop the other goblins from beginning to search you. “DON’T TOUCH HER! LET HER GO NOW!”

“Ohhhh, the youngest dwarf has a soft spot, does he?” The goblin king laughed, holding you in front of his face to get a closer look. “I can’t begin to see why.”

“Let me go, you big ugly bitch!” You squirmed, kicking the goblin king straight in the eye, causing him to flinch and drop you onto the ground, hard. You groaned and tried to get your bearings. Luckily, you were close enough to the dwarves that they were able to tug you back behind them. Gloin grabbed your leg and dragged you into the middle of the company again while Bifur and Bofur helped you to your feet. Your head hurt from the hair pulling.

“OW! She’s a feisty one.” The goblin king rubbed his eye and pointed at you with a hideous finger. “Fetch the torture devices. We’ll start with her.”

“Over my dead body you will.” Kili readied himself, eyes dark and voice as intense as rumbling thunder.

The other dwarves all took up a position of attack to protect you. Even though their weapons had been taken, they were still willing to fight for you.

But they didn’t get the chance to. At precisely the moment you needed him, Gandalf busted through the wall of the cave, stunning the goblins for a few moments with blinding light and giving the dwarves the chance to pick up their weapons.

The battle broke out. You did your best with the weapon Dwalin hastily shoved into your hand, but for the most part, you just followed the rest of the dwarves, keeping an eye on Kili and dodging the goblins that came at you. He fought harder than you had ever seen him, an intense fire burning in him. It was, perhaps, the scariest and most exhilarating experience of your entire life.

One of the goblins’ claws scratched your arm and you winced, swinging your sword at him and taking him out. The group reconvened on a bridge only for it to collapse beneath you, sending all of you plummeting, plummeting, plummeting down to the bottom of the cave. You laid there on your back, pretty sure this was what a cracked rib felt like. You sputtered and tried to lift your head from the hard surface beneath you.

“(Y/N)?” You heard Kili’s voice as the others began to get their bearings. He looked through the group, becoming more panicked by the second. “(Y/N)?!”

“I’m here.” You groaned weakly, raising your hand so he could find you. “I’m okay.”

“Thank Mahal.” He let out a relieved sigh walking to you and helping you to your feet. “A-are you hurt?”

“I’m okay.” You nodded, out of breath with tears in your eyes. Your knees wobbled, but he held you upright, supporting your weight. Then your eyes widened, remembering. You looked up and sure enough, more goblins were climbing down towards you. “We have to go.”

“Towards the daylight!” Gandalf insisted, leading the charge out of the cave and into the light of the nearly setting sun.

Once you all were finally able to stop, you collapsed to your knees, catching your breath. Kili knelt beside you, looking you over.

“I’m okay.” You told him. “I’m nauseous and definitely bruised a bit, but I’m okay. Are you?”

He reached up and brushed the hair out of your face, his hand pulling your face down towards him. He rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and letting out a long, shaking sigh. “I’m okay now.”

“Gandalf, um…” You reached into your pack and pulled out the book, using your bookmark to open to the chapter you’d all arrived at, still quite out of breath from the whole ordeal, but still focused on the adventure and the group’s safety. “You might want to call the Eagles now.”

“A very good call, Book Keeper.” Gandalf nodded, counting the dwarves before getting a moth’s attention.

You looked around the group and noticed one was missing. Bilbo. “Guys, where’s Bilbo?”

“I think he slipped away before the goblins grabbed us.” Nori said while the others started frantically looking around for him.

“I knew it. I knew he’d run right back home at the nearest opportunity.” Thorin said, shaking his head. “We will not be seeing our hobbit again. He is long gone.”

“No. He isn’t.” Bilbo walked out from behind a tree, appearing seemingly from nowhere. “I fell into a cavern. It was difficult to find a way out. I’m sorry.”

Thorin hesitated for a moment before looking at Bilbo. “My apologies. I just thought—”

“I know what you thought. I’m…not quite acclimated to this lifestyle. I miss my books and my reading chair and my hobbit hole. That’s my home. That’s why I’m here. Because you don’t have one; it was taken from you. And if I can…I want to help you take it back.”

The company shared a long, warm moment in the sun, which was interrupted by the sound of the wargs on the horizon.

You groaned. “Great. Right on schedule.”

“You knew—” Fili realized.

“Yep.” You nodded, exhaling a breath. Kili pulled you to your feet. “I know a lot I’m not supposed to.”

“Out of the frying pan…” Thorin started, his voice wary of the oncoming danger.

“And into the fire.” Gandalf motioned forward. “Run!”

So, once again, you were on the move, running to the edge of the cliff, away from the angry, snarling beasts on your trail. The group climbed up pine trees and just before the wargs arrived at the base of the tree, so did the Eagles.

“A very good call indeed, Book Keeper.” Thorin praised.

You chuckled. “Thought the group might prefer to not be torn apart by giant wolves.”

You got onto the back of one of the eagles, followed quickly by Fili and Kili, whose arm fastened around you, holding you in place. You looked at him as soon as he touched you, not quite surprised it was him. It always seemed to be him.

“Breathe, Amrâlimê.” He spoke softly, the word cradled so gently on his tongue. “You can breathe now. I won’t let you fall.”

“Okay.” You nodded, adjusting to a slightly more stable position on the eagle, your arm wrapping around his back for extra support. You took in the sights of Middle Earth. It was absolutely gorgeous from this high up, especially now that you were up and out of harm’s way.

“Are you okay?” he asked again.

You nodded and looked at him, admiring the way the sunset framed his features. Leaning forward, you pressed your forehead against his and closed your eyes for a long moment, repeating his sentiment from earlier. “I’m okay now.”

“Good.”

It was quiet for a long moment before you asked quietly. “What does that word mean?”

“Oh…it’s not in your fancy book?” He teased, a cheeky smirk gracing his handsome face.

“It’s not.” You confirmed.

His eyes softened, the wind blowing through his silky dark hair. “I think you know what it means.”

You tilted your head, eyes exploring his own. “I think I do too…”

***

A few hours later, the company arrived at Beorn’s house, tucked into the woods. Gandalf went with Bilbo first, instructing the rest of you to come in small groups spaced about five minutes apart, as to not overwhelm the skin-changer with guests all at once.

Finally, you rolled up your sleeve to look at the cut on your arm. It didn’t look deep, but it did look dirty. You didn’t even want to know where that goblin’s claws had been. If you weren’t careful, you’d get an infection.

“Let me see it, girl.” Balin said, motioning you over. You walked to him and sat on a large rock, letting him look over the wound. “He got you good, didn’t he?”

“Looks like it, yeah. It doesn’t hurt too bad anymore.”

“You’re hurt?” Kili asked from somewhere behind you.

“She’s alright, Kili.” Balin assured the prince, a knowing twinkle in his eye. “We’ll get her cleaned up, lad.”

Fili pulled Kili off to the side while Balin and Oin tended to your arm, putting a disinfectant that stung pretty bad on it before wrapping it in gauze.

“Thank you.” You told them sincerely.

“And thank you. I have a feeling our injuries would have been a lot worse had you not told Gandalf to call the Eagles when he did.”

“Yeah, I figured the rest of the journey would probably be a bit easier if I didn’t get a leg ripped off by a giant wolf.” You chuckled, shrugging.

“How are things with Kili?” Balin asked, his voice incredibly quiet.

You glanced over to where Kili and Fili were standing, talking very passionately about something. They were definitely out of earshot, though.

“Can you keep a secret?” You asked him, heart racing.

Balin nodded, his eyes kind. “Of course, dear.”

You took a breath and let the words fall out of your mouth all at once. “I think I’m falling in love with him.”

Bofur perked up when he heard this, turning around with a huge grin on his face. “I knew it! I heard you two last night having a little chat.”

“I forgot you were on watch.” You chuckled, cheeks burning. “I…I don’t know. I think he feels the same, but—”

“He feels the same.” Balin took your hand in both of his. “I’ve known that lad for his entire life and I’ve never seen him so enamored with anyone before.”

Bofur agreed. “Seems he had a rather rude awakening when the goblins almost had their way with you.”

“Yeah…” You thought back on that moment. You’d never seen him yell like that before, never so angry, and all because you were in danger.

“We already consider you one of us, lassie. Not just anyone would be brave enough to kick a goblin king in the eye.” Dwalin said, coming from behind you and putting a strong hand on your shoulder. “And if you feel strongly for him, you should ask him to court.”

Your eyes widened. Ah yes, the ever-elusive dwarven courting customs. “How do I do that? No one’s ever explained it to me.”

The other dwarves chuckled.

“That explains a lot.” Bofur smirked. “Tell you what, we’ll—”

“(Y/N), Fili and I are leaving.” Kili told you, motioning in the direction of Beorn’s house. “Would you like to come with us or wait for the next group?”

You looked at Balin, who nodded, encouraging you to go.

“Go with the lads. We’ll speak yet.” He promised.

You walked with Kili, glancing back at the three of the dwarves who now knew exactly how you felt about their prince. You only hoped it wouldn’t spread through the rest of the group like wildfire.

***

When the next morning came, Beorn, who was a spectacle in and of himself, served a hearty breakfast for you, Gandalf, Bilbo, and the dwarves. It was a beautiful morning, fog lingering in the trees, sunlight streaming through it.

For the first time in a long time, you felt utterly safe. You knew nothing would happen while you were at Beorn’s house. In Mirkwood shortly after…that was a different story altogether. But for the day, you were safe from goblins and wargs and whatever else was lurking out in the distance.

Part of you wondered if Bilbo had gotten the ring, if it had been worth not warning the others of the perils of that specific cave, but you knew you couldn’t ask him. Not now at least.

You sipped a mug of warm tea Gandalf had made for you, its steam gently waking you up. The mug was very large, as was everything in Beorn’s house, which seemed to make the dwarves look impossibly small, and, you hated to admit it, very cute.

“You sleep okay?” Kili asked, mouth half-full of scrambled eggs.

You nodded. “I slept fine. Did have some weird dreams, though.”

“About what?” Fili asked, perking up.

“I was at a school for wizards in this massive castle and the stairs were moving and I couldn’t get to class.” You told them, chuckling. Maybe Hogwarts was real too, somewhere. After all, Middle Earth was.

“We almost got killed by goblins and you’re having nightmares about school?” Bofur asked, incredulous.

“She’s taking this Book Keeper thing to new heights.” Ori added, laughing.

“I’ve been out of school for almost a whole year now and I’m still having nightmares about it.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “I really don’t think they’ll ever stop.”

“How long are humans from your realm in school?” Dori asked.

“We start school around age five, sometimes sooner. We graduate high school at eighteen, and then if we choose to go to college after, most graduate around twenty-two or twenty-three.” You told them, causing Kili to promptly choke on his drink. “Are you okay?”

“How old did you say you were?” Fili checked again, his eyes wide.

Dwalin slapped Kili’s back until he regained his composure.

Thinking about it further, you weren’t sure age had ever come up with the dwarves. “I’m twenty-three. Why?”

They all shared looks between each other, some laughing softly, others looking genuinely shocked.

“Guys, are you okay? How old are you?” You asked, heart racing. “Dwalin, how old are you?”

“I’m a hundred and sixty-nine years, lassie.” He said.

“Oh my god.” You muttered softly, a hand on your mouth. “Seriously? The whole time?”

“He’s being genuine, Book Keeper. Dwarf aging is quite different than that of men.” Balin told you, trying to be gentle.

“I’m only eighty-two if that makes you feel better.” Fili offered, his eyes sincere.

You stared at him. “It does not.”

“And on that happy note, I believe I’ll borrow the Burglar and the Book Keeper for a moment.” Gandalf said, a mischievous smile on his face as he stood from the head of the table.

“Perfect timing.” You said, grabbing your mug and following after him. Bilbo walked beside you, so you looked down and asked. “How old are you?”

“I’m fifty-one.” Bilbo replied.

“See, that seems more reasonable.” You laughed, still in disbelief. “A hundred and sixty-nine…”

Gandalf led the two of you to Beorn’s gardens, which were quite lush and beautiful, filled with all manner of plants. A few chickens wandered the property and wildflowers grew along his cobblestone fence.

Bilbo bent down and picked an acorn off of the ground, tucking it into his pocket. You grinned. Cute.

“I’m merely here to check your progress. How is everything going?”

“Well, I’d say.” Bilbo said, sounding a bit unsure. He looked up at you for insight.

“We’re looking good on my end.” You nodded. “These next few days are going to be rough, though.”

“Undoubtedly.” Gandalf nodded. “The two of you should…formulate a plan together before leaving for Mirkwood. I’m sure some teamwork could help smooth things over.”

“I think so too.” You nodded.

“Excellent. Discuss. I will see you in Erebor.”

“Where are you going?” Bilbo asked.

“I have some unavoidable business to attend to, I’m afraid. But all of you are in good hands.” Gandalf assured him, nodding before walking back into the house to say goodbye to the other dwarves.

As soon as you and Bilbo were alone, you asked him, “Did you get it?”

He looked puzzled. “Did I get what?”

You wiggled your ring finger, holding up your ring.

He thought for a moment and then nodded, confirming. “I did, yes. Was I supposed to?”

“Yes. Good.” You exhaled a sigh of relief. “Don’t tell the others. But…you’ll need to use it on occasion. As you see appropriate. I don’t want to make you overthink it.”

“Good. Alright.” Bilbo nodded, considering. “What was this working together Gandalf was talking about?”

***

When night fell, some of the dwarves started a fire. Balin and Bofur pulled you aside. Kili and Fili were off scouting the edge of the property to make sure nothing was coming for the group, giving you the perfect opportunity for a lesson.

“What do you know of dwarvish courting, Book Keeper?” Bofur asked. “Anything?”

“Admittedly, not a lot. I know there’s braiding involved, but that’s about it.”

“That’s a good start, lass.” Balin smiled. “So, when a courtship begins, generally, the dwarrowdam, or, the woman, in this case, will ask the dwarf she fancies if she can braid his hair.”

“They make a courting bead to present to them, to braid into the hair. Something meaningful.” Bofur added.

“Okay.” You nodded, taking in the information.

“If he feels the same way, usually he’ll already have made a courting bead and will present it to her in return. If he doesn’t have it ready quite yet, he’ll present it to her as soon as it is.” Balin explained. “But the woman is always the one to initiate, unless, of course, it’s two men, in which case the oldest of the two will begin the courting.”

“And then they’ll go off somewhere private and braid the beads into each other’s hair. It’s quite romantic.” Bofur smiled.

You stared at the ring around your finger, the claddagh ring you’d carried with you the entire journey, the one Kili seemed so fascinated by. You thought it would look rather beautiful braided into Kili’s dark hair. “Would…um…” You slipped it off of your finger and handed it to Bofur. “Would this work? As a courting bead? I’d have to resize it of course, but…”

He smiled knowingly. “This is the special ring you explained to him in the cave?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“I think that would be perfect, dear.” Balin nodded. “We can teach you how to make the bead once we get to Erebor.”

“Okay, perfect. It won’t be long now.” You told them. “This next leg of the journey is going to be rough, as a heads-up.”

“That’s what I feared.” The eldest dwarf nodded.

Bofur handed you back the ring and you put it on again. “We’re in good hands, though.”

You nodded, serious. “I’ll do my best.”

***

The next day, you all stood at the gates of Mirkwood and a sinking feeling settled deep in the pit of your stomach. You did not like this. Not one bit.

“Are you alright?” Kili asked, his hand on your arm. “You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I know more than I’m supposed to again.” You told him, your voice soft, scared.

He looked up at you, taking a step closer. “Anything you can tell me?”

“Not at the moment, no.” You shook your head. You turned towards him, suddenly more serious and remembering something from the Hobbit movies you’d seen long ago. Up until this point, everything had been by the book as far as you knew. But in the case that something leaked over… “So, if, um…theoretically of course, if there’s a bunch of orcs shooting at us at some point on our way out of Mirkwood, don’t take any chances that would let you get shot in the leg with a poisonous arrow, okay?”

Kili’s eyes widened. “What? I’m—”

“It probably won’t happen. Most likely. But there’s one version of the story where it does and I just…I don’t know what I’d do if you—”

“I won’t.” Kili grabbed your arms with his large hands, stopping your rambling. “I promise you I won’t take any chances that would let that happen.”

You nodded, exhaling a sigh. “Okay. Good.”

“Does anything like that happen to me?” Fili asked, scared suddenly.

“No.” You assured him. “I’d tell you if it would. I’m not letting any of you die.”

You all set out through the gates, doing your best to stick to the paths. Things got very disorienting very quickly, however.

The group began to wander, confused, forgetting things and losing track of time. All hints of what direction you were going were gone, so you followed whichever dwarf happened to be in front of you at any given moment.

After a short time, you began to question everything. It was hard to tell how much time passed. You all wandered, going in circles, the dwarves bickering between themselves about which way was which. You felt utterly dizzy, confused and unable to ground yourself in the moment.

“(Y/N), are you in your right mind right now?” Bilbo asked you, grabbing your attention.

“Not particularly.” You admitted, shaking your head. “Do what you have to do. I’ll see you on the other side. Stick to the plan.”

“Plan, what plan?” Ori asked.

“There’s a plan?”

“What’s a plan?”

They went around and around while Bilbo climbed up into the trees to get a bearing on where you were. Most of them didn’t even realize he had left. And the next thing you knew in your bleary state, there were gigantic spiders descending upon all of you.

***

When you came to, Bilbo had cut you and the others free from where you’d been suspended up in the trees, the webs encasing you sticky and disgusting. You used your dagger to slice your way out of them and get to your feet, taking a head count of everyone that was present. All of the dwarves accounted for.

There were hordes of spiders, giant and covered in fur. You fought your way through a few, counting dwarves every second.

When you spotted Kili, however, he was pinned beneath a giant, shrieking spider. You drew an arrow and shot it quickly, putting to use the archery skills that very dwarf had spent hours teaching you. The spider slumped over top of him and Kili kicked it off of himself, looking to see who’d shot it and unsurprised to find that it was you.

He hurried over, a proud glimmer in his eye. “I told you we’d make an archer of you.”

“And it seems you were right.” You laughed, you eye tracking movement in your peripheral. There were more spiders, yes, but there were also elves, plenty of them, and they were coming in hot.

You looked around for Bilbo, but didn’t find him.

“What’s wrong?” Kili asked.

“Do you trust me?”

“Always.” He answered without hesitation.

“I have to go. We have a plan.” You leaned in and kissed Kili’s cheek, causing him to look up at you, dumbstruck.

A grin slowly spread across his face, processing the first kiss between the two of you. “Be safe.”

“I’ll find you soon.” You promised and took off into the trees, just in time to evade the elves who were apprehending the rest of the dwarves.

From your place up on a branch, you kept an eye on Kili as they hauled him and the rest of the company away, and you caught sight of Bilbo in another. He nodded at you and you returned the signal, waiting for the elves to all leave before meeting him down on the forest floor.

“I’ll go in with you and steal one of their uniforms, change, and then linger outside their cells until you get to us. The guards will be drunk tonight because of the festival. They should be drowsy enough that you can get the keys without too much trouble. On your way up to the rest of us, split the keys in half and I’ll unlock half of the doors to get them out faster.”

“Smart thinking.” Bilbo agreed.

“We’ll have to give them some time to get inside and out of our way before we can head inside. In the book, they’re held here for a few days. I think we can get them out in one.”

“Ambitious,” he said, thinking over the plans. “Ah, right. Well, if you don’t mind me asking since we have some time, are you and Kili…?”

“Seems to be the question on everyone’s minds.” You laughed. “Um. No, not yet. Not officially anyway. Balin and Bofur gave me a lesson on dwarvish courting rituals, though, so I kind of know what I’m doing now.”

He grinned. “Moving on up in the world, eh?”

“Something like that.” You shrugged, sitting for a moment and resting your cheek against your knee. “I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone this much before, Bilbo. I genuinely don’t know what I’d do if something happened to him.”

“That’s how you know it’s real, I think. That fear might protect you.” Bilbo said, wise from the journey. “Might protect him, too.”

“I can only hope so.”

***

Breaking into the elves’ fortress in Mirkwood was easier with a hobbit as a companion, you decided. Bilbo was good at going unnoticed, but especially so when he could sneak into the armory invisibly and retrieve Silvan elf armor for you. You slipped into it quickly, entrusting your bag of things to Bilbo for the moment until you’d be reunited with him.

Then, you went up to the cells where they were holding the dwarves, careful to calm your pace. For the first time in your journey, your pointed ears came in handy. You were able to sneak past any elf you passed without question. They thought you were one of them.

“You there, will you not join the festivities?” An elf asked you. Upon closer inspection, this was Legolas, his blond hair and Orlando Bloom complexion unmistakable. Oh shit.

You did a double-take. “Oh, Prince Legolas. I was going to see the prisoners before joining.” You smirked. “Not every day we have thirteen dwarves in our custody. I’m rather curious.”

“An unusual day indeed. I’ll admit, they are rather…interesting creatures.” He agreed, laughing. “I’ll save you a dance, then.”

“I’d be honored, my prince.” You curtsied, holding your posture carefully before walking past him without any further questioning. You chuckled. Little did he know the only prince that had your attention was a dwarven one.

You reached the hall where the cells were not long after that, looking into the doors and counting. Ori, Dori, Nori, check. Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, check. Balin and Dwalin and Oin and Gloin, check, and finally, Thorin, Fili, and Kili.

Fili was the first to notice you. He stood there for a long moment, staring at you, his eyebrows furrowed. It couldn’t be you, could it? Not dressed like that, surely. Perhaps his eyes were playing tricks on him, despite the fact that they’d only been there for a few hours.

“(Y/N)?” Fili asked, his voice hushed. “Is that you?”

You turned to face him, keeping the stiff elven posture you’d adopted to fit in. You smirked. “I put on some elf armor and suddenly you don’t recognize me, Fee? I’m offended.”

At the sound of your voice, Kili rushed to the bars of his cell. “Amrâlimê!”

You walked to his cell and rested your hands on his. “I told you I’d find you.”

“Where’s Bilbo?” Thorin asked from the next cell over.

“Grabbing the keys.” You told him. “And then we’re busting out of this place.”

“Were you spotted?” Nori wondered.

“Walked right past every elf I saw. They think I’m one of them.” You shrugged, tucking your hair behind one of your pointed ears. “Even managed to trick their prince. He’s up at the festival saving me a dance as we speak.”

You didn’t miss the tiny jealous grunt that left Kili’s throat at the mention of another prince, but you didn’t address it either.

Dwalin let out a proud, bellowing laugh. “Well done, lassie!”

You shrugged. “These ears of mine finally came in handy for something.”

“I happen to think they suit you.” Kili said, looking up at you. He looked so impossibly small in his cage.

Your heart ached. You couldn’t wait to get him out of there. “Is that so?”

“I happen to think most things suit you, actually.” He amended, a flirty grin on his face.

“Don’t get too comfortable, Miss Elf Guard.” Bilbo teased, tossing you a set of keys. “We have some dwarves to free.”

You quickly found the key to Kili’s door and unlocked it, followed immediately by the rest of the dwarves on your side of the hallway. The two of you led the others all the way down to the cellar, to the barrels Bilbo had located. You had almost forgotten this part of the adventure. And if it wasn’t too deadly and terrifying, it might actually be pretty fun.

“Are you sure about this, lad?” One of the dwarves protested as they started climbing inside the barrels.

“Trust me.” Bilbo said, looking to you for support. “Trust us.”

“This is one of the best parts in the book.” You told them. “It’ll all work out. I promise. It might even be fun.”

“There might be room for two in this one,” Kili told you, scouting the biggest barrel.

“I don’t know if it could support both of our weight.” You reasoned, thinking quickly. “And we have to get going so the Elves don’t stop us.”

You climbed into the big barrel, preparing yourself for the plummet downwards.

Kili nodded and climbed into the barrel beside yours, his hand reaching out and touching yours.

“Hold your breath.” Bilbo warned, pulling the lever and sending the barrels rolling down into the water tunnels beneath the castle. He took your tip about the floor and came down moments later, gripping the rope on Thorin’s barrel.

“Well done, you two.” Thorin praised. “You never cease to amaze me.”

“He would have figured it out without me, just for the record.” You told him. “Maybe just a little slower.”

You all started paddling, getting out of the elven tunnels a few minutes later, under cover of night. The stars were quite beautiful. You couldn’t help but stare at them, trying to recognize constellations in the still-unfamiliar sky.

“No sign of orcs.” Kili pointed out. “Nor poisoned arrows.”

“Good. Let’s hope it stays that way.” You chuckled, paddling beside him. Bilbo was still swimming alongside one of the other barrels. “Bilbo, there’s room in mine.”

“You don’t think I’ll sink you?”

“You’re lighter than I am.” You pointed out.

He couldn’t argue with that logic. Fili and Kili both helped hoist Bilbo into your barrel for the rest of the fairly smooth ride. There were a few dips and small waterfalls every so often, but the current wasn’t too harsh.

“Is it like this in the book?” Gloin asked and you nodded.

“Yeah. In fact, in the book, there are lids on the barrels. But it’s, uh, harder to steer that way.”

“I was going to put lids on them?” Bilbo asked, incredulous. “Thank you for steering me away from that option, Book Keeper.”

“That’s my job.” You chuckled, making the most of the ride until, eventually, it ended and the group pulled their barrels onto the shore.

“How’s our progress?” Thorin checked.

“We’re ahead of schedule. Our ride into Laketown won’t be here until tomorrow morning or afternoon.” You told him. “We were actually supposed to be in that elven prison for a few more days, so…we’ve got some time to get our bearings. And we won’t have to cut it so close hiking up to Erebor.”

The king grinned. “Excellent. Great work.” He turned to the rest of the company. “Set up camp for the night. Eat some food. Tomorrow, we journey to Laketown.”

You helped the others unpack some of the belongings, drying out things that had gotten wet. You scrunched your hair, draining it of excess water, and set out a bedroll for whenever you settled down. It was dark, but you couldn’t exactly tell how late it was.

Some of the others started a fire to dry themselves and cook dinner, which was whatever fish had slipped into their barrels on the way there. You found a private spot and changed out of the elven armor into your sleeping attire before returning to the group.

Kili was sitting near the fire, his bedroll now set out beside yours, and two plates of food in his lap. You sat beside him and he handed the extra plate to you, which you were grateful for. It had been a long few days, or however long had passed while you were trapped in those wretched spider-infested forests, and you were hungry.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” He nodded. The two of you were quiet for a long time before he finally asked a question you could tell had been eating at him for a bit. “What would have happened if…theoretically, I had been shot with that poisonous orc arrow?”

“Hard to say. In the version of the story where that happened…you were pretty injured from it, got progressively sicker and sicker and then when the company left for Erebor, you had to stay behind.”

“Oh.” He looked at you, his eyes serious. “I would have died, wouldn’t I?”

“No.” You shook your head. Not at that moment, you thought darkly, keeping it to yourself. “Well…it’s difficult to say, because in that version, you caught the eye of a very beautiful elf warrior. She healed you before you died from the poison. And she’s not here, so I…I really don’t know what would have happened.”

“Well…” He processed the information for a moment before a soft, tender look overtook his face. “I did happen to catch the eye of another woman with elf-like ears this time around. I think I prefer this one, actually.”

“I can’t heal you if you get poisoned.” You reasoned, insecurity eating at you, despite the lack of competition. You hadn’t seen Tauriel in Mirkwood, which probably meant she didn’t exist. Probably. She wasn’t in the book, after all, but neither were a lot of the other details you’d lived through that Tolkien had seemed to skim over in his version.

He took your hand in both of his, calling your full attention to him. “Maybe not, but…you did prevent me from being poisoned at all, which, I would argue, is better.” One of his hands wandered up to your cheek and you caught his eyes lingering on your lips for a long moment before he said. “You gave me this earlier, and I’ve been meaning to give it back to you.”

You watched him, curious. “What?”

Kili moved closer and pressed a long, lingering kiss to your cheek, causing your face to flush with warmth. He whispered, his voice deep and gentle, “Thank you for letting me borrow it.”

***

The next day, just as you had predicted, Bard found your group on the banks of the river. He was defensive at first, but eventually granted the group travel into town in exchange for whatever gold you all could scrape together.

For the first part of the voyage, you were all able to wander about the ship. You pulled out your Polaroid, assessing the damages it had incurred thus far. Part of you expected it to be totally busted, its parts flooded in your ride down the river, but it was functional. Maybe Gandalf had enchanted it to be indestructible.

“Is it broken?” Bofur asked, curious.

“I don’t think so, actually. I definitely thought it would be after everything it’s been through.” You chuckled, holding it in position and snapping a picture of him. A few moments later, it spit the picture out the front. You handed it to him and he watched as it developed.

“Fascinating little thing.” Bofur noted, tilting his head.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool.” You agreed, tucking it back into your bag.

“Couldn’t happen but notice you and the young prince last night.” Bofur smirked, mischief in his smile. “We’re still on for your smithing lesson, then?”

“As soon as possible, yes.” You nodded. A nervous laugh wrenched its way out of your lips. “I don’t know why I’m so scared.”

“It’s a big moment. I don’t blame you for being a little nervous. But it’s very obvious to me and,” he laughed, “well, everyone else that the lad cares for you. And I, for one, happen to think you’d make a lovely addition to the family.”

“Thank you, Bofur.” You wrapped your arms around your bag, cradling it to you. “I think I needed to hear that.”

“Book Keeper, if I might have a word.” Thorin said, motioning you to the front of the ship.

You nodded and stood from your spot, walking up to meet him. You noticed Kili was sitting on a crate at the back of the boat, his legs dangling from it. He appeared to be working on something very small, but you couldn’t tell what it was from where you were.

“What’s on your mind, your highness?” You asked, standing beside him, staring out into the fog.

“I’ve heard murmurs of something within the company, I was hoping you would confirm or deny them.” Thorin started, looking amused. “I don’t think it should be news to you that my nephew cares for you, yes?”

“I care for him as well, Thorin.” You assured him.

“Mmm.” Thorin nodded. “I hoped as much. I just ask that…if you do not wish to court him, don’t string him along. The boy has had his heart broken too many times. This time, though, I feel he would never recover from it.”

“When we get to Erebor, Balin and Bofur are going to help me make a courting bead.” You told him. “I should have told you long before now, but I never found the time or opportunity.”

Thorin grinned. His hand came to rest on your shoulder, the other resting on his belt. “That is most excellent news. Do you know how you’ll be making it, yet?”

“I don’t know the specifics. I’ve never smithed anything in my life.” You shook your head. “In my realm, smithing isn’t as prominent as it is here. But I was planning to use this.” You held up your hand, showing him the ring. “Balin and Bofur said it should be something sentimental. This ring is usually used to show relationship status in my realm.”

“I heard you discussing it with him the night of the goblins.” Thorin smiled softly. “I didn’t get very much sleep that night either. I think that would work quite well as a courting bead.” He met your eyes, his gaze sincere. This was perhaps the first time you’d connected with the king on a personal level on the entire journey, but you were glad you were finally getting the opportunity. “After everything you’ve done for us, I would be honored to have you as my niece.”

Your breath got caught in your throat, tears pricking your eyes. “You have no idea how much it means to hear you say that.”

“We’re approaching the gates!” Bard warned. “Get back in the barrels.”

With some protest, the dwarves got back into the barrels they’d come there in. You started to climb into the barrel beside Thorin’s, but Bard stopped you.

“You won’t need to. Just cover those ears of yours.” He told you.

You nodded, using your hair to cover their extended points, looking to Bifur to ask if they were covered. He gave you a thumbs-up before ducking back into his barrel. You inhaled nervously and settled yourself as casually as you could on a crate in the corner of the boat.

It was then that several pounds of fish were dumped on top of the dwarves. You cringed for their sake. You had a feeling this was going to be a very smelly evening indeed. You heard a few quiet groans from them, but otherwise, they remained silent, hoping not to blow their cover.

Next, Bard took the ship to the entrance of town, where he was stopped by the gate keeper. He initially was approved to enter until the disgusting little weasel Alfrid decided to pay a visit.

“Oi! Who’s the girl?” He asked, his unibrow scrunching as he looked you up and down. God, he was even more disgusting in person somehow. You were hoping he wouldn’t be real, but it seemed Tolkien had skimmed over him in the book as well. You couldn’t say you blamed him.

“She’s paid her passage. Therefore, she’s entering town.”

“Now, now, now, no one gets into my town without a more…thorough investigation, let’s say.” Alfrid rubbed his sleazy little hands together and you did your best not to gag at the mere thought of him touching you.

“You will not put your hands on her.” Bard said, defending you. “If you so much as breathe on her, I’ll see to it that the whole town knows.”

Alfrid seemed to contemplate this before relenting. “Fine, but if she steps even a toe out of line, she’ll be sleeping in the dungeons.”

“And she won’t.” Bard assured him, seeming annoyed. Not long after, the boat continued, through the narrow waterways to an alley between some buildings. Bard started dumping barrels full of fish-covered dwarves. He instructed them on how to swim under his house and up through the toilet.

“Count yer blessings, lass.” Dwalin muttered before jumping in.

“Oh believe me, I am.” You grimaced at the strong fishy smell wafting from your companions. Once they were all out of the boat, you went with Bard through the front door of his house, met immediately by his daughters and his son.

“Da, who is this?”

“A traveler.” Bard replied. “Bain, get them in.”

Bard’s son walked down the stairs and signaled the Dwarves to start coming into the house.

“If you speak a word of this to anyone, I’ll rip your arms off,” Dwalin threatened, coming out of the murky waters first.

“Why are there dwarves coming out of the toilet?” Bard’s oldest daughter wondered.

“Will they bring us luck?” The youngest asked.

“I can assure you, they are very lucky.” You told her. “They’ve brought me nothing but luck, in fact.”

Kili walked up to you, sopping wet, his clothes and hair thoroughly soaked. You couldn’t help but chuckle a little at his pitiful state, handing him a towel. He buried his face in it before using it to scrunch his wet hair.

“Not feeling so lucky at the moment, however.” Kili muttered. He handed the towel back to you and started ringing out his shirt, water splattering on the floor. “He didn’t touch you, did he?”

“Who?”

“That…sleazy gate keeper man.” Kili looked pissed.

“Alfrid.” Bard’s eldest daughter said, rolling her eyes. “He disgusts me.”

“Yeah, same.” You agreed with her and looked down to Kili, who wouldn’t make eye contact with you, instead, his eyes were fixed on his dark blue shirt, ringing excess water out of it. “He didn’t touch me. He didn’t even come near me.”

“Good.” He nodded, his eyes still serious.

“I’m pretty sure if he’d have breathed on me I would have puked on the spot.” You joked, which did get him to smile again.

“Is he that hideous?” The dwarven prince finally dared to look up at you, a mischievous glimmer in his eye.

“Literally the ugliest person I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

“Truly gruesome.” Bard’s daughter agreed, cringing. She looked at you and offered her hand. “I’m Sigrid, by the way.”

“(Y/N),” you introduced. “This is Kili.”

The dwarf in question did a little bow. “At your service.”

Bard came into the room, carrying a variety of tools and makeshift weapons. He set them on the table all at once.

“Oh no, these will not do at all.” The dwarves started going through them harshly.

“We need iron-forged weapons! Not fishing supplies.” Gloin shook his head.

“All of the weapons in town are held under lock and key in the armory.” Bard told them. “These are the best I can do.”

“Book Keeper?” Balin looked to you for advice.

“Um, let me check.” You reached into your bag and pulled out the thin paperback book you’d been referencing the entire time. You used the table of contents to flip to the chapter about Laketown. “Okay, so um, under cover of night, you sneak into the armory to take the weapons, you get caught, but when you tell the Master and the rest of the town about the quest, they celebrate and give you weapons and a feast and a place to stay.”

“What is that book?” Bard asked. “Is she a Seer?”

“Not quite. Just a…reader, I suppose.” You shrugged. “I’m from a place where all of this is a story.”

“A feast sounds quite nice…” Fili raised an eyebrow. Bombur nodded in fierce agreement.

“Then we do what the Book Keeper says.” Thorin nodded at you, grateful for your guidance. “We leave at nightfall. Ready yourselves in the meantime.”

***

The dwarves set out to retrieve the weapons sometime after dark. You stayed at Bard’s house with his kids, waiting nervously to hear the commotion in the middle of town begin. Bard, obviously, had quite a few questions for you.

“You’ve been traveling with them? For how long?”

“Quite a while. Almost half a year now.” You said, just now realizing how long it had been. “It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long, though. They’re a lot. They’re loud and kind of messy sometimes, but…they’re fiercely loyal. They’ve saved my life more times than I can count. I really do consider them family.”

“You knew I’d find you on the bank of that river, then?” He asked, his dark eyebrows furrowing.

“I was counting on it.”

“Interesting.” He nodded.

“How long have you known the younger one? Kili, I think his name is.” Sigrid asked.

“I’ve known of him for years. I’ve known of all of you for years, actually. But I met him at the same time as the rest of them, why?”

“You two seem to have known each other for ages.” She sighed. “The way he looks at you…It’s like there are a million stars in his eyes.”

“Oh I know.” You laughed softly. “Once we get to Erebor, I’m finally going to do something about it.”

A call came from the center of town, echoing into the distance. “Explain yourselves, dwarves!”

“Oop, there it is.”

“Just as she said…” Bain mumbled, thoroughly impressed.

You got up and rushed to the door, following the crowds of people into town, where the dwarves were being held by guards. You were careful to cover your pointed ears just in case their attention wandered to you, but you were sure the rest of the townsfolk were pretty well distracted.

“I am Thorin! Son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the mountain! I have come to reclaim our home from the dragon Smaug!” Thorin declared, fire in his eyes. He really did sound like a king when he spoke like that. You got chills up your spine just listening to him.

The crowd began to murmur about a prophecy, the word whispered amongst them. The Master perked up at this. He, like his lackey Alfrid, was absolutely grotesque, any sliver of dignity eaten away by his immense greed.

“If we succeed in our quest, we will share our bounty with Laketown.” Thorin promised. You knew when you all actually arrived in Erebor, that might change, but you hoped you’d be able to convince him to keep his word. “You have my word. All we ask is weapons and shelter until we make our leave.”

The Master thought about it for a long moment before he made his decision. “Welcome to Laketown, dwarves! Let us eat, drink, and be merry to celebrate their quest to reclaim Erebor!”

The townsfolk all cheered and the guards finally let go of the dwarves. You walked to Kili, who looked up at you with stars in his eyes, just the way Sigrid had described. It sent warmth blossoming through your stomach.

“You always seem to be right, Amrâlimê.” He murmured, his arms settling around your waist and pulling you close to him.

“I wonder why that is.” You chuckled, arms wrapping around him as well. You tilted his head up towards you with a gentle hand. “Everything go okay? Well, until…you know.”

“More than okay.” Kili smiled that boyish grin of his. It was at times like these that it was hard for you to believe he was hiding seventy-seven years behind that youthful face. “I cannot wait to get to Erebor.”

“It’s close now, isn’t it?”

“Very much so.” He nodded, pressing up on his toes to kiss your cheek before tugging you into the pub, where the rest of the group was beginning the celebrations.

Musicians were in the corner, playing lively lake shanties, the bartenders were slinging drinks faster than you could comprehend, and there was more food than you’d seen since the group left Rivendell so long ago. You settled into a seat in the corner, at a table with Fili, Bofur, and Kili, the last of whom left to grab drinks. While Kili was away, Fili leaned forward to speak to you over the noise.

“(Y/N), would you visit the market with me tomorrow?” He asked, feigning innocence. You suspected there was something going on, but you didn’t call him out on it.

“Yeah, of course, Fili. Shopping for anything in particular, or…?”

“Supplies and whatnot. For Uncle.” He added, although you were fairly certain it had nothing to do with Thorin.

“Okay, sure, I’ll help.”

He grinned. “Excellent.”

“You like mead, right, (Y/N)?” Kili asked, sliding a mug to you. “You seemed to like the kind the elves had in Rivendell.”

“I do like mead. Thank you.” You grinned and took the mug of the drink, taking a few tentative sips. It was good, but it was very strong.

“I asked if they had blueberry, but they didn’t, only raspberry and some strawberry.”

“It’s good.” You assured him. “You remembered what kind of mead I had all the way back then?”

“I remember everything about that night.” He winked.

The company drank and ate and drank some more. You hadn’t been drunk in a good, long while, so you finally let loose a bit, giving into the warmth and numbness of the alcohol flowing through your veins. You got a bit giggly, watching the dwarves dance and joke around.

“It’s all about unwinding and having a good time, isn’t it?” Ori rambled, rocking in time to the music. “That’s what these adventures are for.”

“Absolutely.” You nodded. “We have a phrase where I come from…‘maybe the real adventure was the friends we met along the way.’ And you guys are like my best friends. I love all of youuu.”

Kili turned to look at you very dramatically, bewildered at the way you were talking. “You’re drunk!” He laughed, pointing.

“So are you!”

He shook his head, though he was obviously lying. “Nonsense. I can hold my beer.”

“Bullshit, laddie!” Dwalin bellowed. “You’re the lightest weight of all of us here, the lass included!”

“Am not!” Kili huffed, crossing his arms.

“I’m a lightweight. Very much so.” You argued, shaking your head. “I’m only (height). It goes straight to my head.”

“He’s only 4’10”!” Gloin’s laugh echoed off the walls, and the whole company laughed with him.

“Oh right.” You shook your head. “I always forget.”

The band picked up a lively tune and Kili abandoned his drink and the laughing company. He took your hand and tugged you onto the dancefloor that had formed. The two of you did your best to follow along with the dance the people of Laketown were doing, twirling each other around, skipping along to the music around and around and around.

You and Kili laughed and laughed, dancing until the music stopped and you lost your footing, inadvertently pulling him down with you. You landed in a heap on the floor, his strong arms on either side of you and his face right in front of you, his warmth radiating onto you, even warmer than it usually was, due to the alcohol in his system.

Finally, things seemed to slow down as you sobered up due to his proximity and that look in his brown eyes. You imagined him leaning in and kissing you, what his lips would feel like against yours, rough and filled with passion and fire. You imagined the way his scruff would feel against your skin and the way his large, strong hands would wander your body. You wanted it. You wanted him.

“Are you alright?” He chuckled, looking you over for damages, but only finding a tipsy Book Keeper with flushed cheeks.

“I’m great.” You insisted, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his. “I’m always great when you’re around, Kili.”

You didn’t miss the way he lit up when you said it. Instead of replying, though, he pressed a messy kiss to your cheek and pulled you to your feet again. You walked back to the others, some of whom were grumbling and exchanging money with one another. If you didn’t know any better, you would have sworn they were taking bets over when and how you and Kili would finally kiss. Unsurprisingly, Balin and Thorin and Bofur were on the receiving end of most of the coin.

You walked, albeit a little wobbly, back to your chair. Once you settled, Balin handed you a mug of what you came to realize was water. It always seemed he was taking care of you, and you very much appreciated it.

“Lassie, could you settle a bet between us?” Dwalin asked.

“I’m a lil’ drunk, but I probably could.” You tilted your head, crossing your legs on the chair you’d settled on. “What’s going on?”

The company laughed a little at your drunkenness.

“Great. Do you know what a One is?”

“I can count.” You insisted, furrowing your eyebrows.

The dwarves all laughed, and then Bofur added, “With a capital O, lass.”

“Ohhhhhhh. That makes more sense.” You giggled a bit and took a sip of water, praying for some sobriety for this conversation. “I do. Kind of. They’re like soulmates, right? Like…and correct me if I’m wrong…the belief that you were created as half of a whole and that your One is the other half?”

“I told you. Pay up.” Fili held up his hand. He tilted his head to you. “Thank you very much.”

“Did he tell you that?” Dwalin asked, shoving a few coins into the golden prince’s hand.

“No.” You shook your head. “I read about it where I’m from.”

“There are works about Ones where you’re from?” Ori asked, genuinely curious.

“Oh yeah.” You nodded. “They’re not in the Book so I didn’t know if they were a real thing or not, but there’s some works about them, yeah.”

You took a long sip of water from your mug and missed the look Fili gave his brother.

Once the party was over and the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon once more, you all headed to the lodging the town was providing for all of you, a large house with plenty of beds, and claimed one for yourself, falling asleep almost instantly. And yet, drifting somewhere between asleep and awake, you swore you felt a pair of soft lips against your forehead.

***

Before coming to Middle Earth, you’d never had a hangover before. Sure, you were twenty-three, but while you were in college, you’d been focused on finishing your degree. You’d been drunk, sure, but never badly enough that you were hungover the next day. And yet, now, you had a pounding headache that could only be explained by the mere amount of alcohol you’d consumed the night before.

Most of the dwarves were still asleep by the time you came around, their snores all too familiar by this point in your journey with them. You spotted Kili in a bed across the room next to an empty bed you assumed belonged to Fili. He was still passed out, snoring. You smiled to yourself. There he was, your Prince Charming.

You reached for the book in your bag, which was hanging on the end of the bed you’d found yourself in.

The sun was up now, and streaming through the windows, so you opened the book and read the next couple of sections. What came next was the hike up to Erebor, then a confrontation with Smaug, and then, said dragon would be killed by Bard. You wished there was something you could do to stop the destruction. Smaug would destroy Laketown and kill many of the people who lived there. There would be survivors, sure, but…there must be some way to warn them, surely. But there was also the chance that if you told them to evacuate town, Bard might not be there to stop the dragon. You were pretty sure he was the only one who could.

You sighed. Sometimes your knowledge of things to come was a blessing. It had helped you protect the company, keep them ahead of schedule on their journey. Other times, like this, it made you feel guilty, even though there was no real way you could save the men of the village. Some things had to happen; Smaug’s death was one of them. And besides, you’d seen the Master, you knew he was skeptical of the dwarves as is. If he knew it was kind of their fault the dragon would be headed towards Laketown, you had no clue what would happen to them. Then none of you would make it to Erebor. In fact, he’d probably burn you at the stake for being a witch while he was at it.

“You ready to go?” Came Fili’s gruff whisper. He was all dressed and ready for a day on the town. Right. You’d agreed to go to the market with him.

“What time is it?” You asked, eyes bleary.

“Sometime after noon. The market is open. Thought I’d let you get some sleep, though.” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows at you. “You had quite the night last night, Book Keeper.”

You motioned to the rest of the dwarves that were still out cold. “I think we all did.”

You stretched and got out of bed, rummaging through your clothes for something suitable to wear and changed quickly before meeting Fili outside the house, your bag slung over your shoulder.

“Is there anything you need from the market today, Book Keeper?” Fili asked. “I scoped out the stalls earlier. The merchants have agreed to furnish us with anything we need before we leave.”

“Did you see anyone selling dresses?” You asked. “Not anything super fancy, just…clean and nice.”

“I saw some, yes. Any particular occasion?”

You paused, looking at him and the mischievous look in his eye. “Why, what do you know?”

“Oh nothing, nothing…” He shook his head, walking along. “I think I did see one. This way.”

Fili led you down through the market stalls to one run by a kindly old woman. She had several simple dresses. Vibrant greens and oranges. They were perfect now that the leaves were changing color. The orange would go well with your cloak, but the green would match the courting bead once it was made. Choices, choices…

“Hello, lass.” The old woman greeted you. “How can I help you today?”

“I’m looking for a dress.” You told her. “I love this green color.”

“It matches your ring, dear.” She smiled, noticing the gem around your finger.

“That’s what I thought, too.” You told her.

“Is it for any occasion in particular?”

Fili looked away, pretending to be distracted by something in the next stall.

“It is, actually. It doesn’t need to be anything very fancy, but…I’m planning on wearing it to tell the man I love that I want to court him.” You told her.

She gasped, her eyes twinkling. She took your hand in both of hers. “I have just the thing.”

