#kíli durin

[fili-urzudel]

Jumbled - Kíli Durin x Reader

A proper, full-length fic featuring our favorite little brother! I'm not the most proud of this but it's finished and I think I should put it out there. No one requested this, but it's to tide you over until I put the finishing touches on the last few requests :)

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: a lot of being oblivious and dumb, but other than that we're good.

There were no words to describe Kíli Durin. That's what you were thinking as the top of your quill lightly brushed your bottom lip, gazing out the inn's drawing room window. This was the last town you would all stop in for a long while, and those of you with families had made the choice to write letters to your families back home as quickly as possible. You told them how you were doing, that you were tired but making progress and eating well, and keeping good company among thirteen dwarves and a hobbit.

You told them a bit about Bilbo and his odd little ways that you found quite endearing, if not annoying at times, and about Glóin, and his unabashed love and pride in his family. You told them about the golden-haired Prince Fíli, who was always a gentleman and had fast become your friend. You told them how Thorin was usually a big grump, but you had seen evidence from time to time, usually in relation to Bilbo, that it was all just a front. But the one dwarf you wanted to tell them about, you found yourself tongue—er, pen-tied over.

There were no right words to describe how you felt about Kíli Durin. Perfect wouldn't really do him justice, with his uneven bangs and his dazzling lopsided smile and stubbly beard that he cursed to the end of his days. Neither would ethereal, with the way his scent of pine sap and the feel of the callouses on his hands were so very grounded and real. Princely didn't fit his flippant attitude and his unceasing laugh and his never-ending jokes that had your lungs cramping at times.

Perhaps the real problem was that there wasn't enough paper.

You sent the letter off without writing exactly what you wanted about the soon-to-be prince of Erebor, save for his best wishes to any female member of your household. He didn't think you would write it down, but there was just enough room for a postscript. That would show him.

And before you knew it, you were on your way again. You readjusted your pack on your shoulders as Fíli dropped back to walk beside you. "I don't suppose you confessed your undying love in that letter by any chance?"

You blushed and nudged him with your elbow, too untrusting of your own balance to attempt kicking him. "Do you have to be so loud?"

"I can assure you it's all lost in the thunderous stomping, my friend," he smiled. "But that's probably for the best. Better for the object of your affections to know first, don't you think?"

"Stop trying to push it, Fíli," you groaned. "I already feel horrible for avoiding him for so long. I just... I can't be normal around him anymore, I—