She led you by the hand into her house and let you try on the perfect dress. Its fabric was soft, a deep emerald green. Along its hem, several wildflowers were embroidered with sage green and lavender thread. It was beautiful, though not too flashy, and it went perfectly with your ring.

It was absolutely perfect.

Though she insisted you didn’t have to pay her, wanting to give it to you for the occasion, you gave her most of the coins Gandalf allotted you at the beginning of the journey. You’d been saving them for something special, and this felt right.

Once you changed out of it, you met Fili back in front of the stall. He looked at you, expectant.

“Well?”

“I found one. It’s very nice.” You smiled, patting your bag. “Now, what did you need to buy?”

“Hmm?”

“…for your uncle?” You reminded him.

“Ah, right! For Uncle! Yes, um, just some provisions is all. More food, some supplies; rope and wood and things…”

“Mmhmm.” You hummed, unconvinced.

Fili led you through the market, purchasing a few things here and there. But you could tell he was just biding his time until he finally asked what he’d actually brought you there to talk about. “So um…It seems none of us have ever asked you how humans from your realm…court.”

You laughed in disbelief. “Oh my god.”

“It’s not for me!”

“I know that.” You shook your head.

Fili stared at you, waiting for more of a reply. “How might a dwarf go about that? About courting a human. A human woman. If he so wanted to. I don’t. No offense, of course, you’re lovely, Book Keeper.”

“Fili…” You hesitated for a long moment. You knew he and Kili were close. Beyond close, in fact. You trusted Bofur and Balin to keep your not-so-secret secret, but could you tell Fili without indirectly telling Kili?

Fili’s expression fell. “Do you not love him?”

Your took a breath, forming your words. “Fili, I love your brother more than I have ever loved anyone in my entire life.”

He breathed in relief. “Thank Mahal…”

“It’s just that, um…Balin and Bofur are teaching me to smith a courting bead for him. Once we get to Erebor, I mean. I wish I could do it sooner, but I want to do it properly.” You breathed, fiddling with your claddagh ring nervously. “I want it to be perfect.”

Fili looked at you for a long time, his eyes soft. “You really do love him.”

You nodded. “I do.”

“Well…” He scratched the back of his neck. “He sent me here to get information on how to take matters into his own hands. My brother has never been…patient, let’s just say.”

You laughed. “Oh, I know.” You thought for a moment. “Just tell him…it’s a long, complicated, confusing process, but…flowers are usually a good start.”

“Is it actually complicated where you’re from?”

“Yes. I wish our customs were as straight-forward as yours. With humans, it’s all a guessing game. You go on a few dates together, but there’s always the question of who asks who out, and who pays for the meal and when do you have a first kiss, when do you take the next step, it’s all…experimenting and feeling things out. And sometimes, you think someone is really into you and they’re not and then your heart gets broken because they were acting like they liked you, but they didn’t and they just slowly stop talking to you altogether. Or maybe things moved too fast and it scared them away…so many things that could go wrong. And then you don’t know how many dates you go on before you’re actually considered dating, well, courting, I guess. Same thing, really. Could be three or four, could be a lot more than that…it’s rough.”

Fili was stunned silent for a long moment. “That does sound…awful.”

“It is.”

He looked around awkwardly, unsure of exactly what else to say. “So…what kind of flowers do you want?”

***

That night was the last night the company was staying in Laketown. Your efforts had bought the group some extra time to spend on the hike up to Erebor. You were spending the evening to yourself. The dwarves were out drinking in the pub, so you were in the house alone, preparing your things for more travel.

You sat on the bed you had claimed and went through your pack, organizing your clothes, folding them in piles. You pulled out your stack of polaroid photos and started shuffling through them. There were so many that you and the dwarves had taken over the course of the journey. The guys making silly faces, cooking dinner over a campfire, dancing and singing songs together, visiting all kinds of beautiful places together. You’d always known Middle Earth would be beautiful, but you had no idea the extent of it. And yet, after having been there for so long, it was beginning to feel more like home to you than the realm you’d come from.

You stared at one picture in particular, one of Thorin, Fili, and Kili all together. You couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. It was about time you faced the inevitable. Your own personal quest to save the line of Durin was nearing every moment. You weren’t sure what to do about it. You hadn’t told anyone, obviously. You didn’t even know what they would say. And if you did tell them, there was the chance that it would make them nervous and even more likely to die. Or, worse, one of the others could die as well. That blood would be on your hands.

You found yourself wishing, now more than ever, that Gandalf was there so you could ask him for advice. He was the only one who would know that to do.

Instead, however, the first to wander back from the festivities was none other than Bilbo Baggins, a smile on his face and a wooden mug of something in his hand.

“(Y/N), what are you doing in here all alone?” He spotted the tears running down your face and stopped, his expression softening. “Are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” you nodded, sniffling and wiping away your tears as quickly as you could. “Just, uh, taking a little stroll down memory lane, I guess.” You held up some pictures and he nodded, walking closer.

“You know, if there’s anything you need to talk about, I’ve got open ears.” Bilbo offered, closing the door behind him. “I may not be as wise as Balin, but I like to think I’ve acquired some wisdom of my own on this trip.”

“Thank you.” You chuckled, nodding. “I appreciate it, Bilbo.” You let out a long, shaking sigh. “I really wish I could tell you what’s going on, but I don’t want to put you in harm’s way.”

Bilbo nodded, thinking for a long moment before replying. “Whatever it is you’re facing now…you’ve been carrying it for a while, haven’t you?”

“For longer than I’ve known any of you.” You admitted.

“Well, whatever it is you’re carrying…you don’t have to carry it alone. If you need to tell someone, it can be me. You’ve carried my burdens, let me share yours.”

“Okay, well…” You choked back a sob, pulling the book out of your bag. You flipped through the pages at the very back of it, scanning the tiny words carefully. What you hated the most about it was how easy it was to miss. Like an afterthought. One sentence that broke your heart a million times over.

You pointed and handed the book to Bilbo so he could read it for himself. You couldn’t bear the thought of reading the words out loud. “Am I allowed to read straight from the book?”

You nodded, so he allowed himself to scan over the words, and as soon as he did, he let out a sigh and shook his head.

“Wow, (Y/N), I’m so…” Bilbo exhaled. “You’ve known this the whole time?”

“That’s the reason I’m here. Gandalf told me…he said I’d be able to change it. To try at least.” You shook your head, new, hot tears trailing down your face. “I don’t know. I’m just…so scared.”

“You have every right to be.” Bilbo said. “And, especially now, with everything between the two of you…” He handed you the book back and looked you in the eye. “I am so sorry. Have you…have you spoken to Gandalf about it since then?”

“Not directly. He’s never here for long.”

“Ask for his advice. I’m sure he’ll know what to do.” Bilbo assured you. “And if he doesn’t, well…you and I are rather good at making plans together. We will figure this out.” He took your hands, very serious. “You’re not going to lose him, alright? I promise you.”

You sniffled and nodded, looking at him for a good, long moment before pulling him into your arms. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Book Keeper.”

***

The next morning, bright and early, just before the company was set to leave for Erebor, you knocked on Bard’s door, nervous. In your hand was a note, a warning about the dragon that was set to come for their town. You explained it as well as you could in a way that you hoped he would understand. It was inevitable, but if he was prepared, it might prevent damage to the town, save some lives.

When he opened the door, he had a dismissive look on his face before he saw that it was you.

“Oh. Hello. (Y/N), was it?”

“Yeah. Hi Bard. Um, so, you can take this with a grain of salt if you want, but I thought you should know.” You handed the note to him and he held it, hesitant.

He raised an eyebrow. “A prophecy from the Book Keeper?”

You nodded. “So it would seem. And thank you for helping the dwarves. I know they probably didn’t thank you properly. I’ll do my best to make sure they hold up their end of the bargain.”

He stared at you for a long moment. “Thank you. Best of luck to you.”

It was a weird moment when you stepped down from his stairs, back down to the dock where Kili was waiting for you. It felt significant. Bard had an impact on you when you’d read the story as a child. It felt…right to help him now. And you knew how important he’d be for the outcome of the story and everything that would come after Smaug’s death.

Not long after, the company boarded a boat and set off towards the shores nearest Erebor. It was beautiful. The waters were fairly calm, the sky was alight with color…You watched as Laketown got smaller and smaller behind you, the Lonely Mountain growing closer and closer.

You caught Kili squinting at the distant grass, searching for wildflowers, no doubt. You couldn’t stop your heart from melting at the sight.

“I bought some things at the market in Laketown. When we get camp set up, I’ll have Thorin send Kili and Fili out to scout for a bit.” Balin told you, his voice quiet. “And then we can get started.”

“Awesome.” You nodded, a chill running up your spine. It was finally happening. You stared at the ring around your finger and couldn’t help but smile thinking about its future. “Thank you, Balin.”

The old dwarf smiled, a twinkle in his eye. “Don’t mention it, dear. I’m quite excited myself.”

Six of the dwarves paddled the boat for a few hours. Not long after, they switched. Kili had been paddling during the first shift, so once he was finished, he plopped down in the seat beside yours, his leg resting against yours. He kept staring up at the Lonely Mountain, his eyes absolutely glimmering with excitement to finally have reached your destination.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” He asked, his voice soft and sentimental.

“It really is.” You agreed, nodding. You imagined years from now when the rest of the dwarves journeyed to Erebor from wherever they had gone to since, business bustling, children laughing. You knew it would be so beautiful. You hoped you’d get to stick around to see it. You still weren’t sure how it would work when everything was done.

Kili slipped his hand into yours and squeezed it excitedly, bringing it to his lips. You swore your heart skipped a beat. Any of the dwarves that witnessed this interaction laughed softly to themselves.

The boat landed some time later when the sun was beginning to tickle the tops of the hills nearby. Thorin decided to camp as far from the mountain as possible, as to, hopefully, not wake the dragon overnight, but he would have dwarves posted on guard all night just in case. He was ever-grateful you’d bought them an extra day of time. The following day was Durin’s day, which meant that around tomorrow evening, the dwarves would enter Erebor finally, and, inevitably, Bilbo would wake the dragon.

Yikes.

As soon as you got out of the boat, you spotted a crate not too far from the shore and scrunched your eyebrows at it. While the others started unloading things, you walked over to the big box and noticed a piece of paper sitting on top of it. Upon closer inspection, it was addressed to you.

“What is that, lass?” Dwalin asked, noticing your absence.

“It’s addressed to me.” You read the words in your head.

My Dear Book Keeper,

Do not stress to much over the days to come

It will all work itself out in the end.

Well done so far. Enjoy these with the company.

I’ll see you soon.

-Gandalf

“It’s from Gandalf.” You told them, pushing the lid off of the crate to find a whole bunch of bottles of black cherry cream soda. “He brought us that cream soda I like.”

“I wonder what it tastes like…” Dori wondered.

“We’ll have it with dinner this evening.” Thorin declared. “For now, set up camp and keep an eye on the skies.” He stared up at the mountain for a long time. It would be quite the hike tomorrow, but you knew it would be well worth it.

Sometime after they got the boat unpacked, the camp set up, Thorin sent Kili and Fili out to scout and Balin and Bofur found you not long after, looking excited.

Balin took a tiny kit of jeweling tools out of his bag and unrolled it, showing you all the tools he had at your disposal.

“Alright, lassie, do you have an idea of what kind of design you’d like to do?”

“The bead should be pretty thick, right? Is this circumference okay, or should it be smaller?” You asked.

“Let me see.” Balin held out his hand and you carefully set the ring in his palm. He pulled out the little glass eyepiece he used for reading to examine it more carefully. “Kili’s hair is quite thin, so it might be wise to bring it in a little bit, but in terms of thickness, yes, it should be a thicker band.”

“I got some chains at the market. They’re silver, so they’ll match.” Bofur said, presenting a few broken pieces of jewelry he’d picked up at the market. Well, either he had picked them up or Nori had…borrowed them, one of the two. “Should add onto it quite nicely once it’s melted down.”

“Wait, is she courting Kili?” Ori asked, completely unaware until that very moment that something was going on between you and the youngest prince. “Why am I always the last to know?”

“She will be, but for now, keep quiet, lad.” Dwalin, roughed up Ori’s hair. He met your eyes over the fire and winked at you. “Would hate to ruin the surprise.”

The three of you worked quickly, with Balin and Bofur directing you through every step of the process. The other members of the party occasionally chimed in with advice. Thorin watched the whole exchange with proud eyes. He didn’t say much, but you could tell he approved.

And once it was finally done and cool enough to touch, you couldn’t stop looking at it.

“I think he’ll love it.” Bilbo said, smiling proudly.

“It is quite beautiful, (Y/N).” Thorin complimented. “Very impressive for your first work.”

“I had some really great teachers.” You said, emotion welling in your voice. You looked at all of the dwarves that were around you, Bilbo sitting among them as well. This was your family. These were your boys, and even with Kili and Fili out scouting for the moment, you still very much loved and appreciated each dwarf in attendance. “You guys really mean a lot to me. All of you. All of your advice, your comfort, your lessons…I will carry all of them with me for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t go all soft on us now, lass.” Dwalin tilted his head, compassion in his dark eyes. “We’ve got plenty of time for that.”

“Right.” You laughed softly, nodding.

“When are you going to do it?” Dori asked. He’d always been something of a hopeless romantic, as he’d told you. Loved the idea of young love and the innocence and beauty that came with it.

“I was going to wait until the day after tomorrow to do it. I can’t give too many details now, but…I don’t want to distract him while there’s still a dragon here.”

“That’s a good plan.” Balin put his hand on your arm. “Best of luck to you, dear, but I doubt you’ll need it.”

***

Kili and Fili came back sometime later, and once they did, the rest of the party finally got into the drinks Gandalf had sent. You’d all found some large logs to sit on around the fire. You’d tucked the bead into a pocket for safe keeping and were sitting there, staring into the flames when Kili approached, a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand. They were beautiful, purple stalks with smaller yellow flowers in between.

He seemed nervous, standing for a moment before deciding to sit on the log next to you. You could tell he was rehearsing in his head how to word what he was about to say next. Thinking about it, you had been a bit vague in the advice you’d given to Fili.

“These, um…I picked them for you.” He said, handing the bouquet to you. “I hope you…like them.”

“These are beautiful, Kili.” You assured him, holding the flowers and admiring them for a long moment. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He nodded, taking a shaky breath. “I’m glad you think so.”

There was a moment of quiet and you could tell he was contemplating asking whether or not this meant you were courting now, but he didn’t say anything else, unsure of exactly what to say. So, you decided to fill the quiet.

Setting the flowers carefully on top of your bag, you took Kili’s hand and leaned on his shoulder. “I’m really glad I came here, Kili.”

“To Erebor?” He asked quietly.

“To Middle Earth.”

He squeezed your hand. “I am too.”

“It’s been a while since you’ve spoken of home, lass,” Dwalin pointed out. Everyone was circled up now, facing the fire and sipping on their bottles of black cherry cream soda.

“Yeah, you don’t talk about it much anymore.” Ori agreed, nodding.

“It’s…well, it’s pretty boring, honestly. I’m no fighter. I’m a writer. I’ve been writing a fantasy novel, ironically enough, but I got stuck and didn’t know where to take the story.” You shrugged, lifting your head from the dwarf prince’s shoulder, but not letting go of his hand. “There’s no elves or goblins or trolls or…magic there. We latch onto these stories of whimsy and adventure so much because we don’t have it where I’m from. It makes us feel alive.”

You were quiet for a moment, fetching the book from your bag.

“I’ve had this book since I was twelve years old. I had to read it for a class when I was in middle school. Usually I hated reading things I was forced to read, but…I knew this book was different. I could feel it, even then. A classic adventure, a quest to kill a dragon, but there was so much more to it. My friends and I were excited to read the assigned chapters every week to see what trouble you guys would get into and then fight your way out of. It was fun. And at the time we were reading it, they were also in the process of making movies about you guys.”

“What’s a movie?” Fili asked, seated on Kili’s other side.

“Oh. Right. Well, um…a movie is like a play. Kind of. Except the whole thing is recorded with a camera. Imagine if my Polaroid could make moving pictures with sound. It’s like that. Moving pictures with sound that tell a story. And so my classmates and I all took a trip to the theater together to see them and it was really special. I couldn’t imagine then that I’d ever be here, that I’d ever see these events with my own eyes, intervene in them. Even before I knew you guys existed, you had a really big impact on my life. You all got me through some tough times.”

“And you’ve gotten us through tough times.” Bilbo smiled. “I’d say we’re probably even now.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to repay all of you for everything you’ve done for me. So I guess I’ll just have to stick around and keep trying.”

“Will you stay?” Kili asked, his voice quiet. “A long time ago you told me if you got the choice, you would. Is that still…how you feel?”

The company was quiet, waiting for your response.

“If I get to choose, I will absolutely stay here. If you’d all have me, of course.” You were looking at Kili now, your other hand joining the first, holding his. “I don’t think I could live in a realm that doesn’t have you in it.”

Kili leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling you into his arms. You reciprocated the hug immediately, surrendering to his warmth. You felt the tears trail down your cheeks. Unlike the night before, you weren’t sobbing, you weren’t sniffling. You were barely making any noise at all, but that didn’t seem to stop the tears from flowing.

“(Y/N), you will always have a place in our halls.” Thorin said, watching his nephew embrace you. “You and the Burglar both. You’re our kin now.”

“Once we get the library back in working order, we’ll need a Book Keeper.” Nori pointed out, causing the others to laugh.

You nodded and pulled away from Kili. He noticed your tears immediately and reached out to wipe them away.

“Oh, Amrâlimê, there’s no need for tears.”

“Someday you’re going to have to tell me what that word means,” you whispered, a soft laugh escaping you.

He smiled. “Soon.”

“Promise?” You held out your pinkie finger.

He stared at it for a long time. “What am I meant to do with this, Book Keeper?”

You reached for his hand and shaped his fingers, tucking them all down aside from his pinkie. “This is a very important human custom where I’m from. Sacred almost. Everyone pay attention.” You told the others, linking your pinkie with Kili’s. “We call this a Pinkie Promise. It’s an unbreakable oath.”

“Why are you just teaching us this now?” Fili laughed.

“Unbreakable, you say?” Kili laughed, his pinkie curling tighter around yours.

“Unbreakable. Now you have to tell me someday.”

He smiled. “Deal.”

***

You didn’t really get much sleep that night. Too much on your mind. The next morning, the dwarves packed up their supplies just as the sun was peeking over the horizon again. It was going to be quite the hike. Honestly, you were excited for it. It felt right, finally being there after everything you’d all been through to reach Erebor.

While getting ready for the day, you put some of the flowers Kili had given you in your hair, tucking them into the single braid that sat on your shoulder.

Kili gasped and you looked down at him, his eyes fixed on your bare finger, just now noticing that your ring was gone. “Amrâlimê, where’s your ring?”

“Oh.” Your eyes widened and you looked at your hand and then at him. “I guess it must have slipped off at some point.”

Kili started scanning the ground for something small and shiny. “Fili, help me look.”

“For what?”

“For (Y/N)’s ring!” Kili exclaimed, exasperated.

You bit your lip, unsure of what to do. You looked to Balin for advice, who shrugged, chuckling.

“We can look for a moment, but we must get going.” Thorin insisted. “We have no time to waste.”

“Uncle—”

“It’s okay, Kili,” you met his eyes.

“But your ring…”

You reached out and tilted his face up towards yours. “If it’s meant for me to have, it’ll find me again.

His eyes softened and he let out a breath. “You are wise beyond your years, you know.”

You shrugged, smirking. “Seems you guys have rubbed off on me.”

After the slight delay, the group got moving again, walking closer and closer to the base of the Lonely Mountain. There were footpaths up to the entrance, sure, but they were steep, and since the mountain had been uninhabited for so long, they had eroded in the weather, making it difficult to walk.

Kili went on ahead of you, offering his hand and tugging you up when the steps were too steep. Sometimes, he’d let his hand linger in yours, fiddling with your fingers. You would never forget the way he looked at you, like you were made of starlight. No person you had ever been romantically involved with had ever looked at you like that before. God, you wanted to kiss him so bad.

Finally, after hours of hiking, the group reached the landing where the secret door was hidden. You pulled out the book while one of the other dwarves consulted the map. The sun would be setting soon, so all there was to do was wait.

“Are we sure this is the spot?” Ori asked.

“Yes.” Thorin nodded. “Book Keeper?”

“We’re all good here. Just keep an eye out for the hole. Watch for it while the sun is setting just in case, but it should show up by the light of the moon.” You told them. “But yeah, make sure you double-check during the sunset, just to be safe.”

“Good, good.” The king nodded, resting for a moment. “The light of the moon?”

“Yeah. Would have been a real heart-breaking moment for a second until Bilbo spotted it when the sun went down and the moon came out. The rest of you all gave up, but he didn’t.” You told them, tucking the book away again. For a bit, you took a seat against the stone wall and drank some water, tired from the long hike.

“Are you alright? Is there anything you need?” Kili asked, kneeling in front of you.

“I’m just a little tired. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing well.” He settled in, sitting with you. “Those flowers look very beautiful in your hair like that.”

“You picked some lovely ones, what can I say?”

“Are they…adequate?” He wondered, his eyes sincere and unsure.

“They are perfect.” You assured him, taking both of his hands in yours. You so wished you could just do it here and now, just tell him everything and ask to braid that beautiful hair of his. But it was so close to the door opening. There were bigger things to deal with, more important matters at hand. “Kili…”

“Yes, Amrâlimê, what is it?” He searched your eyes.

“Can I sleep on your leg? I didn’t get very much sleep last night and things are about to get…difficult when that door is opened…”

“Oh. Yes, of course, come here.” He adjusted into a position that would be comfortable for you.

You laid down, using his thigh as a pillow, pulling your cloak around yourself as a blanket.

“Get some rest, Book Keeper.” Balin told you. “I have a feeling we’ll need you once we’re inside.”

You nodded and let yourself close your eyes. And when you did, you felt Kili’s careful fingers playing with your hair, gently lulling you to some well-needed sleep.

***

When you awoke, the sun was setting and the dwarves were watching carefully for the keyhole to open. Kili had not moved at all. His hand was still playing with your hair. You hummed and stretched, turning to look up at him. He smiled once he saw your face.

“You sleep well?”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded, sitting up. “Thank you.”

“Just in time.” Bilbo said.

The sun continued to dip beneath the hills, and soon, the moon emerged. Sure enough, there was the keyhole. You smiled. You were right. Of course you were, but it still felt good. However, you knew what else this night would bring.

“There it is…” Thorin murmured, holding up the key as the thrush knocked against the stone.

“We’ve done it. We finally made it.” Balin was clearly getting emotional, his voice betraying him.

Dwalin put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, nodding. The dwarves all stood at attention, watching anxiously as Thorin slipped the key into the hole and turned it. The door gave way, drifting open into the Lonely Mountain.

Kili’s breath stuttered and when you looked at him, his eyes were watering. You took his hand, giving it a supportive squeeze. You knew how long he’d been waiting for this moment. He’d grown up hearing tales of Erebor, their stolen homeland, and had longed to return.

Balin and Thorin lead the other dwarves inside tentatively, touching the stone walls and looking at the carvings upon them. Balin explained one of the carvings, one depicting the Throne of the Kings with the Arkenstone sitting in it, its rays of light shining out, representing the seven dwarven kingdoms.

“I cannot believe it.” Fili whispered, eyes watering as well.

The dwarves were careful to not make too much noise, but they all spent a lot of time embracing each other, celebrating silently before going back outside to wait for the Burglar to scope out the scene. Bilbo did, however, pull you aside to ask for some advice before heading down.

“Balin has requested I retrieve the Arkenstone if I find it…What advice do you have on the matter?”

“You’ll find it down there.” You knelt down to whisper in his ear, as to not be overheard. “Hold onto it. Keep it somewhere safe. You’ll need it for…the days to come. But don’t tell the others.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “Thank you.”

“When, um…when we hear the dragon start moving, we’ll come down to help. It’ll all work out.” You were confident on the matter, and that helped instill a bit of confidence in him as well. “Any other questions?”

“No, I don’t think so.” He shrugged. “Here goes nothing.”

“Master Burglar,” Kili approached suddenly, a tentative look on his face. “I have a request as well…”

“I’ll see you outside.” You told Kili before leaving the both of them there.

Fili was waiting outside with the others on the balcony where you were all waiting together. You hadn’t told them exactly what was coming, but they knew they’d need to be on alert.

“Did he tell you what he’s requesting from Bilbo?” You asked Fili.

“I’m sworn to secrecy, Book Keeper.” Fili chuckled. “He made me do a Pinkie Promise and everything.”

You laughed at that. “Well, I could never ask you to break a Pinkie Promise.”

A short while later, Kili came out to stand with the others. You looked at him, curious, but he didn’t tell you what he’d asked for, only brushed the hair out of the front of your face, warmth in his eyes.

“What now, Book Keeper?” asked Dwalin, his hands resting on his belt.

“Now we wait.” You told them. “Shouldn’t be long. Maybe an hour or so. And then we’ll need to go in there and save him.”

“Does he—”

“He knows.” You assured Dori, who looked concerned for your hobbit’s wellbeing. “I told him. We’ll go down there and drive the dragon out and then…he won’t be our problem anymore.”

“And just how do we do that?” Thorin asked.

You reached into your bag and opened the book, flipping to pretty close to the end of it. “In the book, he just kind of gets pissed off and leaves. I doubt it will be that simple, though.”

“Is it ever?” Ori whined, leaning back against the stone wall.

You spent the next hour listening for any tiny sound that would signify Smaug had awoken and was chasing Bilbo. Nothing yet. You decided that waiting was the worst part, especially when you had a faint idea of what would happen next.

“Something bad is going to happen, isn’t it?” Kili asked, his voice a mere whisper. “That’s what you’ve been so stressed about lately.”

“Everything with Smaug is…easy compared to what comes after.” You confessed. Until that moment, you thought you’d been hiding it well, but Kili saw right through the façade. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

“Mmm…” Kili nodded, taking your hand in his, admiring your fingers before bringing it to his lips. “I will not let anything happen to you. None of us will.”

You nodded, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him it was him you were worried about.

Soon enough, there was a loud rumbling from within the mountain. You all got to your feet and rushed inside, down the spiraling staircases to the massive treasure hoard of Thror. It was…even more massive than you could have possibly imagined. And at the center of it all, was Bilbo, scrambling to get away from the massive beast.

You gulped. There he was. Smaug the Terrible. Big, monstrous, and coming straight at all of you. Fire welled in the dragon’s throat and you all ducked behind a marble staircase.

“You dare challenge me, dwarves?! Over the inconsequential life of one little hobbit?!”

“You think yourself so terrible, Smaug?! You underestimate our strength!” Thorin bellowed. The group split up, distracting the dragon, going separate ways all with one goal: the forges.

Unsure of where you were going, you, Kili, and Fili followed quickly after Thorin, down, down, down the massive fortress into its depths. Erebor was impossibly large, and, seeing it for the first time, you doubted you’d ever learn your way around it.

Smaug’s fiery breath nearly scathed you a few times. Its heat was close and scorching, giving you an even better motivator to keep moving. Eventually, the group all made it down to the forges. You counted the heads as quickly as you could, and when you did, you sighed in relief. This didn’t last long, however, as Smaug quickly rose from the stairwell, peeking through the massive gate that barred him from entering the forge.

The dwarves took cover behind massive metal beams, as did you, however, Smaug didn’t breathe fire, as you’d expected him to. Instead, you heard him land on the other side of the gate, an intrigued growl forming in his throat. You heard a loud clang and then felt his sharp claws cut through your pants as he scratched you, reaching carefully between the large metal bars.

You let out a yelp and collapsed to the floor, using your arms to scurry back, out of his range. It seemed you were bleeding, but it didn’t look like it was too deep.

“You.” He hissed, his eye staring at you, helpless on the ground. “You do not belong here.”

“M-Me?” You asked, staring up at him. The dwarves moved uncertainly, some of their eyes on you, some of their eyes on the beast.

“Yes, you. Mortal girl with the ears of an elfling.” His eyes narrowed and then he snarled, “Book Keeper. You reek of the Mortal Realm.”

Your eyes widened and your heart began pounding even harder in your chest. “I—”

“It’s endearing, really. That you think your existence here matters.” He shook his head. “That you could save them from me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. That was not the way the story went. It never had been. Although maybe Smaug’s dragon-sized ego had caused him to overlook that part.

“Leave her!” Kili shouted, rushing in front of you and leaving the safety of his post.

“Kili, don’t—!” But that didn’t stop him from pulling you off of the floor, supporting your weight with an arm around your waist, a weapon in his other hand, pointed at the dragon.

Kili’s expression darkened, fire in his eyes. “Harm her again and it’ll be the last thing you ever do. I swear it.”

Smaug laughed. “The dwarf cares for you? Despite the fact that you have no right to exist here? Hilarious. And pathetic.”

“She has every right!” Fili joined his brother and your heart raced even faster as every other dwarf and Bilbo stood in front of you, ready to defend you from the massive dragon beyond the gate.

“You know how this story ends, don’t you?” Smaug asked, his voice arrogant. He took a few heavy steps further. “You cannot win. There is no happily ever after. Not for you and certainly not for them.” You could see the fire welling in his chest, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, the fire exploded from his mouth.

It was too late. You nor the dwarves had time to take cover. It would all be for nothing. The journey, your friendship, all of your moments with them…burned to ash.

In that same moment, your hand shot forward, and as if by magic, the flames dispersed as though hitting an impenetrable bubble, a halo protecting you, Bilbo, and the dwarves.

A tear streaming down your cheek, you stood there, hand extended, protecting them with whatever magic this was, whatever power had been hidden inside you all along. Your gaze hardened and though you couldn’t see it, your eyes shined gold like the endless treasures inside the mountain. “I’m writing my own ending, slug.”

Smaug’s fire fizzled and he gasped as though it was being stolen from him, pulled straight from his mouth. He coughed. His chest lit orange, like he was preparing to breathe more fire, but the light inside of him flickered before going out completely. His eyes narrowed at you. “What have you done?!”

“Not sure. Want to find out what else I can do?”

Snorting angrily, Smaug turned around. You heard the breaking of stone and then nothing.

Your knees wobbled, a wave of exhaustion washing over you as you lowered your hand. The dwarves all murmured in amazement and confusion as the dragon fled. You collapsed, but Kili caught you on the way down, his strong arms softening the blow of your knees on the cold marble floors.

“How…how did you…?” Bilbo mumbled, confused.

“I don’t know.” You told him. “I…I don’t have any magic.”

“Well, that certainly looked like magic to me, lass.” Balin said, impressed with your work.

Dwalin smiled, proud. “I knew you had it in you.”

“Let’s make sure he’s left before getting too comfortable.” Thorin insisted.

“Good plan.” You told him, trying to stand, but finding your strength depleted.

Thorin shook his head. “Book Keeper, stay here. You’ve done enough for us for one night. Oin, gather supplies to treat her wound. Kili, you stay with her until she’s fit to move again.”

“I will.” Kili nodded, watching as the others left.

You exhaled a shaking breath, collapsing into his arms. Kili knelt there with you for a long moment, your breathing heavy, shoulders shaking. He held you, careful but firm, his touches deliberate and comforting.

After a while, you pulled away to look up at him, ash smeared on his face and pure starlight in his eyes.

“Kili…” Your eyes watered, voice wobbling. “You…”

“It’s alright.” He brushed the tear from your cheek. “We’re alright, look at me.”

You choked out a sob, staring at him for a long moment before finally, finally…

One of your hands rose to his cheek, tilting his face up to yours. You looked into his eyes for a moment and then leaned in, pressing your lips to his. He reciprocated immediately, like he’d been kissing you for centuries, his lips exploring yours, passionate and soft. Your heart pounded as your noses clashed, your hand wandering back into his hair and his strong arms tugging your body closer to his, chests flush with one another. The feeling of his scruff against your skin was everything you’d imagined it’d be that drunken night in the tavern.

After several minutes, you finally pulled apart, resting your forehead against his, your breathing heavy.

“It means ‘My Love.’” He told you, stopping to take a long, shaking breath. “Amrâlimê. It means ‘My Love.’ And I call you that because…you are my One. I’ve known since that night in the Shire when I turned the corner and saw you standing there.”

“Kili…” Your voice was soft. “The whole time?”

“I didn’t want to…scare you off.” He chuckled at the ridiculous notion. “I know humans don’t have Ones, even here. But that is no excuse. I should have told you so long ago. My brother has made that known at every opportunity.”

You slipped your bag off of your shoulder and onto the floor, reaching into it for a very special pouch. “I didn’t lose my ring.”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

You tilted the pouch’s contents into your palm and held up the courting bead you had created from it instead. “I…”

“Is this a courting bead?” He asked, disbelief heavy in his tone and tears welling in his eyes. “You…you made this? You’d give up your ring…?”

“For you.” You set it in his palm and cupped his face in both of your hands. “I love you, Kili. I love you so much, and…if you’d let me, I’d like to braid your hair, court you the proper dwarf way.”

He let out a sob, throwing his arms around you and holding you tight. “I…I thought you’d never ask.” He pulled away to press another passionate kiss to your lips. “B-but my bead isn’t finished yet. I…I asked Bilbo to find an emerald for me, the finishing touch.” He touched his nose to yours, smiling softly. “They’ll match.”

“I can wait as long as you need me to.” You assured him, kissing him again, and then one more time for good measure. “I would wait a century for you, Kili.”

“I can’t believe this is happening…” He smiled into another kiss. “We must tell the others. Can you walk?”

“I think so.” You nodded, the two of you getting to your feet.

You were a little wobbly, but Kili took one of your arms around his shoulder, supporting you every step of the way. Sure, your leg hurt a bit, but you could hardly think about it after everything that had just transpired.

Eventually, you both came upon the other dwarves, who had started clearing out the commons. Some of them, Balin and Bilbo and Thorin, were out on a balcony, watching Smaug as he flew off towards Laketown. Oin had set up a makeshift infirmary in the corner of the room, and as soon as Fili saw you and his brother enter, he rushed over, taking your other arm and helping you to the cot.

“Does it hurt?” Kili asked as they set you down and Oin started examining the mark.

“A little.” You winced as the older dwarf poked at it.

“It’s not too deep and the bleeding has already stopped.” Oin noted. “It will probably hurt for a few days, but it should heal up just fine, lass.”

“Thank you, Oin.”

“I’ll apply a salve and get you wrapped up.”

Oin rummaged through his supplies while Bilbo rushed into the room, an excited expression on his face. “They shot Smaug down! The people of Laketown, they shot him down before he even reached the edge of town!”

The dwarves burst into joyful celebration, but you sat there in shock. Huh. Maybe warning Bard had some unforeseen consequences…

“Oh shit.” Your eyes widened. “He didn’t…burn the town down?” As Oin tended to your wound you reached for the book, desperately flipping to the end.

“He…he didn’t have any fire.” Bilbo said, his voice quiet.

“That…might be a problem.” You told him, taking your lip between your teeth. “Or not…? I really…wow, I didn’t see that coming.”

Before anyone could say anything else, Thorin and Balin returned to the fold, accompanied by none other than Gandalf the Gray. The relief was palpable as soon as you saw him. Good. At least now you’d have him to talk to.

When he spotted you amongst the dwarves, a mischievous twinkle gleamed in his wise old eyes. “Ah, the Book Keeper. Making a splash, I see.”

“Yeah, it seems like it.”

“There is much we must discuss.” Gandalf said. “Oin, are you done with her?”

“Aye.” Oin nodded. You stood and followed Gandalf further into the depths of Erebor, out of earshot of the other dwarves. As you were walking away, you spotted Kili in the corner of your eye as Bilbo handed him what appeared to be the aforementioned emerald.

“So, where do we even begin…?” Gandalf murmured, lighting his pipe as he settled into the chair at the end of the table that appeared to have been the grand dining room a long time ago. There was quite a bit of dust. “I suppose we’ll start with something light; How’s Kili?”

You laughed. “Kili is good. No poisoned arrow to the leg, no near-death in Laketown…and um, we’re actually…well, we’ll be courting soon.”

“Dwarvish courting rituals?” Gandalf raised his eyebrows. “I must say, I’m impressed. Show me the bead.”

You pulled it out of its pouch and handed it to the wizard, who smiled a knowing smile once he examined it.

“I thought that claddagh ring might come in handy, although I must admit, not for this exact purpose.” He noted, smug. “Congratulations! Well, onto the…other matters at hand…Laketown seems to be rather in-tact, does it not?”

“Yeah, that, um…just happened. Smaug got me in the leg, one thing came to another, and he breathed fire at us, but I…stopped it? I think. With a…well, with like a force-field. A bubble around me and the others.”

“Oh…very interesting indeed…” Gandalf thought on this for a moment, inhaling from his pipe before letting the smoke tumble from his lips. “That is something I did not foresee.”

“I think it…weakened Smaug. It was like I stole his fire.” Your voice came out soft and uncertain. “That’s probably why…”

“Very possible.” He nodded. “Well, I suspect that soon, the Master and the rest of the town will be here, demanding their pay.”

“You don’t think that’ll change?”

“I doubt it. And Thranduil and his forces are on their way as well. It seems the Battle of Five Armies is still coming.”

You were quiet for a long time. “Um…Gandalf…”

His voice softened when he saw the look on your face. “Yes, my dear, what’s wrong?”

“I can save him, right? That’s why I’m here? To save them?” You asked, your voice catching.

Gandalf reached across the table, letting his hand settle on top of yours. “I picked you for a reason, (Y/N). I would not have chosen you if I didn’t believe it could be done. And now that you are here…you are not alone. I think you know that.”

You nodded. You blinked and a tear slipped down your cheek.

“You know what they say, my dear, love is unpredictable. It seems you’ve recently learned just how powerful it can be.”

“Thank you.”

He gently wiped the tear from your cheek. “Don’t thank me yet. Celebrate with the dwarves. Celebrate with your beloved. You’ve earned it. I’ll be seeing you soon.”

***

Gandalf spoke with the rest of the company briefly before leaving, you assumed, to see where the elves were setting up camp, if they really were that far in their journey. You hoped you’d at least get a few days of peace before the war broke out. You needed it.

Bombur cooked up one hell of a dinner and Dori had gone digging through the wine cellars to find something extra special for the company to celebrate with. Oin had changed your bandages once, but when he did, he noticed that your wound had already mostly closed up. You were going to be just fine. Well, physically anyway.

You’d changed into the dress you’d gotten in Laketown, the green one embroidered with purple wildflowers, not unlike the ones Kili had given you.

“You look lovely.” Fili complimented. “Is that the one from the market?”

“It is.” You smiled and did a little spin. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

“Take a look for yourself.” Fili motioned tilted his head towards his brother on the other side of the room, staring at you with stars in his eyes. Fili’s hand touched your shoulder before he walked off with Bofur and Dwalin to get everything ready for the feast.

Kili walked to you, staring up at you in awe. He gently touched the fabric of your dress. “Is this new? I’ve never seen you wear this before.”

“I got it in Laketown.” You confirmed. “Do you like it?”

“Oh, Amrâlimê, I love it.” He brushed the loose hairs out of your face, and pulled yours down to his, kissing you gently. “Emerald green happens to be my favorite color.”

“It does?”

“Well, it’s my second favorite color.” He admitted, his voice soft. “My first favorite is the color of your eyes.”

Your heart welled with warmth and your lips crashed against his once more, his kiss stealing the air from your lungs until you were interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. So, laughing, the two of you joined the others for the celebration.

You all settled in the dining hall Gandalf had taken you to. Some of the dwarves had cleaned up a bit, dusting areas where you’d be eating. Balin got some of the torches going to bring light to the place. It was so big. The ceilings were impossibly high, the walls carved into green marble. It was a place that had been expertly crafted by the most talented architects around, you were sure of it. There was care and skill put into every detail.

“Would you like some wine, Book Keeper?” Dori asked, a bottle in his hand.

“Just a little this time. I think we all remember what effect alcohol has on me.”

The others laughed softly. You were in the seat beside Kili’s and he kept resting his hand on your thigh beneath the table, the warmth of his hand causing similar warmth to pool in your stomach.

“You two look rather glowing this evening.” Fili smirked. “Any news you’d like to share with the rest of us?”

“Ah, yes.” Kili cleared his throat and the chattering dwarves all sat at attention. “Uncle, if I may…”

“Please do.” Thorin nodded his head, expectant.

“Our beautiful Book Keeper has presented me with a courting bead.” Kili said, his hand slipping into yours. “And I have obviously accepted her proposal because…she is my One. We’ll begin our courtship after tonight’s feast.”

The company burst into cheers and applause that echoed off of the walls of the dining hall.

Thorin reached to his nephew, putting a hand atop Kili’s. “Congratulations, nephew.” He looked to you. “And congratulations, (Y/N).”

“Thank you, your highness.” You nodded your head.

“No, no more titles.” Thorin shook his head. “You are one of us now. You can refer to me as Thorin, if you wish.”

You knew in your heart that he was right. This was your family. These were your people. And now, more than ever, you were honored to be surrounded by them.

“Tomorrow, we’ll have a meeting discussing further steps and the things to come, but tonight, we have much to celebrate.” Thorin announced.

The feast that followed was perhaps the best celebration you’d experienced with them thus far. Some of the dwarves got very intoxicated, including Ori, who was laying on the floor in front of the fireplace, mumbling something about cheese. Fili and Kili had a few drinks together, but Kili had stopped drinking before the others to prepare for what was to come.

Fili, Gloin, and Dori left for a while at some point and when they returned, Fili whispered something to his brother who laughed and thanked him. After a while, everything seemed to calm down. Some of the dwarves wandered the halls to find a place to sleep, and Kili took that as his opportunity to escort you to the bedrooms.

In a place the size of Erebor, there were countless bedrooms, but Kili led you down the halls to what you felt was a very sacred place, lit with torches. And along the floor, there was a trail of wildflower petals, not unlike the kind Kili had given you, leading into one of said bedrooms.

“These are the rooms set aside for the royal family.” Kili explained, kissing your hand. “The one at the end of the hall is for the king. The one next door is the one set aside for Fili because he is the heir, and this one has been prepared for us.” He pushed open the door, and led you inside, closing the door behind you.

The flower petals trailed to the edge of the king-sized bed, which had been dusted and dressed with fresh bedding. The entire room was clean. There was a pair of large closets carved into the wall, a large window with a bench seat beneath it, a large desk and a giant bookshelf. The torches were lit, casting the room in warm firelight, although you could imagine just how stunning it would be once the sun came up and started streaming through the windows.

On the desk, there was a vase filled of the wildflowers Kili had picked for you, their colors still as beautiful and vivid as when he’d first presented them to you.

“Do you like it?” He asked, searching your eyes.

“It’s perfect, Kili.” You reassured him, squeezing his hand. You reached into your bag and pulled out the pouch containing the courting bead. “How do we do this?”

He grinned, cheeky. “What, the other’s didn’t tell you the specifics?”

You smirked. “Let’s just say I’m a hands-on learner.”

Kili pulled you in for a kiss, his lips a little firmer now than they had been during your previous kisses, a hand wandering into your hair. While your lips were on his, he tugged you to the bed by your hips and the two of you sat on its edge side by side. He lingered for a long moment before pulling away to reach into his pocket.

Very carefully, he presented his courting bead. It was a little thinner than the one you’d made for him, a more intricate band with a swirling silver design, some leaves carved into the precious metal. In the center of it, was a beautiful glimmering emerald cut into an oval. You gasped when you saw it. Kili had obviously been working on this for quite some time.

You immediately teared up. “Oh my god, it’s beautiful.”

He grinned. “I’m glad you think so.” Kili rested his forehead against yours, his lips mere inches away. “I’m sorry it took me so long, Amrâlimê. I’m sorry all of this has taken so long. If I could do it all over again, I’d have told you the way I felt that first night in the Shire. I have wasted so much time unable to kiss you. And oh, how I have wanted to kiss you.”

You kissed him, your movements long and slow. You felt him smile against you before you mumbled, “That makes two of us.”

“Until recently, I didn’t know that the men of your kind were supposed to initiate courting—sorry, dating." He admitted. “Fili um…”

“I know. He told me.” You chuckled.

Kili laughed sheepishly. “Oh.”

“There’s no real hard and fast rule, but generally speaking, it usually is the men that make the first move.” You told him, a thumb rubbing his cheek. “I don’t mind waiting, though. I’m pretty patient. And the flowers you picked for me are very beautiful.”

“So it starts with flowers. What comes after?”

“It doesn’t always start with flowers, but they are definitely a good way to tell someone you’re interested. After that, they usually ask you on a date. They’ll take you somewhere, a restaurant or a theater or somewhere more creative than that. They might hold your hand or kiss you. If the date goes well, you usually plan another one.”

He smiled, his eyes exploring yours. “That sounds fun.”

“It is sometimes.”

“And then what?”

“And then, after a handful of dates, they ask you to be their partner, their boyfriend or girlfriend. And you keep going on dates and getting to know eachother. Sometimes you move in together, sometimes you wait. And after a long while, they propose.”

“Propose…?”

“Right. Um, they propose a marriage engagement. A betrothal, I guess you would call it.”

“Ah.” He smiled, nodding as he took in the information. “Well, I will need more details on how to properly do that when the time comes.” Kili took your hands. “But for now, I’m going to teach you how to do courtship braids.”

Kili fetched a brush from the desk and returned to you, gently brushing the tangles out of your hair. “Now, the courtship braids are typically done to mirror one another, so that when we’re standing side by side, they’ll be next to each other.” He told you, pressing a kiss to your cheek and then your neck.

You flushed at his warmth, at the softness of his lips against your tender skin. “That’s romantic.”

“It is.” He agreed. “Which side would you like yours on?”

“The right.”

Kili began to very expertly braid the hair on the right side of your head. It was something similar to the French braids you’d done as a girl, although it didn’t incorporate all of your hair. It sat in the middle of the hair on the right side of your head, some hair in front of and behind it. Once he reached the ends of your hair, he secured it with the courting bead he had spent so long crafting.

And then, you did the same to him, on the left side of his head. He talked you through the process with encouragement and soft laughter, and at the end, you decided it looked pretty good. Kili helped you secure it in a way that would ensure it wouldn’t come out. The bead looked good against his dark hair, contrasting well.

Once it was in place, Kili cupped your face in his warm, calloused hands, touching his nose to yours. He exhaled a long breath.

“I love you, (Y/N).” He said the words slowly, significantly. They sat heavy on his tongue. He gazed into your eyes. “I want to build a life with you and now that we’re here…it finally feels real.”

“I know what you mean,” you whispered. “I can’t imagine a life without you in it.”

You knew then that the two of you were sitting in the eye of the storm, that in a few days or maybe longer, there would be elves and men and orcs at the front gates of Erebor, ready for battle. You didn’t know what the future held, not for certain. But you knew as long as you lived, you would always love Kili, whether or not you got to spend that time by his side.

You had loved Kili since he was mere paper and ink to you, you loved him now that he was flesh and blood and warmth, and you would love him forever, even if he was just a distant memory.

And so, you kissed him with a little more passion that night, held him a little tighter in your arms, relished in the feeling of his skin against yours, his hair between your fingers, and his lips slotted to your own. You loved him like it was your last night together, and for all you knew, it was.

***

The next morning, sun streamed through the window, casting the room in color and light. By the time you opened your eyes, Kili was still asleep on the pillow beside you, deep snores rumbling from his lips and one of his thick arms around your waist. His courting bead glistened in his braid, the only one adorning his soft hair.

You admired him for a long, quiet moment. He looked so peaceful. Your handsome prince. You pondered it for a bit, what your wedding might look like. What your life together would look like after. The details were fuzzy and uncertain, but your heart ached to know, to get that chance when all the dust had settled.

His face did look rather human, you supposed, taking his face into consideration now that you finally had a good, long, intimate look at it. The others in the company, aside from maybe Thorin and Fili, all had a very different look about them, something more distinctly dwarvish that you couldn’t put a finger on. Perhaps it was their noses. But Kili…if he were a little taller, he’d fit seamlessly into your own realm, you were sure.

You laughed internally at the thought. You weren’t sure what Kili would think of your realm, in all honesty. It was quite different than the one you had spent the last several months in, that was for sure.

Kili stirred, blinking a few times before his eyes truly settled on you, bathed in sunlight on the pillow in front of him. He smiled.

“Good morning.” He whispered, his voice impossibly deep with sleep. He reached up to brush the stray hairs out of your face. “You know, I had quite the dream last night.”

“Whatever might it have been about?”

“It had something to do with…you and I…” He murmured, scooching closer, his arms pulling you so close to him that you now shared just one pillow, mere inches between your faces. His leg slotted between your legs and his lips did not hesitate to begin exploring your own.

You smiled against him, a hand wandering into his hair to keep his face close to yours while the other found itself curled against his hairy chest. He deepened the kiss, drawing a hum from the depths of your throat.

He stopped to look at you.

“You know, I think I had the same dream.” You told him, eyes scanning every detail of his face, committing it all to memory. You wanted to remember this, how you felt in this exact moment, the honeymoon-like bliss of this first morning.

“Really…” He murmured in mock shock. “How strange.”

“Very.” You giggled a bit before finally confessing, “Kili, is now a bad time to tell you I’ve had a crush on you since I was twelve?”

His face lit up, that youthful smile you’d fallen in love with quick to overtake his features. “I knew it!” He laughed triumphantly. “I knew there was something in your eyes that night. That’s why you recognized me before you recognized the others.”

You smiled, coy. “Perhaps.”

He stole another long kiss.

“Don’t let it go to your head.” You smirked.

He grinned, mischievous. “Pshh, me? Never. But I don’t think it’ll come as a shock to the others that I’ve been your favorite dwarf since the very beginning. You’re not very good at hiding it, you know.”

“Really. Good to know; I’ll have to make more of an effort, then.”

He touched the tip of his nose to yours. “Well…I wouldn’t worry about hiding it too much. I think they can handle the news. They’ll just have to accept the fact that I’ve won the race to your heart.”

“There wasn’t anyone else in the running. It’s only ever been you.”

Kili smirked, kissing you one last time before saying, “I know.”

The two of you got dressed for the day and walked down to breakfast together, hand in hand. Bilbo perked up at the sight of you, smiling warmly when he saw your matching braids tied with matching beads.

“Good morning, lovebirds.”

“Morning, Bilbo.”

“Sleep well?” The hobbit asked innocently, sipping a cup of tea.

Gloin chuckled and muttered, “I’m not sure they did much sleeping, lad,” which caused said hobbit to promptly choke on said tea.

You laughed and sat down in the spot you’d been sitting the night previous, beside Kili, who got you each a serving of food. By now, he knew all of your favorites by heart. He set the plate in front of you and punctuated it with a long kiss on your cheek. Now this you could get used to.

It was so nice to have everything out in the open, not that it had been that much of a secret before. Now there was just one last challenge to conquer, that of your lover’s impending doom.

The rest of the dwarves trickled in slowly, grabbing some breakfast before taking a seat at the long table. Thorin was the last of them and he looked absolutely exhausted. There were dark bags beneath his eyes, a slowness to his step. He sat at the end of the table all at once. It could have been the new environment causing this, you reasoned. An unfamiliar bed, an unfamiliar peace and quiet that he hadn’t been accustomed to on the road. There was, however, a little voice in the back of your head that warned of what would happen to Thorin because of all of the gold in that seemingly endless treasure room.

You’d forgotten about it until now, and you deeply hoped you were wrong.

Your concerns subsided a bit when he noticed the beads in yours and Kili’s hair and smiled, proud of his nephew. Thorin was still in there. He could be reasoned with, you were sure. Although, you weren’t sure how long that would last.

Once he got some food, he started the meeting.

“So, Book Keeper, Smaug is dead. What comes next?”

You were quiet for a moment, figuring how best to word it. “So…they call it the Battle of Five Armies.”

“Battle…?” some of the dwarves murmured.

“The five armies being the dwarves, the men of Laketown, the elves of Mirkwood, and two groups of orcs, or, in some interpretations, the orcs and their wargs. It’s…well, it’s not good. First, the men and the elves will come. The men will want compensation for slaying Smaug, and also the gold they were promised while we were in town. The elves come because…well, because Thranduil wants pretty elvish gems or something…”

Thorin nodded. “The white gems. I am familiar.”

“Right. And the orcs come because…they’re orcs. I don’t really know their motivation other than the fact that they crave violence. When the orcs arrive, the elves and men aid us in the battle, but there are…casualties.” You said the word carefully, trying to hide how much it hurt. You knew Kili noticed, though. Sometimes, you swore he felt your emotions.

“Are there more dwarves than just us, lass?” Dwalin spoke up, leaning against the table as he weight the information you were presenting.

“Yes. I believe you call for your cousin, Dain and his forces. They arrive and they do fight alongside everyone else.”

“I’ll send for him today, then.”

You nodded. “That would probably be a good idea, yeah. Um, Gandalf said he was going to check on the status of things, to see where the elves were, I think.”

Thorin was quiet for a moment before asking the one question you were fearing. “And what of the Arkenstone? Is it here?”

“It is here. Somewhere. I’m not sure exactly where though. The book tends to skim over details like that sometimes.” It wasn’t technically a lie. You didn’t know where it was, although you did have a pretty good estimate…

Thorin nodded, his face serious. He thought for a long moment. “We’ll need to get the forges going as soon as possible, ready armor and weapons for battle. The bedrooms and kitchens will need to be prepared. We are about to have several guests…”

The king beneath the mountain designated roles to the party to prepare the place for war. Balin stayed at the table to ask you further questions.

“So what are we to do when they arrive at the gates, lass?” He quieted his voice despite the fact that the king had gone down to the treasure room with his nephews to look for the Arkenstone. “Would Thorin not have honored his promise?”

“He, um…” You shook your head. “Things are going to get weird around here. He succumbs to dragon sickness; it clouds his judgement. He breaks his promise to the men and hesitates to join the fight at all, despite the fact that his people are out there fighting the attacking orcs. I’m hoping we can steer him otherwise this time around, but…it might be difficult to break through to him.”

“If anyone can, I’m sure it’s us.” Balin nodded. His face fell, though, before he asked the next question on his mind. “And these…casualties?”

You were quiet for a long, long moment. You opened your mouth to speak, but instead, you burst into tears.

“Oh, lass…” Balin stepped closer, putting an arm around you to comfort you.

You flipped to the page in the book and handed it to Balin, marking the second time ever someone other than you had gotten a glimpse inside of it, and at that same section, too. Balin read it silently and nodded, solemn.

“I feared as much.”

“It’s…that’s the reason I’m here at all.” You finally admitted, wiping the tears from your cheeks. Balin offered you a handkerchief. “When Gandalf came to me…that was my end of the deal, the promise that I could…change things. Save him. Save all of them.” You took a shaking breath. “It’s not written in that part, but…Thorin doesn’t make it either…”

“Mmm…” Balin hummed, his voice low. “Does anyone else know?”

“Bilbo does.” You confessed. “He, um…found me crying about it in Laketown the night before we left. But that’s it. Just you two. And Gandalf, obviously.”

“I wouldn’t tell the lads.” He advised, his voice trembling the smallest bit. “I think it would make them nervous. Could make it worse.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, but…Kili knows there’s something going on. I don’t know if I’ll be able to hide it from him.”

“He loves you.” Balin nodded. “And I know you love him, too. And I know how much it must have hurt you to carry it this long. But I will not let that happen to either of them and I know you will not either. We saw what happened with the dragon…maybe there’s a way to bring that power in you out again.”

You nodded, considering it. “That’s actually a really good idea.”

Balin rested his hand atop yours. “We’ll figure it out, lass.”

***

Later that day, the dwarves congregated on the training grounds to brush up on battle skills. Kili had spent most of the afternoon readying the archery range while the others sharpened weapons and reinforced shields. Thorin was the only one not present. He was still searching the treasure room for that damn Arkenstone.

Balin had informed the others of the plan, to awaken that magic inside of you again, so they were all brainstorming methods of doing so.

“Maybe it has to do with the fire.” Nori suggested. “The fire of the dragon oncoming.”

“Perhaps…” Balin nodded.

“Worth a try.” You agreed.

“Here goes.” Gloin shrugged, preparing a flaming torch.

Kili’s eyes widened, stepping between you and the flame. “Now wait just a second, are we sure this is the best way to figure it out?”

“The lad is right.” Oin nodded. “There was real danger involved with the dragon. Perhaps it’s the intensity of the battle that sets her off.”

“No!” Kili protested. “Does anyone have any ideas that do not involve hurting my beloved?”

The others laughed, thinking for a moment.

Dwalin had a mischievous look on his face. “I have a theory.” Then, out of nowhere, he threw a dagger at Kili.

Without even thinking, your hand shot out in front of you and before the dagger made contact with Kili, it bounced away, defying the laws of physics as though it had hit a bubble, clattering to the ground moments later.

Everyone stood there in shock, staring at you and Kili and your outstretched hand.

“Oh.” You said softly, lowering your arm and staring at your palm.

“The lass wasn’t the only one in danger that day, remember.” Dwalin crossed his arms, smirking proudly. “She’s a protector, whether she’s realized it or not.”

“She’s been protecting us with her knowledge all this time.” Balin agreed with his brother and took your hand. “And now, you’ve found a magic of your own.”

“And I intend to use it.” You told the rest of them. “I came all this way. We all did. I’m…I’m not going to let anything happen to any of you. This battle is the reason I’m here; the rest of it was just the icing on the cake.”

“We trust you.” Fili said, meeting your eyes. “We all do.”

Your heart ached. It was still scary, thinking of the oncoming battle and everything it could cost if you didn’t succeed. But this power inside of you, this love you held for the company, you knew it wouldn’t let you down. You knew you wouldn’t let them down.

You couldn’t.

***

That night, you didn’t get very much sleep. It started with a nightmare. Your subconscious had chosen this exact moment to remind you that you had watched the extended edition of the Battle of Five Armies once. Seeing Kili lifeless and pale, laying on that stone slab, lit by gentle flickering lights…You’d all but forgotten what their funeral had looked like. You wish you’d never remembered.

You woke with a start, sitting straight up and breathing heavy, trying to clear the image from your mind. There would be no funeral. It was fine. Everything was fine. Except, that didn’t seem to stop the tears from flowing.

Kili was still sleeping. You didn’t want to wake him; he’d need his rest for the days to come. So, you slipped out of the bed as quietly as you could and walked through the halls to the kitchens. Dori had been kind enough to organize all of the tea and polish some of the teapots. You put on a kettle and waited for the water to boil.

You heard footsteps coming down the hall and wiped at your tears, partially expecting it to be Kili. You were surprised, however, when it was Bofur that came through the doorway.

“I knew I heard someone in here. Thought you might be my brother.” He chuckled. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nightmare.” You told him, shrugging when the kettle started to scream. You pulled it off of the hot burner and switched off the heat, pouring yourself a cup of hot water and beginning to steep some Chamomile in it.

“Ah…Sorry to hear that, lass.” He nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I kind of…can’t. It’s about the days to come…” You sighed. “Specifically about the worst possible outcome.”

“I see.” Bofur hummed. “Well, if it is what I think it is…I don’t foresee it happening. You’ve kept us out of trouble. This too will pass.”

You nodded, sniffling. “I’m just scared. I know I can do it, especially after training today, but…if I fail…”

“Right.” He nodded. “I had nightmares before we left home, you know. Us dwarves…we all pretend to be so fearless, but I was very afraid we wouldn’t make it here. That it would all be for nothing. I know you fear…losing him. But I think he fears losing you too, lass. Sometimes, fear is all that’s keeping us alive.”

You were quiet for a long moment, letting it sink in. Bofur was right. “You’re wiser than the others give you credit for, you know.”

He laughed. “Yeah, well…you pick up some things in your travels.”

You sipped your warm tea.

“The courting braid suits you.” He noted. “Do you mind if I take a closer look at the bead Kili made?”

“I don’t mind.” You lifted the braid from your shoulder and presented it to him so he could see.

Bofur’s eyes scanned the bead and he smiled. “I saw him working on it on the boat to Laketown. I don’t think he knew then that you had plans of making one at all.” He chuckled. “I could tell he was getting desperate to tell you how he felt.”

“Oh yeah. He had Fili ask me for human courting rituals.”

“Now that, I did not know.” Bofur laughed. “Hence the wildflowers, I presume.”

“Yeah, exactly.” You giggled, taking another sip of tea.

Another set of footsteps trekked down the hallway, this time coming from the direction of the royal chambers. Sure enough, it was Kili. He looked relieved when he found you.

“There you are, Amrâlimê.” He walked into the kitchen. “Are you alright? Why did you leave?”

“I had a nightmare.” You confessed. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Have you been crying?” He noticed your tearstained cheeks as he got closer, his warm fingers slotting into their place along your jaw.

“A bit.” You nodded.

“Come back to bed.” He whispered, kissing your nose. His other hand slipped into yours and squeezed.

“Okay.” A tear slipped down your cheek and he was quick to wipe it away, leading you back down the halls to your shared room after the two of you bid a final goodnight to Bofur.

Kili closed the door behind you and walked to the bed, pulling the covers open for you. You settled back onto the comfortable mattress, laying on your side.

“Now, what is it that has you so worked up, my love?” He whispered, an arm settling around your waist. “You’ve been crying a lot lately, haven’t you?”

You responded with more tears, crawling into his arms and burying your face in his shoulder. He held you tight, doing his best to comfort you with his touch.

“Oh, hey, hey, it’s alright. We’re alright.” He said, his voice soft and sincere. “You don’t have to tell me if it hurts too much. Is it nightmares about spiders?”

“No…” You shook your head, your voice muffled by the fabric of his sleep shirt.

“Goblins? Smaug?”

“No.”

“Mmm, so something very scary, then?”

You took a shaking breath. “The scariest thing I can imagine.”

“Hmmm…” He hummed thoughtfully, his hand gently stroking your hair. “Do you want to know what the scariest moment of this trip has been for me?”

“What?”

“When that goblin king hoisted you into the air by the ends of your hair, dangling you above the rest of us, threatening to torture you right in front of me mere hours after I’d finally gotten to hold you in my arms for the first time.” He shook his head. “And the second was when that accursed dragon hurt you and started threatening you. My worst nightmare…is losing you.”

You took a shaking breath, pulling away so you could look into his eyes, bathed in the moonlight streaming through the window.

“I put the pieces together a while ago.” His voice shook. “I know…I’m not meant to survive the battle. In the story you read growing up, anyways.”

A tear rolled from your eye and your breath caught in your throat. “Kili…”

“I thought it might be the dragon that got me. I didn’t know there would be…more danger after.” His thumb expertly swiped your tear away. “And I don’t blame you for not telling me. But I’m not scared. Not of that.”

“Why?”

“It’s like you told Smaug. My ending is getting a rewrite, and I trust you with the pen.” He touched his nose to yours. “The way I see it, I know for certain I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you, whether I have two more days or two more centuries.”

You kissed him, your lips salty with tears, and his moving gently against yours. “I love you.” You sobbed.

“I know you do.” He kissed you again before rolling over and pulling you on top of him. His lips gently pecked the top of your head and he held you tight as you cried against him. “I love you too.”

***

The next day was the day Dain’s forces arrived. Thorin and the others escorted the new dwarves into Erebor and they began preparing for war, forging weapons, adjusting armor, training battle skills. Sometime in the early afternoon, Thranduil, Bard, and their armies arrived at the front gate.

You sat nearby, hidden within the walls, listening as Thorin and the dwarves heatedly debated with them. Thorin refused to give up his treasures, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the dragon sickness or if he knew they’d need their help when the orcs arrived the following day.

“Dwarves, I know you are hiding your precious little Book Keeper within those walls.” Thranduil’s arrogant voice echoed from the back of his reindeer to your very ears.

Your eyes went wide, heart racing as you listened.

“Bring her to me for a…discussion, or we begin our attack immediately.”

“Thranduil, this is madness.” You heard Bard rebuttle.

“Madness or not, I would like a glimpse into the future as well. I believe it’s only fair.”

“You’ll not have a single word with her!” Thorin shouted.

“Thorin…” Balin reasoned. “Let’s think about this.”

“What is there to think about?” Kili joined the conversation. “She is my beloved, not a bargaining piece.”

You stood up and walked to the dwarves. “I’ll go.”

Kili turned around and shook his head. “No. Amrâlimê, who knows what he wants with you? There has to be another way.”

“Maybe I can reason with them, get them all on the same page about the battle.” You tilted your head and reached into your bag, pulling out the book and handing it to Kili. His eyes widened. He’d never touched it before, let alone been entrusted with its wellbeing. “Look after this until I get back, okay?”

Kili took the book and nodded, his eyes serious. You leaned forward and pressed a long kiss to his lips before walking through the front gates. And while you were distracting the rest of the party, Bilbo was able to slip away unnoticed as well.

Thranduil looked over you with curious eyes. They were almost unnaturally blue, celestial. His hair was long, platinum blond like his son’s had been that brief moment you saw him. “Come, child.” He held out his hand and you took it, allowing him to pull you onto the back of his reindeer and take you to the ruins of Dale, where the elves and the men were camped together.

When you got to the tent where the leaders had been planning, you were pretty surprised to find Gandalf already there.

“Book Keeper, I apologize for the elf king’s…brashness. He did not believe me that you existed.” Gandalf apologized.

“It’s okay.” You assured him.

“So, tell me Book Keeper. How is it you are able to tell the future of our world? And how were you able to sneak through my palace unnoticed?”

“I have a book about the dwarves’ adventure from my realm. Where I’m from, all of this is a work of fiction. That’s how I know what’s going to happen.” You told him. “And I didn’t sneak through unnoticed. I was actually spotted by several of your guards. They all thought I was an elf, including your son.”

Thranduil stared at you with those weird, big blue eyes. He looked kinda pissed, but he was graceful about it.

“She speaks the truth.” Bard said, his eyes grateful. “Without her warning, Smaug would have burned Laketown to splinters. I was able to shoot him down before he even reached the edge of town because she told me exactly where and how and with what to shoot him. It worked.”

“I’m glad I could help.” You told him.

“She means well, Thranduil.”

“I will be the judge of that.” The elven king tilted his head, his voice cool and emotionless. “Tell me, Book Keeper, do you know why I am here?”

“You want the white gems in Erebor.”

“They belong to me.”

“That seems to be subjective.” You replied.

“How dare you, you insolent girl—”

“Thranduil, please.” Gandalf calmed him.

“What of the men, then?” Thranduil challenged, crossing his arms.

“The dwarves promised them gold in exchange for the weapons we were gifted in Laketown.” You replied. “And Thorin is being…stubborn on the matter, admittedly.”

“I have tried to argue that your tip about Smaug and the value of his hide outweighs the dwarves’ debt.” Bard informed you. “My people are being stubborn about it as well.”

“No, they’re right. Thorin should pay you for everything you all did for us. I can try to convince him, but I’m not sure he’ll budge.” You shared a look with Gandalf that told the wizard everything he needed to know.

“There is a larger problem at stake here, is there not, Book Keeper?” Gandalf pushed. “Larger than sums of gold or indebted jewels.”

“There are orcs coming. They’ll be here tomorrow. If we don’t all band together to fight them, to finish them off, they will not stop until all of Middle Earth is conquered, all of your people killed.” You told them.

“Why should I believe a word you say?” Thranduil’s eyebrows furrowed and his eyes settled in your hair. “How do I know this is not a distraction to pull my focus from what matters to me? Is that not a dwarven courting bead braided into your hair? Your interests are vested.”

“I do have a vested interest in the dwarves; of course I do. They’re my best friends, my family. One of them is the love of my life. But I have a vested interest in the rest of Middle Earth, too. I grew up on the stories of this place, stories about you, about your son, Legolas and the amazing things he’ll accomplish someday. But if the world is overrun by orcs, I don’t think any of that will happen. Sure, in the short term, the dwarves and the men would get wiped out and you’d be able to hide in Mirkwood, but you wouldn’t be able to hide forever. They’ll get you eventually and it will have all been for nothing, your eternal life wasted when you could have changed the outcome.”

Thranduil was quiet for a long moment, processing your monologue. “And say I do help you…Will you guarantee I am given what I am owed?”

“You have my word.”

Bilbo appeared in the entrance of the tent, tucking his ring into his pocket. “I’ve brought some…insurance that Thorin will pay after the Battle.”

“Bilbo?” Gandalf raised his eyebrows.

“Hello, Gandalf.” Bilbo reached into his coat and presented the Arkenstone, at which Bard’s eyes widened. “Thorin values this gem more than anything. Surely if you present it to him, he will give you what he’s promised in return.”

“How is this yours to give?” Bard murmured.

Bilbo shrugged. “I took it as my 14th share of the treasure in the mountain. With the guidance of a certain Book Keeper, of course.”

You looked from Thranduil to Bard. “Please.”

“If you can provide the women and children of Laketown safety during the battle, I swear every man will fight to the last breath.” Bard offered.

“Done.” You agreed.

Thranduil stared at the Arkenstone for a long, long while before meeting your eyes again. “Since it is orcs and not just dwarves we will be fighting…I’ll call for reinforcements.”

You exhaled in relief. “Thank you.”

“We have been collecting dragon hide from Smaug.” Bard added. “It seems only fitting to offer the dwarves some for armor.”

“Thank you, Bard. Also…do me a favor and pretend Bilbo didn’t give you the Arkenstone. Claim you…found it inside of Smaug’s remains…or something.” You asked. “It’ll save us all some trouble with the king under the mountain.”

“Done.” Thranduil nodded. “Now, my son will escort you back to Erebor, if you so please.”

Your eyes widened. “Um, sure. Thank you, your highness.”

Bilbo stuck around to talk to Gandalf for a moment while you walked outside the tent to find Legolas standing there with an amused grin.

“I saved you that dance.” He teased.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve actually…got a prince of my own waiting for me in Erebor.”

“Well, he is very lucky, then.” Legolas took your arm. He led you to his horse and helped you up onto the back of it. “I could not help but overhear that you’ve heard stories of me, where you’re from?”

“Yeah. About sixty years from now, you kind of save the world. It’s pretty awesome.”

“Mmm.” Legolas nodded, impressed. “Good to know. And I suppose you’ll be around to guide us then as well?”

“I hope so.”

The ride back to Erebor was rather short. Legolas dropped you off at the bridge, where Kili was pacing outside. He lit up when he saw you’d returned, rushing to you immediately and handing the book back to you.

“How did it go?”

“Really well, actually.” You told him, pressing your lips to his for a moment before asking, “Where’s your uncle?”

“He’s…in the treasure room.” Balin answered. “I’ll go fetch him.”

Kili walked with you back inside, his hand tight in yours. The dwarves all assembled in the throne room. Thorin, who was now wearing a large gold and silver crown on his head, sat on the throne carved from stone. He really did look the part, now.

“What did they say?” Thorin asked. “Negotiating for treasure, no doubt.”

“Partially. I told them of the orcs that are coming and…they’ve all agreed to help fight. Thranduil, in exchange for the white gems, and Bard in exchange for the gold they were promised in Laketown and the safety of their women and children during the battle.” You explained, heart racing as you watched the expression on Thorin’s face for any sign of anger. “Bard is also sending us pieces of Smaug’s hide to make armor from. They’ve been…dismantling the dragon.”

“Mmm…” Thorin hummed and then went quiet for an uncomfortable amount of time. “Book Keeper, I must admit, I am quite impressed.” He nodded, a proud look on his face. “You will make a fine princess one day.”

“Thank you.” You exhaled in relief. “The orcs will be here tomorrow, rather early in the day. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Then we will spend all night preparing.” Thorin decided. “Dwarves, to your stations. We must prepare for war.”

***

Not long after your negotiation with the other camps, the women and children of Laketown came to the gates of Erebor. At Thorin’s request, you helped them get situated and comfortable. Being a human woman yourself, the king under the mountain knew you would be able to offer them some peace of mind.

You and Dori passed out blankets and pillows and food, making sure everyone got settled in the room Thorin had designated for them. It was tucked pretty far into the mountain, so he knew they’d be safe.

You spotted Sigrid and Tilda in there with their brother Bain, discussing something. Sigrid looked up and spotted you, smiling.

“Hey, glad you guys made it. Everything going okay?”

“We’re doing well,” Sigrid smiled. “Da said you warned him about the dragon. Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course. I…your whole town was so kind to us, I couldn’t imagine letting it happen without giving you some kind of warning.” You told her, handing the girls some blankets.

“What’s that bead in your hair?” Tilda asked, pointing to the silver band holding your braid together. “It’s new, right?”

“It’s a courting bead, from Kili.” You told her, smiling.

Sigrid gasped, excited. “Does that mean that you’re finally together?”

“At long last.” You confirmed, giggling. “Yeah, he’s…he’s amazing.”

“Is that him?” Tilda pointed to the doorway and sure enough, Kili was standing there, scanning the crowd for you.

You thought it was kind of funny. Among the dwarves, you’d always stood out like a sore thumb. You were the tallest of the company, just barely taller that Dwalin, and therefore, you’d been easy to spot among them, but now, surrounded by your own kind, he had some trouble seeing you.

“Over here.” You waved, drawing his attention.

He entered the room, walking to you and taking your hand. After a moment, he recognized Bard’s kids and nodded in greeting. “If you don’t mind too much, I need to borrow our Book Keeper, get her fitted for some armor.”

“Of course.” Sigrid smiled. “Congratulations, by the way.”

Kili straightened up a bit when she said it, proud. “Thank you.”

As the two of you walked to the forges, where the others were hard at work, he pulled your hand to his lips for a kiss.

He grinned mischievously and glanced over at you. “You told them?”

“Of course I did. I’m very proud to be yours, my prince.” You said it kind of teasingly. With the other dwarves and elves and men in Erebor for the battle, the formalities were a bit more important now than they had been during the rest of the journey, bit it still felt weird addressing him with his title.

His cheeks reddened. “You don’t have to call me that, you know.”

You winked. “I know.”

“Uncle wants me to wear a crown.” He sounded annoyed talking about it. “I don’t know, it just doesn’t feel like the time for that.”

“Things will calm down after tomorrow. Reach some kind of normalcy.”

“I hope you’re right.”

You shrugged. “I usually am. It’s part of my job.”

He chuckled and shook his head at you. The two of you walked into the armory, where Dwalin was anxiously waiting for you, large pieces of Smaug’s hide waiting on a table in front of him.

“Woah…” You murmured, looking at it. “That is…wild.”

“It’s quite tough. We tested some weapons against it and most of the blades can’t pierce it.” Dwalin agreed. “Our prince here has requested that your armor be made from it.”

“Oh.” You looked over at Kili. “He has, has he?”

He took your hand with both of his, pulling it to his chest and looking up at you with those warm brown eyes. “I want you to be protected, Amrâlimê. You insist on fighting alongside us tomorrow and I know I cannot change your opinion on it, but I need to know you’ll be safe.”

“I want you to be safe, too.”

“We’re reinforcing the company’s armor as well, at Thorin’s request.” Bofur informed you from the next stall over, holding a weapon so hot it was glowing bright red.

“Good.” That did make you feel quite a bit better.

“I need your measurements, lassie. Thought you might be more comfortable if your beloved did it.” He handed Kili a tape measure and a pad of paper and winked at the dwarf prince, who chuckled and walked with you to a more private corner.

It was sort of intimate in a weird kind of way, Kili taking measurements for your breastplate, the sleeves, the length of your shoulders. And when you were done, he relayed the information to Dwalin to make sure your armor would fit correctly.

Afterwards, the two of you left the armory.

“What does Thorin have you doing for the rest of the day?” Kili asked.

“I’m on Laketown duty with Dori. Making sure all the people are comfortable, bringing them food…”

“Mmm…” Kili nodded. “Do you have anything…pressing to be doing right now?”

“Not particularly.” You answered.

“Good.” Kili grabbed your wrist and pulled you into a small storage room in the hallway. He pushed you against the wall and crushed his lips to yours, passion in every movement. You always forgot how strong he was until moments like this.

You let his lips explore your own for a good long while, limbs mingling with each other’s bodies, your fingers wandering into his soft black hair. You knew you wouldn’t have many of these moments left. In fact, this might be your last one, so you made the most of it, kissing him in a way he wouldn’t soon forget. And once you each came down from the high of your love for one another, he spent a long, quiet moment admiring your features.

“I’ll never tire of that.” He whispered, gazing up at you. “Although, I hope that the moments we steal after the battle will last longer than this.”

You leaned down and kissed him, your lips soft and slow. He melted against you, his eyes fluttering shut as he stood on his toes to be able to reach them. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him to you. It wasn’t often the two of you embraced while standing, and it was made clear why almost immediately, as Kili’s face only reached your chest, but he didn’t seem to care, his arms tight around your waist.

You rested your head against his, exhaling a long breath and just letting him hold you for a moment. “It’s going to be a long, long night, my love…” You murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

He chuckled darkly. “It already is.”

“What does Thorin have you doing?” You asked.

“Weapon maintenance, mostly.” He shrugged. “He has Fili doing a lot more.” He looked up at you, fingers gently touching your courtship braid. “I sharpened your swords.”

Your heart just about melted. “Thank you.”

“I want to make you some new ones…when things settle, of course. Some daggers, too, if you want. I’m admittedly not a very good weaponsmith, but Dwalin’s offered to teach me. It’s a dwarf thing…crafting gifts for your One, especially while courting.”

You smiled. “That’s really sweet.”

“You think so?”

“I can’t wait to learn more. All of this is still new to me.”

“Of course it is…we dwarves love our secrets.” He took your hand and pressed a kiss to each of your fingers, one by one. “And I cannot wait to tell you each and every single one of them.”

You nuzzled your nose against his. “That makes two of us.”

***

Once the sun set, the mothers started getting their children ready for bed, but many of them had trouble getting their kids to sleep. Gandalf wandered into the room, smoking his pipe. With him, he had a small red book tucked under his arm.

“Book Keeper,” he smiled, that familiar glimmer in his eye. “I’ve brought you another. Thought a story might help get the young ones to bed.”

“Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs,” you read from the cover, chuckling. “Seems appropriate.”

Gandalf nodded. “Quite.”

You rounded up all the kids for a storytime and they sat expectantly in front of you, waiting for you to begin. “Now, this is a story from my realm. There are dwarves in it, sure, but they’re not a lot like the dwarves here in Middle Earth. Their names are a little silly; there’s one named Sneezy and another named Sleepy.” Some of the kids giggled at that.

“Is there a princess?” Asked a little voice.

“Of course there is. Her name is Snow White and she is the fairest in all the land.”

“How about a handsome prince? Is there one of those?” Fili’s voice asked from the back of the room, a smirk on his face.

“There does so happen to be a handsome prince, yeah.”

“Is he a dwarf?” Kili asked, taking a seat beside his brother.

“Unlike my own, no, he’s not, unfortunately.” You smirked at him. “Come here, you wanna help me read this?”

“I suppose I could.” Kili stumbled forward, getting a little push from his brother. “But only if I get to be Sneezy.”

You smiled as he sat beside you, looking over the cover of the little red book in your hand. As the two of you read the story to the children, alternating lines, he couldn’t help but do something he’d thought was impossible: somehow, he managed to fall even more in love with you.

***

After the kids were all asleep, Thorin called the company together one last time. You all stood in a circle, Gandalf finally with you all once again.

“Tomorrow is a fateful day for us all.” Thorin looked to each member of the group. He was wearing the crown of the king and looked extremely regal. He had been born for this, raised for it. You could only hope that you’d be able to protect the line of Durin when the battle finally arrived. Maybe it was the waiting that was the worst part.

You let out a sigh, closing your eyes. Kili took your hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Burglar, Book Keeper, thank you for everything you have done for us.” Thorin pressed his lips together. “This may be our last night as a company. I do not know what tomorrow holds for us, and for the sake of our confidence…” he made eye contact with you and you could tell that some part of him must have known, “I do not wish to have any more glimpses into our future.”

“Understood.” You nodded.

His closing words sent a chill down your spine. “Eat well. Get as much sleep as you can. Tomorrow, we defend our home.”

You settled between Kili and Fili, managing to get some food down despite the sinking feeling in your stomach. It was rather quiet, given the volume you’d come to expect from the group assembled around you. One last night with them…one last night together before your new life in a still-strange land would get turned upside down for better or worse.

Some of the dwarves played instruments they had, turning to music even in their darkest moments. Bifur was sitting in the corner of the room, carving something out of wood with his knife. You leaned on Kili, your head resting against his. You felt the warmth of his arm around your waist.

Unsure of what else to do, really, you pulled out the book one last time and skimmed the words about the battle. But that was the problem: there wasn’t much. Bilbo passed out in the version in your hands, was unconscious for the majority of the action and only came to when Fili and Kili were already dead and Thorin was dying from his wounds. Not particularly helpful.

You shook your head and shut the book. You gazed into the flames for a very long time, considering chucking it in there and watching it get devoured, but you decided against it. For one, it was your only copy, and for two, you weren’t sure exactly what was tying you to Middle Earth and you didn’t want to risk getting yeeted away early. So, instead, you got up off of the floor and walked across the room, handing it to Gandalf.

“You may yet need this.” He said, his eyes twinkling with something unrecognizable.

“There’s not a lot about the battle in it…”

He looked rather surprised. “There’s not?”

You paused for a long moment. “Gandalf…do you not know what’s in the book?”

“I’ll admit, I don’t know the specifics, dear.” He chuckled and blew his pipe. “I know the big things, sure, but not every detail.”

You stared at him for another long moment. “Okay…interesting. Anyway…will you hold onto it for me? Just in case?”

“Ah. For safekeeping.” He nodded and took the book from you. “I will see that it is returned to you promptly after the battle.”

“Thank you.” You turned and walked back to where you had been sitting before, where Kili was anxiously waiting for you. Before you could settle into your original spot, he pulled you onto his lap and pressed a long kiss to your cheek. You closed your eyes and basked in his warmth and the warmth of the fire.

You looked to each member of the company in attendance, the once-timid Bilbo, your future brother-in-law, the two who had taught you how to show Kili just how much he meant to you, the healer who had treated your dragon-inflicted wound, the quiet scribe who had been writing down every detail of the adventure. It went on and on. Each dwarf had put their own unique fingerprint on your heart.

Bifur walked up to you and muttered something in Khuzdul, handing you something small. When you examined it further, you found it to be a little wooden bird, the thing he had been carving the whole night.

“He said it’s for you, so you’ll remember him when you go back home.” Kili translated for you, his voice gentle and soft and a little sad.

“Oh, Bifur, it’s beautiful.” You choked back a sob and stood, hugging the gruff dwarf, who instantly returned the gesture. “I could never forget you.” You wiped your tears away. “I could never forget any of you. I’ll…I’ll treasure all of you for the rest of my life.”

You knew in your heart that was the truth. No matter what would unfold the next day, no matter where you wound up when it was all over, the company would live in your heart forever, you were sure. In fact, you didn’t think you could forget them if you wanted to. And you could only hope that when the battle came, you’d give them a reason to remember you, too.

***

When morning came, everyone was bustling through the lonely mountain, preparing for war. There was a nervous energy floating through the air. It was getting to you too. You couldn’t remember the last time your heart had been at its normal pace, but it had been racing all day.

Watching the dwarves armor up was surreal and haunting, especially watching Fili and Kili help each other into their armor. Dwalin carried your armor to you, glimmering and red, like the autumn leaves beyond the hills. You faltered, seeing it for the first time. Smaug had been evil, sure, but you couldn’t doubt the beauty in his scales. You could only hope they’d protect you now, that they’d protect all of you.

“Kili, get your beloved ready. The elf scouts have spotted something headed this way.” Dwalin called before leaving you to attend to other duties.

Kili immediately turned his attention to you, rushing over to help you into your armor. He guided your arms into the sleeves and fastened the straps in the back, his fingers moving quickly and expertly, securing it in place. It was pretty heavy, but you felt well-protected in it.

“How does that feel?” he asked, searching your face. “Too tight?”

“It feels good. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He nodded, his hand lingering in yours for a moment.

Tears welled in your eyes and his expression melted. He pulled your face down to his, resting his forehead against yours for a long moment. “Amrâlimê, I will be with you the entire time. Fili and I will not leave your side, I swear it.” He promised, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I will not let anything happen to you. None of us will.”

“I’m not worried about me.” Your voice broke and a tear slipped down your cheek.

His eyes met yours, his expression bittersweet. This was love, he felt it in his bones. Here, in the face of your first real battle, you were worried about him.

“Dwarves! Assume your stations!” Dain and his men walked briskly through the mountain, getting everyone ready.

You swallowed and closed your eyes, wiping at your tears and pulling away from Kili. Fili handed you your weapons, freshly sharpened and ready for battle, even if you weren’t.

“Nothing to worry about, Book Keeper,” the older prince reassured you, a hand on your shoulder and confidence in his voice. “We’ve got this.”

“I hope you’re right.”

You followed the rest of the company out of the mountain and onto the battlefield where, just as you’d predicted, the Orcs tunneled through the hills opposite you all, storming out in a mighty horde. Most were on foot, but some were on the backs of their wargs.

And thus, the battle began.

Because of your warnings in advance, there were forces ready in all the places you knew the Orcs were start, and more forces ready in the places the orcs would eventually reach. The elven archers took out a good number of them as they advanced, but more Orcs poured out of the tunnels and into the open field.

You followed Kili and Fili’s lead. They barely let any Orcs get to you, but the ones that did, you were quick to dispatch with your sword. It was intense, like everything was moving at two-times speed. You kept your eyes on the boys at all times, watching for anything that could possibly harm them. In the corner of your eye, you caught Thorin a few times and made sure he wasn’t getting hurt either.

You’d lost sight of Bilbo a long time ago, and the rest of the company was pretty well dispersed throughout the crowd.

“You…” A deep, gravelly voice hit your ears and your heart about leaped out of your chest.

Before you knew it, a large hand swung at you, taking you off of your feet. You skidded through the dirt, grimacing.

“(Y/N)!” Kili yelped, rushing towards you, but quickly pulled back by another large Orc.

“The little Book Keeper.” He laughed an awful laugh, towering over you in all of his horrific glory. “You do not belong here, human.”

“I keep hearing that, yeah.” You seethed, getting to your feet despite the blossoming bruises you could feel beneath your armor. “You must be Bolg.”

“In the flesh.”

“You didn’t hear about what happened to Smaug when he said that to me?” You asked, fire burning in your chest, tingling in your fingertips. “I’m wearing what’s left of him.”

“Confident for an Other Realmer. Such a shame to see it all go to waste for a miserable company of dwarves.” He chuckled. “Come with me instead. I could use your insight.”

“And just why the fuck would I do that?”

A blade pressed against your neck from behind, dangerously close to piercing the skin. You felt a strong, tree-like arm wrap around you and your feet left the ground. “In exchange for your life, perhaps?”

“NO!” Kili cried, killing three Orcs on his way to where you were standing, his brother beside him and his uncle not far behind.

Bolg paused, looking to where Kili stood, amused at the emotion on the dwarves’ face. He laughed cruelly. “This is more than concern for their prophet. This one loves you.”

Kili ran at Bolg, slicing through the armor on his thigh and piercing the skin. Bolg grabbed him by the neck and raised him up into the air to get a better look at him.

“And the prince, no less.” He plucked up Fili with his other hand, dangling both of them in the air in front of you, tiny and helpless, struggling against Bolg’s monstrous grip as he began slowly choking the life out of them. “The end of the line of Durin in my very hands.” He grinned, displaying his sharp teeth. “Tell me, girl, who will die first, the heir or the spare?”

“Neither.” You hissed, a hot tear winding down your face and that familiar, blistering power blooming inside you once more.

Thorin slayed the Orc holding you, and as soon as your feet touched the ground again, you thrust both of your hands forward at Bolg. The emotions poured out of your chest at the sight of Kili and Fili dying, their faces filled with pain, groans strained as he squeezed their vocal cords. The image of their funeral flashed in your mind one last time and something clicked inside you, unleashing hellfire upon Bolg and the rest of his wretched army.

For a moment, nothing happened, but then, a crater eroded in his chest, a blinding, golden light tearing him apart from the inside out. And in the same moment, the rest of the Orc army erupted into flame, the same fire you’d stolen from the dragon whose hide you were wearing as a chest plate.

“YOU WRETCHED LITTLE WITCHHHHH!” He hissed, dropping the brothers as he disintegrated before your very eyes, reduced to ash, his voice echoing into nothing, the only remnant that he had ever existed.

The battlefield went silent, the three remaining armies looking around after their opponents had literally disappeared while they watched. After the silence came their victorious cries. The battle was over, hardly any casualties had taken place aside from the attacking orcs.

You rushed to Kili, frantically checking him and his brother for injuries. “Kili! Oh my god. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Amrâlimê.” He assured you, his breathing heavy now that he was free. His voice was a little hoarse, but that seemed to be his only injury.

“Fili?”

The older prince smiled. “I’m okay, too.”

You exhaled a huge sigh of relief and looked back at Thorin, who nodded at you, uninjured. It felt like a million pounds lifted from your shoulders. They were alive. The battle was over and they were alive.

Another sigh pulled itself from your lungs and something shifted within you. You were dizzy, utterly exhausted. You swayed on your feet a bit, eyelashes fluttering.

“My love?” Kili whispered, concerned, his hand touching your arm.

“I’m okay,” you insisted before falling into his waiting arms, your legs giving out beneath you.

The dwarf prince lowered you to the ground gently, finding a soft patch of grass before he searched you for injuries. He didn’t see any blood, nowhere had your armor been pierced, and aside from a small cut on your cheek, you appeared to be fine. He pulled you into his lap, his arms cradling you.

Your breathing slowed, but your heart continued to race and tears were quick to begin trailing down your cheeks.

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?” Bilbo rushed over to you, appearing from thin air. The rest of the company slowly assembled around you. “Did she…do that?”

“I don’t know.” You told him. “I feel…I don’t think I’m injured, I just feel…floaty.”

“Get the girl some water.” Oin insisted.

“I can’t find a wound on her.” Kili told the medic, his voice getting thick with tears and desperation. “Please, tell me what’s wrong with her.”

“You will find no injury, Kili.” Gandalf walked through the crowd of humans and elves and dwarves. “She is quite alright. This is…” He shook his head. “Well, this is the end of the spell I used to bring her here. The magic has all been spent.”

“Oh.” You murmured. It made sense when he said it. You could feel it, the fact that you were slipping.

“Well do something! There must be some spell to keep her here! Please!” Kili’s voice broke and his eyes left Gandalf’s meeting your own as he cradled you closer. “Please, I can’t lose her.”

“It’s okay, Kili.” You told him, your hand reaching up to brush his cheek, for once wiping his tears away. “I…I served my purpose. You’re alive. Fili and Thorin are alive. The line of Durin is safe. You’re safe. I…I wrote my own ending.”

You heard some sniffles among the group, namely from Balin and Bofur, but there were tears glimmering in the eyes of Dori and Ori and Bombur as well.

“You can’t leave us yet, lass.” Bofur said, taking off his hat and staring down at you. “Before the feast? Before the celebration?”

You laughed softly, looking up at the hobbit and each dwarf standing there. Your very best friends. Your family. Your heart already ached when you imagined just how much you’d miss them in your world without magic. “It’s bad timing, isn’t it? I…I’m not ready yet. I’m not ready to go…”

“Stay.” Kili whispered, pulling your face to his, his lips tasting of his salty tears as he kissed you. “Please, stay with me. Please.”

Part of you expected his kiss to be magical, to halt the sinking, floating feeling inside your chest. You expected True Love’s Kiss to save you at the end of your fairytale, but it couldn’t. It seemed nothing could.

“I’m sorry.” You sobbed, trying to sit up so you could embrace him better. “I’m so sorry, Kili.”

“It’s not your fault.” Kili shook his head, pulling you into a more upright position and pressing his forehead to yours.

You felt a tingling numbness in your fingers, and when you looked down at your hand, you found that they were disappearing, breaking into glowing silvery light and floating up into the cloudy sky. “No.”

You looked up at the company, at Thorin, the new king under the mountain, at Bilbo and Gandalf, and each of the others. “S-stay out of trouble, you guys. All of you. I love you so much and…I’m going to miss you for…well, for the rest of my life.”

“Book Keeper…” Thorin spoke, his voice going soft as he knelt down beside you and his nephew on the ground. “(Y/N)…If there ever is a day you come back, you will always have a place in our halls. I meant it when I said you would make a great princess and I mean it when I say it would have been an honor to have you as my niece.”

More tears slipped down your cheeks and you took the hand he offered you. “And it would have been an honor to have you as my uncle.”

Fili approached next, a weepy look on his face as he pulled you into a hug, the disappearance now working its way up to your elbow making it a bit more difficult. “Thank you. For saving my life.”

“You knew—”

“I figured it out.” He shrugged, lowering you back into his brother’s arms. “I’ll never forget everything you’ve done for me. For us. Take care of yourself. Find a new adventure.”

“You guys were the greatest adventure I’m ever going to get.” You looked up at the hobbit. “It’s going to be an amazing book, Bilbo. I should know, it’s the one I’ve been reading the whole time.”

Bilbo gasped, his eyes widening. “My book?”

“Why else would it be called The Hobbit where I’m from?” You chuckled. “Although, I bet your version will turn out bit different than the one I’m familiar with.”

“I would never leave out the best character.” Bilbo wiped a tear from his cheek. “Although, I think I might write a happier ending for her, if it’s all the same to you.”

“I can’t wait to read it.” You looked up at Kili, who hadn’t stopped crying since he’d first started. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” He shook his head. “I…I was supposed to be the one that didn’t make it. You…”

“I’m going to be okay.” You promised him, your nose resting against his.

“That makes one of us.” He murmured. “You are my One, my other half. I can’t imagine going on without you here with me. I don’t want to.”

“Someday, I promise you, we’ll see each other again. This isn’t the end for us.” You whispered, kissing him fiercely and he reciprocated immediately, his lips passionate against yours. You linked the pinkie that hadn’t disappeared yet with his own.

“Y-you said once…if something was meant for you to have, it would find you again.” He tightened his finger around yours until it started to disappear, too. “I swear to you, I will find you again.”

You nodded, whispering the words you’d been reciting in your mind for so long, just in case this was the outcome of your adventure after all. “I love you, Amrâlimê.”

You continued to vanish as the company watched. The last thing you felt of Middle Earth was a pair of lips against your own and the warmth of your lover’s arms around you.

And then everything went white.

***

When you opened your eyes, you were standing on your front porch in your pajama pants again. The sun shone bright in your eyes, birds chirping up in the trees, and the slightest breeze blowing through your hair.

You blinked a few times, looking around you to ground yourself. You were back home, except…it didn’t really feel like home anymore. You weren’t sure it ever would again.

Blinking away tears, you turned around and walked inside, half-expecting to wind up right back in Bilbo’s hobbit hole, but no, it was just your living room waiting on the other side of the threshold. You walked out the front door again, desperate, but had no luck. The only thing beyond that was your front porch again.

“No…” You mumbled, leaning against the wall before sliding down it, hiding behind your knees. “No, no, no…please…please! Take me back! Gandalf, please…”

You expected something magical to happen, for someone to appear from thin air and comfort you, but for the first time in about six months, you were left completely alone. It was the same day you’d left, only minutes after you’d first gone, and yet every moment you’d spent away was real and tangible. You remembered everything. Every hour of every day, the vast majority of them spent at Kili’s side.

The tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and you feared they never would, not so long as you were locked out of Middle Earth.

As you sat there, questioning everything your life had become, you couldn’t help but question if it had really even happened at all. Maybe it had just been an intense hallucination. After all, nothing around you had changed. But then, you caught a glimpse of something glimmering in your hair.

Kili’s courting bead, the very one he had spent so long making for you, was still carefully braided into your hair.

And your heart broke all over again. It was real and so was he. And so was the little wooden bird tucked in your pocket, Bifur’s parting gift. You sat there with both of them for a long time, staring at them, feeling them in your hands and forcing yourself to believe that you could go back. That one of these times you closed your eyes, you would be in Erebor again.

It took about an hour for you to get back on your feet and walk inside, only to collapse onto the couch, something inside of you deeply broken in a way you weren’t sure could ever be fixed.

The days passed slowly at first, each one a new burden, heavy and unstable. The hours seemed to crawl by. You had constant headaches from crying so much and you had trouble sleeping. When you did manage to get some rest, you had dreams of the company, of hiking with the dwarves, chatting with Bilbo, kissing Kili one last time. And then you’d wake up and relive the heartbreak all over again.

After a few weeks, it seemed to get a little easier. None of your friends knew why you were so heartbroken and you didn’t know how to begin to explain it to them, so you didn’t, and they never asked.

You got back to writing and, Gandalf had been right, your adventure had sparked something. You knew exactly what the story needed: a dwarf prince.

You’d finished the book in record time, poured all your energy into it. You’d hired an editor to clean it up for you, got the interior formatted, and commissioned a cover from an artist online. And then, a few weeks after that, it was in your hands and available online. It helped fill the hole in your heart the tiniest bit.

After about a month, you went with your friends to a comic con. You knew there’d be Lord of the Rings stuff there, and you knew you wouldn’t really be able to avoid it. You didn’t expect, however, for one of the first tables in the Artist Alley to have portraits of Kili, Fili, and Thorin right at the front of their display.

“You’re really in a Lord of the Rings mood lately, huh?” Your friend Conner asked when he caught your eyes lingering on them.

You shrugged, unable to explain to them exactly what had sparked it. “The Hobbit, but yeah, I have. Couldn’t tell you why…”

Obviously, you bought all three prints, and obviously you bought a poster of Erebor a few stalls later and obviously you cried in the car on the way home and put them up on your bedroom walls as soon as you arrived. Maybe it would hurt a little to see Kili’s face every day, but you’d been sad every day since then anyway, at least now you’d be able to see him.

Some sense of normalcy had returned to your life, sure. You were able to make it through a few days at a time without bursting into tears, but you knew, no matter how much time passed, not a single one would without you thinking of him in some way, shape, or form.

He, like the rest of the party, had left a handprint on your heart, a tattoo in your mind that would never fade, whether or not you wanted it to.

***Six Months Later***

It was now, finally, your twenty-fourth birthday. Snow was falling outside and your friends were beginning to arrive for a birthday party. It helped to have people there. You didn’t want to just be celebrating alone with only your thoughts for company. So, instead, you purchased plenty of pizza, plenty of adult beverages and fun alternatives for your non-drinking friends, which of course included black cherry cream soda. You had a banging birthday playlist going, some fun movies playing in the other room, and lots of snacks in the kitchen.

You were wearing a short-ish silver dress and had done your makeup for once. The bead Kili had given you so long ago was on a chain around your neck. It was hard trying to do the courtship braids without help, so you’d given up on them, instead choosing to wear it as a necklace. It didn’t mean anything to the people around you anyway. They didn’t know the power it held.

“Hey birthday girl!” One of your college friends, Chelsea, said, coming in through the door with a veggie tray and a gift bag. “Brought you some accessories.”

“Oh did you, now?”

Inside the bag, there was a sash and a crown that both said Birthday Princess on them. You chuckled, slipping the sash over your head and perching the crown in your hair. Ironic, you thought. Well, at least now you looked the part.

“Is this mead? Why do you have mead?” asked Ethan, who was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, laughing and reading the label on the bottle. “Where did you even get this?”

“One of the party stores had it.” You shrugged. “It’s like wine but sweeter.”

“Huh.” He poured himself a glass and you sipped the same drink from the solo cup in your hand. It was blueberry flavored and very good. Perhaps not as good as the kind the elves in Rivendell had served, but good nonetheless.

More friends kept arriving. You all chatted in the living room, beneath strobing LED lights, vibing to the music on your party playlist.

“What’s on your necklace?” Your friend Cianna asked, taking note of the bead around your neck.

“Oh, a friend gave it to me a while back. It’s an emerald.”

“It’s pretty.”

You nodded and touched it gently. “Thanks.”

Eventually, once everyone you’d invited was accounted for and you’d all had your share of pizza, your friend Natalie prepared the birthday cake, poking a bunch of candles into its surface and lighting them after. And yet, just before they could sing and before you could even dare to make a wish, there was a knock on the door.

Phil walked to the door, a party had on his head, and pulled it open, staring for a long moment before saying. “Uhhhhh, (Y/N), did you hire a bunch of cosplayers?”

“No, why…?” You blew out the candles without a thought and stood up from the table, cautiously walking towards the door, followed by the rest of your group.

“Um, hello, we’re looking for (Y/N) (L/N)…is she here?”

Your heart raced. You’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Bilbo???” You peered out the door, and sure enough, a hobbit and crowd of dwarves stood there, all clamoring to see into the house. Ori was looking through the window and waved excitedly when you spotted him. Except…he was taller than you remembered. They all seemed to be, in fact.

“Bilbo Baggins?” Chelsea murmured in awe. “THE Bilbo Baggins???”

Phil stepped aside, still looking for the words to say, but none came. He’d been expecting another pizza guy or something, not…this.

“What are you guys…How did you…?” You were flabbergast. You had to be hallucinating. It simply was not possible. You blinked a few times and looked at your friends, who were all, seemingly, seeing what you were. “C-come on in.”

Bilbo walked in, taking off his scarf. There was snow caught in his hair and his cheeks were rosy from the cold. You wondered how long they’d been out there, or, rather, how far they’d traveled to get to your front door.

Pushing past the others, Kili was the next to enter the house, rushing straight up to you and collecting you in his arms, his lips capturing your own. You melted at his touch, falling back into all of the emotions you’d been refraining from feeling for the past several months. His kiss drew a hum from your throat, his arm wrapping tight around your waist.

When he finally pulled away, his hand wandered up to your face, brushing the stray hairs out of your eyes. He took you in for all that you were in this realm and though you looked a bit different from the way you’d appeared in Middle Earth, it was indeed the same Book Keeper behind those eyes. He’d know his One anywhere, even in a realm beyond his own.

“Happy birthday, Amrâlimê. You look beautiful.” His finger touched the tip of your ear, which was no longer pointed, and was instead, the smaller, rounded human ear you’d grown up with. He laughed softly, amused. “Your ears are so small.”

“Kili, I…” You giggled in disbelief, looking up at him for the first time ever. “How are you here?”

“Gandalf dropped us off down the street.” Fili explained, kicking off his snow-covered boots and setting his swords on the floor. “Said he’ll be back with his present later.”

“He also said the rules of your realm may affect us the way our realm affected you.” Thorin explained, much taller than you’d seen him last. “Which seems to be the case, Book Keeper.”

“I…see that.” Thorin was even taller than Kili was, as opposed to his previous height of just past your shoulder. He looked even more regal this way, you decided.

“I’m sorry, what is going on?” Cianna asked, looking from one dwarf to the next.

“Did the lass not tell you about her big adventure?” Bofur teased, carrying a small bag with him. “You forgot your camera in Middle Earth.”

“Right.” You chuckled, taking the bag he handed you. “Forgot about that.”

“And your photos. I’ve organized them for you.” Dori handed them to you in a stack.

The rest of the dwarves filed into the house as your friends looked on in wonder and confusion, waiting for some kind of explanation.

“So uh…to make a long story short, about six months ago, Gandalf came by and swept me off on an adventure. And I kind of, uh…stole Smaug’s fire and used it to wipe out the orcs in the Battle of Five Armies. And fell in love with Kili. And then when I got back, it was like no time had passed at all, Narnia style.”

“That’s the abridged version.” Bilbo said, grinning.

“You know…that kind of explains a lot.” Conner said, thinking back on all the merch you’d bought at comic con. This was, perhaps, why you had cried when you found action figures of Kili and Fili in one of the bins full of toys at said comic con.

“You still have it.” Kili whispered, a finger carefully touching the bead hanging around your neck. “I-I thought…”

“I forgot how to do the braid.” You confessed. “I didn’t want it to fall out.”

He kissed you again, softer this time. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m here, then.”

Natalie pointed to the cake, the candles of which you’d just blown out. “Um, we have birthday cake. There’s ice cream, too.”

“Well why didn’t you say so?” Bofur laughed, walking towards the cake.

“What’s ice cream?” Ori asked, following him.

Balin walked up to you and took your hand as he passed. “Happy Birthday, lass. Good to see you.”

“Thank you, Balin.” You laughed. “You have no idea how good it is to see you guys.”

“Where’s the ale, lassie?” Dwalin draped a heavy arm around your shoulders. He was impossibly tall at human height.

“Have you ever had a margarita?” You asked, mischievous.

“Can’t say I have.”

“Come on.” You took Kili’s hand and led him, Dwalin, and Fili to the kitchen, where you and Cianna started serving up drinks.

Kili stopped at the counter, where he noticed the bottles of black cherry cream soda. He smiled softly and grabbed two, one for himself and one for you. When you abandoned the bar and walked back out to the living room with Kili, the dwarves were mingling with your friends, getting acquainted with one another.

You spotted your friend Taylor across the room teaching Bofur and Bifur how to play ping pong. Ori was in the other room watching whatever movie was on the TV. You were pretty sure it was Tangled. Gloin was scolding Nori for attempting to pocket something while Dori showed Phil and Conner the stack of photos from your Polaroid, telling stories of your adventure. Thorin was standing in the corner with Dwalin and Balin, sipping from a red solo cup, a sight you never saw you’d see. Meanwhile, Chelsea was chatting with Bilbo, asking him everything under the sun about the Shire.

Fili sat on the armchair next to the couch, his feet resting on the ottoman in front of it. “Nice place, Book Keeper.”

“You think so?”

“It’s cozy.” Kili agreed, removing your birthday princess crown for a moment before detangling your hair with the comb he always seemed to have tucked in his pocket. He set to work, putting the courting braid back in your hair, where it was meant to be.

You undid the clasp holding your necklace together and slipped the bead from the chain, handing it to him carefully so he could fasten it to the end of the braid once again. Once it was done, he carefully set the plastic crown back on top of your head.

He leaned in and kissed your cheek and then your lips, lingering against them for a long moment.

“I missed you.” You told him, touching your nose to his. “I was starting to think…I might not ever see you again.”

“How long has it been for you?” Fili asked.

“About six months. It’s been…really hard.” You shook your head. “I was starting to think the whole thing had been in my head…”

Kili frowned. “It’s…only been a few weeks in Erebor. The victory celebrations have barely dwindled.”

It felt like he’d stolen the breath from your lungs. For you, half a year had passed and for them, it hadn’t even been a month? The time travel stuff would never make sense to you, not entirely.

“Wow, that’s…” You shook your head. “Wow.”

Kili took both of your hands, serious all of a sudden. “I cannot imagine what that must have been like for you. Every day without you felt like an eternity. But I intend to make up for every moment.”

“Good.” You kissed him again, interrupted by a tap on your shoulder. You turned to find Natalie leaning over the back of the couch, her eyes locked on Thorin across the room. “Oh hey, what’s up?”

“That’s Thorin, right? Over there in the fur.”

“Thorin Oakenshield, in the flesh. He’s king under the mountain now. And he did not die in the Battle of Five Armies, so he’s got that going for him.” You assured her, twisting the cap off of your cream soda. You couldn’t help but smirk a little. You knew the look on her face and…you couldn’t say you blamed her.

“Uh-huh. Cool. And he’s…single, right?”

Fili choked on his drink and Kili let out a hearty laugh, thoroughly amused.

“Yeah, he is.”

Natalie downed the rest of her drink and adjusted her hair. “Alright good. I’m going in.”

You saluted her as she walked away. “Godspeed.”

“Uncle is that well-known here?” Fili asked, watching her go.

“Only to the nerds, but…we’re all nerds here.” You chuckled. “You three are…very popular among The Hobbit fans, especially the women.”

A smile snuck across Fili’s face. “I am too?”

“Yes, you are, Fili.”

There was a final knock at the door and you stood, walking to answer it. You were unsurprised to find Gandalf there, a proud look on his wise features.

“Quite the party here, Book Keeper.” He said, stepping inside, a book tucked under his arm. “I apologize for my tardiness. I had a meeting with a lion run a bit longer than expected.”

You stared at him for a long time before blurting, “Are you…talking about Aslan?”

That mischievous gleam appeared in his eyes once more. “Oh yes, Aslan and I are old friends. I needed his help putting the finishing touches on your gift.” He handed the book to you. “Happy birthday, dear.”

“Thank you.” The book in your hands was your own, the copy of the Hobbit you’d left in Middle Earth.

He winked. “Check the back cover.”

You took his advice and opened to the back of the book, where a necklace was tucked. It was silver and circular, several symbols along the edge of it and three emeralds embedded in its surface in a triangle. It buzzed with an unfamiliar power. “Woah…”

“This, dear Book Keeper, is a Charm of Return. I needed special permission to acquire it, but it will allow you to travel to either realm as you please. I’m sorry it took me so long to get it to you, but it took quite some time to convince the Council to grant my request.”

You hugged him tightly, your heart racing. “I don’t know how to thank you. This is…”

“It is I that owes you, dear, not the other way around. You have done immeasurable good for Middle Earth, and…come sixty years from now, I may need your expertise once more.” He looked around the room. “These friends of yours wouldn’t happen to be in need of an adventure, would they? I’m sure there are a handful of hobbits, an elf prince, a dwarf, and a few men that could use some guidance and I doubt you’d be able to be in all of those places at once…”

You laughed. “I think a lot of them would be very interested in that offer.”

“I will keep them in mind.” He tipped his hat. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it seems your friend is in need of some help at the ping pong table. Two against one is hardly fair, especially where Bifur is concerned.”

Gandalf walked away and Kili stood at your side again. When you felt his presence, you looked down out of habit, but he guided your chin up instead, laughing. It was, decidedly, odd being taller than you. He didn’t necessarily mind, but he was pretty sure he preferred your height difference the other way around.

“What did he give you?”

“My book. And an enchanted necklace.” You told him, your arms looping around his neck, resting on his shoulders. “Our relationship is no longer long-distance.”

He tugged you closed to him, a strong arm around your waist as he dipped you back, exploring your lips for a long moment before pulling you upright again. “Good, because I much prefer having you close to me, Amrâlimê.”

You reached up to touch his face, your thumb grazing his stubble. Honestly, you were still trying to convince yourself that he was there, that he was real and not merely a dream, as he had been for the past six months. But no matter how many times you blinked, he was still there, his leather and campfire and pine scent just as strong as you remembered it to be, his warmth vivid and real. “Me too.”

“You keep looking at me like you’re afraid I’ll disappear.” He whispered, his voice a bit sad, his eyes searching your own for some hint of what you were feeling.

You teared up a bit. “I kind of am.”

“Oh ghivashel…” He pulled you to his chest, one of his hands cradling your head, gently petting your hair in an attempt to reassure you that this was real, that he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He pressed a long kiss to the crown of your head. “I swore to you once that I’d find you again. Now that I’ve found you…I swear to you, I’m never going to lose you again.”

“Promise?” You asked, your voice wobbly.

He pulled away and offered you his pinkie, a tearful smile on that handsome face of his. You linked your pinkie with his, locking the promise.

Ethan peeked out of the other room. “Hey, (Y/N), can you hook up the Switch? I have to kick…” He looked behind him and asked. “Sorry, what’s your name?”

“I’m Ori.”

“I have to kick Ori’s butt at Just Dance.”

You laughed. “Oh absolutely.”

You helped connect your Switch to the TV, and as you did so, you couldn’t help but notice Thorin and Natalie stepping up to the ping pong table opposite Taylor and Bofur. Yeah, something about that felt right, too.

“Now, what is this Switch of yours?” Fili asked, looking on with curiosity as you switched the cords around before, finally, the menu popped onto the TV screen. The dwarves in the room made noises of awe.

“Remember how I told you about video games? This is that.”

You took a seat on the couch beside Kili and handed one of the controllers to Ethan, who showed Ori, Dori, and Nori how to play while the rest of the dwarves gathered around, interested to see how it worked.

You draped an arm around Kili’s shoulders and rested your legs atop his. Kili’s hand settled on your thigh and he stared at you, obsessed with the proximity after weeks of being apart. He thought you looked so beautiful in your glittering silver dress, your birthday princess crown and sash.

“What?” You asked, catching him staring at you.

He kissed your cheek, his arm wrapping around your waist. “It just…doesn’t feel real. Being here. I’ll admit, I never thought I’d get to come to your realm.”

“What do you think?”

“It’s very different than I’m accustomed to, but I think it definitely explains a lot about you. I like it, of course, but I’m not sure I could ever adjust to living here, not fully.”

“It’d be quite the learning curve.” You agreed. “That’s how I felt with Middle Earth, in the beginning. It felt…unreal. Every morning I expected to wake up back in my bed, like it had all been some fantastical dream, and…once I came back here, I kept expecting to wake up there instead.”

“You belong to both.” He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, still half-expecting it to come to a point.

You nodded. “I belong to both.” Your hand wandered to the enchanted necklace around your neck. “And now I can.”

After a few rounds of Just Dance, one of your friends put in MarioKart instead, attempting to explain the game to Fili, who showed an interest in the racing game. Seeing the opportunity to step away for a moment, Kili looked at you and asked, “Can you show me your room?”

“Yeah, of course.” You stood up and took his hand, leading him through the living room, down the hall, and into your room.

He looked around, curious. His eyes lingered on every poster adorning your walls for a moment before stopping on the prints you’d gotten at comic con. All in a row, you had portraits of himself, his brother, and his uncle, and above them, there was a poster of Erebor, bathed in mist.

“Where did you get these?” He asked, staring at them.

“At a convention I went to this year.” You shrugged. “Reminded me of home. I left all my pictures there, so things like this are the only way I can really see it.”

“Home…” He repeated the word, nodding. “It’s been hard sleeping without you at my side. Our bed feels empty without you.”

Your heart leapt when he said it. Our bed. You took a step closer to him, stepping into his warmth. His hand rose to your cheek, pulling you in for a long, slow kiss. He had to crane his neck down in order to reach your lips, which caused him to chuckle.

“What?” You asked, amused.

“Is this what it’s like when you try to kiss me?” He asked, looking down at you from his elevated human height. You figured he was probably about six feet tall like this. Thorin and Dwalin were even taller yet, wherever they were in your house with your friends.

“Yeah, pretty much.” You stood on your toes and kissed him again. “I can’t say I mind, though.”

“I suppose I never asked how you felt about it. About the distance between us.” He sat on the bed, pulling you towards him so you were standing between his legs in a way that more accurately mimicked your usual height difference. “You don’t care? Even the human men in my world are usually taller than their beloveds…”

“I couldn’t care less.” You poked his nose with the tip of your finger. “You’re a dwarf, Kili. Your height is part of who you are, and…I love every piece of you. I don’t care how tall you are compared to me, all I care about is you.”

You settled on his leg, pulling his arms around you and pressing another passionate kiss to his lips. He kissed you hungrily, like he had been the one waiting six months to do so opposed to the other way around. When you separated, he rested his forehead against yours and took a long breath.

“Would you like your birthday present now?”

“You got me a present?” You asked.

“Of course I did, ghivashel.” He nuzzled his nose against yours and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small wooden box, which had been painted forest green.

He handed it to you, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you opened it, only to find a claddagh ring, very similar to the one that had been turned into the bead braided into his hair. Instead of hands on either side of the emerald, however, there were tiny silver leaves, like the ones he’d worked into your courting bead. It truly was gorgeous. You could tell he’d made it himself, which only made you love it more.

With careful hands, he slid the ring onto your right ring finger so the heart was upright, signifying that you were in a relationship. He pressed a long kiss to your cheek. “I’ve been wanting to do that since you told me what your ring meant that night in the goblin cave.” He admitted, his voice soft and deep. “I’d just stare at your ring and think about how badly I wanted to flip it over, to call you mine. And someday…I want to be the one who gets to move it to your other hand.”

“I want that too.” You assured him, whispering against his lips.

“I didn’t know Gandalf was going to bring us here when I started working on it. I just…needed something to distract me from the hole in my heart.” He kissed your forehead and then your cheek and then your lips. “They’re calling you the Emerald Princess of Erebor back home.”

“Are they?” You asked, amused. “I’ll admit, it has a ring to it.”

“Among your other titles, of course. Book Keeper, Fire Stealer, Realm Traveler, Orc Burner…” He searched your face before adding, “You’re a hero, you know. To all of us. When it was looking like you might not be back…Uncle was in the process of commissioning a statue of you, especially once he found out it wasn’t just my life you’d saved.”

“So he knows, then.”

“We all do.” Bilbo was standing in the doorway of your room. He took a look around. “It’s nice in here. Sorry to interrupt, ah, the others are beginning to tell stories to your friends and we thought you might like to be present for that. Also, there’s only one slice of cake left and Bofur said you two haven’t had any yet.”

“Thank you, Bilbo.” You smiled and stood up.

“Is that the Shire?” Bilbo pointed to a poster hanging on your wall. His eyes narrowed at it, examining it further. “Is that my house?”

“Yeah, it is.”

He pointed to a print of Frodo and Sam and Merry and Pippin. “Who are they?”

“Well, that one is your nephew. Technically, I guess, he’s your cousin, but you two call each other nephew and uncle. He’s…he’s going to do great things someday.”

“Huh.” Bilbo nodded, leading you and Kili back down the hall to where the others were all congregating in the living room.

Some had gotten refills of some their drinks, and some of the dwarves were trying the human snacks they’d found in your kitchen. Dori was trying to convince Ori to try a margarita, but he insisted that he didn’t like green food and that also applied to green beverages.

Bofur handed you a paper plate, upon which was the last slice of birthday cake, and two plastic forks. He winked. “Thought you might share with your beloved.”

“Thank you, Bofur.” You and Kili settled into the spot that was left for you in the makeshift circle that had formed in the living room.

Gandalf was perched on a chair in the corner of the room, on the edge of the group, as he often was. Fili had a bit of frosting caught in his beard as he ate the second to last slice of cake.

“Is it good?” You asked, laughing softly.

“It’s fantastic, Book Keeper.”

“I’m glad.” You handed Kili the other plastic fork.

Kili broke off a piece of cake and held his fork in front of your mouth. You ate from it playfully. It was nice, getting to be domestic with him, given that so much of your time together thus far had been on the road, weaving in and out of danger.

“So…” Chelsea pressed, your human friends all waiting anxiously to hear about your time in Middle Earth. “What was it…like?”

“Anything specific or just in general?” You asked for clarification.

“In general, I guess.”

“It was…everything I could have imagined.” You shrugged. “Like, the movies don’t even begin to do it justice, Middle Earth. We started in the Shire, at Bilbo’s, travelled to Rivendell, through Mirkwood, through Laketown, to Erebor. It took a long time, not just the nine hours that are on screen. Like, the book is just the cliffnotes, you know? Being there, doing it…It was spectacular. Scary sometimes, sure, but I think it was worth it.”

“What’s your scar from?” Taylor pointed to the long, jagged mark running up your arm. “Was it actually from dog-sitting or…?”

“A goblin got me, but that’s not even the big one.” You chuckled and stood, pulling up the skirt of your dress the tiniest bit, showing off the large mark left from the dragon’s talons. “Smaug did that.”

“Holy shit…” One of your friends murmured.

“The little scar on my cheek is, surprisingly, the only one I got during the Battle of Five Armies, but that one healed up so well, it’s hard to even see it.” You sat back down next to Kili.

“Meet anyone cool?” Ethan asked.

“Most of them are in attendance.” You replied, and the dwarves chuckled. “I did meet Legolas briefly. And Elrond. And we stayed with Bard for a bit; his kids were really nice. Also Thranduil is like…kinda mean.”

“He is an acquired taste, that is for certain.” Gandalf piped up from the corner. “Not entirely unreasonable, though.”

“What was your favorite part of the trip, lass?” Bofur asked, that mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“If that isn’t a loaded question…” You chuckled, shaking your head. “I honestly…I feel like there are too many to count. There were a lot of moments that really stuck out to me and I loved them all in different ways for different reasons; staying at Beorn’s, riding in the barrels down the river, the party at Laketown…” You took Kili’s hand and he gave yours a squeeze. “Obviously, I’m not single anymore, so I loved every moment that led up to that, as well, and…all of the moments since then, too.”

The group sat there for a while, reminiscing, telling stories. Balin recounted the moment you stole Smaug’s fire. Bofur told them all how wasted you’d been at the aforementioned party in Laketown. Fili recalled when he’d spotted you outside their cells in Mirkwood, disguised as an elf guard and Dwalin bragged that you’d stood up Legolas at the Festival of Starlight that night, managing to trick every elf you passed, including their prince.

“I have a story.” Kili spoke after a while, and everyone piped down, eager to see what he had to say. “So, that first night in the Shire, shortly after Thorin arrived, Gandalf informed us that there would be a mysterious fifteenth member of the company. He said fifteen was a lucky number and that, in addition to our Burglar, we were in need of a Book Keeper to…keep the record straight, or something of the sort. And I thought to myself, we have Ori for that, he’s a scribe, what more could we possibly need to keep the record of the adventure? We waited for a bit. Waited a little longer. And then I hear this little voice in the distance, down the hall and around the corner. Didn’t think much of it.”

You listened carefully. In all your time together, he’d never told you what was going through his head the moment you’d met.

“So Gandalf sends me to get her. Up until then, we didn’t even know she was a woman, which was a bit of an upset among the company. I wasn’t anywhere near the door, so I wasn’t quite sure why he’d sent me of all dwarves, but I stood and walked out of the room and down the hall and when I turned the corner and I…I saw her standing there, looking very lost and something happened, then. It was like she was glowing, this stunning, beautiful woman, and the first word out of her mouth is my name.” He chuckled and shook his head, squeezing your hand. “I’m sure I stood there, gaping at you like an idiot for a good, long time before finally asking if I’d met you before because surely, I would have remembered if we had. As it turned out, she’d come from an entirely different realm to help us.”

You caught a proud look on Thorin’s face, amusement in those blue eyes of his.

“I remember that tense moment after she was finally introduced to the company. I didn’t know whether or not Uncle would let her come along on the journey and, if he didn’t and she went back home after journeying so far to get to us…Even then, I knew she’d be taking half of my heart with her if she left.”

“Awwww…” Natalie pouted.

“But he let her come. And…I know for a fact that I wouldn’t be sitting here with all of you if she hadn’t.”

“And the rest is history.” Fili said, grinning.

“I’ve got a question.” Gloin said, holding up a copy of your book that had been lying on the coffee table. “What’s this, lassie? The Prince and the Prophet?”

“That’s my novel. I finished it when I got back, published it a few months back.”

“You just casually published a novel?” Bilbo asked, thoroughly impressed. “Is it that easy in this realm?”

“It takes time, sure, but actually getting it out there is kind of easy in this realm, depending on how you go about it.” You shrugged.

“Let me see.” Kili held out his hand and Gloin tossed it to him. He looked at the cover and he couldn’t help but notice the resemblance he and the love interest shared, right down to the height difference with the main character. “Second in line for the throne, first in line for her heart.” He read the tagline and his cheeks reddened.

“Well that sounds familiar, doesn’t it?” Fili joked, taking the book from his brother’s hands and holding it up so the others could see it side by side. “Kind of looks familiar too. Huh.”

“I knew it!” Phil pointed, triumphant. “I fucking knew it!”

“Ohhhhhh. Kili. Killian. I get it.” Cianna agreed, and everyone in attendance laughed.

Kili laughed in disbelief, his face right in front of yours. “You named him Killian?”

“As they say, write what you know.” You laughed, shielding your face by taking a sip from your drink. “I needed something to bury myself in. Try to fill in the hole in my heart a little bit, you know?”

Kili pressed a long kiss to your cheek. “All too well, Amrâlimê.” He raised an eyebrow, mischievous. “Do you think I could have a copy? Being your muse and all, I think it’s only fair.”

“Of course you can.” You laughed.

“Are there any mentions of the heir to the throne, Book Keeper? Prince Fillian, perhaps?” Fili asked and your friends all cracked up.

“No, of course not, that would be ridiculous.” You scoffed. “His name is Finnian and he has an intense passion for musical theater.”

The company erupted into laughter. You took a long moment to look around the room. It was like that last night before the battle in a way. You knew the magic of this night was limited. Once it was over, you’d never have this feeling again, this swirl of nostalgia and camaraderie and home, the mix of both of your homes together. Sure, now you had the ability to go back and forth, but you weren’t sure you’d ever get to have them all together in one room again. Only time would tell.

Hours later, the party finally ended. You had lots of help cleaning up, and your friends slowly started leaving to go back to their homes, unsure if when they woke this crazy night would be more than a dream. Some of the dwarves left as well, escorted by Gandalf out the front door and back to Middle Earth.

Once you finally had the place in a relatively normal state and you, Gandalf, Bilbo, and the Durins were the only ones left, you felt Kili’s presence behind you, warm and close. You turned into his arms, resting your head against his chest. He pressed a long kiss to your forehead and then murmured against your hairline the words you had been waiting to hear all night, “Come, Amrâlimê. Let’s go home.”

***

The celebrations in Erebor when you returned were unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. Dwarves, Elves, Men, and a wizard and a hobbit and a Book Keeper all celebrating together, one last time before they’d all go back to their own settlements and move on with their lives.

The men, Bard had told you, were considering moving to Dale from Laketown, in order to be closer to Erebor for trading with the Dwarves. Many of the dwarves that had come to fight alongside the company were staying, too, to help restore Erebor to its former glory. A lot of work had to be done to get it to that point, Thorin had told you. Especially since a dragon had torn his way through the place to escape the woman who’d stolen his fire.

Speaking of Thorin, he’d granted you a title and a gilded emerald circlet to go along with it, declaring you as an honorary Princess of Erebor, although given your relationship to his nephew, you would have married into that title soon enough anyway. And these days, you weren’t the only princess in Erebor. Dís, Kili and Fili’s mother, had made the journey in your absence, joining the rest of her family in their ancestral home. She had been incredibly kind to you and had welcomed you to the family immediately. Her brother and sons trusted you like their own, so she did, too, especially once she heard everything you’d done for them.

Slowly but surely, the Lonely Mountain was becoming less and less lonely, abuzz with people, the smithing industry up and running again, and every torch lit with warm light.

After another week, Bilbo decided it was finally time to go home. He and Gandalf prepared for the return journey. Bilbo wanted to slip out unnoticed, but the company caught word of it and gathered one last time to see him off at the gate.

“If any of you are ever passing Bag End…Tea is at four. There’s plenty of it…You are welcome anytime.” Bilbo said, his eyes sincere, and his voice wavering.

The dwarves all bowed to him one final time, each of their eyes glassy with tears.

“You’ll have to come back to visit someday.” You said, a tear trickling down your cheek, the pink light of sunrise flushing the scene with warmth and beauty. “For the wedding.”

Bilbo’s eyes softened and he took a step forward. You knelt down to the ground so he could give you one last hug before leaving for the Shire after all this time. He whispered in your ear, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Book Keeper.”

He started to walk away, stopped only by Thorin, who followed him up the path for a more private goodbye. Kili wiped a tear from his cheek and turned you towards him, gazing up at you as he had so many times before. “This is it, isn’t it? This is the end of the story?”

“It’s the end of the book, sure, but…” you shook your head, “it’s not the end of the story. It…well, to me, it feels like the beginning of a new one, except this time…I have no idea what’s coming next.”

Kili pulled you down to his level, pressing a long kiss to your lips. “We’ll find that out together, Amrâlimê, one page at a time…”

#kili #kili x reader #kili durin #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #tolkien #kili durin x reader #the book keeper

[massivedrickhead]

Hey, I don’t usually send prompts, since I’m just really happy for any authors still writing Bechloe. Especially my favourite ones. And you happen to be one of my favourites. But since you posted a prompt list, I thought I’d show how much I genuinely love your stories and would be happy to read anything you’ll create out of prompt No 23.

Thank you 💚💚💚

Thank you so much for sending this! I'm sorry it took me so long to get to.

This is a perfect example of what happens when I start writing something with absolutely no plan and no idea what's going to happen next 😅

23. “Did I do something to upset you?”

Prompt taken from here.

Read on AO3

-

“Did I do something to upset you?” Beca asked, her thumb scratching at the label on her beer bottle, her eyes looking anywhere other than Chloe.

“No,” Chloe said, frowning and forcing herself to look up from her phone. “What makes you ask that?”

Beca shrugged and took a drink. “You’ve been… off with me,” Beca said, searching for the word. “Quiet.”

They were in their tiny kitchen, in their tiny apartment. Beca was leaning against the counter, and Chloe sat at the island. She had been engrossed in her phone since returning from work, and all of Beca’s efforts for conversation had fallen flat. 

“It isn’t you,” Chloe said, standing and getting her own beer from the fridge. “It’s nothing.”

Beca sighed and rubbed the heel of her hand into her eye. She was tired, a headache had been slowly building for the past few hours, and the beer wasn’t exactly helping.

“Are you having second thoughts?” Beca asked. She looked calm and relaxed on the outside, but the crack in her voice betrayed just how scared she was to ask that question. 

“Second thoughts about what?” Chloe asked, popping the cap off her beer and returning to her chair. Her phone buzzed on the island, and Chloe fought the urge to pick it up.

“About us. About me,” Beca said, and she chanced a look at Chloe, hoping to gauge her reaction.

“Are you serious?” Chloe asked. “Baby, no. No, of course I’m not.” 

Beca’s shoulders slumped with relief, and Chloe hurriedly got out of her chair so she could put her arms around her. 

“Why would you ask that?” She asked, feeling Beca take a steadying breath against her. “Why would you think it?”

“What else was I supposed to think?” Beca asked. “Everything was great and then it wasn’t, and the only thing that’s changed is that we became, like, official.”

Chloe ended their hug and cupped Beca’s face in her hands.

“I’m crazy about you,” Chloe said. “I always have been, and us becoming a couple hasn’t changed that. It isn’t you that’s upset me, I promise.” She kissed Beca on the forehead and then softly on the lips.

Beca felt herself melting slightly, the way she always did when Chloe kissed her, but she pulled back after a few seconds because she still needed answers.

“Then what is it?” Beca asked. “If it wasn’t me then someone else must have upset you, and if that’s the case I need to know who to fight.”

Chloe laughed and took hold of Beca’s hand, tugging it gently until she followed her into the living room. 

“It’s… You know things with my Mom have always been a bit rocky, right?” Chloe said as they took a seat on their battered sofa. 

“Yeah,” Beca said. “What did she do?”

“I told her about us,” Chloe said. “And I thought… You know, it was one of the few things she never had a problem with. Who I dated didn’t really matter to her, as long as I was still getting good grades, still thin, still pretty, you know, whatever. At least… I thought it didn’t matter to her. Apparently it does now. Apparently now that I’m almost thirty and still,” Chloe made air-quotes with her fingers, “‘messing around with girls instead of finding a husband and starting a family’ she has a problem with it. She thought me being bi was just some attention-seeking teenage thing that I’d grow out of. She can’t actually stand the idea that I’ve fallen in love with a woman who I plan to settle down with and-” Chloe cut herself off as she realised what she’d just said, her hand flying up to her mouth. 

A silence stretched out between them and Beca reached out to take one of Chloe’s hands.

“Fallen in love with, huh?” Beca asked. Her voice was soft, there were tears in her eyes, and she had the hint of a smile on her lips.

“Please don’t freak out,” Chloe said. “I know it’s soon, I don’t need to hear it back, it just slipped out-”

Beca cut her off before she could carry on rambling, and she pressed her lips against Chloe’s. 

“I love you too,” Beca said. “It might be soon to other people, but we’ve been dancing around this for ten years, Chloe. What’s the point in waiting when we both feel it?”

Chloe let out something between a laugh and a sob. “I’m sorry I made you doubt, even for a second, how I feel about you. I’m sorry you thought there was a chance I could ever have regrets or second thoughts about us. I love you. And I didn’t mean for it to slip out like that, I thought it would be way more romantic when I first said it, but I’m glad it’s out there now.”

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” Beca said. “And I’m sorry that your Mom sucks.”

Chloe laughed and wiped her eyes. “Me too. She’s been blowing up my phone for days, texting me pictures of single guys in her church, and I think… I think I might be done. She’s been chipping away at me for years, trying to take away all the bits she didn’t like, trying to fit me into this mould and I’m…” Chloe took a breath. “She doesn’t get any more of me.”

Beca let out a shaky breath and pulled Chloe into her arms. “I’m so happy to hear you say that,” she said. “Your Mom, she… She terrifies me. It terrifies me what she can do to you. What she’s already done.”

“I didn’t even realise she was doing it,” Chloe said. “For the longest time, I thought that was what love was. She wasn’t all bad. She still isn’t. It’s hard to separate the bad from the good when everything she did was with a smile. It’s not like she yelled, or hit me, she just… Her tone of voice was always sweet and kind and then you’d suddenly feel like you’d been stabbed with something sharp and not know where it came from.”

“Abuse with a smile is still abuse,” Beca said, holding her tighter, scared she might suddenly slip away. 

“I don’t know that I’d call it abuse,” Chloe replied. “But, yeah, I know. It just… It makes it hard to hate her.” She swallowed and when she spoke again, her voice was watery. “I should… I need to tell her to stop. To give her one last chance to accept me as I am, or else I’m done.”

Beca ended their hug. She cupped Chloe’s face in her hands, mirroring their position from earlier, and she swept away the tears on her cheeks with her thumbs. “I don’t think she deserves a final chance,” Beca said. “But if you want to offer her one, then I’ll support you. I’ll do whatever you need me to.”

Chloe placed her hand on Beca’s arm and closed her eyes, savouring the feeling of being held. Of being loved.

“I know you will,” Chloe said. “Thank you. Thank you for being patient and for showing me what real love feels like.”

“Thank you for showing me the same.”

With a shaky breath, Chloe pulled out her phone. “I guess it’s now or never, right?”

Beca took hold of her hand. “I’m right here with you. I love you.”

Chloe squeezed her hand and closed her eyes, forcing herself to take a calm breath. “I love you too,” she said. She called her Mom’s number and held the phone to her ear. It felt like each ring lasted a lifetime, but then she finally answered.

“Hi Mom. I’ve got something I need to tell you.”

#bechloe #pitch perfect fanfiction #fanfic #pitch perfect fanfic #fanfiction #beca mitchell #chloe beale #pitch perfect #beca #chloe #bechloe fic #bechloe fanfic #pitch perfect fic #bechloe prompt #prompt #no matter the timeline

[ihni]

(On AO3)

Billy was already waiting by the mailbox when the postman came. It was the third day in a row he was standing there, and today the mailman just raised his eyebrows as he handed Billy a small stack of envelopes. Billy didn’t do more than grunt in thanks before he started rifling through the letters. There were bills addressed to his dad, one letter that looked like an offer to start a magazine subscription for Susan – and nothing for Billy. As usual.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath and went inside to prepare for work. He was alone in the house – Neil and Susan had left for work already and since it was summer, Max was already out, hanging with her friends. Billy worked the late shift at the pool this week, which was why he had time to wait by the mailbox. And after that, by the phone.

At five to eleven, the phone rang, just like he knew it would.

“Hey,” Steve said, voice sounding tinny and far away. Which was fair, since he was all the way over in Europe. “Nothing yet?”

“Nope,” Billy confirmed and chewed on his lip. “Maybe … maybe it got lost on the way?” A groan came down the line. If Billy closed his eyes he could imagine the way Steve would be pulling at his hair right about now. “Maybe it’s just late. Who knows how long it takes to deliver mail from Italy to Indiana, anyway?”

“I’ve been here for four weeks,” Steve said. “And I sent it the first week. Grandma says that it usually takes a week, two tops. It should have gotten there by now.”

Billy bit his lip and winced. It should.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, voice more subdued. “I never should have sent it. I wasn’t thinking.”

Billy sighed. They’d had this discussion before, the first of which was when Steve let him know that he’d sent a raunchy letter with accompanying polaroid pictures in the mail. Billy had almost had a heart attack when he heard. He had been quick to exchange all his shifts at the pool to the late ones, even though there was more to do then than in the mornings. He did it just so he could ensure he was the one who picked up the mail, so he would be able to take the letter before anyone else saw it. Because he knew that if his dad found a letter that had been sent from overseas and which was addressed to Billy, he wouldn’t hesitate to open it first to check what it was. And if he found pictures of Billy’s boyfriend’s dick … well. Billy would be dead.

“I know,” he said. He knew that Steve was sorry, and worried. He’d taken to calling every day around this time on weekdays, when he knew that Billy would be home alone – and that his dad wouldn’t be there. “Maybe it’ll show up tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Steve murmured. “We’re leaving for home on Monday. At this pace, I’ll be home before the letter!”

“That’s better anyway,” Billy decided. “I prefer the real thing to a picture any day.”

Despite his attempt at flirting, he was still worried. For every day that passed without the letter showing up, Billy got more and more tense. He wouldn’t be able to be the first one to the mailbox every day, and if his dad got his hands on it …

He shook the unease off and said his goodbye to his boyfriend, who promised to call again the next day. After that he went through the pile of mail one more time – just in case he’d missed the airmail letter, somehow – before putting it in a neat pile on the kitchen table, and gathering his things before leaving for work.

It was a warm and sunny day, which meant there were a lot of people at the pool. A lot of loud and obnoxious people, ranging from the kids who ran rampant along the pool’s edge to their parents, who seemed to be there only to ogle the lifeguards. Billy had a headache by the time he finally got to lock up and go home, which didn’t even lessen when he turned the volume of his car stereo down low while driving.

When he got back to the house, he parked on the driveway and sighed as he got out of the Camaro, mentally preparing himself for a mediocre dinner in the Hargrove household. His head shot up when he heard someone call his name.

“Billy?”

It was Mr. Peterson, their elderly neighbor. He was waving to Billy from behind his fence, a friendly smile on his wrinkly face.

Billy internally groaned. Mr. Peterson was approximately a hundred years old (slight exaggeration, but he was old-old) and could talk forever if one didn’t manage to weasel out of it fast. Neil would be pissed if Billy was late for dinner – but then again, he would be pissed if Billy wasn’t polite to their neighbors, too. So, plastering a smile onto his face, Billy walked up to the fence.

“Hi, Mr. Peterson. How are you today?”

“Oh good, Billy, good. The joints are creaking as usual, but besides that I’m just fine, thank you,” Mr. Peterson said, and Billy prepared himself for what was bound to be a fifteen-minute monologue about the man’s bad hip. Which is why it was so surprising that he cut straight to the chase. “I was wondering if you could help me with something?” Billy looked back towards his house, hesitating. Mr. Peterson seemed to sense it, because he was quick to assure, “It’ll only be a couple of minutes.”

Neil always preached how important it was to have good relationships with one’s neighbors, so he wouldn’t be able to fault Billy for helping an old man out. “Yeah, of course,” Billy therefore said and walked around the fence and into the man’s yard. “What can I do for you?”

“Follow me, please.”

Mr. Peterson led Billy to the house, and in through the front door. Billy had never been inside the old man’s house before, and stopped on the welcome mat in the hall and looked around. It seemed to be a typical old-person home. Smelled musty, and a little bit like smoke, with yellowed wallpaper and a lot of framed photographs on the walls.

Mr. Peterson went to a wooden dresser that was pushed up against one of the walls, and opened the top drawer to pull out –

Shit.

– an airmail letter. An opened airmail letter.

“I got this in the mail a couple of days ago,” Mr. Peterson said, holding the envelope up so Billy could see it better. It had Steve’s chickenscratch handwriting on it, and was addressed to ‘Billy Hargrove’.

Shit shit shit.

Not noticing – or maybe not caring about – Billy’s rising panic, Mr. Peterson continued, “The mailman must have gotten our mail mixed up, or read the number wrong. I’m sorry to say that I didn’t read the address properly before opening it – my eyesight isn’t what it used to be, you see, and I have friends in Europe so I thought it was from one of them.” Billy only barely heard him through the sound of rushing in his ears. “And, well. I didn’t notice until I’ve already opened it that it … that it was probably not meant for me.”

He looked up and looked into Billy’s eyes for the first time since he’d picked up the letter, raising one white bushy eyebrow. Billy was frozen in fear. He knew what was in that letter – Steve had told him – and it was incriminating, to say the least. If Mr. Peterson had told anyone, or shown anyone – god, if he told Billy’s dad, he’d –

“Breathe, son,” Mr. Peterson said, not unkindly, and put a wrinkly hand on Billy’s shoulder, pretending like he didn’t notice when Billy flinched. Which was silly. Billy could take him; Mr. Peterson was a head shorter than Billy, and ancient.

But he also knew.

“I, I … I don’t know what …” Billy didn’t know how to continue that sentence, so it was lucky that Mr. Peterson took that opportunity to start talking again.

“Did you know that I fought in the First World War?” The non sequitur had Billy’s mind reeling. He did know that – Neil had told the family as soon as he found out, proud to be living in a neighborhood of war veterans – but he couldn’t form words at the moment. Mr. Peterson reached out to one of the picture frames on the wall and pointed at it. It was a grainy black and white picture of five men, posing in front of a restaurant. “This was taken fifteen years after the war ended. We – the ones out of my friends who survived – got together again, to … catch up, and all that.”

Billy still didn’t know what this had to do with anything. He eyed the letter in the old man’s hand, and wondered if he would be able to snatch it and make a run for it. But no. No, then Neil would definitely find out.

“This is Joe,” Mr. Peterson said and tapped his finger against the glass, showing a grinning man wearing a hat. “Joseph. He was my friend.” At this, he gave Billy a significant look. “My special friend.”

Billy stopped breathing, and blinked while the word filtered into his brain. Mr. Peterson couldn’t be insinuating what Billy thought he was insinuating, right?

The old man took Billy’s hand in his and, smiling, pressed the airmail letter with Steve’s handwriting on it into Billy’s palm. Billy’s fingers closed on it out of instinct. It was thicker than an ordinary letter, and he could feel the polaroids through the thin paper of the envelope.

Mr. Peterson didn’t let go of his hand, though. He patted their joined hands with his other hand and made sure to look Billy in the eye as he said, “Love is love, son. I know that better than most. And no matter where you find it, you should consider yourself lucky to have it.”

Billy’s vision was getting blurry, and he let out a shuddering breath. “Mr. Peterson …”

“Your secret is safe with me,” Mr. Peterson said. His voice was gentle, as if he was trying not to spook a skittish animal.

Billy could do nothing but nod. He couldn’t feel his face, but he was pretty sure that he was either stark white or tomato red. Mr. Peterson gently guided him to the door and patted him on the arm as he opened the door.

“Thank you for your help, young man,” he said. “Don’t be a stranger, now.”

Billy took a couple of steps out on the porch, but then stopped and turned around. He could hardly believe what had just happened. When he looked at the old man in the doorway, he looked at him with new eyes, and a new understanding. This man, their elderly neighbor – the war veteran that Neil actually respected – he was like Billy?

“I’m …” Billy started, but again couldn’t find words. “Thank you.”

Mr. Peterson just smiled, and nodded to the letter in Billy’s hand. “That boy? You’re lucky to have him. He seems like a keeper.” Billy nodded, still in shock. And that’s when Mr. Peterson leaned forward and added, in a lower voice and with a mischievous glint in his eye, “Big dick too. Joe’s was smaller, but boy did he know how to use it.”

@harringrove-flip-reverse-it

#harringrove flip reverse it #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove fic #ihni writes #mr. peterson next door

[mikhailwrites]

Waiting for Connection 14 / Ghost x Soap

Ghost is retired and plays milsim videogame. Soap is still in the force and sometimes plays that same videogame...

Previous chapter | AO3

Ghost thanks Gaz and bids him good night before he rejoins the main voice channel. As expected, a rather wild discussion is underway. Clearly, the jury is out about whether or not they should’ve split.

“It was a sound idea, threw me off,” Ghost voices his opinion and announces himself at the same time. There’s a brief moment of silence.

“But it didn’t work in the end,” Roach quips, sounding a little bitter. Not overly so, thankfully, it’s just a game, after all. They all know the difference, intimately so.

“You got way closer to the extraction than I thought you would. I assume you wanted to either flush us out or create a diversion?”

“Yes to both, actually,” Alejandro says, “Soap thought that you will expect us sticking together or at the very least split into two pairs, covering each other. We were hoping to gain some upper hand. But I guess we underestimated your friend. Is he joining?”

“No, he’s… a very private person. But he enjoyed the game so I can extend his thanks. Told me that whoever he managed to jump in the lower part of the base was pretty solid. He was lucky to win that one.”

“That was me,” Roach replies, “I had a clumsy aim, it was a deserved death.”

“I’m sure you’re gonna walk all over me next time. You know the layout of the base and the terrain now, and the help I’ve got was a one-time thing.”

“But that wouldn’t really be a fair fight,” Rudy remarks.

At that moment, Ghost realises something. “Where’s Johnny?”

“Had to go, said he wasn’t feeling too good,” Roach explains.

“Ah, I see. Alright, I think I’ll call it a night as well. It was a good game, I’m looking forward to a rematch.”

“Yeah, sure, we’re gonna kick your ass, cabron,” Alejandro laughs.

Simon turns off the PC, puts the headset on a stand and reaches for his phone. He debates with himself for a little before he opens a new text message and types, “Thanks for the game; you were good. Hope you will feel better in the morning. S.” He hits the Send button without thinking too long about it. Otherwise, he would probably change his mind.

Soap’s phone buzzes on the nightstand just as its owner returns from the shower. Soap’s eyebrow quirks up momentarily as he sits on the bed and looks who’s messaging him so late; not many people have his number, and a substantial portion of them wouldn’t bother him at this hour unless it were urgent.

Flicking the lock screen away, he’s surprised to see the message is from Ghost. It’s short but considerate. A little sweet, really. Truth be told, Soap’s only has a minor headache, nothing that would warrant his quick retreat from the game. The real reason why he disconnected was this bitterness that swallowed him whole. Ghost has been ignoring him ever since John left Manchester, and then he shows up with this entirely impossible scenario and some unknown friend to boot? John is not jealous; that was probably the first thing he ruled out. He’s not a jealous man and never has been. But he is confused, and that confusion leads to frustration.

“Just a headache. Thanks for the game, it was interesting,” John types and sends the reply. He knows he could’ve ignored it and could pretend he was already asleep.

And since his phone starts to ring in the next second, he’s sorry he actually did reply. Well, no way around it now. With a sigh, he takes the call.

“Ghost,” John says in a way of greeting while he sheds the towel around his waist and gets in the bed.

“Johnny… how are you?” the deep timbre of Simon’s voice is pleasant. Soothing, almost.

John frowns, remembering he forgot to open the window a bit to let some fresh air in. “Fine. Tired, have a headache, nothing a good night’s sleep won’t solve.”

Simon hums in contemplation, Soap uses the break to get from the bed and open the window. The moment he does, cold air hits him hard. He’s still a bit damp on the back. A low hiss catches Simon’s attention. “You sure you’re alright?”

“Aye, ‘s just bloody cold outside. My balls almost froze the moment I opened the window,” John admits.

Simon chuckles into the phone, and John pauses. He sounds different than in the game. It makes sense, of course; a phone call has a different quality to it. “Do you build a blanket nest on the base as you did at my place?” There’s a hint of teasing lightness to his voice.

“I might, got a problem with it?” John challenges, but there’s no bite.

“Why should I? It’s just…,” Simon trails off, as if unsure how he wanted to finish the sentence.

“Aye?” John presses on, seeking the warmth of his blanket once more. It’s nice to be snuggled in bed with Simon in his ear. Suddenly, all the bitterness and frustration from earlier simply fizzles off. He never had any real reason to be angry, anyway. It’s not like Simon owed him anything, and he didn’t ghost (or Ghost?) him, either. Every time John asked, Simon simply politely declined, never left him hanging.

“It’s a little unusual,” Simon finally finishes the sentence from earlier.

Now it’s Soap’s turn to chuckle. “I bet you’ve seen a ton of weirder shit when you served.”

“I did, but I always appreciated a nice quirk. So long as it wasn’t dangerous.”

“The opposite, actually. It’s a camouflage technique, really handy behind enemy lines,” Soap says, pretending to be dead serious. In moments like this, he feels like he’s known Simon for years: the banter, easy conversations, jokes.

“Right. I guess the field manual changed since I got out,” Simon plays along immaculately.

“Nah, it didn’t; this is our very own Scottish thing; you wouldnae ken about it.”

“That explains it. Speaking of, I was meaning to ask… why SAS?” That’s a good question. Usually, people assume it’s just a prestige thing. However, someone who’s ex-SAS would know better.

“Didnae wanna be a cog in the regular army, knew I had what it takes to make the selection, and I wanted to do shit that actually matters,” John answers truthfully. Only a handful of people know his reasons; the rest got the usual bullshit of serving the country and being the best. “Why did you do it?”

There’s a moment of silence. John actually expects an outright refusal, but he’s at an advantage: Ghost asked him first and got the truth. It would be a dick move to bail now. “I was never a great team player,” Ghost starts and pauses, thinking about what he’s just said before continuing. “Well, that’s not exactly true… I was never a great babysitter. I worked best alone and I was so good at it, that my CO had no choice but to ship me out to the selection. Told me it’s the best he can do for me and that I would thank him later.”

“Did you?”

“I did. Eventually. I didn’t enlist because of some ideals, I joined because I had nowhere else to go, never aimed to prove something to some wankers I’ve never seen.”

“Did you ever regret it? Enlisting, I mean.”

“No. Never. I’m not really religious, but I guess it was my calling. Something I was meant to do. Otherwise, I couldn’t have been so damn efficient at it. It all came easy to me. Not all, but things that mattered. Stuff that helped me survive and complete my missions.”

Soap stays silent, feeling Simon’s words sink under his skin, heavy and tinged with darkness. Before he can think of anything to say to that, Simon continues. “Sorry, that turned a bit dark I guess. We should probably hit the bed, especially you, Sergeant.”

“I can handle an early start and shitty sleep, Ghost, don’t you worry,”

“Yeah, but I can’t. Remember, I’m an old man now,” Simon’s voice carries a lightness of smile.

“I see. Well then, out of respect to my elders, I’ll let you go then. Good night, Si,” John uses the nickname. He’s been very careful with it so far, unsure if Simon likes it or not.

“Good night, Johnny,” Simon repays him in kind.

I tried Ghost Recon Breakpoint since I dropped it soon after it released. Ubisoft actually kinda fixed it! I still like Wildlands more, but it ain't bad. Created a totally-not-OG-Soap, too.

#Soap is in deep denial #And even deeper shit #Late night phone calls like high school sweethearts #call of duty #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghost x soap #ghoap #ghost mw2 #soap mw2

[siriuslychessi]

Jilychallenge September 2023

For @jilychallenge2023 @jilychallenge

Partner: @constancezin (who is the best ever)

Read in AO3

“look maybe we are holding hands under the desk in class but that doesn’t mean he/she likes me”

They had cornered her again, she felt there was a vendetta against her, not every muggle born, but just her. It seemed that the wanna be Death Eaters had put a target on her back and she hadn’t noticed, because it seemed that no matter where she ended lately, there they always were. 

She didn’t have it in her to fight, she just wanted to take a long bath in the Prefect’s Bathroom, forget about her tiredness for pulling an all nighter, but the bigoted wizards had other ideas in mind.

Why did they have to be so annoying that early? Why couldn’t they be asleep?

She wanted to be asleep, but she felt like a long bath first, and they wouldn’t be the ones that stopped her from doing so. 

Lily wasn’t even going to face them, she was just going to pass them and ignore the two of them, but then Rosier and Stebbins smirked, and she knew they weren’t going to let this go. 

What she didn’t notice, at first, was that the two of them weren’t alone. Two of them she could have handled, but then Rossier and Stebbins, turned into Crouch and Carrow and other two 5th years that Lily didn’t remember the names at the moment, but hanging around the others meant that they weren’t exactly good for her. 

The five of them had it against her, not only because she was a muggle born, but because of the scene se had caused with Snape last year, and the fact that she kept showing them off by being an amazing witch that got the praise of all the Professor while they deemed her, and anyone like her, inferior. 

Evans had even put a couple of them in detention more than one time, and she was sure they would make sure that she wouldn’t be able to do that anymore. 

“Look what do we have here, a mudblood on the loose.” Carrow sneered as he took his wand out.

“Can we not do this now? It’s too early to get headaches." She complained, trying to figure a way to outrun them, to get out of there without minimal confrontation, but she wasn’t sure that she would make it. 

“Do what?” one of them fainted innocence, but she could see that he was looking at her movements, her hand near her wand in a protective stance. 

Lily was about to reply, to try and take her wands away, to signal someone for help, anything that would get her out of there unharmed. When she heard a familiar voice behind her. “Alright there, Evans?” 

James Potter was never someone she would be glad to see, not always, he could be arrogant and full of himself, but he certainly had great timing. She didn’t want to turn around, to see him and give her back to the other 5, but she nodded, gripping her wand, not wanting to make a fuss, but not being dumb about the company.

“This doesn’t concern you, Potter, it’s between us and the mudblood.” Rosier replied. 

“That’s not very nice of you.” Lily heard James say as two red flashes passed her, making two of the other students faint. She didn’t had time to react when someone grabbed her by her free hand and pulled her backwards, away from the party. “Run!” he instructed her, pulling on her hand trying to get her away from there.

“Why did you do that for! They weren’t doing anything!” she yelled, but her legs moved away from the boys, she didn’t want to be in the middle of that mess, much less after Potter had hexed them.

“Because they are bampots and were about to hex you!” he replied, “I’ve just bought us some time!” he replied back, frustrated with the situation, and a bit winded, like he was tired. He looked sweaty, and his breath came in pants as he tried to run faster away from the other boys that managed to follow them.

His shirt was stuck on his wet chest, as if he had been working out this whole time, and Lily was definitely not looking but her brain found it odd, and compelling at the same time.

A few hexes flew pass her, and her body reacted first than her mind. She threw a few hexes, and protective charms, trying to get the others to stop, to leave them alone, but only seemed to fuel them. 

James never seemed to stop, even when he was visibly tired, he just pushed forward, and fought back as well. Why did he go to that length to help her? He could have stepped away and let them be, but he tried to make sure she was safe.

Lily didn’t know what to think of it. 

Eventually they lost them. The bullies just disappeared, or got tired of following, and James was grateful because he could barely breathe. 

“Are you okay?” Lily asked, concerned, a little winded herself. 

James could only nod as a reply. “Brill.” he tried after a few more breaths.”

“I didn’t think that you would get tired so easily.” she teased, knowing that he was doing something else before finding her. 

James looked at her, almost rolling his eyes, like saying ‘Please, don’t mock me, Evans.’ but he was just trying to catch his breath.

“Mmm, may I have my hand back, please?” she asked after a few moments, noticing how he was still holding her hand, not in a possessive way, but more in a carrying way, like he would still run away with her and protect her from the idiots that were name calling her. 

She blushed a little at that thought. Why was she thinking of Potter like anything other than a bully? He had hexed the others while they were just being idiots, that was not enough reason… Well it was but she was supposed to be above that. But he didn’t even hesitate on being on her side, on standing together with her, even if his own status cleared him of their mean treatment. 

“Oh.” he said, releasing his grip, “Sorry.” he mumbled. 

Lily felt a bit disappointed at that, somehow she missed how protected she felt. Even if rationally she knew she could protect herself. 

“No problem. Do I need to get Pomfrey?” she asked worried that he wouldn’t be able to recuperate. 

James shook his head, and took his wand, pointing it at his mouth. Water began pouring from it, and James drank it a few times before being a coherent human being again. “Better,” he smiled at her, “You made me train harder today than ever, Evans.” he chuckled, sounding a bit better now. 

“Training?” she blinked, not understanding. 

“I run every day to train for Quidditch, builds stamina. But wasn’t expecting to run longer than usual.” he admitted, taking his glasses and trying to clean the fog generated from his heated skin, “What were you doing up so early? Rounds? That can’t be…” he pondered for a minute, “Oh sorry, don’t mean to pry, not everyone is up this early.”

“I understand,” she cut his worries short, “I wanted to get to the Prefect’s Bathroom, pulled an all nighter.”

“Ah, and that is when you found those lovely friends?”

“I wouldn’t call them friends.”

“Me neither, bloody bigots.” he said, placing his specs back on. “I can go with you if you’d like.”

Lily raised an eyebrow and James’ face paled at the insinuation of his words.

“Oh Godric, no!” he hurriedly replied, “I meant just to the door, to make sure they don’t bother you! I wouldn’t… I would never, that’s not…”

“Relax, Potter, I understood.” she said with a small laugh. It was rare to see him flustered. “I would appreciate it, but don’t you have someone to be?”

“A shower, probably.” he laughed as well. “I can make sure that they don’t bother you and pop in one before classes.”

Lily looked back at the corridor where they had just come from, and then at James, he was being sincere, but she couldn’t ask him of that, he needed to get to his dorm as well. And if she was being honest, she didn’t want to consider what it would be to walk out of the bathroom after and be alone. She didn’t feel exactly thrilled to find the 5 boys again, even if the chance would be remote now. 

“It’s okay, we can go back to the tower, I’m sure I can hog mine before the girls wake up.” she admitted, starting to walk in the direction of the tower. 

James followed.

Lily had had time to ponder the events of the morning. 

The bullies, James, the fear she felt of being trapped, James' soothing voice asking if she was okay, the few hexes exchanged, James sweaty body, how she felt like she wouldn’t be exactly safe going places alone, the reassuring hand on hers…

She really felt conflicted about the whole situation. First, she wasn’t some damsel in distress, yes, she was technically a damsel, and she had been in distress but she could handle herself, she wasn’t some woman that needed rescuing. At least not all the time, but she had been glad, so glad that Potter had come to help her. The relief she felt was genuine, even if her heart was making her think inappropriate things about Potter.

They were friends, their relationship had improved, but that was it, she didn’t have feelings for Potter, it was just all mixed up with her gratefulness from the morning.

Charms class came not long after, they were assigned partners according to their last grade. And of course she got James, why did he had to be brilliant at Charms? Why couldn’t see be set with Mary or Remus, or anyone that didn’t make her heart jump and her brain overthink?

She was about to sit on her seat when another student stepped on her path. 

Carrow was there, scowling at her, but she knew he wouldn’t do anything in front of the professor.

She moved to pass him over, when she heard him say “Next time you won’t get away, scum.”

It was less than a whisper, but loud enough for her to hear. 

She didn’t know why but it made her fear a little, not enough to panic, but enough to understand that while she was there, there wouldn’t be a moment of peace, not from him. 

Why didn’t they just mind their own business, why did they have to poke and provoke her?

She finally made it over to her seat. 

Hand shaking.

Moving her hands below the desk, closing them, trying to stop them from shaking.

Why did it have to affect her so much? Why couldn’t she be stronger? Or braver?

She didn’t notice when someone sat next to her, just when a rough hand was set on top of hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.

It wasn’t demanding, it wasn’t pushing her to look up, or to even move, just a little squeeze to say ‘It’s okay’ and maybe ‘You are not alone’, making her breath easily, to remind that courage wasn’t facing things alone without help, but just facing them the best one could.

Then there they were, holding hands below the desk, with complicating feelings, not sure if their liked each other like that, or it was just the mixed situations surrounding them, but for that little moment they shared their courage with each other.

#jilychallenge #jily #fic #mine

[spartanguard]

cryptid chaos (A Tall Tail)

Summary: It's almost Halloween, and the recently freed Author has decided to make Storybrooke into the setting of a horror novel. Emma suddenly has actual swan wings; Killian is even more of a mer-creature than usual. But how do they undo all the changes when no one knows how the Author's power works? Can they figure it out--or are they stuck? a/n: Welcome back to the A Tall Tail verse! So I definitely meant to have this done for Halloween, but…it's still spooky season, right? Hope you enjoy some silliniess! rated T | 8.7k words | AO3 | A Tall Tail

Emma let out a long sigh as she stared across the water of the harbor, the full moon’s dappled reflection dancing in the waves. What a freakin’ week. In all the chaos of the so-called Queens of Darkness and locking Gold away, they’d kind of forgotten about one of the bigger things they’d been trying to do: tracking down the mysterious author of Henry’s storybook in search of Regina’s happy ending. 

Once things had settled down a bit, they got back into it—kind of literally; it turned out the Author (whose name was Isaac, apparently) had actually been trapped inside the book. She was becoming more and more used to (or jaded by) magical bullshit, so to see a man emerge from the pages of a gigantic tome from a key inserted to an illustration of a door wasn’t the oddest thing she’d seen, but it was still weird.

Although now it’s just a headache, she complained to herself.

Since his arrival—or, rather, escape—the squirrelly man had been causing all sorts of drama across town; I guess that’s what a writer does, huh? It had all been petty nonsense, or people with bones to pick about how their life had gone (and really with no one to blame for it but themselves), but everyone had been demanding her help in dealing with it and she needed a damn break.

Which was why she was waiting for Killian on the deck of the Jolly Roger; he’d gone out for one of his usual swims to calm his magic, but they had plans to spend the night together. Alone. And very close, with few clothes. (Maybe with some rum in there, too.) Technically, Emma was early, but her little brother was teething and, though she felt bad leaving her parents to deal with that, she’d needed to get away from the chaos of the loft.

Being by the water was definitely calming her down, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off; maybe it was just Isaac, and the psychological upheaval he seemed to be inducing in most of the town; or maybe it was just the fact that it was a full moon and they were a few days away from Halloween—gods only know what kind of trouble that can bring to a town like this.

That was a problem for future Emma, though; current Emma smiled when she heard footsteps fall on the gangplank and began to turn around to greet her True Love. 

“Was wondering when you’d…oh.” Her face fell; it was Isaac. “Can I help you?” (...Get out of town, preferably.)

“Actually, I was hoping it’d be the other way around,” he said, in a way that reminded her of an appliance store salesman.

“Beg your pardon?”

“Have you ever heard of the legend of swan maidens?” he asked, moving closer to her; she wanted to yell at him about setting foot on deck without the captain’s permission, but she was too confused. 

“Uh, some of it, I guess?”

He pulled out a pad of paper and an antique-looking pen from his coat pocket as he went on. “Well, there’s a few, but I’ve always been a fan of some of the Irish stories—the ones where their goddesses choose to take on the form of a swan, only identifiable by a chain around their neck,” he said, nodding at Emma’s own silver necklace. Instinctively, her hand went to it—to hide it, she guessed, even though her old swan pendant was long gone and the necklace she’d fashioned for her magic seashell was made of leather. What the hell is he getting at?

He looked down at his notepad and started to scribble something down. “I imagine that would come with a lot of freedom—especially from some unwanted burdens,” he continued. Oh, like your presence? Emma quipped in her head. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“I guess,” she said, unconvinced. Her phone then vibrated in her pocket; hopefully, Isaac was almost done here. 

“Good,” he replied, with a smile on his face that she couldn’t quite read. Then he tore the page off his notebook and handed it to her.

Not thinking, she took it. She tried to read the drying ink on the paper, but only managed to recognize the word “wings” before a blast of magic sent her falling backwards—and over the railing of the ship into the water below. 

Please let Killian be here, she hoped; but no such luck. Instead, she fell into the sea with a splash and the cold water stole her breath. She tried to move her arms up and down to ascend, but it felt like they were made of lead. Still, she pushed through, and finally broke through the surface. 

She gave herself a minute to float and catch her breath before swimming back over to the ship (and punching the crap out of Isaac). 

It was odd, though—usually, she needed more lower-body effort to tread water, but her arms alone were keeping her above surface-level.

So that’s when she looked at her arms—and screamed. “What the fuck? What the FUCK?” She didn’t care who heard her swear—but, on second thought, she did care who saw her. 

Because she now had freaking wings where her arms had been. Not, like, angel wings coming from her back or something—literal long, feathered appendages where her much-shorter arms had been a minute ago. In fact, they looked like…”A swan,” she realized on a breath. Just what the hell did Isaac do?

She glanced around for the piece of paper he’d given her, but it was floating ahead of her, completely soaked—and illegible. But it had to be him, right?

Well, first thing first: she had to get out of the water. Can I fly? She flapped her arms—wings—whatever they were, if only to see what would happen. Astonishingly, she did rise out of the water a bit, before falling back even farther in.

Undeterred (and starting to feel self-conscious), she did again, and again, until, somehow, she was in the air. She had absolutely no idea what she was doing, but some new sort of muscle memory took over and all too soon, she was soaring around the harbor. This is actually kind of cool, she acknowledged, but definitely not something I want permanently.

Isaac was no longer on the ship; she should probably try to track him down, but she had no clue how to counter…whatever it was he was doing. She was still pretty fuzzy on his powers and how they worked. Regina was the most likely person to find, but for some reason, she didn’t want to bother her just yet; nor did she want to terrify her parents by turning up at the loft like this.

And she definitely didn’t want Killian to see her. So she headed to the only place she could think of—the cove; he wouldn’t think to look for her there, and she could stay away from prying eyes. And gods only know what this wind is doing to my hair.

Somehow, she managed to land on her feet on the rocky shore, though she wouldn’t call it graceful. Her wings instinctively folded in on themselves; that’s gonna take some getting used to. And she paced the beach while thinking of what to do—and coming up with no ideas.

She was the Savior and the Sheriff; shouldn’t I be out there trying to stop him? But how could she when she didn’t know how? And was this a targeted attack, or was he going to do this again? Is this why I can’t shake this weird feeling about him?

Her thoughts were interrupted by splashing near Killian’s rock. Oh crap; that better not be him. Cautiously, she stepped closer, but extended her wings in case she needed to make a hasty escape.

Something reached up from the water—but it wasn’t her True Love. It had webbed fingers, and blue-toned skin covered in scales, like some creature out of a horror film. 

Nope. Not dealing with monsters, too. Before whatever-it-was could climb out of the water and terrify her further, she took flight (much faster this time) and flew off into the night. She didn’t know where she was headed, but she was getting as far away from the water as possible.

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

Killian broke through the surface at the cove to see something flying away. Bloody hell; I bet that was her. Given what had just happened to him—and comments that bloody author fellow had made—he had to assume something similar happened to Emma. And whatever that creature was looked particularly like a swan.

He’d been out for his regular swim, with plans to meet Emma at his ship for a much-needed evening alone. There were times when he was under water that he lost track of time, but tonight was not one of them—not when he knew he’d be having much more fun above the surface. 

But when he ascended to the deck of the Jolly Roger, he was shocked to see Isaac there. Alone. When he asked if he could assist him, the man instead returned the offer, then pointed to Killian’s tail, on full display as he perched on the railing. “What a plot twist,” the man commented. “I never could have anticipated that. Makes for an excellent story.”

“Aye; I suppose,” Killian had responded, confused. Isaac continued on, though, talking about other creatures of the deep; honestly, Killian was distracted, and starting to get worried about Emma, when he mindlessly agreed to something Isaac had said—perhaps about truly embracing his powers? 

The author had written something with a queer-looking quill on a notepad, then tore it off and came closer to Killian. “I’m glad you agree; Emma did, too.” Then he handed the sheet over.

“What did Emma—” Killian started to ask as he took the slip of paper, but he didn’t get to finish his question before a wave of magic came from nowhere and toppled him off his seat.

He was distinctly aware of the way some odd magic was wrapping around him as he fell back into the ocean—it was definitely transformation magic, but unlike the kind he usually felt, which focused on his lower half, this went all over. It’s like when the Dark One cursed me…but at least not painful.

Once he regained his orientation underwater, he gave himself a checkover; for starters, he could see much clearer than he should have been able to at this time of night. He definitely had gills on his neck again—but also a few along his ribcage as well. He ran his fingers over them, which when he noticed that the webbing between them had returned—but rather than his usual pallor, his skin seemed to have taken on a bluish hue and was covered with even more scales. And he took my bloody chest hair again.

The real question was if it had the same effect on his ability to breathe out of the water; thankfully, when he broke the surface, he didn’t suffocate. That will at least make this easier—whatever this is. He hated to make a retreat, but he didn’t want to draw any undue attention by his odd appearance now, so he dove back under and made for the cove; he had to hope Emma would understand—and prayed she wasn’t dealing with a similar transformation of some sort.

But seeing the winged creature fleeing the beach seemed to confirm his fears; and knowing Emma, despite everything, she’d want to deal with it on her own. Like hell I’ll let her, though.

But he’d give her a moment to calm down, and took one of his own to assess if this new spell had altered his powers; thankfully, as a whirlpool formed in the water in front of him where he sat on the edge of the rock, he seemed to be alright on that front. He wasn’t sure what was ahead, but had a feeling those would be necessary.

Then he reached for the shell necklace that always hung around his neck.

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

Emma was trying to live up to the bird stereotype by perching in a tree in the middle of the forest. Trying being the operative word; oh right—swans are waterfowl. But she eventually managed to find her balance high up in a birch. It was only a temporary solution, but it was the one she felt most confident about right now. She just wished her unexpected dive hadn’t fried her phone so she could let her parents or Killian know she was fine; not like I could really use it now anyway, what with the lack of fingers and all.

Of course, that’s when her other means of communication made itself known. “Swan?”

She cringed for a moment; normally, she loved the way Killian said her chosen surname, but it was a little too on the nose right now. (At least I don’t have a beak too, I guess?)

Taking hold of the shell was a whole other thing, though; it worked best when held in a hand, but she wasn’t sure how it would work with—gods, what even was her bone structure right now? She’d never had an ornithology class like Henry did. 

Regardless, she had to figure out how to get some sort of grip on the shell hanging around her neck; it took a fair amount of fumbling, but she somehow managed to bend her wings just enough to prop the shell on her elbows(?) and bring it closer to her mouth.

“Hey, I’m here,” she finally answered, though her tone was far from casual.

“Are you…okay, love?” He sounded like he already knew the answer; it wasn’t her thing to stand him up without a word.

“I…don’t really know,” she answered.

“Something happened,” he said more than asked.

“Yeah.”

“Isaac?”

Uh-oh. “Yeah,” she replied, a bit more confidently. 

“Me too.” He at least sounded less morose than she did, but this—this wasn’t good. “I’m at the cove; meet me here?”

“I, uh,” she stammered. “I don’t know if you’d, ah, want to see me right now.”

“Emma, you know I always want to see you. Besides, I likely have more reason to say that—although I dare say you’ve seen me looking less than ideal before.”

Gods, what had happened to him? He was right, though; he always freaking is. “Yeah, okay; just—give me a few.”

“I can’t wait.” She smiled; regardless of—whatever was going on, she knew he was telling the truth.

Flying was getting easier; she wasn’t sure if that was good or not, but was really just concerned about what kinds of phone calls were coming into the station about some giant bird flying over Storybrooke. Not a problem for tonight though.

Landing, however, was still hit or miss; in this instance, a miss: she didn’t quite slow down enough as she came into the cove and ended up rolling across the pebbled shore. “Owww,” she moaned as she stood and shook the sand from her feathers—then froze when she heard a gasp come from behind her.

She turned—and her own breath stilled. It was definitely Killian seated on the rock (who was definitely the owner of the hand that had scared her earlier, she was embarrassed to admit). His whole upper body was that blue color, made all the more apparent by his lack of body or facial hair (goddammit, Isaac took his beard?)—like when he was under that weird merrow curse, but apparently without the confinement to the water.

Slowly, she moved closer, noticing other new features and—was it just her, or were his eyes an even brighter blue? Or did they just seem like that with how much younger he always looked without his scruff? She wanted to touch his skin, to see what it felt like; she started to reach for him until she remembered—she couldn’t.

Killian, for his part, couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her; his expression was unusually unreadable. “What?” she had to ask, feeling even more self conscious.

He smiled, his dimples even more visible. “Still so beautiful, Swan.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, emphasis on the swan part.”

“I dare say you ‘rock it’, as Henry says.”

Well, that made her laugh. “Okay, fine, but they shouldn’t be here at all,” she complained, her subsequent huff even more visible now.

“Nor should this,” he countered, waving his now-webbed fingers at her. “And we’ll figure out how to get back to normal. But perhaps we'll leave it for tomorrow?” He stroked the edge of her wing with the back of his hand, sending a chill up her spine—a good feeling for the first time since…has it only been an hour? Damn.

She knelt down next to him and, awkwardly, wrapped her wings around him in the best approximation of a hug she could manage. He slipped his arms around her waist to pull her close; he was even colder than usual, but it was the closest she’d felt to normal since this all started, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

It certainly wasn’t how she planned on spending their night, but it’d have to do for now; with any luck, they’d at least be able to go without interruption for a bit.

“Mom? Hook?” Spoke too soon. She didn’t move away from Killian, but she did sit up and look over her shoulder; Henry was standing not far from them, looking confused and concerned. “Something weird is going on.”

Obviously. 

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

“What’s the matter, lad?” It was obvious to Killian that Henry was avoiding eye contact, and he didn’t blame him—he was sure they were quite the sight. But hopefully if he remained somewhat calm, Henry would, too. 

“Well, I…uh, I was going to say that Isaac has been going around and changing things, but I think you might kinda know?”

“What else has he done?” Emma asked, stiffening in Killian’s arms. 

“A bunch of things,” Henry explained. “It started with my mom—I don’t know exactly what he did, but she ran off to her vault, and was covering her face. So I went to see Grandma & Grandpa, but they didn’t answer—I just heard some weird noises behind the door. No one was at Granny’s but I think she’s a wolf again, because there was a big silver one hanging out with Ruby. And I think I saw a swarm of fairies or something? I’ve never seen them small like that.”

Bloody hell; what a mess. It would have been naive to assume he and Emma were Isaac’s only targets, but he’d thought the man was trying to help Regina; why had he attacked her, too?

“What the hell is he doing—making his own little circus sideshow?” Emma complained; that’s certainly what it felt like. “I didn’t think he could even do that.”

“I’ve been working with Belle to figure out how his powers work, but we haven’t gotten very far,” Henry said. “And he won’t say.”

“To the library, then?” Killian posited; one of the best things about regaining his legs was his ability to help out there again. But, speaking of— 

“How can we get you there?” Emma wondered, reading his mind. “I can barely fly myself, let alone both of us.” 

“Maybe my cuff still works? It’s still on the ship.”

“I’ll go get it.”

Watching Emma take flight was somewhat amusing, but also somewhat beautiful, particularly when she opened her wings fully to lift her off the ground. And much like how quickly he adapted to a lack of legs, there was something almost natural about her flying. 

“Wow,” Henry gasped as she took to the air. “That’s…wow.”

“Aye,” Killian sighed. “Obviously none of this is ideal, but I don’t think anyone would complain if you managed to get some pictures with your talking device?”

Henry smirked. “I’ll try.” But his face quickly fell. 

“Hey—we’ll figure this out,” Killian assured him. “We always do.”

“I know,” the boy answered. “It was just—the way my mom looked at me before she left. It was Ike she was scared…of me.”

No wonder he’s shaken; poor kid. “Whatever it was, I’m sure she was just trying to keep you safe; I’ve never known her to have any other motivation,” Killian told him, hoping that comforted him. 

“Yeah; I’m just worried.”

“Understandable. But let’s try to channel that into focus, aye?” He’d had many an anxious deckhand over the years, not to mention his time spent with Henry’s father, so coaching a nervous young man was nothing new. 

Henry nodded just as Emma returned; damn, that was quick. Her land was much more graceful this time around (still far from perfect, but just as endearing). 

She had the cuff in her mouth and nearly spat it at him. “Sorry; wasn’t sure how else to hold it,” she explained, before opening her mouth to stretch her jaw. 

“It’s fine,” he waved off, ignoring the new teeth marks in the leather. “Here’s hoping this works.” He slipped it on and felt the familiar transformation magic take hold; at least it’s welcome this time.

It worked—mostly. “Huh,” was all he could manage to say when he pulled his legs from the water. He had them, at least, but they had the same pallor and texture as the rest of his skin. (At least, for Henry’s sake, my briefs returned, too.)

“Well? How do you feel?” Emma asked as he stood up. 

“Parched,” he answered honestly. Despite being able to breathe out of the water, he immediately felt dehydrated. 

“Yeah, you look a little…dull,” Henry confirmed. 

He mused for a second, then called up some water from the sea. It swirled around his legs and waist, creating a sort of aquatic garment. It likely looked strange, but he immediately felt better. 

“Shall we?”

The three of them surely made an odd sight as they walked through town—of all the weird things Storybrooke had seen, a harpy and a creature from the depths traipsing down Main Street was definitely up there. Despite knowing he wasn’t the only one in a new form tonight, Killian couldn’t help but feel rather like a fish out of water, quite literally; he didn’t often feel self conscious, but the sooner he stopped dripping water down the sidewalk, the better. He just hoped that idiot author hadn't done anything too drastic to anyone else. 

The library was unlocked—unsurprising, given the unusually late hours Belle kept it open (typically for situations just like this)—but the mess that greeted them in the foyer was a shock. What in Poseidon’s name happened here?

“Belle, love? You here?” he called out; the worry in his voice was obvious. It wasn’t like her to leave things like this unless something was wrong.

“Back here,” Belle’s voice said, but—why is she so loud?

The three of them made their way to the back part of the library—he was careful not to drip on any of the strewn books—to where it looked like even more of a disaster area. Shelves were knocked down domino-style and ceiling tiles were scattered over them. A few lights had been knocked out, too, making the farthest part of the library dark—but not so dark they couldn’t still see Belle.

It would be hard for her to hide—she was probably 20 feet tall now, if not more, but she’d somehow managed to curl up along the back wall.

“Well, you’re finally taller than me,” Killian eventually quipped, once he found his voice again. What else was he supposed to say? Emma tried to slap him with the back of her hand, but only ended up smacking his chest with the end of her wing and making him stumble backwards.

Belle chuckled—making the whole building vibrate—but then admonished, “Don’t you dare drip on any of these books?”

I’m bloody trying! Regardless, he acknowledged the order with a salute, but Henry got down to business. “What happened?”

“Isaac,” Belle spat. Now that they were closer to her, though, her voice boomed in the comparatively smaller space, making them all wince. “Oh, sorry,” she said softer—but that just brought her back to normal volume. “Something tells me you lot have seen him too?”

“Yup,” Emma confirmed, concurrent with Killian’s “aye”.

“He was commenting on my height,” she started—throwing a pointed look at Killian— “and how impressive it was that someone so small had such power over the Dark One.” The roll of her eyes was almost audible. “Then he said something about my stature matching my personality; I thought he was joking so I said ‘sure’, then he handed me a piece of paper and—this happened.”

“Yeah, that’s what he did to us, too,” Emma said; evidently, Isaac could alter things by writing them—but how?

“Do you have the paper?” Henry asked.

“Um,” Belle hummed, glancing around at the debris surrounding her. “Yeah, here it is,” she said when she found it, placing her (massive) finger on it and sliding it across the tile to them.

Henry picked it up and read aloud: “A giantess: so your stature matches your spirit.” His brow furrowed. “He’s turning people into cryptids?”

“At least, various kinds of mythical beasts,” Killian concurred; if there were actually any beasts out there that resembled him at the moment, he’d have likely encountered them by now. “But you had to agree with him first, right, Belle?”

“I guess so; was it the same with you?”

“He can only change our fate if we want him to,” Emma concluded; he agreed with the hypothesis. “Isn’t that why he was working with Regina?”

“Yeah,” Henry confirmed. “But he did something to her, too.”

“Do you know anything about how his powers work?” Killian wondered, turning back to Belle.

“Only what I saw firsthand,” she supplied. “It’s definitely connected to writing, but I don’t know yet if it’s his own magic or if there’s a conduit, like the pen or the ink. Regina might; or…” She chewed on her bottom lip and ducked her head. “Or Rumple would.”

Of bloody course he would. But they all cast their eyes downward, knowing the Dark One was still locked up in a cell a hundred feet below them. 

Before he could start to steel himself to face the Crocodile again, Emma decided. “Regina first,” she stated. “Before we go, do you need anything? Like, can we help you get out or anything?”

“No; I’m fine for now; but I might need some food if this goes on much longer.”

“We’ll do our best to get it worked out,” Killian assured her; there was no way he was going to let his best friend essentially become a prisoner in her favorite place. And who’d have thought it’d be an author that put her there?

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

After saying goodbye, they hustled across town to the cemetery. Along the way, they were startled by the two wolves prowling the patio at Granny’s, and it felt like there was something lurking down every alley, hiding in the shadows. 

A stream of colored, bobbing lights flew overhead—the fairies, in their true form, Emma had to assume. Farther up the street, it looked like the dwarves had gathered together, too. Oh gods—what did he do to them?

Surprisingly: nothing. “That weirdo tried to ‘revert us to normal’ or something, but whatever he did, it didn’t work. Probably because we’re already technically ‘magical’ creatures,” Leroy explained, using plenty of finger quotes. “So we’ve just been patrolling for trouble since it seems like we’re the only ones not dealing with shit.” He heavily glanced at Emma’s wings then. 

“Uh, thanks,” she said, studying the pavement. “If anything happens, text Henry or Regina, okay?”

“Will do, sister; think we filled up the answering machine at the station anyways.” Yeah, that checks out; she sighed and carried on. 

The vault door was open once they got there, but the crypt was closed over the hidden door; that was easy enough to move, though. 

“Mom?” Henry called out as he descended the steps ahead of her. “Are you okay?”

Regina was nowhere to be seen in the first room at the foot of the stairs, so Emma called out for her, too—while being careful to keep her wings tucked in and not knock anything over. 

“You shouldn’t be here!” Regina’s voice came from…somewhere farther back in the vault—a part Emma had never been to.

“Wait here,” she told Henry, then crept off in the direction it sounded like Regina was hiding in. It was dusty and, weirdly, she felt it settle on her feathers in a way that itched. But down a passage and behind some shelves, she saw a huddled form. “Regina? You alright?”

“Why are you here, Miss Swan?” she bit back, hiding in the shadows. “And why did you bring our son?”

“Because he’s worried about you,” she tossed back. “And honestly, I am, too; what’s going on?”

“That stupid author—that’s what,” Regina spat. “Supposedly, this is how he’s helping me get my ‘happy ending’.”

“...By making everyone else something out of a horror movie?”

“And by making me an immortal, apparently.” Regina stepped into what little light there was. She looked a bit pale, but not a lot more than usual. If anything, she was somehow more gorgeous. (Yes, despite their past issues, Emma could still admit that Regina was an impossibly beautiful woman.)

“Immortal how?”

Regina smiled—kind of; more like bared her teeth. But that’s when Emma saw it: she had fangs. Like a… “Vampire?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Regina said sadly. “I didn’t even know what he was getting at when he started writing it down; he just went on about ‘getting away from my problems someday’. I didn’t think he meant outliving them.”

Who on earth would think that was a good idea? “Is that why you ran away from Henry?”

Regina nodded. “This is going to sound awful, but…his blood smelled amazing.”

“Shit.” I’d run away, too. “Uh, do you need me to leave, too?”

“No; apparently, I don’t have the palate for bird blood.”

“Hopefully you don’t want fish, either,” she quipped back.

Brow furrowing (in a way that absolutely made her look like something out of Buffy), Regina sniffed the air. “Hook? What did he do to him?”

“Did you ever see The Shape of Water?”

“Oh, wow. Well, uh, have fun with that.”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

“No—and definitely not in front of Henry.”

They both giggled, but it was only a brief moment of levity. “So can you tell me anything about how this happened—like, how the author powers work? So we can undo it?”

“Some, but he hasn’t been very forthcoming with the details,” Regina answered; she confirmed that his powers were tied to his pen and ink, as well as their theory that it has to be something they want. “He can change things but he still needs some level of consent from at least one party. We should be glad he didn’t write us into an entirely new reality.”

Emma shuddered. “So, what—we just track him down and force him to change it?”

“Maybe? It’s a good theory, but Rumpelstiltskin knows far more about this than I do.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

“Sorry. Just…don’t bring Henry down there, okay?”

Emma was about to protest—where the hell else am I going to take him to keep him safe from Isaac?—when Regina’s phone rang. 

“Crap—what did he do to them?” the mayor complained when she saw who was calling—Snow. She answered the call with a snarky “And what shape are you in?”

Except—she didn’t get a response. Normally, Snow would huff at Regina’s sass, but the only thing that came across was just a series of grunts and grumbles.

“Snow?” The grunting seemed to make a noise of affirmation. “What is going on over there? This better not be the world’s worst butt dial.” (“They don’t sound like that,” Emma quipped, cringing.) But then crying came over the speaker—definitely Neal.

“He’s still teething?” Regina winced. “That was the worst.”

“Yeah—but who’s there with him?” If her parents were fine, nothing would be stopping them from trying to soothe him; Neal pretty much only wanted to be held by her dad right now. “We better check that out first.”

“Absolutely. And let me know how everything else goes.”

“Will do. Do you need anything before we go?”

Regina chewed on her lip, her fangs even more apparent. “Did you see any squirrels up there? I’m starving.” Emma bit back a giggle. “Don’t laugh! I’m serious. And if you ever bring this up again, I can make sure those wings are permanent.”

Emma definitely laughed to herself all the way to the loft, though. Until she heard the sound of her brother crying and her motherly instincts kicked in. “Wait here; let me see what’s going on first,” she told the boys, then knocked on the door with one of her elbows (or whatever those joints were). The same grunting she heard on the phone came from the other side, but somehow more urgent.

Henry ended up having to turn the knob for her, but then she slipped in—and, yet again, her jaw dropped.

“Well, Mom does always say you have big feet,” she said, once she regained something resembling her faculties.

The sandy-blond sasquatch that had David’s eyes huffed in annoyance. Meanwhile, the snow-white yeti that vaguely looked like her mom wasn’t hesitating to take her by the wing and drag her to the bassinet, where Neal was inconsolable.

“He’s scared of you?” Emma guessed; Snow nodded sadly.

(Seriously—Snow, a yeti? At least Isaac has a sense of humor.)

“Okay, but I can’t do much either,” she said, flapping her wings. “Henry? It’s okay; can you come in?”

She saw his phone come through the door before he did, no doubt taking plenty of photos and videos for them to look back on. “That’s just wrong,” he concluded at the sight of his (much hairier) grandparents; Killian was clearly holding back a quip, no doubt in response to David’s many jokes in the past about his chest hair (especially given the current reversal of that situation). 

“Kid, think you can take care of your uncle while we figure the rest of this out?”

He pocketed his phone and quickly scooped up Neal. “Sure thing. We got this, right, little dude?” Neal quieted for a little bit, but then let out another ear-piercing scream. Everyone cringed.

“Okay; good luck with that—bye!” she called over her shoulder as she shoved Killian ahead of her in a hasty escape. 

“Will they be okay?” Killian asked as they headed back down the stairs.

“Oh yeah, they’ll be fine. My ears will not be, though.” They shared a laugh. “Alright; let’s get this over with.”

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

“Back again?” Belle greeted them at the library, having moved slightly from her cramped spot in the back to a no more comfortable, but at least larger spot, having shoved the ruined shelves aside and laying across the whole room.

“Aye; into the belly of the beast, as it were,” Killian replied as they headed to the elevator.

“Good luck,” she said, sounding more bored than anything; despite the public’s requests, the library had yet to seriously invest in any large-print books that might help her pass the time.

As they descended in the creaky elevator, he wasn’t sure if the creeping chill he felt slipping up his spine was due to the inherent cool temperature of the caverns below, or his own emotions at facing his longtime foe for the first time in a long while—since Rumple nearly killed him that day on the docks. 

Emma’s feathers brushed against his hand, startling him from his thoughts. “Sorry; I was trying to grab your hand, until I forgot I can’t. You gonna be okay?”

“I will,” he answered, hoping he could convince himself as much as her. There was nothing the Crocodile could do to them, he knew; but despite thinking he’d moved past what he’d experienced at the Dark One’s hands, his anxieties were creeping up.

“I’ll take the lead, though, okay?”

“I appreciate that, love,” he thanked, and squeezed the edge of her wing.

The caves below the library were little changed from his last trip down here, even if he was on the opposite side of things now—with the heroes, rather than against. However, this was the first time he’d seen the cage that had been fabricated to hold the imp. It was set deep into the wall, not unlike the one that had once held him back in the Enchanted Forest, but with solid metal bars clearly from this realm. It wasn’t hard to feel the magic radiating off them, though. 

“Rumple? You there?” Emma called out; this cell went farther back than the light could reach, so it was easy for the man to hide. For the first time, Killian wondered what his mental state might be, given his brief insanity after being held hostage by Zelena (body sharing with his son notwithstanding). 

“No,” the Crocodile’s voice called out from the shadows. “Come back later and I might be, though.”

“Ha. We found the Author.” She stood in front of the far edge of the cell.

She’s wise not to ask for help, he noticed. Handing Rumpelstiltskin any cards was a terrible idea.

“Good for you; what does that have to do with me?” 

Emma had been fiddling with something on the wall with one of the joints of her wings; all of a sudden, light flooded the cell, revealing a rather dusty but otherwise normal-looking Dark One, still wearing the same (stylish, he hated to admit) suit as the day they locked him up.

Rumple blinked his eyes at the sudden brightness, but once his sight had adjusted, he skimmed over Emma and then Killian. “I see,” he said. “I’d be happy to undo it, if you let me out.”

“Nice try, but no. We’ve just been trying to figure out how his powers work. We know his pen and ink are involved. Trying to figure out if it’s worth it to steal it back.”

Killian had to school his features; he was genuinely impressed at Emma’s negotiation tactics here. Obviously, they wouldn’t be here if they didn’t need help, but outright asking would get them nowhere. As such, it was taking more effort than expected to keep a proud (or smug) look off his face.

“It’s not,” Rumple replied. “That’s only half of it.”

“Really? Regina seemed to think that’s all we needed.”

“Regina is wrong. But the only person who can actually help you is currently locked away.”

“Again, you’re not getting out.”

“Not me,” he hissed. “But the pirate knows who.”

Emma turned to Killian, confused. “Huh?”

For a brief second, he was also unsure—until he glanced over at the Dark One, who was smirking—and wiggling the fingers of his left hand. 

Oh, bloody hell. Killian sighed and curled in on himself a bit. “The old man.”

“Otherwise known as the Sorcerer's Apprentice—and a thorn in my side for quite a few years, until I finally had some assistance locking him away.”

Shame flushed hot on Killian’s unusually cold cheeks. “He’s in the hat box, love,” he said quietly. 

“Ah, crap,” she cursed. “Does Regina know how to get anyone else out of there, or was that a one-time thing?”

“I’ll tell you if you let me—” Rumple started, only to be cut off.

“No!” Emma interjected. “C’mon; I bet Belle knows.”

“How…how is she?” the Dark One asked, suddenly sounding rather genuine.

“She’s a bloody giantess and stuck in the library right now, thanks to that idiot author,” Killian jumped in. “But otherwise fine.”

The Crocodile opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it and slumped in on himself. “The fairies,” he said, resigned. “They’ll know how to get him out by now.”

“Thanks,” Killian said quickly, then grabbed Emma by the wingtip and practically dragged her back to the elevator.

What little adrenaline he had faded on the slow ride up, and he simply wrapped himself around Emma. “Hey—this doesn’t feel like okay,” she said softly as she folded her wings around him—a feeling he was coming to quite enjoy, odd as it was.

“Just—being reminded of the man I used to be, even not that long ago,” he admitted. “I’m so sorry, Emma.”

“Hey—we’ll figure it out. And remember: that was way more Rumpelstiltskin than you.”

“I don’t think you’re giving me enough credit, love.”

“This is the one time you should just accept less of the blame, alright?”

He chuckled a bit; she knows my tendency towards self-flagellation well. “I’ll try.”

“Okay. So now, we find the hat, and then the fairies. And then maybe it’ll all be done?”

“Let’s hope.”

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

Is this night fucking over yet? Emma took a moment to breathe after Killian left to retrieve the Sorcerer’s hat box thing from Gold’s shop, per Belle’s instructions. The fact that their to-do list kept growing was really annoying, and gods only knew what else Isaac had done in the last few hours.

There was a light at the end of the tunnel, but it still seemed like it was incredibly far away.

And she was craving fish sticks. Is that a swan thing? Or is that an I-never-had-dinner thing?

She gave herself one more minute to brood before starting the search for the fairies. On the bright side, they literally were—bright; she just had to be on the look out for a cloud of multicolored lights (giving off far more Christmas vibes than Halloween). But they weren’t in the middle of town, so that meant actually looking, and she did not have the energy to go traipsing around on her own right now. 

Might as well use these while I have them. For hopefully the last time, she took to the sky, hoping a (literal) birds-eye view would help her locate the swarm of fairies faster. Sure enough, once she was fairly high above Main Street, she saw the floating baubles—near the convent, unsurprisingly.

They were a little miffed when she accidentally flew through the middle of them, but when she explained what was going on and what they needed, they practically carried her back downtown on their breeze.

Killian was already standing outside the library with the golden box, looking visibly uncomfortable with it. Don’t blame him. Before she even had a chance to (try to) properly land, Blue was buzzing in front of him, conducting a few other fairies to take the box and hold it in front of her.

She stood next to Killian and watched as the head fairy went to work quickly, waving her wand and muttering something over the cylinder. The starry blue top began to swirl, like it had when they released the fairies, and glowed as it became something more resembling a portal.

All of a sudden, it stopped, and an old man that Emma had seen around town a couple times was seated on the pavement, looking rather bedraggled (though I think he kind of always did).

Killian didn’t hesitate to rush forward and help the man up, no doubt uttering profuse apologies as he did. The Apprentice was trying to get his bearings, it seemed, but was at least appreciative for his freedom. 

“Hi,” Emma jumped in, not wanting to delay things any longer. “I know you just got out of that hellhole, but we were kind of hoping you could help us with something.”

He looked her up and down, and then Killian. “I can see that,” he said gruffly. “I don’t recall the Savior having wings.”

“Uh, yeah, recent addition. What can you tell us about the Author?”

She didn’t think it was possible for the man’s bushy brow to furrow further, but it did. “That blasted fool…this was Isaac’s doing?”

Everyone nodded—and that was a lot of everyones; at some point, more and more townsfolk had converged on the main intersection, and it was apparent that all manner of mythical creature and cryptid were now among its citizens.

The Apprentice looked around at everyone, then tutted. “Shameful, shameful—abusing his powers like that. That’s why I banished him in the first place. Whose brilliant idea was it to free him?”

“Uh, mine,” Regina said, stepping forward (with a scarf wrapped around her face, likely to block the smell of…everyone). 

“Yeah, that checks out,” the Apprentice huffed. “Well, on the bright side, he’s probably ran out of power by now. He can no longer do harm, but he also won’t be able to undo what he’s done.”

“Can’t you just give him a magical eraser or something?” Emma wondered. (Regina smirked, even under the scarf.)

The Apprentice chuckled. “No; I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that. However, if Isaac has lost his powers, then a new Author needs to be chosen, and I have a feeling we’ll find one here.”

“Where?” Killian practically demanded. 

“The Author has to believe in the stories, truly—in their heart,” he said dramatically, placing his hand on his chest.

She and Regina exchanged a look; we know someone who fits that description exactly.

Emma called up to Blue, asking them to find Isaac and bring him there, while she took off in the direction of the loft.

In the time it took her to get her son (and her parents, because they should really be there for whatever was about to happen, too), something resembling chaos broke out in the scene that she had left. An angry mob formed in the crossroad, surrounding Isaac, who lay prone on the pavement, being held down by an irate Regina, baring her fangs.

“You did this to me,” she hissed. “Why shouldn’t I use it against you?”

The man looked terrified; serves him right. The crowd was shouting for him to fix what he’d done (her parents grumbling incoherently in agreement), several voices demanding he undo it.

“I can’t!” he shouted back. “The pen doesn’t work for me anymore!” To underline his point, he tossed the enchanted quill away.

“I warned you not to abuse your power this way,” the Apprentice said, his voice deafening even the most frantic shouts around him. “You deserve everything these people might do to you.”

Isaac glanced at Granny and Ruby, who were snarling at him, and whimpered.

Emma was distracted, though, by Henry. He had something of a faraway look in his eyes, and almost mindlessly passed Neal off to Snow (at least the kid was asleep). His focus narrowed on something ahead of him, on the ground: the pen.

She watched as he carefully moved forward, almost as if he was drawn to it. Emma’s gaze darted briefly, first to Regina, who was also watching; then to the Apprentice, who almost seemed to be smiling where he stood next to Killian. 

The crowd also realized what was going on and a hushed silence fell as Henry neared the object. 

He knelt in front of it, reached out, and carefully picked it up. It glowed as soon as his fingers touched the enchanted instrument. 

“I thought so,” the Apprentice said warmly. Emma couldn’t help but beam with pride and ruffle her feathers; Regina grinned too, not bothering to hide her fangs. 

Henry blinked and stood. “Wait, what?”

“You, young sir, are the new Author,” the Apprentice explained, approaching Henry. From thin air, he produced a vial of ink. “And I dare say far more worthy than your predecessor.” He threw a dirty look at Isaac, who was still cowering. 

Cautiously, Henry took the ink. “Thanks, but…what does that mean?”

The Apprentice chuckled. “I’ll explain it all; don’t worry. But right now, I believe there’s some unnecessary plot twists that need to be straightened. 

“Right!” Henry felt around his pockets for—something, but came up empty. “Crap, I don’t have any paper.”

“Over here!” Belle called out from an open window in the library, her face taking up most of it. “Henry—here!” A few pieces of paper looked no bigger than a Post-it in her fingers as she reached through the window. Henry ran over and grabbed it, but wasn’t sure what to do when he returned. 

“I can help you with this first one,” the Apprentice offered. “Start with the ink.”

A few people chuckled as Henry struggled with getting ink from the bottle to the quill tip, Killian included; assholes—ballpoint pens were invented for a reason. 

“Now, you’re not supposed to change or influence things, but undoing an abuse of power like this—that’s okay. Try writing…this: ‘those whose physical forms had been affected by the previous author’s changes that night were reverted back to their original forms.’”

“To…their…original…forms,” Henry repeated, writing the words, then ended it with a forceful period. No sooner had the pen left the paper than a burst of magic rippled through the crowd. 

Emma curled in on herself as what had been done was undone; she’d been too distracted when Isaac first came after her to really pay attention to the magic happening, but now that it was being reversed—ugh, it’s like my feathers are being plucked. (She wished she’d been standing closer to Killian so she could lean on him, but he’s probably going through something similar.)

Thankfully, it didn’t last long. Once the odd sensation passed, she stood up straight, rolled her shoulders back, and stretched her arms—just arms once more—above her head. “Thank frick,” she sighed. 

Behind her, her parents laughed; she turned to see that they were back to normal (and Neal was clamoring for David). All around, everyone was standing and stretching as they shook off the effects of what they’d just been through. Regina was hugging Henry tightly in the middle of it all. 

To little surprise, Granny and Ruby were still fierce, and were dragging Isaac in the direction of the cells below the hospital. Well, he’s still gonna be a headache—but one that could wait a day or so. 

Across the way, Killian was talking to a normal-sized Belle while standing in a puddle; his skin was back to its normal pallor and the gills were gone. (His beard and chest hair had also returned, thank the gods.)

He caught her gaze and appeared to excuse himself from Belle, then headed her way. “That looks better, Swan.”

“Not literally, thankfully,” she quipped back. “You look much improved yourself,” she added, resting her hands on his chest. 

“Certainly feel more like myself,” he answered. “Although—I’m not generally this exposed around so many people.” He was only wearing his usual swimming briefs—and a blush that was creeping up his cheeks. 

“Mm, then perhaps we should find somewhere private to be half naked.” 

“I like the way you think, love.”

“Too bad I can’t fly us away anymore, though.”

He hummed, then pulled his hand between them, where a white feather was twirling in his fingers. “Maybe you can channel that?”

She giggled, and transported them back to his ship. Placing a kiss against his (scruffy) cheek, she grabbed his hand (finally!) and pulled him toward the stairs. “Let’s get to what we were going to do earlier.”

“Gladly,” he sighed, and followed her to his cabin…

…where they promptly fell asleep. (But got to the fun stuff the next morning.)

Cryptid Night, as it came to be known, went down in Storybrooke legend; and thankfully, no one experienced any long-lasting effects. (Well, other than David complaining about finding fur around the loft for a few weeks after.)

Emma did notice, though, that the pure white feather Killian had picked up was displayed prominently on a shelf in his cabin. As much as she never wished to relive that night, she always smiled when she saw it—and was glad Henry had taken plenty of pictures.

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

thanks for reading! tagging some mermates: @cocohook38 @kat2609 @mryddinwilt​ @xpumpkindumplingx​ @optomisticgirl @shipsxahoy​ @clockadile​ @kmomof4​ @initiala​ @snowbellewells​ @word-bug​ @idristardis​ @wingedlioness​ @theonceoverthinker​ @annytecture​ and I can’t remember who else was into this 

#cs ff #cs halloween #mermaid!killian #a tall tail #my ff

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 3 — Ambushed

Chickened out on the actual prompt so I used an alt, but it’s still nice and whumpy. Also just so everyone knows I would die for Warriors and Legend’s brotherly dynamic. That is all.

Warnings: blood and injury

Ao3 link

————————————————————

“I’m sick of these woods.”

Warriors glanced over at Legend, who was wiping the sweat off of his forehead with a foul expression.

“I agree, but that doesn’t make you grumbling about it any more enjoyable,” he said pointedly back. “They can’t go on forever.”

Legend muttered something about it feeling like forever, and Warriors sighed.

They’d been trekking through this blasted jungle the better half of an day, and both heroes were tired, sweaty, and beyond ready to get out of it. And as much as Warriors hated to admit it, Legend was right; it truly did seem as if the steamy path had been going on forever.

Though Legend complaining about it nonstop had grown old about an hour ago.

“Well we’ve got to catch up to the others eventually, we weren’t in that town for that long,” Warriors tried again, and Legend just scoffed.

“Great. Then we can all be miserable together.”

Warriors couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“Would you just knock it off already? I’ve already got a headache from this awful humidity, and your complaining isn’t helping,” Warriors grumbled back, and Legend turned around and glared.

“Oh I’m sorry captain,” he said in a fake-sugary voice, “did you maybe consider that I was talking to try and ignore my own headache?”

“Well glad to hear we’re in the same boat in that regard,” Warriors snapped. “I’m sure the sound of your voice will make us both feel so much better.”

“Well it’s better than just trooping along in silence!” Legend snapped back. “Pardon me for trying to take my mind off of things! If your precious head hurts so much why don’t you go knock it against a tree or something!”

Something rustled in the woods.

Warriors froze, shutting his mouth from where he was about to shout back, and Legend froze as well, the two standing in silence for a couple tense moments.

“You heard that right?” the veteran murmured, their argument immediately dropped. Warriors gave a somewhat stiff nod. “Any clue what it was?”

“I don’t know,” Warriors murmured back, flicking his eyes towards the side of the road.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary as he looked at the trees and foliage, but something had changed in the atmosphere around them, something that made Warriors tense. Him and Legend had both heard something, but the question was whether it was just a particularly suspicious-sounding animal, or something else more dangerous.

Wait, that had been—

A horn blasted through the trees, and the two heroes whipped around to see a veritable army of monsters charging towards them from two separate directions, neatly hemming them in.

Legend‘s eyes grew huge and he dodged an arrow that went for his head, yanking out his sword and shield in mere seconds.

“Since when do monsters plan ambushes?” he shouted, and Warriors didn’t have an opportunity to reply. There were monsters everywhere, slicing at him, screeching at him, clawing at his face, and it was all he could do just to not get killed.

He and Legend fought back to back for several minutes, but the monsters were steadily pushing them apart. Before Warriors knew it he could barely even see Legend anymore, and he cursed their lousy circumstances.

In a fight like this, he and Legend needed to stay together.

He gritted his teeth and focused on fighting back the horde, sword swinging and scarf waving. But it soon became evident that there were simply too many monsters against them, mostly black-blooded as well.

A bokoblin managed a hit on his side and Warriors hissed in pain, stumbling backwards a bit. He could tell the cut wasn’t serious, but it was painful, and now he was bleeding.

Great.

The monster screeched happily and went to get him while he was reeling, but Warriors lunged forward and lopped it’s head off before it could do anything else. Another ran up to take its place, but Warriors dodged its attack, stabbing it before it could realize what was happening.

A cry from Legend suddenly rang out from across the battlefield, and Warriors whipped around. He looked frantically around for the veteran, and was only able to watch as a lizalfos ripped its sword out from Legend’s shoulder.

A spray of blood accompanied the action, and Legend reeled back, face white as he clutched at the injury.

“Vet!” Warriors shouted, and immediately began to fight his way over, keeping one eye on him while the other focused on the monsters falling to his sword. He felt a blade sting his shin and another catch him on the back, but that didn’t matter, as Legend had managed to kill the lizalfos but was now facing a huge moblin.

Legend looked like he was about to fall over, and Warriors could see his sword arm trembling even from across the battlefield.

The monster snarled, and swung its club down at Legend, the hero barely managing a clumsy dodge. Warriors frantically sliced his way past a bokoblin that was blocking him, and Legend stumbled, right as the monster swung its club down again.

Catching Legend right on his bloodied shoulder.

He was flung to the ground with an agonized scream, and the moblin roared in triumph. Warriors felt his heart lurch straight into his throat, and he launched himself forwards, raising his blade and stabbing it deep in the monster’s shoulder.

“You’re not touching another hair on his head,” Warriors spat, and the moblin roared in pain and fury.

He ripped his sword out and spared a glance down at Legend, curled in on himself as his breathing came in short, frantic gasps. He desperately needed to check on him, but the monsters had to be taken care of first or else Legend wouldn’t be the only one in trouble.

The moblin’s club came crashing down again and Warriors threw himself in front of Legend, a sharp crack ringing through the air as the weapon hit his shield.

He hissed and shook out his arm, the hit making it ache unpleasantly, but he didn’t have time to check for damage. The moblin smashed its club down again, and Warriors grunted as he was pushed back, nearly on top of Legend.

The veteran made a small noise, then let out a pained cry as he threw his arm out, blasting the moblin with the fire rod he’d somehow managed to pulled out.

The monster let out one last roar, but Legend kept up the stream of fire until it finally disappeared into blackish smoke.

“For Farore’s sake Legend are you trying to completely wreck your arm?” Warriors directed down at him, and Legend couldn’t even reply for a minute due to his gasps.

“N-no thank you?” he bit out eventually.

Warriors shook his head in fond exasperation, but couldn’t reply, as more monsters had swarmed around them. He quickly fell into autopilot, dodge, slice, parry, shield, spin attack when he could manage, ignore the injuries that were piling up.

Defending Legend and also keeping himself alive was incredibly difficult, and the longer the monsters pounded at him the more frantic Warriors got. He spared any glances he could towards Legend, who hadn’t moved any further and was looking incredibly pale, and fought even harder.

Time became a blur. Warriors didn’t even know how many injuries he had, he just knew that if he stopped to notice them all he wouldn’t be able to resume fighting.

He could feel himself flagging, and as he looked out at the swarm of monsters still coming at them, he knew this wasn’t a fight he could win.

He needed to get Legend out.

Warriors bit his lip so hard he tasted blood and grabbed in his bag, feeling around for his bomb pouch. His fingers hit leather and he didn’t hesitate before launching several bombs in a line in front of him, sending both smoke and monsters up in the air.

It wouldn’t hold them long, but it would hopefully be enough for him to get Legend somewhere safe.

Warriors then whipped around and dropped to his knees next to the veteran, who’s breath was still coming in short, pained gasps. His entire shoulder was stained crimson, and Legend’s eyes were closed tight with pain, body trembling.

“Ledge, buddy, hey, I need you to look at me,” Warriors said as he put a hand on his arm, and Legend let out a groan that turned into a whimper.

Warriors cast a quick glance back at the monsters that were starting to pick themselves up, and gave Legend’s arm a squeeze.

“Legend. We need to get out of here. I’m going to pick you up alright?” he said, and the veteran gave a barely-there nod. Warriors gave him a tight smile, and started to pull him into his arms, shushing him when Legend let out a sharp moan.

He hadn’t understood the warning for what it was.

A club slammed into his side, and Warriors was thrown away from Legend with a wheezed gasp, the air knocked right out of him. Something cracked and Warriors choked at the pain slicing up his side, his vision blurring. But he bit it back, and frantically lifted his head to look back at Legend.

A black bokoblin stood over him, eyes filled with a sadistic glee.

It raised its weapon, and Warriors shouted in outrage and pain as he forced himself to his feet, lunging forwards to block the blow with his sword. His side screamed with pain and black spots danced in his vision, but he threw his blade at the monster, stabbing the bokoblin in the heart.

It fell backwards and took Warriors’ sword with it, but the captain barely noticed due to the white-hot pain in his side.

The monster’s brethren behind it screeched, and Warriors dropped to his knees, feeling like he was going to pass out. He sucked in a gasp, and heard Legend make a small noise behind him.

Not yet Link, can’t pass out, not yet, he repeated to himself, gritting his teeth.

Protect the civilians.

Warriors sucked in an agonized breath, and grabbed his shield in one hand, Legend’s in the other as the monsters swarmed him. Countless swords and clubs rained against the items but Warriors didn’t move from where he was crouched over his brother.

Several weapons made it through but Warriors didn’t falter, not when another club hit him in the leg, not when his arm became numb, and not when a cut dangerously close to his eye made it hard for him to see.

He would defend Legend to his dying breath if necessary.

Suddenly a loud screech went up, and Warriors heard a shout. He raised his head a bit, and saw several monsters falling, shafts of arrows sticking up from their collapsed bodies. The ones surrounding him and Legend were quickly picked off, and Warriors looked dazedly across the battlefield where several figures were standing, the edges of his vison growing dark.

He met eyes with Sky and Time, who were making their way towards him and Legend with horrified looks on their faces.

Warriors couldn’t help his smirk as they ran up, blood trickling down his face.

“‘Bout time you lot showed up.”

Then his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu legend #lu warriors #whumptober 2022 #whumptober2022 #alt prompt #ambushed #writing from the floor #I like how this one turned out :)

[99redragons]

Part of the Madness Ch.4 - Sinking

Recovery isn't a straight line.

Gen, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, PSTD, dissociation, thoughts of self-harm

Read on AO3 Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3

When that night, his pain hadn’t improved, he started to get worried. It wasn’t that bad, some light pain medication did the trick to suppress it, but the low, constant distraction made it hard to think. 

Marcy insisted on him continuing to rest. Maybe she could tell he still wasn’t one-hundred percent still. He didn’t want to bring it up, it would fade eventually, right?

He went out to take a night walk out of the cave (‘It’ll be a short walk, I’ll take it easy, I promise’). It was a nice evening, one of those where it was a bit windy and fresh. 

It was as he stuck his hands into his pockets he had to stop, suddenly, as his headache increased threefold. 

“Ugh,” he groaned. His head pulsed, gently, and he scrubbed a hand under his glasses in frustration. Couldn’t he do one thing without struggling? He’d tried to make borscht that night (Marcy can drink the red, and it was a comfort food), but he’d ended up needing a ton of help; his hands still weak and his arm still sore. He rubbed said arm, it hurt still, a low ache, but not nearly like his head. Luckily PB and Marcy were plenty happy to help him cook, but it was the principle of the thing. He wanted to be able to do things on his own. He also felt guilty about not helping out when he was over. Cooking was the way he contributed every time he invaded their space by crashing here. He’d stayed over so long those first few years–it was just the least he could do.

Simon shivered—it wasn't even that cold out—why? He rubbed his arms, determined to continue walking anyway. 

He let his mind wander as he walked, replaying his conversation with Minerva over again. Being himself would happen with time, huh? He hoped so. 

Why was it so hard?

Why had he thought it would be a good idea to put on the crown? Why did he bend so easily to it, immediately going to it as the solution? Well...part of the answer was easy—power. He’d never felt powerful as Simon Petrikov. The Ice King, on the other hand, could defend himself, at least… The other part was harder. Why’d he pick it over any other option they had to fight? Getting help, for one. If that option even existed—they hadn’t had many. The answer was there, as much as he didn’t want to face it. With the belief that his life didn’t matter, the next step was easy; sacrificing himself as soon as the thought came to him. He felt his stomach twist thinking about it. How did he begin to let himself out of this maze of his own grief and self-loathing? 

He’d have to figure it out as he went along.

He stumbled over old junk a few too many times and decided he was a bit too out of it to be wandering this late. 

He let out a huge sigh as he got back and opened the door. Stripping off his overcoat, PB called from the couch, “Nice walk?” He glanced up, breathing in the warmer air gratefully. 

“Mm,” he acknowledged, and slumped into a chair. She gave him a commiserating look. PB was reading the book Finn had brought him. They had both had a bit of fun puzzling over it (determining it wasn’t cursed, luckily. It wouldn’t be the first time Finn had unwittingly done that). 

“Another one for the Ice Library?” He asked, defeated. It had become a bit of a storage space for Simon—there were too many books to move out, not unless he had a new castle of his own. And Gunther didn’t mind him hanging around every so often, when he could tolerate the ice.

“I’m definitely not having much luck with the other language here.” She sighed. Oh well. 

Marcy came in and settled beside her girlfriend, kissing her on the cheek. “How’s the nerding going?”

“It’s fascinating, but I can only wrap my head around the spells. The language isn’t something I’ve come across before,” she said. “Pretty neat! I’ll have to get the story from Finn on where he found it.” She closed it with finality, handing it back over to Simon.

Marcy scoffed, “Only you could be pleased with a book you can’t even read,” she teased lovingly. “Nerds, the both of you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” PB smirked.

Simon ran his fingers over the spine—it was old as garlic balls, worn, leather. It soothed him to feel its carved surface, to touch something.

Glancing between her girlfriend and surrogate father, Marcy ventured, “You good, Simon?”

“Huh?” He looked up, tearing his eyes away from the book. He blinked. “I’m fine,” he said, words hollow on his tongue.

“Okay, man. PB and I are gonna put on a movie.” He nodded.

As the movie played he let it wash over him, words and sounds blending together into white noise. He wasn’t paying attention. Of course. The TV was farther and farther away. He struggled to gather what it was about, now—the low light of the TV the only light in the room, washing over everything with fuzzy blue. He felt himself slipping a little further every minute that went on. He wished, suddenly, that he still had a penguin to hold. But that was a comfort he couldn’t bring himself to ask for. 

What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just enjoy things as they are? 

A cold, hollow pit settled in his gut. The room felt foggy, like it was at the end of a tunnel, his body felt too small in too big a space, curling up in the chair with a little shudder. He ran his fingers through his hair in a last ditch effort to ground himself.

It wasn't enough. He gripped harder, carefully, slowly. 

Suddenly something landed on him and he jumped, becoming aware of Marcy floating over him all at once. 

“Wha-“ he started, muzzy.

“You’re welcome,” Marcy said simply, warmly.

He blinked, shifting a little and feeling the soft fabric over him. A blanket. 

He blinked again, and Marcy was once again curled up with PB watching the movie. 

“-Thanks,” he blurted out belatedly. It did help.

They let him be for the rest of the movie, and he didn’t complain. He might realize he was dissociated as heck right now, but he still enjoyed just being in the company of family. He didn’t want to interrupt. He slowly managed to untangle his fingers from his hair and took a long sigh, grasping the blanket and trying to just enjoy the movie. The action hero was having some kind of extended tragic goodbye with his apparently-dying partner. Hmm. He watched as nearly the very next scene showed them alive and well in the hospital, tearfully reuniting. Credits started to roll, and some ancient rock song played the scene out. 

He felt the hollow pit in his stomach twist with thoughts of Betty.

They didn’t get their happy ending. Maybe what happened was the happiest result they would have ever had. 

It didn’t make him feel less heartbroken. 

He sat there, long after the girls had taken the movie out, staring at the screen. They left him alone, probably just glad he was sitting still and ‘resting’.

“We’re heading to bed, you want us to make up the couch for you?” 

“Simon?”

“Huh?” He shook his head, rousing a bit. 

“We’ll leave you some blankets and a pillow, dude. Get some sleep.” Marcy said fondly.

He nodded, managing a ‘goodnight’ as he pulled himself up to sit properly, dragging a hand over his face. He grumbled after they were gone, stumbling up and into the kitchen with the blanket around his shoulders, looking for water. Water would help.

He opens the fridge to the massive collection of berries and apples and other red produce Marcy drained, among the other varieties of food-a lot of sweets- now that PB lived with her, and leftover borscht. Hmm. He cracks open the freezer out of habit, too, in case they have any treats in there. 

As he stares into the freezer, a roiling mess of thoughts he couldn’t sort settles over him, and he stops, transfixed, brain stuttering like a record skipping. He had visions of shoving his hands in there, burying them in frost until they were numb and his arms burned. His mind conjured all the ways he could take a bag of ice and sit with it in his lap, curled around it till he was chattering, sit in the bathtub, lips blue—

He squeezes his eyes shut, head pounding, casting his mind away, searching for thoughts of anything but ice, something warm, anything—

He slammed the freezer door closed and leaned against it, feeling its reverberating thrum of complaint. He slid slowly down it, and something about the scene was familiar, though the role was wrong.

He’d come so far. It’d been so long. He could go longer. He shuddered, pulling the blanket tighter around himself and drawing his knees up.

Simon sat there, on the cool linoleum kitchen floor, until his eyes drooped and his butt hurt from sitting there so long. He hauled himself up, eventually, groaning.

“You okay?” asked PB from the doorway, in pajamas. She looked him up and down, and relaxed a bit. 

“Fine,” he said, even as his head pounded. 

“Are you still in pain?” She came through the door, arms crossed, displeased. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

He didn’t hide his wince well enough, apparently. He paused, hand going to his temple. “...I figured it would go away on its own, but…”

“How bad is it?” She pried, coming closer, and he wished she’d leave it be.

“It’s fine, it’s nothing—medication helps—“ he defended, but she wasn’t having it.

“If you need meds for it, it’s not nothing,” she said, and trotted over to the freezer, before thinking better of it “Have you tried…” she hesitated, hand paused mid-reach. 

“No ice,” he croaked, tired. 

Her shoulders fell. 

He closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. 

“...At least let me or the doctor know if it gets worse.”

He nodded, to get her to lay off, and began to walk away, collapsing on the couch with his face scrunched into his hands.

He heard her follow him, pause in front of the couch, then leave. “Good night, Simon,” she sighed.

He fell asleep to the thumping of his heart, and his dreams were of Betty.

They were lost, happily, in the woods together, laughing and soft gazes and gentle hands together. Those were some of their happiest times, exploring the unknown together. 

They danced together under the falling leaves, turning, twisting deeper into the trees.

His heart twisted in bittersweet remembrance.

She’d ask him where they were going, and he would say nothing, and lead her onward, deeper into the dark.

She’d hum soft melodies to him, trying to catch up to him, and he’d hum along, smiling, still without a word.

The woods would turn twisting, mazelike, sharp branches and dark boughs. The undergrowth would twist to bar their passage, and still all the while they were laughing, smiling, as he led her down. 

He barreled on, until they were thoroughly lost in the woods that grew ever more foreboding.

She would stay close by his side, trusting him, adoring him. She would say something funny and he would laugh, warm and happy.

The wood warped and weaved, until they were in a labyrinth of darkness of their own designs.

Still he led her onward, her hand gripping his tightly, his feet moving without his input, just the endless slog deeper. 

She’d never seemed happier.

They’d come to a pool of water, ice-blue and deep and eerily perfect and smooth. 

He would wade into it, confident, face blank now, eyes white. 

And she would follow.

Then he slipped into the blue, gasping, struggling to find his limbs in the shock.

And she would follow.

He flailed, and sank, slowly, like quicksand, the freezing water sinking into his skin, his bones—

And she would follow.

He cried out, finally, finally able to speak, “Betty, no! Run! Get away from me!” His chin barely above, sinking, as it slipped over his mouth, his nose, his eyes.

And he saw her, under the water, her hand still clasped tight to his, as she smiled, and spoke something to him he couldn’t hear. He didn’t listen.

Then she gave him one, gentle push, and he was gasping, shivering, on the surface, now a frozen mirror. He fell to his knees on the hard ice, heaving and sobbing, as he watched her sink, sink, sink, unable to do anything but slam his fists against the ice as she smiled all the while.

“Goodbye, Simon.”

“BETTY!!”

Simon gasped, flailing awake, sweating, panting. He clapped his hand over his mouth as a sob burst out. He curled up, dug his fingers into his hair, and silently sobbed. Voices swirled, whispering awful things to him, not of ice and snow but guilt and self-doubt, tormenting him with insults and fears.

He didn’t sleep for long, fitful hours after that, finally drifting off, curled up, hands twined in his hair and tears on his cheeks.

#fionna and cake #fionna and cake fanfic #simon petrikov #angst #hurt/comfort #my writing #99redragons art #potm

[chickenfics]

Team ‘Weekend Trip to Asgard’

Relationship: Loki x Fem!reader (SFW)

Summary: When Bruce invited you to a quick weekend getaway, you’d hardly expected your destination to be Asgard. Just like you’d hardly expected to be accompanied by two gods – one of whom you’re convinced hates your guts. But who would have thought that the God of Mischief has a thing for flowers, a talent for reciting Shakespeare, and knowledge of all the best places for stargazing? Certainly not you.

But in a weekend filled with sunny fields and boisterous feasts, with accidental skinny dipping and drunken magic tricks, you would begin to realize all the different ways Loki could surprise you.

Word count: 8.5k

A/N: I work with horses as my real-life job (lol), so apologies for all the random and unimportant horse facts in this chapter, I just couldn't help myself. Also I'm convinced Loki is a horse girl, sooooo...  Content warning: talk of shitty parents, some mildly suggestive themes, take a shot every time you read the word 'dick' (just kidding, don't do that lol)

Also on Ao3

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Chapter 8

You couldn’t have been asleep for very long. In fact, you swore you’d just nodded off when someone was tugging on your shoulder. It took your body a minute to even register the touch, considering how desperately you were trying to regain your sleep, but after that minute, you couldn’t ignore it any longer. 

Blinking your eyes open, you were startled to find a certain God of Mischief staring at you from a few inches away. 

“What the--”

“Sh, shhhh sh,” he put a finger to his lips, then reached out as if he was going to do the same to you but decided against it. 

“Get up -- come on. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“Oh Lord,” you muttered as he helped -- more like dragged -- you to your feet. “Why am I suddenly afraid.”

“What, you are?” he stopped, seeming a bit wounded. 

“No, Loki,” you sighed, smiling weakly. “Just-- what time is it, anyway?”

“Mm, an hour or so before sunrise. What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I don't know… What’s the surprise?”

“Oh, right. Come on, come on,” he once again began guiding you out of bed. 

“Wait -- oof, Loki,” you pulled back, nearly falling over as your dress tangled up around your legs. “Shouldn’t I maybe change first?”

Loki straightened up, scanning you from head to toe before biting back a smirk. 

“Yeah probably. We don’t need any additional reasons for your already poor mobility to be inhibited.”

“Okay, it is way too early for all of… that,” you waved a hand at him, and Loki opened his mouth, looking like he wanted to throw you over his shoulder or something. 

Thankfully, he didn’t. 

“Do you mind maybe…” you gestured towards the door. 

“Oh. Yes, of course. Don’t go back to bed, though. I’m trusting you.”

“Yeah yeah, alright. Just, give me a damn minute, okay?”

Loki huffed, but he was having an increasingly hard time keeping a straight face as he ducked around the curtain. You couldn’t help but notice how he carefully arranged it so it was covering the doorway before stepping aside. 

Shaking your head fondly, you changed and grabbed your canvas bag, assuming you wouldn’t be coming back to the palace any time soon. 

Between getting up so quickly and all you’d had to drink last night, you could feel a headache starting at your temples. Loki must not have worked his magic like last time. 

You mentioned as much when you joined him outside your room. 

“No Loki hangover cure this morning?” You joked, rubbing your aching temple and trying to clear the fuzziness from your eyes. 

“Oh right, nearly forgot about that,” Loki replied, and then without warning, he reached forward and grabbed your head between his hands. 

Green tendrils of magic filled your peripheral, and after a quick buzzing sensation, all traces of your headache were gone. Before you even had a chance to react, Loki removed his hands from your head and flashed a quick, toothy smile. 

“Now, where were we? Are you ready? We really should be going…”

“Yep, lead the way,” you sighed, wondering what you were getting into. 

You’d never seen Loki this… excited? You’d seen him impatient when you’d all first arrived on Asgard, and he’d been distinctly moodier than he was right now. No, this seemed more like excitement than anything else, though the impatience was certainly still there. 

That was evident enough by the way you had to practically run to keep up with him and his long-ass legs. But once you’d reached the front doors to the castle, Loki slowed so you could catch up with him. Waiting until you were by his side, he held out an arm.

When you glanced up at him, completely at a loss, he must have seen it on your face as he rolled his eyes dramatically. 

“This is the part where you take my arm, darling.”

“But… I… wh--”

“Oh, just do it, would you,” Loki muttered. It was supposed to sound annoyed, but you weren’t fooled. “You’re about to walk through Asgard with a prince. This is how we do things. It’s just a formality.”

“Really?” You skeptically replied as you laid your hand in the crook of his bent elbow. “Because it feels like you’ve just asked me to marry you or something.”

“Please,” Loki scoffed as the two of you headed for the steps. 

“Hey! What, am I that bad?” 

“No,” Loki quickly insisted, eyes widening slightly in what you assumed was internal panic. “That’s not what I meant, I just… oh, I don’t know, I…”

“Okay,” you reassured him, moving closer so you could nudge your arm against his. “Don’t hurt yourself. It’s no big deal.”

“Hmm,” he sighed, but there was relief hidden behind his defensiveness. You could tell. 

Rubbing his arm in a quick gesture of reassurance, he led you past the guards, who gave friendly nods -- which Loki did not reciprocate, so you had to do enough for the both of you -- and out into the streets of Asgard. 

You noticed an immediate switch. One might have thought he looked especially disinterested, maybe even relaxed, but you could feel how tense he was. His eyes wandered building to building, scanning down every alleyway, peering into every hidden nook. It was like he was certain that someone was after him. 

You couldn’t understand, as you’d just passed through here yesterday and everyone had seemed friendly enough. But you supposed that, for Loki, it was different. He did have a bit of a reputation in Asgard. Why hadn’t you considered that before? With as much as Earth hated him, you wondered if the people of Asgard also had some conflicting thoughts on the prince. Or ex-prince, technically. 

It made you sad. Loki had been kind to you. Sure, you knew that he’d done some not-so-great things in the past, but it wasn't fair for him to not have somewhere he could be shown love and understanding. Everybody needed that -- even Loki, though you probably couldn’t have tortured the admission out of him if you tried.

It was unfortunate that he didn’t have a place where he could just be seen as himself in this present moment and not the person he used to be. 

Lost in your thoughts as you were, you hardly paid attention to where the god was leading you. Which was probably why you didn’t notice when the houses began to thin, or the appearance of wide open, fenced-in fields stretching in the distance.

That is until Loki stopped next to you. 

You glanced over at him first and then turned to get a look at your surroundings. You were outside the most beautiful-looking stable you’d ever seen in your life. Not that you’d seen a lot of stables, but still; this one was certainly the nicest -- probably that you’d ever see. 

“Loki…” you hesitantly started, voice already tinged with excitement. “What are we doing here?”

But he didn’t get a chance to answer before a tall, stocky woman was making her way through the double doors of the building. 

“Your Majesty,” she gave a quick, fairly informal bow before grinning up at him. “It is good to see you back. How long’s it been? Months?”

“Lady Ingunn,” Loki smiled. “I haven't the slightest. You know how time works differently on Midgard.”

“Well, no matter. It’s been too long,” she replied, and Loki gave a nod of agreement. 

Then, with a wave of her hand, she gestured for the two of you to follow her back towards the stable. 

“The horses you requested are ready for you. They’re eager to get going, I’m sure. Anyhow, they won’t be needed back until tonight. I trust you’ll take good care of them,” she passed a wink over her shoulder, and Loki smiled faintly. 

“Yes, of course. They couldn’t be in better hands,” he replied. 

You had no idea what was going on. 

You’d never seen polite Loki before, and it was certainly a sight. But you supposed that charm was Loki’s whole thing, so it shouldn’t be exactly surprising; it was just… different. You could see how Loki would be able to talk his way out of -- or into -- any situation he so desired. 

The woman -- Ingunn, as Loki had referred to her -- pulled open the wide barn doors. She took one, pushing it in the opposite direction, and you jumped to push the other. Turning back around, she smiled at you. 

“Thank you,” she nodded, then led the way into the dimly lit stable. 

The inside was roomy, with a wide aisle and big stalls lining either side. A few of them were occupied by horses, just as big as the ones you had ridden across the Bifrost, who were eating lazily or dozing off. 

In the middle of the aisle, two horses were tied to rings along the wall, elegant saddles on their backs. Immediately you noticed that one of the horses was black, much like the one you’d ridden your first night on Asgard. 

“Is that?”

“Mhm,” Loki nodded, smirking at the way your face lit up. 

“They’re all yours,” Ingunn announced, giving Loki another small bow before laying a hand on his arm. “It's nice to see you again, my Prince. If you find the time to stop by before your departure, it would bring me much joy. But until next time…”

“Goodbye, My Lady. Thank you again for your kindness,” Loki replied, giving a genuine smile and a modest bow. 

With one last fond look at him, the woman nodded to you and then turned and disappeared to the other side of the large barn. 

You had so many questions whirling around in your head. Who was that lady? Or more importantly, who was she to Loki, for him to feel so relaxed around her? You had the idea that there was a story to it, but you felt that it probably would have been a little nosy to ask. Loki would tell you if he felt like sharing -- otherwise, it wasn’t really your business. You weren't focused on your curiosity for long, however, as your attention was stolen by the two horses in front of you. 

“What’s going on?” You asked somewhat dreamily, and Loki didn’t even bother to hide his grin. 

“I thought you might like to go on a ride with me this morning, and by the look on your face it seems that I thought correctly.”

“Well that’s a little presumptuous of you, Prospero,” you chuckled. “But yes. You thought correctly.”

It would have pained you to admit it had you not been so excited. And the way that Loki’s smile deepened, you decided that maybe it hadn't been a bad thing after all. 

“Shall we?” He held out his hand, gesturing to the horses, and you nodded eagerly. 

Tip-toeing up to the black horse, you held out a hand. It lowered its muzzle, sniffing you curiously -- probably looking for treats -- and your eyes widened as you ran a finger over the silky hair along its nose. 

“It’s so soft,” you whispered. 

Loki, who had moved around the black horse and was now standing next to his mount, laughed softly. 

“Indeed. I could never get enough of that feeling as a boy. Still can’t…” He ran a hand down the other animal’s grey muzzle. 

His horse was the stark opposite of yours, pearly white. One of its eyes was black, and the other was bright blue. 

“Do they have names?” you shyly asked, suddenly feeling like a little kid. But Loki seemed more than happy to answer your question. 

“Yes, all of the animals here do. This,” he nodded to the white horse, still petting its neck. “Is Tove. It means dove, in your language.”

“I can see the resemblance,” you nodded. 

“And your friend there is Yrsa. She-bear.”

“She’s a girl?” You turned back towards your horse. For some reason, you’d assumed it was a male. You got the idea that Yrsa was laughing at your look of surprise. 

“A mare, yes,” Loki nodded. 

“What about yours?”

“Also a mare. The lads and ladies tend not to mix very well.”

You laughed at that, face breaking into a smile, and Loki watched you with a timid, amused expression. 

“You know a lot about horses?” It was half a question, half a statement. More of a ‘please, go on.’ You liked to hear Loki talk. 

“A little, perhaps,” he tilted his head, playing absentmindedly with Tove’s mane. 

“You… said that you were around them as a boy?” A hesitant question this time, not wanting to push. 

“Why don’t we get moving and then I’ll tell you all about my childhood adventures, hm?” Loki replied with a smirk. 

You quickly nodded, very excited to get started. Patting Yrsa’s neck, you turned around at the feeling of Loki growing close behind you. Leaning over your shoulder, he helped you untie the lead, handing you the reins. 

“Now,” he instructed, hovering near you. “Stay to her left, right by her shoulder, here,” he pointed to where the horse’s front leg attached to her muscular body, guiding you backward until you were standing in the correct place. 

“Mind her feet,” he added, and he watched you carefully as you led the horse forward -- feeling more confident than you would have expected. 

You knew it was probably silly, but there was something trustworthy in Yrsa’s eyes that put you at ease. Or maybe it wasn’t silly, considering this was an Asgardian horse. She could have started speaking English and you wouldn’t have been that surprised. 

Loki led you over to a sort of step-stool, which you assumed you were supposed to mount from. But when you got up onto it, with Loki holding the horse, you realized that you still couldn’t reach. 

“Um…” you wondered aloud, not exactly sure what to do. 

“Here,” said Loki softly. Releasing the reins, he laced his fingers together and held them out level with your knee. 

“Oh, are you sure, I don’t want to--”

“It’s not a bother,” Loki interjected, reading your mind. He moved his hands closer to you as if to say ‘come on, we haven’t got all day.’

“Okay,” you whispered, taking a deep breath. 

Grabbing onto the front of the saddle, you placed your left foot carefully in Loki’s palm. 

“One, two, three,” Loki sang, then hoisted you up like you weighed about as much as a sack of potatoes. 

He may have overcompensated a bit, as you nearly fell right off the other side of the horse. 

“Woah there,” he muttered, grabbing the seat of your pants and holding you still. “Apologies.”

“It’s okay,” you managed, shaking your head. You struggled to find the stirrups for a moment, and Loki watched you with a surprising amount of patience as you finally got your feet into them. Then he handed your the reins and said, 

“Would you like some pointers, or shall I leave you to it?”

“Pointers, please,” you replied. Then, with a small smile, added, “I like hearing you talk about this kind of stuff.”

Loki opened his mouth, squinting up at you like he expected you to start laughing at him or something. When you simply looked back down at him attentively, he took a quick breath. 

"Okay… Firstly, and the most important thing,” he reached out and grabbed your foot. 

“Keep your heels down. This keeps you upright in the saddle -- also very important.”

“Heels down,” you nodded, flexing your calves so your heels were pointed towards the ground. 

“Good. Now, sit up nice and tall, shoulders back,” he reached out, laying a hand on the shoulder closest to him, and you pushed them back. 

“Don’t stiffen up, though. Relax, you want to be able to move with the horse’s stride, otherwise you’ll bounce right off.”

“Right, okay.” You tried to relax, brow furrowing. This was a lot to keep track of. 

A corner of Loki’s mouth bunched. 

“You’re adorable when you concentrate.”

“Hey, I’m trying,” you laughed, suddenly very aware of what your face was doing. 

“Yes I know, darling, I can see that,” Loki replied, and you felt heat creep up your neck. 

A moment later, he was leading Tove out, swinging up onto her back and settling elegantly into the saddle. Immediately, the horse began to move, prancing slightly, though Loki seemed perfectly relaxed. 

“Alright,” he continued. “How do you feel? Good?”

You nodded.

“Okay. Don’t go anywhere.”  He held up a hand, then spun around and headed for the barn. 

“Now, horses are taught to move away from pressure. You can use your reins to steer, but also your legs and hips.”

As if to demonstrate, Trove began to move sideways without Loki even touching the reins. 

“How’d you do that?” You gaped. 

“Applied pressure with my left leg, got her to go right. Simple.”

You weren’t so sure it was as simple as he thought it was. Maybe for him. 

“You’re really good at this, aren’t you?” You mused, smiling almost proudly.

“Yes. Yes I am,” he grinned, leaning closer to you with a cocky wink. But then his teasing demeanor fell, and he gave you a very intentional look. 

“Just… you be careful. Everyone knows that mortals are notoriously fragile and I’d prefer you not get hurt. Especially on my watch.”

His concern for you made your insides fill with warmth, which escaped through a fond smile that nearly made your cheeks ache. 

“I will. Thank you, Loki.”

The god’s nose wrinkled. 

“Well don’t thank me, I haven’t done anything.”

“No, I know. It’s just nice, you thinking of me.”

Somehow, his face screwed up even more. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. Come on.” To get out of the conversation, he spurred his horse forward into a quick trot. 

“Hey, not fair, asshole! -- He’s a hot mess,” you muttered to Yrsa, and she bobbed her head, which made you jump. “Okay, if you can understand me, I just want you to know that I have no clue what I’m doing, so please be gentle.”

Giving her a hesitant little tap with your heels, she began walking forward. Loki had made it halfway down the barren street already and had spun around, waiting for you to catch up. As much of a show as he had put on, it was obvious he didn’t intend to leave you floundering -- even if he was much better than you at all of this. Or perhaps because he was. 

Still not feeling confident but figuring it was now or never, you kicked the mare’s sides again. She started off at a slow trot, which gradually grew in stride. As you caught up to Loki, he spun his horse around. 

“Here comes the fun part,” he called, and then he gave his horse a kick. Tove took off at a brisk canter. 

“Shit, fuck -- alright Yrsa, I’m trusting you…”

You kicked the mare’s sides, and she jumped forward. Yelping, you grabbed onto the saddle as she began to gallop after Tove and Loki. But once again, you quickly found yourself settling into the stride, and by the time you caught up to Loki, you had both hands on the reins and were leaning into the lope. 

Flashing you a smile as you entered his peripheral, Loki gave you a little wave. You waved back, perhaps a bit less elegantly, and he yelled for you to follow him. Nodding, you got to test out your steering abilities as Loki turned his mare towards the right, heading towards a wide-open field. 

Tugging your right rein, you squeezed your legs and sure enough, Yrsa followed your lead. Or maybe she was just following her friend. Either way, you were glad to have such a smart horse taking care of you. 

Breaking out onto the grass, you felt the horse’s muscles work beneath you as she tore up a small incline. Sitting tall as Loki had instructed, you had to remind yourself to keep your heels down and relax your body. It really was a lot to keep track of, but you hadn’t fallen off yet, so that was something at least. 

The incline quickly leveled out, and you guided your horse next to Loki’s. The two mares seemed content to travel side by side, and the pace was comfortable enough that you could catch a glimpse of your surroundings.  

The sun was just beginning to break over the horizon, setting the meadow in a gilded glow. The ground was fairly barren, and from what you could tell from the blur of plant life, it all seemed dry. 

A few trees sprung up here and there, and you even passed a large stone cave at the base of a hill. About ten minutes into your ride, you saw a large black blob in the distance. Not long after, the blob began to grow until you could make out the trunks of trees. It was a forest. 

Loki waited until reaching the edge before reining his horse back. You followed, wondering how the animals had been able to run for so long without breaking a sweat. Was that an Asgardian thing or just a horse thing? You had no clue. 

Pulling up next to Loki, you sat in silence for a moment, the both of you catching your breath and getting your bearings. Just like last time, now that the adrenaline had left you felt your limbs trembling slightly -- though this time it was more from the physical exertion than anxiety. 

“That was… amazing,” you laughed breathily and gave Yrsa a pat on her neck. 

Loki hummed, smiling to himself. 

“We’ll take it slower through here,” he gestured to the woods.

“Wait, we’re going in there?”

“Of course,” was his reply, and without further explanation, he nudged Tove forward. The mare began picking her way along the forest floor. 

“Is that safe? For the horses, I mean?” They seemed way too big to be weaving through trees and worrying about where they were stepping. 

“Yes. They’re bred for this sort of thing, despite their size. These girls are especially careful, so we’re in good hands. Well, good hooves….”

“Was that,” your mouth fell open, torn between disbelief and delight. “Oh my god, was that a joke? That was absolutely awful, I’m so proud of you.”

You laughed as Loki threw a glare over his shoulder. But despite the grumpy front he was attempting to put up, he reined his horse back so that you could catch up before continuing forward. 

“Careful, mortal. You test my patience.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, raising your chin skeptically. “See, I feel like if that were true, you wouldn’t keep spending so much time with me.”

Loki fell silent, then, pretending to study something off in the distance. 

“I’m glad you do.”

“What?” he turned to look at you, his eyebrows tilted in anticipation. 

“That you keep spending time with me. I’ve had a lot of fun, doing stuff with you.”

Loki stared at you, brow drawing further together with an expression of honest confusion. 

“You have?” He mused. 

“Yeah. I have." 

“Hm…” He looked away, seeming to get lost in his own thoughts. 

You let the silence hang for a little while, enjoying the quiet sounds of the forest and the horses making their way between the trees. Morning sunlight was pouring through the branches, lighting the leaves up in a glowing green. You craned your neck up, taking a deep breath of the cool forest air. 

“So,” you eventually began. “Pretty sure you owe me a story about your childhood adventures.”

Snapping out of his daze, Loki raised his eyebrows and gave a somewhat pained smile. 

“Do you really want to hear about that?” 

“You know, I think you’re the first person to ever say that to me,” he muttered, smirking.

You nodded adamantly. You really, really did. “I told you, I like hearing you talk.”

You couldn’t help but wonder if that was because he talked to you differently than most people because otherwise, you weren’t sure how everyone didn’t find Loki interesting. Didn’t like hearing him talk about Shakespeare or his boyhood adventures as a fairy prince.

Yeah, you were going to guess that he didn’t go around telling people that sort of stuff. Why he’d told you, you still weren’t sure. But you were glad that he had. 

“Alright, what do you want to know?”

“I’m an open book.”

Your arched an eyebrow. “Really?”

“You are far from an open book, but alright…” you thought, fiddling with your reins. “Okay, what about that woman at the stables? Who was she?”

Loki shifted in his saddle, and you wondered if somehow you had already asked the wrong question. 

“She was a friend of my mother,” he replied, his voice sounding distant and bittersweet. “The two of us, my mother and I, used to go on rides sometimes when she could get out of her queenly duties. Ingunn has been running the stables since I was a baby.”

You nodded thoughtfully. 

“So you used to ride a lot as a child, then?”

Loki nodded. 

“I loved being around the horses. When you’re small, they seem so… powerful yet gentle. I felt like myself around them, like I didn’t need to pretend or be someone -- I could just be who I was, without any effort.” He trailed off. You didn’t interrupt the silence, and a few moments later, he continued. 

“Ingunn would let me sneak into the stables. My father never wanted me to spend time there -- outside of my training, of course. He felt that it was a waste of time. And my mother… she just didn’t want me out riding alone for fear I’d hurt myself. And I did,” he chuckled. “Many times, so I suppose she was right. But of course, I didn’t listen.”

“Of course not,” you laughed softly. “So… what would you do, when you were disobeying your parents?”

This made Loki laugh. 

“You’ll have to be more specific, my dear,” he teased. “In this instance, of which there are many others, I would steal a horse and ride through the woods much like we’re doing now.”

“But, it wasn’t technically stealing, right? If Ingunn helped you do it.”

“I suppose not,” he smirked. “But to me, it felt like stealing. I liked to pretend I was a runaway from the palace, escaping my old life in search of a new one….” a faraway look captured his face, making his sharp features look delicate and breakable in a way that made your heart twist. 

But he shook his head and moved past it, and so you tried to as well. 

“Tove here was my partner in crime,” he patted the mare’s neck. 

“You mean, you rode her as a boy?” you asked in disbelief. “How old would that make her?” 

“Much older than you,” Loki mischievously replied. “These horses can live for hundreds, even thousands of years, unlike your Midgardian species.” He tilted his head, frowning. “It was one of the things that I found quite sad about Midgard. It’s a shame that your horses only have a few decades at best.”

Now that was interesting; Loki admitting that he’d found something sad about Midgard, and to have it be something as small as the lifespan of horses, especially when all you’d heard from him was contempt for Earth and its inhabitants… 

It had your mind reeling. 

“My mother first taught me how to ride on this horse,” Loki continued, and you shook your head to focus. 

“That’s nice,” you smiled, and Loki glanced up at you with a thoughtful expression. 

The silence returned, but it was comfortable, and you both settled into it like it was the most natural thing to occur. Barely half an hour had passed before the trees started to thin. 

Breaking out into a clearing, you looked around, suddenly feeling something familiar about this place. 

“Hey,” you spoke up. “This is the meadow. That’s the tree.” You pointed off into the distance, where the tree you and Loki had read under sat, looking like a little toy in the distance. 

“Yes, very good, “ Loki sarcastically replied. You’d just been about to tell him he shouldn't be so mean when you noticed the very intense gleam in his eye. 

“What?” you asked, voice dripping with apprehension. 

“Want to race?” He wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Uh… I don’t know. Feels like you might have the upper hand on this one,” you replied, matching his sarcasm. 

“Well, that’s nothing new. Come on, let’s do it. Loser has to… tell an embarrassing story about themselves.”

“What are you, twelve?” You snorted. 

“You’re just stalling ‘cause you know I’ll win.”

“Yeah,” you confidently replied. “I do.”

“Oh come on, I’ll go easy on you.”

There seemed to be no getting out of this one. When Loki wanted something, he usually got it. You didn’t need to have known him long to know that. 

“Okay, fine,” you groaned, and Loki lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. 

“Wonderful. On the count of three?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” you replied, feeling a flutter of anxiety, even though you were actively trying to keep the smile off of your face. 

“One.” You shifted in the saddle. 

“Two.” Heels down. 

“Three!” 

You kicked Yrsa in the side, and she lunged forward, taking off so quickly that you had to grab onto the saddle for support. Leaning into her strides, you urged her forward as Loki and Tove entered your peripheral.

 The white horse’s neck was stretched out, legs pounding against the dirt as she began to pass you. Loki, looking princely as ever, was grinning like the devil, his hair furling wildly around his head. 

You weren’t surprised when they passed you, and though you could feel Yrsa trying to keep up, you also got the idea that she was holding back, probably for your own sake. You couldn't fault her for taking care of you, so you decided to sit back and enjoy the ride. 

Loki reached the tree first, spinning in a circle to look back at you. The mare stood at attention, nostrils flaring and ears pricked as she watched the two of you catch up. Pulling back on the reins, you sat tall as Yrsa came to a steady stop, sidestepping slightly before reaching forward to sniff Tove’s muzzle. 

The horses greeted each other, and Loki grinned at you as he swept the hair back from his face. 

“I win,” he smugly announced. 

“I gathered,” you replied, not even bothering to pretend to be annoyed. You were having too much fun. 

“You owe me an embarrassing story.”

“Right,” you rolled your eyes. “Give me a minute to catch my breath, will you?”

“Oh alright."

Standing up, he swung his leg around and dismounted so gracefully that you were already cringing at the thought of trying to get off your own horse. This was probably going to go as well as last time. 

As if he’d had the same thought, Loki came to stand beside you and asked, 

“Are your legs working this time, do you think?”

You chuckled nervously.

“Probably not.”

Loki nodded like he’d suspected as much. 

“Well then, good thing you have me.”

“Yeah…” As you tried to figure out the least embarrassing way you could get off of this horse, you weren’t so sure that was true. If you were going to be falling on your ass, you’d much rather do so when no one else was around. 

“Ok,” you began, trying to get your bearings. “Here goes…”

You stood up in the saddle, swinging your right leg behind you and then holding on for dear life as you wrestled your left leg out of the stirrup. Dangling now, you felt Loki’s hands close around your waist a moment before you let go of the saddle. 

He helped lessen the blow of your feet hitting the ground. Unfortunately, you hadn’t anticipated that ground to be so uneven. As soon as you made contact, it was like someone had taken you out at the kneecaps. You completely lost your balance, falling back into Loki. 

“Goddammit,” you grumbled, not even bothering to right yourself as Loki wrapped his arms around your waist. “I was trying to avoid this happening again.”

“What, you winding up in my arms?” Loki purred, leaning over your shoulder. You could practically feel the shit-eating grin on his face. 

“Exactly,” you replied, struggling out of his hold. 

Despite your less than graceful dismount, your legs didn’t feel quite as wobbly as before, and you were able to stand on your own without face planting. 

“Urg, my ass,” you grumbled, reaching back to rub your upper thigh, where you were fairly certain a bruise was forming. 

“Well, it is an excellent ass…”

“Shut up,” you managed, leaning sideways to shove him in the chest. Annoyingly, he barely moved an inch, and you had to stop yourself from tackling him, figuring that the outcome probably wouldn’t be in your favor. 

“What? I’m only speaking the truth,” Loki argued, and you rolled your eyes, trying not to combust on the spot. You absolutely would not give him the satisfaction.

“You’re such a dork.”

“Mm,” he hummed, tilting his head. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me that before.”

“Well it’s true." Then, glancing around at the horses, you propped a hand on your hip. “So, what do we do now?”

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Loki began to instruct you on how to untack a horse, which was a combination of variables that you never thought you would encounter.

You got the idea that the god was sparing you a lot of details, only going through the very basics, but you still felt a little lost. There were so many names for all the intricate pieces of the saddle and straps that soon your head was spinning. 

“So then you just tuck the girth up here,” Loki hooked it around a metal loop at the base of the saddle so it was out of the way. “And now you’re ready to take it off.”

You glanced up at the large saddle, which was quite literally above your head, considering the height of the horse. Yrsa, who hadn’t moved an inch during this whole ordeal, looked down at you with much patience, but admittedly, not a lot of confidence. Great, even your horse knew you had no clue what you were doing. 

Stretching on your tip-toes, you reached as high as you could and began to tug on the saddle, trying to lift the heavy equipment. 

“Lift it up, don’t pull sideways -- we don’t want to hurt her back.”

“I’m trying,” you grunted, arms beginning to shake. “I… can’t,” you gave up with a huff, falling back a step. “She’s just too tall. No offense,” you patted Yrsa’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I’m fairly certain she’s not offended,” Loki dryly commented. “No matter. This saddle is probably as heavy as you, anyway.”

You were about to ask him why the hell he’d had you try and take it off, then, when suddenly he reached forward and picked it up like it was made of cardboard. 

“You dick,” you muttered, then laughed as he gave you an offended look. 

“All this name-calling -- you’re lucky I like you, Mouse.”

Even though he was joking, you knew he was right. You were lucky he liked you. 

“I’m just teasing,” you smirked, wanting to clarify even though it probably wasn’t needed. “And I like you, too, so…”

“Yes… which is almost as peculiar as me liking you.” He shook his head, eyebrows furrowing with befuddlement. 

“Well then… we’re just perfect for each other, I guess. Like Jane and Rochester -- two disagreeable people who become slightly more agreeable around each other.” 

The wrinkle between Loki’s eyebrows deepened. 

“I hope I’m not nearly as unkind to you as Rochester was to Jane,” he replied as he carefully removed Yrsa’s bridle. 

“Loki,” you gently insisted. “How many times do we have to go over this: Rochester loved Jane, he just had some shit to work through. And he wasn’t that horrible.”

“No, you’re wrong. He was very horrible. A total dick.”

You had to take a moment to recover from that sentence just coming out of Loki’s mouth. 

“Okay,” you eventually persisted. “Well, I don’t think you’re a dick.”

“You just called me a dick moments ago,” Loki pointed like it would draw your attention to the past. 

“I know. I guess I was just being a dick.”

“This is exhausting.”

“You’re right,” you laughed, scrunching your nose. “This is kind of absurd.”

“I like when you do that,” Loki suddenly murmured, and it took you a moment to register that he’d even said anything at all. By the time you had, he’d turned his back to you and was busy untacking Tove. 

“What?” You asked. Loki didn’t move. “You like when I do what, Loki?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing.”

You take it back: he really was a dick. Even so, you couldn't help but like him.

You watched his back as he untacked his horse, propping the saddle up next to yours. The second he took the mare’s bridle off, both animals began to make their way across the meadow, heads low as they grazed on the lush grass. 

“What if they run off?” You asked, worried about losing them. 

“They won’t go far,” he assured you. 

Content with believing him, you followed Loki over to the tree. A blanket appeared next to the trunk, and he held out a hand to help you sit -- he may be a dick, but he was still a gentleman -- before following, leaning back against the trunk with a sigh. 

The air was starting to warm up, and the sun was creeping its way along the sky. A breeze cooled your skin, but the sunlight kept you from feeling cold. Birds chirped brightly, their songs filling the air, and the grass swayed peacefully. 

It was the closest thing to a perfect day that you could imagine, and you smiled as you turned your face up to the sun, eyes closing blissfully. 

“Mm, it’s so beautiful,” you hummed, your smile deepening. 

“Yes,” Loki softly agreed. 

Glancing over at him, grinning vaguely at how peculiar he was being, you rummaged through your bag, intending to find your book. Instead, you found the apple that you’d thrown inside yesterday morning. 

“I completely forgot about this,” you muttered, pulling it out and making a mental note to split it with the horses later.

“Mm. You know what else you forgot about?” Loki arched an eyebrow. “I believe an embarrassing story is due.”

“Really?” You groaned, rolling your eyes. 

“Uh-huh,” Loki insisted, laughing softly at your dramatic reaction. 

“Uhh, okay, let me think…” Playing with your lower lip, you tried to think back to anything particularly embarrassing that stood out from your childhood. 

It shouldn't have taken very long, but being put on the spot was making your mind go blank.

“Alright… So this one time when I was really little -- like seven or eight, maybe -- my mom and I were at the store. She was doing her shopping and stuff, and told me to wait by the cereal so she could go find something on her list.”

You were surprised to find Loki watching you very attentively, nodding every so often as you spoke. It was kind of adorable. 

“Anyway, so I waited for what felt like an eternity to my little kid brain, and I was getting pretty antsy when all of the sudden, across the aisle, I thought I saw my mom, right? So I run up to her and wrap my arms around her legs, but then the lady looks down and I realize that I’ve just grabbed the legs of a complete stranger. 

And then suddenly there’s my mom yanking me off this woman and being all like ‘what the hell are you doing, I told you to stay put!’ Honestly, she probably made more of a scene than I did. I dunno,” you shrugged. “Don’t really remember much after that, but I guess it was embarrassing since I remember it at all.”

“You were just a child. Your mother shouldn’t have left you.” 

“Yeah, well… she was pretty good at that,” you muttered, laughing joylessly. “But I shouldn’t shit on her. She tried her best, I guess.”

It must have been obvious that you weren’t very convinced because Loki’s face contorted in a rare moment of unconcealed concern. 

“My father,” he hesitantly began, turning to stare out across the meadow where the horses were grazing so he didn’t have to meet your eye. 

“He was… physically present. At least, I always knew where to find him. But yet, I felt like I couldn’t. I would walk into a room and there he’d sit, but he always felt so far away and… lost to me. Mmm.” he shook his head, raising his eyebrows like he’d just come to. 

You tried to imagine young Loki searching for Odin’s love. His affection. His approval. You remembered your own childhood, moments spent wondering when your mother would come home, worried that she wouldn’t. Wondering if you’d done something to push her away. 

“Parents, huh?” You whispered, picking at a frayed thread on your jeans. You’d probably have a hole, soon. 

Loki nodded once, his mouth forming a thin line. 

“Parents."

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be a bummer,” you shyly admitted.

“You’re not a bummer,” Loki insisted, and it was the first time he’d looked you in the eyes since the both of you had sat down. 

“T… Thanks,” you whispered, getting lost in those deep green eyes. There was such complexity to them, such depth, you felt them stealing your breath away. You were certain that you could stare into them for the rest of eternity and you wouldn't even have a chance at seeing all they had to offer. 

“You’re welcome,” Loki breathed, eyebrows drawing together ever so slightly as his eyes searched yours. Then he shook his head. 

“Strange,” he whispered, almost an afterthought. 

“What?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head again, then cleared his throat. “Uhm… so, what would you like to do today?”

You found the question oddly sweet. There really wasn’t a reason for you and Loki to spend time together, but the god seemed to have decided that you would be, as if it were the only natural thing. It felt like a great honor -- like when a feral cat decides to sit on your lap; something that doesn’t happen often and to very few people. 

“I don’t know. Any suggestions?”

“Mmm,” Loki hummed, playing with his fingers as he thought. “Well, I suppose that depends. Do you want more touristy things, or something a little bit… niche?”

You wrinkled your nose. 

“Not sure I’m in the mood for touristy,” you admitted, and Loki didn’t seem surprised. 

“There’s a lovely bit of forest not far from here. It’s one of the oldest in the area if you’re up for the walk.”

“Yeah, sure,” you grinned, hopping up excitedly. “I love a good forest.”

Loki looked up, narrowing his eyes at you. 

“Oh, shit -- that wasn’t sarcasm, I swear.”

“No, I know,” he replied, shifting so he could stand, but not before you reached down and offered him a hand. 

You weren’t sure why you did it -- it seemed kind of absurd now that you were -- but it just felt… right. 

Giving you a look that was half insulted, half bemused, Loki accepted your hand. His skin felt cold against your own, and if that wasn’t reminder enough, when you tried to haul him to his feet you were once again made aware of his frost giant origin. 

It was like trying to lift a boulder. 

“Dang,” you muttered, stumbling back a little as he stood on his own. The hand still firmly gripping yours was the only thing that kept you from falling on your ass. 

Loki chuckled, a low rumble in his throat, and then pulled you up and propped a solid hand on your arm as if was trying to stick your feet to the ground. 

“We really do need to work on your mobility, love,” he smirked, and you tried to stop your brain from frying at what he'd just called you.

“Well… I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to give me some pointers during our walk."

“Hm,” Loki spun you around and let his hand fall onto your back. “Let’s start with one foot in front of the other, shall we? See how things go from there." 

“Ha ha,” you humorlessly laughed, while also making a very conscious effort not to trip. You’d never be able to live that down. 

“Norns, you’re actually having to focus, aren’t you?” Loki suddenly spoke. The amused grin on his face should have made you feel defensive, but it didn’t. Maybe because his eyes were so soft, and his smile was so genuine. 

“Shut up,” you muttered, smiling yourself. “I can usually walk just fine, but you make me nervous.”

“I make you nervous? Why?” His brow narrowed in that worried way again. You wished he'd stop looking at you like that.  

“Um, well first of all,” you waved a hand, gesturing to… everything about him. He leaned his head back indignantly. 

“And second, it’s your fault that I keep winding up in situations where my legs stop working, so.”

Loki hummed suggestively, and you immediately regretted the life choices that had led you to this moment.   

“Well, you’ve hardly experienced the pleasures of my full treatment. I could show you sometime if you’d like,” he leaned into your shoulder, clasping his hands behind his back. 

“Gross,” you snorted, shoving him in the side. He feigned an insulted gasp. 

“How dare you -- do you know how many mortals would kill for a chance with me?”

“And here you are, offering it up so casually.”

“That’s only because I knew you’d say no,” he argued.

“Oh really? And what if I change my mind?”

Lord have mercy, what the hell did you think you were doing?

“Well… then…” you nearly fell over from the sole fact that Loki was now slightly flustered, not to mention at a loss for words. But of course, not for long. 

“Then I would severely question your state of mind, and ask you if you were feeling alright?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that pickup line before, did you come up with it yourself?”

“Ha,” Loki sarcastically scoffed. “You’re funny. For a mortal…”

“And you’re just oh-so-charming. For a god…”

“I should hope so, darling,” he drawled, sliding his hands into the pockets of his trousers. 

Then, in an almost fidgety manner, he pulled a hand back out, reaching sideways and picking a purple flower from the high grass that you were walking through. Twirling it between his thumb and pointer finger, he held it out to you, eyes trained in front of him. 

You tilted your head, chest fluttering at the simple gesture. While you’d made a joke of it, he really was sickeningly charming when he wanted to be. It made you feel equally fond as it did cautious. You’d never known how to act around overly flirtatious people. 

But while those you’d encountered back on Earth had usually made you uncomfortable, Loki’s flirting was different. It never made you feel pressured or like you were in any danger. It was just… something he did, and it didn't really have much of an effect on you. 

His thing with flowers, though…. 

Maybe that had a bit of an effect. You just found it very sweet -- such a simple, old-fashioned gesture. It was nice. 

So, grinning like a fool, you carefully took the flower from his hand. Twirling it gently, you admired the little purple and white petals, delicate and, if you looked close enough, almost sparkling in that way that flower petals could in the right light. 

“Thank you,” you replied, voice soft with genuine gratitude. Loki looked up, staring at you for a minute before shaking his head, brushing away your thanks with a shy smile. 

He had so many different smiles to him. They were almost as numerous as the flowers in the meadow, swaying lazily among the big blades of grass. There were showy smiles, ones that he seemed to use when he wanted something. And then there were his fake smiles, extra big and especially charming. 

But he also had little smiles, ones that were soft and hesitant, almost awkward with how unfamiliar they were, like he was trying them out just to see what happened when he did. You wished everyone had the chance to see one of these smiles. You wished he found a reason to try them on more often. 

It was sad, the way that you’d seen so much of Loki already, and you’d only just been kind to him. Not even more than you would have to any other stranger. But that simple act of politeness, the genuine desire to be nice to him, had been enough to get him smiling like he was right now, fingers trailing through the knee-high grass and face turned towards the sunlight. 

How cold must his life have been for such simple things to coax him out of whatever tower he had hidden his heart away in? How cruel had people been that the extension of friendship was such a shock, such an unfamiliarity that it had him opening up like a flower in the sun within just a few days?

It made you wonder what kind of person he could be if people would actually let him. 

“All this thinking you do,” Loki murmured, his voice so soft that you nearly missed it over the sound of the breeze. You couldn’t, however, miss the undeniable affection within it. 

“Sorry, am I being loud again?” You whispered, staring down at the flower in your hand. 

“No. I mean, yes, but please -- don’t apologize.”

Glancing up, you had just opened your mouth to reply when Loki beat you to it. 

“I think we’re here. Look,” he pointed towards the forest to your left. 

You’d been walking along the edge of it for some time now, and from what you could tell, it was densely packed, almost like a fence. But, looking where the god was pointing, you could see a circular entrance formed by the winding curve of branches. It looked like a doorway. 

Loki led you towards it. Leaning inside, he observed a moment before stepping in and holding out a hand. 

“My Lady,” he offered, and you exhaled a quick laugh at the formality. Still, you took his hand and followed him inside.

***

Taglist: ((let me know if you would like to be added!!))  @itsamedeemonee ​ @mischief2sarawr @sabxism @princess-ofthe-pages @80strashbag @7minutes-tomidnight @lokischambermaid  @gayassfuckinghomo

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki x female reader #loki fluff #loki fanfic #ao3 link #loki and reader #loki and you #loki x y/n #loki #loki laufeyson

[sonickedtrowel]

Young!11/River kissing for a bet pls (extra points for featuring Amy and Rory) 💕

Omg Anon I thought this ask was lost to the sands of time but it's still here and if you are too, well, you're in luck!! (ao3 link)

“Tell me you saw that,” said Amy.

“You’ll have to be a bit more specific,” Rory replied.  “I’ve seen a lot of things today, and I’m pretty sure I can’t remember half of them.”

“River and the Doctor!  They are obviously shagging, right?”

“Do I really have to think about this?” Rory whinged.  “I’ve got enough of a headache from all the alien memory erasure.”

“Come on.  There’s no way you didn’t notice.”

“I, uh, did get that impression,” he reluctantly admitted.  “I’m just not sure he knows it yet.”  Amy snorted.  “River said something to me, back when this all started.  From her point of view, it’s... like he’s slowly forgetting her.”

“That’s horrible,” Amy said softly.

“Yeah.  I wanted to say something helpful, you know?  She can be a bit scary, but it’s obvious how this hurts her.  But I don’t think there’s really anything to be done.  Whenever he does work it out, it’ll already be in her past.”

“Poor River,” said Amy.  “The Doctor’s a complete moron about this stuff.  A big, genius, stupid moron.  And even we needed a little shove.  If Mels hadn’t said anything, who knows how long it would have taken us—”

The sonic whirred, and the tiny red bulb flashing amongst the instruments on the TARDIS console blinked out.  The live feed went silent.  

Alone with the humming of the time rotor again, the Doctor slumped over the console.

Well, fine, maybe he was a moron.  But it wasn’t as if anything about this was easy.  It hadn’t been easy when she died before his eyes, telling him not to dare change one line of their life together that he’d yet to live.  It hadn’t been easy trying to keep her from winding her way into his hearts— in fact, he’d failed rather spectacularly on that front, despite his best intentions.  

It wasn’t easy to begin, when he’d already seen the end.  When he couldn’t change her future because it was already his past.  Wasn’t it all set in stone already, then, no matter what he did?  So how did it still feel like he was making a complete mess of everything?

Maybe it was past time he started clearing up after them.

___

“I won’t lie,” River called as he emerged from the TARDIS, “I was rather hoping you’d be back.”  She was sat half-curled on her bunk, her back against the cell wall and her diary open on her lap.  “How long has it been?  A few decades?”

“Er, about half an hour?”

“Oh.”  There was a quiet brittleness to the sound, her initial bravado faltering as she laid down her pen, and the Doctor noticed for the first time the red tinge around her eyes.  “Me too,” she said softly.

River Song had never looked so uncertain.  The memory of her warmth still tingled on his lips; the blaze of joy that had spilled out of her mind and suffused every place they touched.  How quickly and utterly he’d doused that exquisite glow with a thoughtless word.  He wouldn’t dare think River fragile, but something was on the verge of breaking here, if he didn’t handle it with the proper care.

No pressure.  The Doctor took a deep breath and gripped a bar of her cell, pausing in the still-open doorway.  “I was, uh, hoping I could give that another go.”  His cheeks felt so hot there was no doubt he’d turned a very unattractive shade of tomato.

“Doctor,” she said, placating, her gaze dropping to her lap as she sat up and valiantly cobbled together a façade of composure, “you don’t have to—”

“I want to.”  He forgot how to swallow for a moment, but basically managed not to audibly choke on his own tongue.  What was worse than tomato?  Molten lava?  The distance between them was humiliating.  He couldn’t have such a mortifyingly sensitive conversation shouting across a room.  Somehow, when he forced his unreliable legs to carry him jerkily over the gulf between them, it was only a couple of steps.

The Doctor sat down on her bed.  He made sure not to think about the fact that he was sitting on her bed.  River watched him, frozen and wide-eyed.

“River, I— I want this,” he managed to wrench out.  You.  Us.  Even as he made her an offering of his pride, his tongue couldn’t seem to shape the truer words.  He desperately hoped she understood.  No, no, that wasn’t good enough.  He reached out, taking both of her cold hands in his.  “River,” he repeated, the word creaking past his lips, raspy and low.  A plea and an admission.  He was tired, so tired of fighting it.  It hadn’t worked, anyway.  He was done for.  And every time he ran away, he only hurt her more.

He lifted one hand to tuck her spectacular hair behind her ear, and her eyes fluttered ever-so-briefly shut.  She still hadn’t moved; she seemed almost afraid to breathe.  Miscalculating their relationship like that must have been shockingly painful for her.  She’d reached out to touch him and been burned.  The urge to reassure her gave him courage enough to speak again, but god knew what was going to come out of his mouth when he did.

“River,” he muttered again, maybe just because he’d always loved the way her name felt on his tongue.  He brushed the backs of his fingers feather-light over her face, then his hand slowly lowered, hovering hesitant between them.  “Can I…”

“Yes,” she said, though it came out as a breath without sound, and she cleared her throat.  “You can touch me.”

Her whispered words sent a startling spike of heat through him, and almost before the Doctor knew it he was kissing her, slowly; scarcely moving but to lean in and cradle her face in his hands.  He did his best to take in the little details: the slight friction of her lips sliding soft against his, the stifled whimper she exhaled over his cheek.  He pulled back just enough for a shared breath to warm the air between them, for his nose to brush hers, then kissed her again.  When he dared to trace over her lower lip with his tongue, she sighed contentedly as her lips parted.  Surely it had been this lovely before, too, but the shock had gotten the better of him.  Now he felt he could just melt into her; forget everything in the universe but how good it was to finally let himself love her.

She’d been generous with her permission, so he didn’t hesitate to slip an arm around her back and pull her closer.  The warm, solid shape of her under his hands, pressed to his chest, was intoxicating.  It was baffling.  He was a fairly indiscriminate hugger, but he’d always been too terrified to touch River like that— maybe afraid once he started, he’d never stop.  And good job he hadn’t, because this was not what it was normally like.  This was… bigger.  And the more he kissed her; the more he leant over her for a better angle and his palms pressed into her back and she shifted her body beneath him, making a ragged, desperate little noise in her throat; the more he realised this was very quickly becoming something he hadn’t exactly planned on.  Of course, he could stop any time.  River was following his lead, accepting whatever he offered but making no demands of her own.  That didn’t seem fair.  She deserved so much better than he’d given her.

“You’re, uh.  Sure I can’t convince you to come with me?” he muttered in her ear, and he actually felt her shiver.  Mental note of that, check.

“I really shouldn’t…” she whispered, but the ellipsis was audible, hanging in the air between them.

“I’ll have you back before they miss you.  And, ah, Amy and Rory have gone to bed.”  Not that he was implying they were going to require privacy, or anything— no, actually, maybe that was exactly what he was saying.  Thankfully not aloud, although somehow he felt like River knew just what he was thinking anyway.

“Hang on,” she said, squinting off into the near distance with a frown, “I’m just figuring out how weird something is.”

“Um, okay.”

“Mm, decided I don’t care.  Let’s go.”

__

Sneaking River out of prison (which surely shouldn’t have been so easy to do— what kind of operation were they running, anyway?) and into the darkened TARDIS console room made the Doctor feel, for some reason, positively giddy.  (It was also completely unnecessary, because it was his ship, and his companions had gone to bed, and there was also no reason she shouldn’t be there with him just like she had been an hour ago, anyway— except that it all felt very different now.)  She was holding his hand, and that was another completely mundane thing he did with friends and acquaintances every day without a second thought, but which suddenly seemed unusually intimate and warm and wonderful when it was River.  He couldn’t seem to stop giggling, which might have partly been nerves, and partly the unnecessary sneaking, but was mostly because he was, actually, ridiculously happy.  

River kept shushing him, but she was laughing too, which made him laugh more, which made her laugh and shush more and then, in a moment of wildly impulsive bravery, he backed her up against the console and kissed her.  That stifled both their giggles, as she let out a long sigh and wrapped her arms around his neck.  She really was outrageously, staggeringly, miraculously wonderful.  It was nice to just let himself think that for a moment, without five tonnes of weight attached to it; without all the shadows it cast.  Instead, just for now, he thought: They really could have been doing this all along?  He was definitely a moron.

“...and you really think this is going to work?  Challenging him to a bet?”

“Worth a shot.  Believe me, he’s a sore loser.  That’s how I got him to go to Space Florida.”

“Um, what is that?” River groaned mournfully.

“Ah, probably bumped into Amy’s nanorecorder, it was somewhere on the console,” the Doctor muttered over the dull chatter.

“Could you please shut it off?” she whinged, which seemed a bit out of character, but he obligingly fumbled one-handed over the controls for it in the dim light.  He didn’t find anything immediately, but he did crane his head to the side enough that he wound up pressed into River’s neck, and her skin was so very warm and soft under his lips as he breathed her in.  The sounds she made in response to that were even more enticing, and he forgot all about whatever it was he’d been looking for, until the echoey chatter came through again, louder:

“Oh, you should’ve seen him the first time I met River.  Before that, I sort of thought he was asexual?  But, not like a person is— like an amoeba.  But then he was trying to be grumpy with her and obviously kept coming up with horny instead.”

River burst into riotous laughter as the Doctor choked on air, searching frantically along the console for the stupid bloody little lightbulb — but then River hopped up onto the console and wrapped her legs around him, beaming at him as she pulled him down for another kiss and, well.  A little more humiliation was really a small price to pay.

“Oh, no.  Um, retreat.  Retreat!”  Rory was urgently whispering, but it didn’t sound as faint as it had before.

“What?  Is that— oh my god!” Amy shrieked.

Reluctantly, the Doctor pulled back from River, breathless and blushing, and almost immediately locked eyes across the console room with Amy.  Who was not talking to Rory in their room, but instead standing beside him in the corridor entrance, looking scandalised and delighted whilst he very deliberately averted his eyes.

“They do not need our help, clearly,” Rory said, trying to tug her away, but Amy whooped and cheered instead of following.

River covered her mouth, shaking with laughter.  

The Doctor sighed heavily, mustered up the few remaining crumbs of his dignity, and commanded, “Ponds, out!”

“Right on the console, Doctor, really!” Amy shouted back, grinning wickedly.  “Well done, River!”

“Out!” he repeated, a bit more desperately.  Amy’s boisterous laughter finally started to fade away down the corridor as he groaned and buried his burning face in River’s shoulder.

“There, there, sweetie,” she said, patting his back sympathetically.  “They’ll see worse.”

“That… is really not terribly comforting, River.”

“Yeah.  You have no idea.”

#dr fic #11river #doctor/river #yes i wrote YET ANOTHER DOTM fix it #what of it #all my fics recently have been the same i dont care #no im lying i do i need to switch it up asap lol

[chaotic-super]

The Vampire Woman - 10

Read The Vampire Woman on Ao3 here!

Lena leads Kara around the lab excitedly, flitting around from place to place, barely turning around half the time to make sure she’s still behind her, still listening to what she’s saying.

“And this is something that I’m still in the early stages of, I haven’t even got around to making the prototype for it yet, but I’m hopeful.” Lena spreads the blueprints for a complicated-looking machine out across a desk for Kara to look at.

“What does it do exactly?”

“Well, If it all goes to plan, this is going to help map out damaged nerves in a person’s body and then this…” Lena pulls out a second set of blueprints, “is to help fix those nerves, or at least repair them to the best of our ability.”

Kara’s eyebrows shoot up at the sight of it, impressed and confused. She doesn’t really know what she’s looking at and all of the scientific calculations around the edges are going right over her head. “Wow, that’s impressive. It almost makes me sad that I don’t have a clue what I’m looking at.”

Jess snickers from behind her, “yeah, that’s how I feel when I look at it too, I’d move on though, if you stare for too long then you’ll get a headache.”

She leans back away from the papers, looking up to Lena to move them along to the next thing. “This is the final thing that I’ve only recently started working on. I started this as a project for myself. I’m trying to figure out how to make artificial blood.”

“Really? That’s awesome. The medical benefits that could come from that would be astronomical too, that’s incredible!” Kara’s eyes light up, already scribbling something down in her notebook. “Tell me everything.”

“It’s more of a pet project really,” Lena says, a little bashful at Kara’s reaction, shocked at the sudden outburst since she’s been nothing except quiet and respectful since she was brought down here to be shown around. “I haven’t gotten that far into it, I’m still trying to figure out how to get it to last in the body for a longer period of time. Usually, blood, when transfused, will last in the body for up to thirty-four days, all of my calculations only put the artificial blood up to last around two, maybe three days, so basically, I’m still a ways off yet.”

Kara shrugs, “I still think it’s awesome and if you’ve gotten that far already, then I’m guessing that you’re going to be able to do a good job of fixing those issues. You said transfusions though, does that mean you’re focus is on helping people who are in need of donations or is it mostly for yourself, so you have something to feed on?”

“Both really, I want to be able to use it as my main source of sustenance and use it for feeding eventually but it will never be completely sustainable because I simply can’t recreate blood to a T and it will miss vital compounds found in blood, however, I do want it to help people, that’s my main goal for all of my projects here at L-Corp. I want to make a difference.” Lena gesticulates with her hands as she talks and Kara finds her eyes drawn to them.

The movements are soft yet unpredictable, her hands making themselves into a claw shape from time to time, always facing the floor, not facing another person, each movement matching the rise and fall of her tone as she speaks. It’s intriguing to watch.

“That sounds amazing, you’ll have to keep me updated on that one. I think this might just be the thing I need to pitch to Ms Grant for my article, she’ll love it. Is that alright with you?”

Lena and Jess share a look, mutually deciding on whether or not they should try and spin Kara towards something different but really it’s as good as any of the things they’ve been working on. “Go ahead. It might spur me to dedicate a little bit more of my time towards it.” Lena smiles.

Jess scoffs. “Please, you spend all of your free time down here as it is.”

“I sleep because I want to most of the time, not because I need to, I can just skip out every now and again.” Lena counters.

Kara’s head rears up in shock. “You don’t have to sleep? I never asked you about that before.”

“No, not really. I can get by on about twenty hours of sleep per week, a lot less than your average human. I still usually try and sleep for a few hours every day, usually in the morning after the sun rises, but it’s unnecessary really so if I want to spend more time down in the lab, it’s a simple thing to sacrifice.”

Shaking her head, Kara brings a hand up to gently scratch the side of her face. “You couldn’t pay me to give up on my sleep, I get really cranky when it gets disrupted, something you’ve now witnessed first-hand, although I did also have a good reason for it alongside that one.”

“We don’t hold anything against you, everything you did was completely understandable.” Lena offers up, guilt creeping back up inside of her. “However, it might serve us all well if you make sure to get your forty winks before you come in for your other interviews just to keep everyone happy, we can tell you slept well last night because you’ve been nothing but pleasant.”

“I’ll have you know that I am always pleasant where possible and I was even voted ‘biggest sweetheart’ my senior year of high school.” Kara jests back, glad that the atmosphere is light and there isn’t a growing storm cloud overhead like there was the last time she was here.

“Of course you were, I could have actually guessed that because those garlic cloves you threw at me were whispering all of your secrets to me, each strike was telling me how gentle and kind you are.” Lena laughs at her own joke while Kara and Jess watch on, mildly amused by her finding herself so funny.

Jess begins to take them over to another part of the lab, purposely bumping Lena as she goes. “You have a weird sense of humour.”

“I know, it’s good, isn’t it?” Lena smiles wryly.

Shaking her head, Jess begins to speak, focusing her attention on Kara instead of the vampire with weird humour. “I think you’ll like this other thing that L-Corp has been working on, it’s a little different from the other stuff we’ve shown you. While we usually stick to medical equipment and work to progress a lot of space equipment, we have also been working on something else too.”

“That sounds promising, what is it?”

Neither Lena nor Jess get the chance to answer because there’s a loud, blaring alarm cutting through the room and the light suddenly switches from the warm yellow hue into the brightest white that makes Kara squint as her eyes are forced to rapidly refocus because of it.

Her hands fly up to cover her ears and she instinctively ducks despite there being nothing in the room to physically hurt her.

It makes her feel less silly when she sees Lena do the same out of the corner of her eye but it doesn’t take her long to figure out why Lena is also suddenly so close to the floor.

She’s on her knees, palms pressed to her ears and face scrunched in pain, leaning forward so much that Kara’s worried she might actually topple over and land flat on her face.

Kara finds herself reaching out to her before her brain can catch up to her and tell her that touching a vampire that is in pain and vulnerable could be a bad idea.

Her hand falls onto Lena’s back, rubbing in what she hopes to be soothing circles. “Are you ok?”

She gets no response but that’s not at all surprising. Kara’s eyes search for Jess, hoping that the woman will have answers to the vampire-sized problem knelt on the floor but she’s somewhere off to the side of the room and she’s talking into a phone that’s attached to the wall, talking rapidly.

Kara can’t tell what she’s saying at all, the overwhelming noise of the alarm drowning out her voice and any other sounds that Kara could hear before it started going off.

Her heart is beating like crazy, her breathing picking up and panic building up inside of her, bringing on a familiar feeling that she’s praying will go away because now is not the time for a panic attack, not only because she’s in an unfamiliar place, somewhere she already doesn’t feel all that safe, but also because Lena is clearly in need of help.

Blinking rapidly and trying to focus on her own breathing, Kara still manages to push her hand atop of Lena’s hand, which has now fallen to the floor, holding her up from falling all the way down, holding tightly to not only help Lena but to ground herself too. Her eyes fall closed for a moment and then the hand beneath hers is turning beneath her own and the fingers and gripping back at hers.

“Lena?”

“It hurts.” Lena winces. “We have to move, that’s the fire alarm. I can’t go out because of the sunlight but I have a fireproof room we can get to.”

Jess finally comes over to them, the phone abandoned. “It’s real, we have to get out of here.”

“One step ahead of you, Jess,” Lena says, using Kara’s shoulder to push herself up onto her feet and then pulling on the human’s hand to pull her up. “The door down there.” She points to what appears to be a steel door leading out of the main lab space. “Hurry.”

Kara lets herself be dragged by Lena, the cool hand in her own heated one refreshing instead of frightening. She can’t help but flick her eyes around the room as she tries to figure out how much danger they are in. There’s no flames or smoke down here but they are in a place where there are a whole lot of very flammable liquids so they are not safe here anyway.

Lena grabs the handle to the door, and it clicks open quickly, the door swinging wide under her unnatural strength where any human would struggle with the weight of it.

They don’t have time to think about that though, not now. To her surprise, Lena pushes Kara and Jess into the room before her, making sure they got in first before climbing in after them and pulling the door shut, locking it with a large latch on the other side.

It’s dark inside, so much so that they can’t see a single thing. It’s a good job that they have Lena with them, her vampire eyesight much better than their own, cutting right through the darkness to find a flashlight that’s sat in the corner of the room atop of a pack of bottled waters.

She heads right over to it, squeezing past Kara in the tight space and feeling guilty when the woman jumps at the brush of her front against the human’s back. The flashlight turns on right away luckily and she’s handing it to Jess before she can even think about it.

“Sorry it’s so small, I had to install one here and one up in my office as an excuse to not have to go outside when the fire alarm goes off, besides, when there’s a lab, it’s good to have a fireproof room nearby anyway. I am regretting not ordering a bigger one to be built though.”

Kara stumbles back and presses herself against the nearest wall, closing her eyes and so badly trying to focus on her breathing instead of the tiny space she’s trapped in. She was just barely focusing with the alarm going off and the lights sending her into a panic and now it’s almost like she’s trapped in the opposite situation.

It’s dark and the walls of the room are blocking out the sound of the alarm and she’s trapped. She can’t get out and the walls are all so close to her and she’s trapped. She’s trapped.

Then there are hands at her neck, clawing and grabbing through the dark and Jess’ face, illuminated by the flashlight, can be seen across the way from her, worried and mildly terrified.

The panic keeps rising and she can’t breathe.

“I can’t-“

“Kara?” Lena’s voice fills the air, dominating and soft. A juxtaposition if there ever was one, the only word that can be used to describe the woman at this point.

Her eyes open, searching for the green eyes of her attacker.

Lena’s not the one clawing at her neck. It’s impossible, she’s beside Jess. Those are her hands. She can’t breathe and everything is surrounding her, her knees weaken and she falls to the ground, back sliding down the wall as she goes.

“I can’t breathe.” She gasps out.

Her eyes close again but there’s a body on either side of her now, pressing against her sides, and a hand on each of her knees, now pulled up to her chest.

One hand is warm, the other cold. It’s a confusing sensation, one that Kara isn’t sure she likes but she can barely force oxygen into her lungs, let alone figure out how to speak and even if she could, putting her feelings into words is impossible when all her brain is capable of saying is, ‘I can’t breathe.’

She can hear her own wheezing, her throat working hard to try and suck down the air she can’t find. Her hands find the floor, checking it’s still there, her palms rock against it, proving to herself that it’s real and that down is down meaning up is up, she’s ok.

She’s ok.

“You’re ok.” Lena’s suave voice cuts through the air. “You’re ok, everything is ok.”

“We’re right here with you, Kara,” Jess adds in from her other side. “It’s just a panic attack, you can breathe, just focus on taking big deep breaths for us.”

Kara’s brain latches onto the words, repeating each one after it’s been said. Big deep breaths, she can manage that.

Closing her mouth, she sucks the air in through her nose, feeling her lungs filling up before releasing it through parted lips.

“Again.” Lena murmurs.

A second breath, another pull of air into her lungs, then release.

“Again.”

A third.

“Good, keep going.”

Lena’s hand starts a soothing motion against her forearm, rubbing back and forth in a steady, careful rhythm.

Kara focuses on it, sets her mind to think about that motion, thinking about how it feels to have those fingertips run across her skin, the ice-cold touch feeling warm as the friction of the movement takes hold, yet there’s still that cool sensation beneath it.

Slowly, steadily, it gets better. She breathes easier, her body feels looser and less tense, and she finally opens her eyes, greeted by a different kind of darkness from that which she was enduring before.

“I’m ok.” She mumbles. Trying to figure out her surroundings since she didn’t really get a chance to take a good look around before the panic set in.

The first thing she notices is that she’s leaning to one side, her shoulder pressed to something soft and her head tilted to one side, resting on the shoulder of someone else. Lena’s shoulder.

She snaps her head up quickly like she’s been burnt. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was leaning on you like that.”

“Don’t worry about it, are you feeling better?” Lena’s voice is soft, with a hint of a gentle tone mixed in with her normal neutral monotone.

Pressing her shoulders back into the wall and clutching at Jess’ hand that is still in hers, she nods. For a second she feels silly about nodding in the dark but ultimately she knows that Lena can see her, although she does then feel silly for feeling silly.

“Yeah,” Kara says, more for Jess’ sake than anyone else’s. “Are you two ok?”

“We’re just fine,” Jess answers. “We’re more worried about you, what was that?”

“That was a panic attack that I thought I had managed to avoid until we got in here and then my claustrophobia kicked in.”

Lena’s hand is still moving on her forearm, the steady rhythm still going. “I didn’t think about that, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, you’re not the one that set that alarm off.”

Jess squeezes her hand to get her attention. “Hey, what can we do to help.”

Kara shrugs. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do, we’re kind of stuck in here until the fire is out. Oh crap, there’s a fire, I hope it’s not too bad and that nobody is hurt.”

“Me too,” Lena whispers, more to herself than anything.

“Do we just wait for someone to come down here and tell us that it’s all clear up there or something?” Kara asks.

“Pretty much.” Jess holds her hand tighter.

Lena’s hand disappears from her arm and kara immediately misses the motion and the pressure of it but she’s back not ten seconds later, a bottle of water being pressed into her hand. “Here, drink.”

“Thank you, Lena.” She struggles with the cap for a second, her fingers still shaky but then Lena’s fingers are gently batting hers away and loosening it for her before guiding her fingers back to it once she’s done.

She takes greedy gulps of it, egged on by Lena’s happy hum when she’s drained half of the bottle. “Good, that will make you feel better.”

“How are you? You looked like you were in pain out there?”

“I was. I am very sensitive to noise. If I am prepared then I can usually drown out the loud noises but that alarm was unexpected and the frequency of it is just awful. There’s no point in changing it though, all of my employees recognise it and understand what it is, if I change it then it could potentially put them in danger.”

“You’re not in pain now though, right?”

Lena shakes her head and Kara can only just see the movement through the dark. “No, I’m not, the walls of this room muffle the sound of the alarm very well and it has given me the chance to adjust to it accordingly.”

“I’m glad,” Kara says and she actually means it. She might not have meant it quite as much before but after the woman just sat beside her, tracing a comforting pattern against her skin and allowing her to lean her full weight into her while she uses her shoulder as a pillow, the whole time doing nothing but being worried about her and getting her to breathe, she can’t hold any ill will against her, at least not as much as she did.

Every waking moment she seems to spend with the woman today seems to make her like her a little more, their trust building despite her brain telling her that it’s a terrible idea. Of course, she isn’t suddenly about to be best friends with her or be a hundred percent comfortable around her but now, she can at least spend some time with her without wondering if she’s going to be tackled f she turns her back.

Jess is shining the flashlight around the small space, looking around at what is in there with them but other than the bottled waters and the single flashlight, there’s nothing but a box of what appears to be protein bars, not exactly a gourmet meal. Hopefully, they won’t be trapped long enough to need those.

“How long have we been in here?” Kara asks, eyes following the path of the light as Jess moves it around.

“Not too long, probably about twenty minutes, maybe a half hour. Something like that. You were out of it for a little while.” Lena estimates, hand now tapping casually on Kara’s knee, foregoing her arm this time.

The taps are more annoying than the rubbing and it gets old fast so to stop her, Kara covers Lena’s hand with her own, holding it between her own and her knee.

Lena doesn’t pull away though, she just sits there and lets it happen, although if Kara could see her properly, she would see that Lena’s eyes are wide and her body is practically frozen, too afraid to move in case Kara pulls away.

The truth is that the touches she was doing weren’t just to try and make Kara feel better but were also because it’s been a really long time since she has touched another person in a way that isn’t violent or aggressive.

It’s not often people are willing to come into contact with a vampire and she’s more than a little touch-starved, Kara’s touch addicting to her lonely skin.

The warmth radiating from Kara is incredible in a way she wasn’t expecting when she started offering her comfort and she could feel Kara’s blood pulsing through her arm before, unconsciously finding herself tracing along the path it flows through up her arm.

The strangest thing about it is her lack of need to bite her though. Usually, she would be craving a good drink of blood after being in such close contact with a human, she even finds herself lusting for Jess’ blood from time to time because of their close proximity but this time it’s different, she just wants to touch her, to hold her hand and smell the citrusy scent of Kara’s shampoo while she rests her head on her shoulder.

Her lack of desire for Kara’s blood isn’t to do with taste either though, Kara’s blood was divine and she’d gladly go for a second serving, maybe even thirds, but now, it’s not even on her mind.

“I spoke to the front desk when the alarm first went off, they don’t know anything other than that the fire is real and that the fire department are on their way. I can’t imagine that it can be too bad because they didn’t sound particularly bothered or scared.”

“Or they are just good at hiding their feelings and putting on a brave face.” Kara offers up, a little unhelpfully.

“Yes, or that.” Jess agrees, reluctant to believe that it could be anything other than a small accident. The best case scenario is that someone forgot to take their fork out of the microwave before turning it on, the worst case would be that there is no longer a building above them. “I told them that we were getting into the fireproof room anyway so they will send someone down to us when it’s safe to do so.”

Lena, feeling Kara’s hand wrap around hers more snuggly, allows herself to move more than a centimetre at a time and nods along. “So, do you have more questions for your interview while we are in here?”

“Not really, I forgot my notepad out there somewhere and it’s definitely not worth getting fried for.”

“We can agree on that.”

Kara’s fingers start tapping, the ones on her left hand against Jess’ hand and the ones on the right against Lena’s. “How long does it usually take for a fire to be put out if it’s just a small one?”

“Well, the fire station is just a couple of blocks from here so probably not too long.” Lena lets her head fall back against the wall. “I guess we’re in for a little wait though. I’ll have to get some cushions or something for in here though, maybe an electric lantern, it’s not at all homey in here and I’m getting a double dead butt.”

“Double dead?”

“Well, I’m dead so it’s a dead butt but since I can no longer feel it from how long we’ve been sitting on this floor, it’s now double dead.”

“Are you actually dead though?”

Lena shrugs. “I think so, I mean, my blood doesn’t flow anymore and my heart doesn’t pump so I’d say so, clinically anyway.”

“That’s…” Kara isn’t sure how to respond to that, she had no idea that blood doesn’t flow in vampires’ bodies, it does explain why Lena is always so cold though.

“Weird?” Jess chuckles.

“Kind of.”

Lena tilts her head, lips pressed together. “Fair enough. It is kind of weird. It’s weirder that I can’t remember what it’s like to feel my heart pounding in my chest or what it feels like to sweat. I almost miss it.”

That intrigues Kara greatly. That one word. “Why almost?”

“Because you can’t miss what you don’t remember.”

Kara feels her eyebrows lower and her lips pull down like she doesn’t have control of her own face, her emotions demanding to be let out. “I don’t believe that.”

“Why not?” Jess asks, genuinely curious.

“Because I’m adopted. I can’t remember a lot of my life with my parents before they died, before the Danvers took me in as their own, but I miss it anyway. I miss the family dinners I can’t remember and the bike rides there are photos of that I can’t place and the hugs that are nothing more than a ghost lingering in the back of my mind. I miss it and I can’t remember it.”

None of them were expecting that kind of revelation to come out but now it is and they have nothing to distract them from it. It’s a heavy admission, for Kara, especially for obvious reasons.

Lena’s hand tightens around Kara’s knee. “I’ll give you that one. I miss my family too, even though I can’t really remember them either. How old were you?”

“I was twelve, they got in a car accident, and neither made it. My dad worked with Eliza, my adoptive mom, when she heard what happened and found out that my only living relative, my older cousin, wasn’t going to take me in, she did it instead to keep me out of foster care. I got an older sister out of it, Alex, she’s two years older and the best sister I could ask for, it doesn’t stop me from missing them though.” Kara can’t stop her mouth from running, from telling these women her secrets.

Maybe it’s just the vulnerability that comes with having a panic attack in front of people she barely knows and having them take care of her but she finds herself wanting to tell them things. Maybe they’re passing into the tentative friend territory. Maybe.

“I don’t really know why I’m telling you all of this.”

“My dad cheated on my mom and they divorced when I was sixteen, I found out first because I walked in on my dad having a lady over to the house and they were holding hands on the couch. He begged me not to tell my mom but I did and they separated not long after that. My dad never forgave me, blamed me for telling my mom and I haven’t had a relationship with him since.” Jess looks down at her lap as she says it, not that she can see the faces of the other two women anyway. “Since we’re sharing, that’s my sob story, not as compelling as yours though.

“I’m sorry that happened to you. Their divorce isn’t your fault, you’re not the one who cheated and as someone that sheds light on dark secrets for a living, good job. Some people deserve to be exposed for the harm they’re doing. Bad things done in the dark are still bad things, even if nobody was aware of them before you exposed them.” Kara pulls Jess closer by her hand, tightening her hold.

Lena huffs out a little chuckle. “You’re here for a day and you’re already getting all of our darkest secrets, you really are a good reporter.”

“If it helps, you now have mine too, and I can assure you, none of this is going anywhere near that magazine. Can you keep a secret?”

Both Jess’ and Lena’s ears prick up and they are nodding furiously, hungry for whatever information Kara is about to bestow upon them.

“CatCo kind of sucks for the hard-hitting articles and it’s not the best news outlet by far. Don’t tell my boss.”

“And here I thought she was about to admit to a carjacking or something fun,” Jess complains, good-naturedly.

“Oh, you know about that?” Kara jokes, tone light and laughter barely concealed in her voice.

“Of course we do. You can’t keep secrets from us.” Jess bumps her shoulder into Kara’s.

“I’ll have to trust you to keep that to yourselves then.” Kara chuckles, waiting for the muffled laughter to die down before asking her next question. “Does anyone else have anything else they want to get off of their chests? This is a safe space, the room of secrets, fireproof and all.”

Lena snorts. “I didn’t realize that when I built this room it was a double design, keeps fire out, keeps secrets in.”

In the time that they’ve all been talking, Kara’s hand is still atop of Lena’s her fingers fallen between the gaps of the vampire’s, her warm ones heating up the cold ones as much as they can do and Lena’s cold ones keeping her nice and refreshed. “I wouldn’t know, you built it.”

“I’ll have to go over the old blueprints to see how it works,” Lena says, amused. “Although, I do have one more secret.”

“Do tell,” Kara says, waiting with bated breath for the confession of a vampire.

“I’m a really big fan of pizza to the point where every once in a while I will order one and eat the whole thing to myself and have a side of garlic bread. It leaves me offside for a solid week after but once or twice a year, I put myself through it because it’s so good. I always arrange for the whole week off in advance. I’m sorry, Jess, I never told you that before.”

A hand flies up to Jess’ chest. “I am so offended that you’re willing to tell Kara, a woman you have only met a handful of times, but not me, your faithful assistant of many years. It’s just rude.”

“Kara’s less likely to make me give up on my masochist diet.”

“I’m not going to stop you. I’m going to join you. I love pizza too.”

“Me three. I’m really craving pizza now. Where did you get that one from before? The one after I passed out from having my blood drawn.”

“The place up the street. Marco’s, I think.”

“We should get one after this,” Kara says, thoughtful and suddenly hungry. Not hungry enough to touch those damn protein bars though, hell to the no.

Lena hums. “We should get three, and fries, and onion rings, and garlic bread.”

“And mozzarella sticks,” Kara adds. “This is making me salivate just to think about.”

“This is the strangest week of my life and given how long I’ve lived, that’s really saying something.” Lena sinks back against the wall further. She was already partially leaning against it but at this point, she doesn’t give a hoot about decorum. “I need a nap.”

“Me too.”

“Me three.” Kara chimes in. “You should add hammocks in here, I love a good hammock.”

“Me too.”

“Me three.” Lena laughs. “I’ll add that to the list.”

=

Four long hours. That’s how long they spend in that room and by the time an L-Corp employee comes to let them out, Jess and Kara have to run to the nearest bathroom because they need to pee that badly.

On their way up to Lena’s office, after they have relieved themselves, they get to take a look at the damage. It’s not overly bad but it doesn’t take a person with more than four brain cells to tell that it’s going to be pricey.

It’s also blaringly obvious that it was deliberate. A few of the offices on the first floor have had the windows smashed in and gasoline was thrown through which was then lit on fire. Since it was at the back of the building it wasn’t immediately clear how bad it was to the person Jess spoke to on the phone.

Lena is not going to be happy about this.

“That looks really bad, Jess,” Kara announces once they are making their trip up the stairwell, slightly out of breath because the elevators have been temporarily shut down since the fires got close to the wiring and they have to get an electrician out to check that they are safe before they can be used.

“I know. Hopefully, the CCTV has footage though. It’s probably just some kids messing about and getting themselves into too much trouble. We haven’t had anything like this happen in a while, I really thought we’d gotten past it.”

“What do you mean? There’s been things like this happen before?”

Jess nods, breathing heavily and struggling to get the words out as they keep climbing up the stairs. “Yes, unfortunately. Lena’s designs are well coveted, people want them and quite often that means they will threaten and blackmail and attempt to extort her for them. The cops always end up taking out the people stupid enough to try anything but it doesn’t make it any easier.”

“That’s awful, if there’s anything I can do to help, an article maybe, let me know. The offer is on the table but I don’t really know a lot about this kind of thing so I don’t think I can be all that helpful.”

“You’ve changed your tune. We don’t even have to force you to be here anymore.” Jess points out her sudden change of heart.

With a sigh, Kara comes clean. “Maybe I’ve seen a different side to you guys.”

“Lena’s not a bad person. She’s done bad things and she’s probably going to do them again at some point but she’s not a bad person.”

“I’m seeing that. I’m still struggling to figure out where Lena starts and the vampire ends. It was her vampire side that attacked me all those times, I could see it in her eyes, it’s like they’re brighter when she’s acting out, I didn’t see that today.” She has to be honest with Jess, there’s just something about the woman that makes her incapable of hiding her feelings.

Jess takes her time thinking, assessing what she could possibly say to that. She has her view of Lena, and yes it’s probably skewed but she also understands Kara’s point of view and why she’s confused. She’s seen two very different sides of the same woman. One obnoxiously kind and caring and the other absolutely terrifying and full of aggression. Only one is the real Lena.

“Well, I’m still going to be with you the entire time. Just you wait and see though, in time you’ll see her for the person she really is.”

“I hope so, if she really is the person I saw today, the one in that stupid little room, then I think we’ll get along just fine.”

They casually wander into Lena’s office, finding the vampire sitting at her desk with a glass of whiskey beside her open laptop.

“Do you usually drink in the middle of the day?” Kara questions.

“Only when I’m scouring through camera footage to try and find the assholes that tried to burn down my building and put my employees in danger. If they want to start shit with me then that’s fine but if these idiots think that they can put the lives of innocent people at risk then they have another thing coming.” Lena fumes as she keeps her eyes pinned on the screen, a much brighter green than they were earlier.

Kara shares a look with Jess, one that asks if she’s seeing what she is seeing too.

She does. That’s the rage of the vampire right there.

“Why does that mean you have to drink?” Jess questions.

“It helps me think.”

Kara jumps in, not wanting to be in the same room as an intoxicated vampire. “It will make your reaction time slower, you’ll be better off drinking water.”

“Or I could drink…” Lena pauses mid-sentence, catching herself. Her eyes dull slightly. “Water, yes, water sounds good.”

Kara does not want to think about what she was about to say. There are more layers to this woman than an onion, one she isn’t sure she wants to strip back and investigate, especially since she saw such a nice side of her today.

Maybe it’ll be worth getting past this part of Lena so she can find the person Jess is always talking about. The Lena that Jess trusts. She makes it sound worth it.

Lena has to be worth it. If she isn’t then Kara has no clue why she’s here.

Read a whole bunch of chapters early on Patreon here!

#cw supergirl #supercorp endgame #supercorp #supergirl #kara x lena #kara leaned in #kara danvers #kara zor el #lena luthor #supercorp fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #wlw #vampire au #vampire!lena #vampire lena luthor #chaoticsuper #lesbian fiction

[buttercupsandboys]

Sunshine & Rainbows — an Alfie Solomons x original character story — Chapter 7

18+ NSFW - minors don’t interact 🙅🏻‍♀️

MASTERLIST | READ ON AO3

CHAPTER 7: gossip over salvation

Word count: 3148

TW: none really

Alfie is away and Livy crosses paths with Arthur Shelby … what could go wrong?

A/N: Sorry, this chapter doesn’t have much Alfie (which I hate because it’s SO much harder for me to write Livy without him) but I think it’s necessary to move the plot along. And I have big plans for the next few chapters, eek! So excited 😁

I’ve decided Christina Hendricks would make an excellent Livy, don’t you think? With a bit of Alexis Rose from Schitt's Creek thrown in. 

Livy can’t possibly take any more of this. 

She shifts her weight from side to side, trying to relive the shooting pain in her lower back. Her legs are going numb from sitting on the hard wooden chair, and she has a throbbing headache that makes it hard to focus. 

It’s been the longest four hours of her life, and there’s only one person who can save her from this nightmare…

“Ollie!!”

The tall lanky man slowly opens the door, hesitation written all over his face. 

“Yes, Miss Olivia?” 

“Ollie, how many times have I told you? Call me Livy, darling!” She pouts and brings a hand to her chest, doing her best to look offended. “We are friends, aren’t we?”

“Um, yes … I suppose so,” Ollie replies nervously.

“Brilliant!” Livy claps her hands in delight and flashes a bright smile. “And as my friend, I’m hoping you could help me with something?”

Her elbows drop to the desk and she narrows her eyes as she leans forward. Ollie can’t help but notice the similarities between the young woman and his employer, and he backs away slowly, taking a small step towards the door. 

“Well, I’ve got a lot on, but uh—”

“Oh, you’re such a sweetheart, Ollie! Thank you. I promised Alfie that I’d look over his books while he’s away, but I just can’t sit at this desk a minute longer.”

Livy continues to chat away as she stands and crosses the room, placing a small hand on Ollie’s shoulder. She gently guides (pushes) him towards the recently vacated chair. 

“You know I’m a dancer, don’t you, darling? I get very stiff if I sit for too long. And Alfie always speaks so highly of your work!”

From the baffled expression on Ollie’s face, she accepts that she may have overplayed her hand with that last bit, but it’s too late to

stop now. 

She practically shoves him towards the desk and the stack of ledgers. “He told me that you’re, uh, a wizard with numbers! And he wouldn’t know what to do without you. In fact, he’s never known someone—“

Ollie interrupts her with a gentle hand on her wrist. 

“Livy, if you need a break, you can just say so.”

She blushes softly at being caught out and gives him a genuine smile. “You really are my hero. Thank you, Ollie,” she answers softly. 

“Just don’t leave the bakery without one of the lads! Alfie’s orders, Livy.”

“Of course, darling!” She assures him, throwing a wink over her shoulder before grabbing her new coat and making a quick escape. 

— • — • —

The door to the small courtyard swings open, and Livy steps out, tilting her head to worship the sun peeking from behind the clouds. She closes her eyes and enjoys the warmth on her skin before releasing a long, slow breath. 

She‘s feeling unsettled today, and it bothers her because there’s no obvious reason for it—well, except for the Italians who want to kill her. But she’s not too worried about them. They’re not the first people to want her dead, and besides, she trusts Alfie. 

Yes, they haven’t known each other for very long. And yes, he does seem like he’d play anyone against everyone to get what he wants. She was there during the meeting with Mr Shelby, and she’s not quite as naive as she sometimes allows people to think. But she doesn’t doubt that he’ll honour his promise to her father and, by extension, to her. She can’t explain it with words, but her intuition has always been strong, and she doesn’t waste time doubting herself. 

So no, she’s not worried about the Italians, but she is restless. Spending the morning with her nose in the books certainly didn’t help, but at least it’s something to distract her while Alfie’s not around. 

He’d come to her today at dawn, pulling open the curtains before finding the edge of the bed and telling her that he’d be away for a couple of days. 

Business, love. Up north. Won’t be gone long. 

She’d been half asleep and easily distracted, too busy imagining what was under his crumpled shirt to pay attention to what he was saying. She vaguely heard something about “taking up her offer to help” and before she fully realised what was happening, she’d agreed to look over his books. 

And it’s fine because she really is good with numbers. Plus, she’d rather spend a day at the bakery than home alone. But god, it’s bloody boring. 

She sighs as she walks between the long wooden tables where the men take their breaks, trailing her hand along the rough wooden surfaces. There’s something else bothering her, but she just can’t quite put her finger on it, so she takes a deep breath and decides to drop it for now. 

Eyes on the horizon, she reminds herself as she settles on a bench at the far side of the courtyard. She pulls off her coat—the afternoon sun is surprisingly strong—and folds it into a pillow for her head. Then she stretches out, breathing deeply before exhaling and letting her worries float away with the clouds. 

She must have dozed off for a bit because she’s suddenly startled by unfamiliar voices. Her eyes land on two strapping lads sitting at a table nearby, Blinders from the looks of them. She realises they haven’t noticed her because of her position on the bench and is about to say hello when suddenly her ears perk up. 

“It good coin, mate,” declares a stout man with rosy cheeks. “If you’re looking for extra work, Arthur needs men on the door at that posh place.”

“What’s it? The Eden Club?” asks the second man, who is much smaller but sports the same familiar cap. “Fuck, I’ve heard the women are wild there. Bet Arthur’s having a right ol’ time, eh?”

“You should see for yourself,” his friend replies as he stands and gathers his things, his break finished. “The Blinders run the place now, mate.”

The other man nods, and then they both exit the courtyard, leaving Livy to process what she just heard. The Eden Club is under Blinder control now? She sits up and smiles, her mood considerably improved. Maybe she should go and say hello to this Arthur fellow …

She knows she’s not *supposed* to leave the bakery, but surely a little trip can’t hurt? So she slips out the gate and goes looking for a carriage. 

— • — • —

“Peter! Hello, darling!”

The handsome man looks up from behind the bar, his surprised expression quickly replaced by delight when he recognises Livy from across the room. 

“Livy! Where’ve you been, love?” He calls out as he sets down the glass he’s been polishing, casually tossing a towel over his shoulder. “It’s been a while, poppet. You know everyone’s been asking ‘bout you.”

She smiles and sets her bag down, sitting at the bar and nodding gratefully when Peter lifts a glass in silent question. 

“Always the gentleman,” she teases as she accepts the drink, taking a sip and giggling when the bubbles tickle her nose. “It’s a long story, I’m afraid. Things have been… complicated.”

“It always is with you, ain’t it?” He grins as he crosses his arms and leans against the bar. 

“Oh, Peter …” She scolds as she smacks him playfully. “The drama finds me, darling. I don’t go looking for it.”

“Of course, love. Of course.” He reaches for her hand, bringing it to his lips and placing a chaste kiss in apology. “So what brings you here today? The girls should be in soon if you want to say hello.”

“Oh, my babies! Yes, I’ll be sure to pop round soon,” she replies, smiling fondly. “But first, tell me all about the new management? I hear ‘Arthur’ is the man at the top now?”

“Aye, Arthur Shelby,” confirms Peter. “From Birmingham, one of the Peaky boys. He’s a wild one and he’ll love you, that’s for damn sure. You want to meet him?”

“Why not?” Livy replies innocently. 

Peter laughs. “Alright, love. Enjoy your drink and I’ll hunt him down for ya. He’s around here somewhere.”

Livy nods and takes another sip of her champagne before turning in her seat to admire the opulent club. She wonders if Arthur will be much like the other Mr Shelby, who she hasn’t quite taken to. Thomas is too cold—admittedly beautiful but lifeless, like a statue. Johnny insists that he’s a good man, just hardened by the war, but she’s not convinced. 

Either way, she knows that if the Blinders run the Eden Club then the Italians will keep away … which surely means that it’s safe for her to come back? 

And oh how she wants to. 

She adores Alfie and when he returns, she wants to learn everything there is to know about him. Fate or just old-fashioned luck has brought them together, and she’s not going to turn her nose at good fortune—especially not when it comes in such a handsome, well-endowed package. 

But that doesn’t mean she wants to sit around the bakery all day, twiddling her thumbs like a bored housewife. She’s not dead yet, but you never know when the reaper will come knocking. Every day above ground is a day worth celebrating, and where better than the most fabulous club in London? 

“Well fuck me, Peter. Where’d you find this angel?”

“That’s Livy, Mr Shelby. Our best girl until a few weeks ago, a right sweetheart she is.”

“Oh, Peter. You’re getting soft in your old age,” Livy scolds with a smile as she slips off her stool and stands to greet the tall man. He bears little resemblance to the other Mr Shelby, with a mischievous smile hiding under his thick moustache and sparkling eyes that put her immediately at ease. 

“Mr Shelby pleased to meet you,” she greets warmly as she offers her hand. 

“The pleasure’s all mine, love,” replies Arthur as he catches her hand, bringing it to his lips and making her laugh when his moustache tickles her soft skin. He grins at her response. “But please call me Arthur.”

“Alright then. So tell me, Arthur, what’s your relation to Mr Thomas Shelby?”

“Have you met Tommy, lass?” Arthur raises an eyebrow in surprise. 

“We’ve got … friends in common.” She’s not sure about Alfie’s relationship with the Shelbys, so she decides to leave his name out for now. “My father knew the Lees, and Johnny Dogs is a friend.”

“Imagine that, eh? The Lees? So you know Esme then?”

“Oh yes!” Livy lights up when she thinks of her friend. “We’ve fallen out of touch, but we were close once.”

“Well, you should come and visit us, love! She married me brother, John. Tommy is my other brother,” Arthur confides with a proud smile. “Small fuckin’ world, eh?”

“It certainly is, darling.” She pats Arthur on the shoulder as they both take a seat at the bar. “But you know, I wanted to chat with you about the club, Arthur.”

“The club, eh? You looking for work, love?”

“Yes, Arthur. I’d like to come back, but … “ She trails off, not quite sure how to phrase her request without mentioning the Italians. “I’m very popular, you see. I need to make sure the lads are under control when I’m here. Do you understand what I’m asking?”

“Protection?” Arthur cocks an eyebrow and waits for confirmation. 

“Yes, exactly!” Livy replies, feeling relieved. 

“Well, look love. If you work in my club, you don’t have to worry ‘bout nothing—by orders of the Peaky fuckin’ Blinders!” Arthur slams his hand on the bar for emphasis, and Livy giggles, tossing back the rest of her drink. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, boss.”

She hops from her seat, giving a mock curtsy and blowing a kiss, before making for the door, her heels echoing like gunshots against the empty dance floor. 

— • — • —

Livy can barely hear herself think above the symphony of laughter and poorly contained whispers, and that’s exactly how she likes it. 

She looks in the mirror and reapplies her cherry red lipstick, smiling warmly at the chaos behind her; fellow dancers, in various states of undress, primping and gossiping in front of brightly lit vanities. The room smells like sweet perfume and cheap champagne, and it feels safe, like a cocoon where women go to transform into butterflies. 

“We missed you so much,” declares Emma, one of the younger girls, as she embraces Livy from behind. “It wasn’t the same without you looking out for us.”

“And getting the drinks!” Calls out Annie from across the room, resulting in a chorus of laughter. 

“Like you ladies can’t find your way to the bar blindfolded,” Livy retorts loudly, giving Emma a tight squeeze before turning to face the others.

“So … where have you been?” Eva asks curiously as she brushes her long blonde hair. Suddenly, she stops and her eyes go wide. “Oh Livy, is it a man? It is, isn’t it? Tell us, pleeease!”

Her voice rises in excitement and the room comes alive; a hymn of high-pitched squeals and low whistles from women who pray for gossip over salvation. But Livy only smirks and adjusts her stockings, her lips sealed as she enjoys the attention. And, of course, the other women know just how to give it; they all play their parts like actors on a stage. 

“C’mon, love. We all know you can’t keep anything to yourself,” Annie teases as she leans back in her chair, gracefully lighting a slim cigarette before placing her heels on the vanity, ignoring the tiny bottles that go flying as she crosses her dainty ankles. “Have some pity on the rest of us, slaving away each night while you’ve been galavanting around with Prince Charming.”

“Aye, he would be too,” moans Sarah, a slim redhead from up north. “Livy always finds the best lads.”

“The best?” Livy huffs indignantly. “Need I remind you of Richard, that bastard—“

“With the big cock?” Interrupts Annie, and the room erupts into laughter yet again. 

Livy snorts and words slip out of her mouth before she can stop them. “Yes, well … it now seems quite small in comparison…”

Poor Emma is blushing like a virgin but the rest of the girls go wild at the confession. Eva stands up and crosses the room, holding her brush threateningly. “Livy, if you don’t give us more details …”

“You’ll what?” With a flip of her wrist, the small dagger Livy keeps between her breasts is poised in her soft hands. 

“Oh fuck off, Livy.” Eva puts one hand on her hip and swats at her with the other, still holding the brush like a weapon. Livy dissolves into laughter and puts the blade away before grabbing the blonde’s hand and pulling her down on her lap. 

“Don’t pout, Eva.” She chides playfully, pressing a kiss on her friend’s cheek before addressing the room. “Well, I’m sure you all remember Alfie—“

“Noooo—the Captain from the letters!!”

“That’s him, Annie.”

“Argh, I knew it!” Gasps Eva excitedly. “Didn’t I tell you he’d have a big one? ‘Cause I knew he would. It’s a gift, I always know.”

“Jesus, Eva. We all know about your talent. You should give readings for the posh birds instead of dancing with us,” scoffs Sarah. 

“Don’t be a jealous—“

Eva is interrupted by Emma, whose soft voice somehow cuts through the noise of the room. “But do you love him, Livy?”

The older girls exchange a knowing look before Livy gently replies, “Oh, darling! It’s a bit early for love, sweet pea.” 

She intends to leave it at that but Emma bites her lip and looks on expectantly, and Livy can only sigh because the girl is young and still believes in fairy tales. But there are no white knights at the Eden Club. 

She looks to the other women for help but doesn’t find it, so she pats Eva off her lap and stands, taking Emma’s hands in hers. “He’s a special man, love. But women like us …” She trails off, looking for the right words. “We don’t find love that easily.”

Annie snorts, “Because men are pigs, Emma. It’ll do you good to remember that.”

“Oi! Don’t listen to her, love,” chimes in Sarah. “Annie’s just old and bitter. You’ll find a good man one day.” 

“Yeah, lots of good men here,” mumbles Annie. “You know what they think of us, look what happened to Ellie—“

“Alright, enough ladies. How about I get us another round?” 

Livy cuts her off before the conversation takes a turn she’d rather avoid. She crosses the room but before she can open the door, they’re interrupted by a loud knock and a muffled voice. 

“Everyone decent in there?” 

Annie sighs and calls out reluctantly, “Yes, Arthur. Come on in.” Most of the women are, in fact, not dressed but who can be bothered to care?

The Blinder enters the room; his smile wide and pupils blown as his booming voice rings out in a thick Birmingham accent, “Hello, ladies!” He swings his arms wide as he surveys the room before reaching out for Livy.  

“Welcome back, angel. How was your first night?” He asks, clapping a hand on her scantily clad shoulder. 

“Wonderful, darling! But I was just about to head to the bar for another bottle—care to join me?” Livy puts a firm hand on Arthur’s arm and guides him out the door. He might be the boss, but the girls prefer to keep men out of the sanctum of their dressing room whenever possible. 

“Sure thing, love.” He moves his hand to her lower back and guides her out the door, as Livy mouths “be right back” over her shoulder. 

“Bring two bottles!” Annie shouts out as the door shuts and the pair step into the crowded club. 

The last dance of the night is over and the girls are off the clock, but there are still plenty of people around as Arthur and Livy make their way to the bar. Peter spots them from across the room and has their drinks waiting—whiskey for him, champagne for her. 

“Cheers, love.” Arthur lifts his glass to Livy. 

“Cheers, darling!” Livy replies with a sunny smile, gently tapping her glass with his. She leans against the bar and sweeps her hand towards the heaving dance floor. “Busy tonight, isn’t it?”

“I think half of London turned out to see you, love.” Arthur drapes an arm across her shoulders and pulls her closer. His voice drops and she can smell the whiskey on his breath when he whispers, “Beautiful thing, you are.”

“Yeah, she is mate.” 

A booming voice rings out from behind and Livy doesn’t need to turn to know who it belongs to. 

“Alfie, darling! You’re back!” 

A/N: Sorry again that this is mostly an OC chapter. I miss Alfie! But I have VERY big plans for the next 3 chapters (and I really hope I can live up to my expectations!). Smut, violence and angst to come! 🙌🏻 Also, remember this is an AU and there’s technically no bad blood between Alfie and Arthur yet … but that might be about to change. 

#alfie solomons #peaky blinders alfie #Alfie x original character #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons fanfiction #tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fandom #peaky blinders fanfic #livy x alfie

[massivedrickhead]

bechloe week day 8: lost ring

Words: 2126

Notes: the last day of bechloe week and my last entry. A few people asked for a continuation of the last story I posted for bechloe week, and I guess this kind of is that? Maybe not what people intended or wanted, but this is what I’ve done.

I wound’t be opposed to writing more in this universe (probably set in between these two fics) but I’m just not sure when I’ll have time.

I hope you all like this anyway! Warning - it's a bit angsty/sad!

Read on AO3

The sudden clattering and muffled swearing caused Beca’s eyes to snap open.

She’d been having a quiet moment sitting up at the kitchen island. A mug of coffee was cooling in front of her, her chin resting on folded arms, eyes closed as she waited for her daughter to come downstairs and join her for breakfast.

Then she heard the sounds of drawers and doors banging and the panicked “Shit!” come from the upstairs bedroom.

She took a deep breath, held it, and slowly released it, her thumb brushing against the cool metal of her wedding band in the way it always did when she needed comfort.

Coffee forgotten, she pushed herself off the stool and climbed the stairs.

The frantic sounds coming from Maddy’s room got louder as Beca approached. She knocked on the door and waited.

“What?” Came a frustrated voice.

“Everything okay in there?” Beca asked. “There’s more cursing going on than I’d expect for a Tuesday morning.”

“I’m fine,” was Maddy’s short reply.

Beca sighed and leaned against the wall.

“You don’t sound fine.”

It was Maddy’s turn to sigh now. Hers wasn’t heavy with sadness the way Beca’s was, hers was full of a thinly veiled anger. Hers was full of that teenage angst that Beca recognised as something that had once been a part of her. 

“Whatever,” Maddy said. “Fine or not, I don’t need your help. Can you go away?”

Beca tried not to take it personally. It felt like a knife in her heart, but she tried not to let it show. It wasn’t Maddy’s fault. She was seventeen. Full of hormones. Full of grief. They were both full of grief.

Beca’s thumb brushed against her wedding band again, and she somehow found the strength to push herself away from the wall and stand up straight.

“Okay kid,” Beca said, trying hard to keep the sadness from her voice. “We need to leave for school in about 45 minutes, so don’t take too long because you still need breakfast.”

She headed back down the stairs before waiting for a reply.

She sat back up at the kitchen island and felt tears burn her eyes as she rubbed a hand against her forehead, trying to push away the nagging headache.

She wished Chloe was here. Wished more than anything to feel her hand against her back, her lips on the top of her head, and hear her voice murmur some quiet word of encouragement.

Chloe would have known what to do.

It was so unfair that the one person who would have been able to help them navigate this loss was the person they were grieving for.

It felt doubly unfair to Beca that she felt like she was having to deal with the loss of her wife and her daughter at the same time.

Maddy growing up was beginning to feel like a bereavement.

Beca remembered, like they had happened yesterday, those days when Maddy had looked at Beca like she put the sun in the sky. She remembered the way those big blue eyes had looked up at her, mouth open wide in a smile, arms outstretched towards her. She remembered when, for Maddy, simply being held by Beca was enough.

Beca didn’t feel like she was enough anymore.

Things weren’t so simple now. 

Beca quickly wiped her eyes when she heard the sound of footsteps descending the stairs, and she stood and turned her back to the kitchen entryway, busying herself with making toast.

Maddy didn’t speak when she entered the kitchen, and Beca heard a stool scraping along the kitchen floor as Maddy sat up at the island.

“Eggs and bacon?” Beca asked, her back still to her daughter.

“Just toast,” Maddy said.

Beca couldn’t hear the anger in her voice anymore, and when she turned around with a plate of buttered toast in her hand, Maddy’s bottom lip was caught between her teeth, and Beca could tell she’d been crying.

It took her breath away sometimes when she realised just how much Maddy looked like her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Beca asked, passing her the toast.

“I, um, I lost it,” Maddy said, no longer sounding like an angry teenager. She sounded scared. Upset. Her voice wobbled as it always did when trying not to cry.

“Lost what, Mads?”

“Mom’s ring,” she said, finally looking up.

“Oh,” Beca said.

After Chloe had passed, Maddy asked if she could keep her wedding ring. Beca had agreed, because how could she not? She’d gotten one of Chloe’s old necklaces and hung the ring on the chain. 

Beca had asked her to take care of it, and Maddy had sworn she would. 

Beca knew she wore it everywhere, and that she only took it off when she showered or when she had gym class at school.

“I realised this morning when I was getting dressed,” Maddy said, her hand absentmindedly reaching for the spot where it usually hung beneath her top. “I don’t remember when I last saw it. I don’t know where it is.” She blinked and tears were suddenly spilling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“Come here,” Beca said, moving around the island and opening her arms. She closed her eyes as her daughter clung to her chest, her fists gripping the fabric of Beca’s shirt. “We’ll find it.”

“I lost it,” Maddy sobbed. “It’s gone. You trusted me with it and I lost it! I forgot about it! I forgot her!”

“Hey,” Beca said softly. “Calm down, take a deep breath.”

She felt Maddy’s breath catch in her chest as her back shuddered beneath Beca’s arms.

Beca kissed the side of her head and rubbed a hand up and down her back.

“Try again,” she said. “Come on, deep breaths. You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

“I miss her, Mama,” Maddy said, crying harder. Apart from in the first few days after Chloe’s death, when a bewildered and broken Maddy had climbed into Beca’s bed crying, Maddy hadn’t called Beca Mama in years. It made Beca’s chest hurt.

“I know you do baby,” Beca said, closing her eyes as she held her daughter tighter. “I miss her too.”

“I know this is going to be hard for you,” Chloe had said, her voice weak, her hand gripping Beca’s as tight as it could.

“It’s going to be fucking unbearable,” Beca had responded, sniffling as fresh waves of tears fell down her cheeks.

“It’s going to be harder for her. Be strong for her, okay Bec? Be strong for our girl.”

“I don’t want to forget her,” Maddy said.

“You won’t,” Beca replied. “I know that ring was really precious to you, and I’m sure we can figure out where it went, but just because you misplaced her ring, it doesn’t mean you’re going to forget her. She’s impossible to forget.”

“I’m sorry I was rude before,” Maddy said. 

“I know you are,” Beca said. “Thank you for apologising.”

“I, um, I haven’t been very nice to you since… And I’m sorry.” 

Beca could hear her voice starting to catch in her throat again, and she ended their hug so she could look at her.

She could tell she was getting upset again.

“It’s okay, Mads,” Beca said, hands resting on her shoulders. “Things are really sad, scary, and confusing right now, and they probably will be for a long time. We’re both still learning how we do this without your Mom around to help. We’re going to say things we don’t mean, and we’re going to make mistakes.”

“I just don’t want to lose you too,” Maddy said, her lip getting caught between her teeth again. “I don’t want to push you away.”

Beca’s heart broke into a thousand pieces as she pulled her daughter back into her arms.

“Never, baby,” Beca said. “It isn’t your job to earn my love, okay? My love for you is unconditional. Always. You cannot push me away. Yes, you can say things that might upset me, and you might do things that might make me mad, but no matter what I’m always going to love you. I’m always going to be here. There are no caveats to that.” She heard Maddy sniff and hug her a little tighter. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Maddy said. 

“Mrs Mitchell? This is Nurse Faber from Barden General.”

“What happened? Is she okay?”

“I think it would be best if you and Maddy came in to see Chloe today. As soon as possible. We think it might be time.”

“I don’t want to go to school,” Maddy said, breaking Beca out of her thoughts.

“Okay,” Beca said. “You can stay home with me. I’ll help you clean up your room and we can try and find your Mom’s ring.”

“Thank you,” Maddy said. “Can we look through the photo albums too? And watch the wedding video?”

“If you want to, of course we can,” Beca said, feeling relieved that, for now at least, her daughter had come back to her. That she could still provide her with comfort and security. That she wasn’t lost to her.

They spent the next few hours putting Maddy’s room back together and looking for the lost ring.

Beca found it in Maddy’s bathroom. It was behind a cabinet that held her shampoos and soaps and whatnot. Maddy must have knocked it off while showering the night before and hadn’t realised she hadn’t put it back on before going to bed.

It was a relief to find it, Beca hated the idea of it being lost and maybe found by someone else and sold off. 

Maddy had visibly relaxed when Beca fastened the chain around her neck again, and her hand went up to hold it, her thumb brushing against the white gold band, the way Beca’s thumb always brushed against her own.

Beca made them some snacks and hot chocolates, and they spent the rest of the day sitting on the living room floor, the photo albums spread out in front of them as Chloe’s favourite music played softly in the background.

Chloe was always one for having physical copies of photographs. She hated that almost all of the photos they took existed on just her phone. 

“What if I lose my phone in the ocean Bec, and then that same day something goes wrong with the Cloud and all the backups are deleted?! No, I’m not risking it.”

So once a month Chloe would order prints of her favourite photographs she’d taken and would store them in albums.

At the time Beca had complained because it wasn’t exactly cheap, and they didn’t have a lot of - read: any - storage space in their apartment.

But now Beca couldn’t be more glad that Chloe had done this.

“I like this one,” Maddy said, handing Beca a photograph.

Beca smiled as she took it from her.

“Your first birthday,” Beca said. “You cried all day.”

Maddy laughed, “really?”

“Uh huh,” Beca said. “I think you found it all a bit overwhelming. Lots of people, lots of sugar and presents and noise.” She smiled at the photo again. In the photo, Beca looked tired but happy, and Chloe looked as radiant as she always did. Chloe held Maddy in her arms, and one of Maddy’s tiny fists was gripping onto Chloe’s shirt. “Look, you’ve got cake all over your face, that’s probably why you’re not crying in this photo.”

Maddy scooched a little closer to her mom, her back resting against the sofa, and she rested her head against her shoulder.

They looked through photos for hours. They laughed, they cried, and Beca told story after story about Chloe.

After a while, Beca put on the wedding video, and they both watched in silence, Maddy’s head on Beca’s shoulder, tears in their eyes.

“When I lost the ring I was so scared it meant that I was going to start to forget her,” Maddy said, her voice quiet as they watched Beca slip the wedding band on Chloe’s finger, her hands shaking as she did. “But I think as long as we keep doing this. Keep talking about her, looking at photographs, telling stories, I don’t think we’ll forget her.”

“So that’s what we’ll do,” Beca said, her arm wrapping around her daughter’s shoulders.

“And I think we should keep getting our photos printed,” Maddy said. “That’s what Mom would want. I think it would make her sad if the albums stopped because she… Because she isn’t here.”

“I think that’s a really good idea,” Beca said. “I’m really proud of you kid, you know that right? And I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Maddy replied. “I wish she was still here.”

“Me too,” Beca said. 

#bechloe #bechloe week 2022 #bechloe week #bechloe week 2022 day 8 #bechloe week day 8 #bechloe week lost ring #bechloe au #bechloe fanfiction #bechloe fanfic #bechloe fic #bechloe angst #pitch perfect fanfiction #pitch perfect fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #pitch perfect #beca mitchell #chloe beale #beca #chloe #OC

[shipskicksandgiggles]

9 Tony and Harley saying those lines you choose who says what

god this is so them. enjoy!

prompt: “You need a boyfriend.” “You need to mind your business.” (from this list)

Read Young, Not Stupid here on ao3

~~~

The lab was oddly quiet. 

It was a Thursday, there was no reason for everyone to be out of the office at that particular time, and yet there was no one else there. 

Harley typically loved it when the lab was quiet like this. Quiet meant he could focus without worrying about someone pulling him away from his work. It meant hours upon hours of effort being put into his projects. 

Today however, he couldn’t focus. 

He couldn’t focus because his boss was sitting across the lab, and he was clearly on edge about something. 

For the better part of an hour, Harley studied him. There was a crease in his forehead, likely from a growing headache. He was fidgeting like crazy, swapping pens and screwdrivers faster than the eye could see. Not to mention the incessant muttering coming from his direction about god knows what. 

It got to the point he couldn’t take it anymore. 

“You okay, Tony?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay? I’m always okay.” Tony didn’t even look up at him. 

“Uh-huh,” Harley said slowly. He got up and made his way to Tony’s desk. 

“Do you need something, Keener?”

“Just wanted to come over here and check on you. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Kid, I’m fine, I swear to god.”

“You don’t believe in a god,” Harley pointed out helpfully. 

It worked in the way that Tony finally stopped working and looked up at him. Harley considered that a win. 

“Why are you being a little shit today?”

“I’m a little shit every day, it’s part of why you like me so much.”

Tony just glared at him. 

“Alright, so, right down to business then,” Harley started, clearing his throat. “Stop me when I get close. My guess is it’s not work related. You don’t seem to be hitting any roadblocks with any current projects. Is it office drama? When was the last time Pepper made you interact with your company?”

He still didn’t respond. 

“So not that then. Avengers business? Need me to keep Steve/Clint/Natasha off your ass?”

This time, Tony snorted. “It’s not them, but I appreciate that regardless.”

“There is something going on then?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny.”

“That’s a yes. Does it have anything to do with your professional life?”

“No, but I think I’m due for Pepper forcing me to attend either a meeting or a charity ball soon so thanks for reminding me.”

“Not a problem. So it’s your personal life then?”

Tony stayed quiet. 

“Alright, suit yourself. But don’t say I didn’t try to help.”

Harley backed off, but he wasn’t giving up. If it was his personal life, that meant it was family, friends, or his love life that was bothering him. 

As far as Harley knew, Tony didn’t have any living family left, with the exception of maybe some distant cousins, so that probably wasn’t the issue. 

And as for his friends, most of them lived in the building. There hadn’t been fights recently, at least not that Harley was aware of. 

That meant it had to be the last option. Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember the last time Tony had gone out with anyone. Even work events saw Rhodey or Pepper going with him, or sometimes Peter and Harley. 

It wasn’t a stretch to say Tony might be lonely. He wasn’t the player he was in his younger days, having mellowed out a bit with age. 

The more Harley thought about it, the more sense it made. 

Finally, Harley cleared his throat. “I’ve got it.”

“Got what, Harley?” Tony asked distractedly. 

“You need a boyfriend.”

Tony dropped what he was holding and whipped his head up to stare at Harley. “You need to mind your business.”

“I’m right though.”

“I don’t need a boyfriend, Harley,” Tony told him. “Who’s to say I don’t already have one?”

“Tony, don’t bullshit me. I’m young, not stupid. You’re lonely, and that’s okay, but you deserve good things.”

“Maybe I’m lonely because it’s a long distance relationship,” Tony muttered. “You’re too nosy for your own good.”

“Okay, so in this hypothetical scenario when you do have a boyfriend who is somewhere far away, when will he come back to New York? Is it soon? Is that why you’re anxious?”

“I’m not answering any more of your questions.”

“So I hit a nerve? Am I right?” Harley knew he was being an asshole, but he was making progress.

“No, Harley, you’re not. Unfortunately, you were right about me being single though. Not that that’s any of your business.”

“Of course, of course. I’ll leave you alone now, I just worry about you Tony.”

“It’s my job to worry about you, Spud. Now get back to work. You know just as well as I do that you have a deadline.”

Harley turned back to his desk with a smile, but something still wasn’t sitting right with him. He believed Tony that he was single, but something about what he said rang true. 

Could there be someone, someone not in New York, who he missed? Someone coming home soon who Tony would be anxious about seeing?

He shook the thought out of his head. Tony told him to mind his own business and get back to work, so he did. If there really was something going on, he would find out eventually. 

Hours passed. Harley was finally able to block out Tony and make some real progress on his robot. 

Suddenly, the speakers in the ceiling crackled to life. JARVIS’ voice rang out across the lab. 

“Sir, Colonel Rhodes is back from California. His jet just touched down on landing platform B, and once he’s taken care of everything there, he’ll be around to the lab.”

Tony stiffened at his words, and it clicked.

Rhodey.

Rhodey was due home today. Harley almost laughed.

When JARVIS finished speaking, Tony slowly looked up at Harley who was staring at him. 

“Not a word, you little shit.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Harley said, mock surrendering. “Should I pack up my stuff though? I feel like I should get out of your hair.”

“That might be best,” Tony said wearily. 

“You got it, boss.” He put away his things quickly, and tossed his bag over his shoulder. 

“Wait, Harley?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you say boyfriend instead of girlfriend? You know I’m bi.”

He thought back to all the adoring looking Tony gave his best friend when he thought no one could see. “Like I said, I’m young, not stupid. Go get him, tiger.”

Tony shooed him off with a laugh, and Harley walked down the hall to the elevator. He hit the button and waited for it to reach their floor. 

The doors opened to Rhodey, still in uniform, who almost knocked him over as he rushed towards the lab. 

“Hey, Colonel Rhodes.”

“Harley, hey. Is Tony…?”

“Yeah, he’s in the lab. Welcome home.”

“Thanks kid.” He was gone in another second, leaving Harley to step into the lift and head up to his apartment.

As the doors closed behind him, Harley let out a quiet laugh. Something told him it wouldn’t take long for them to work out their feelings once they realized.

#ironhusbands #james rhodes x tony stark #ellis writes #harley keener #tony stark #dylan laken tag #fluff #fluff and humor #pre relationship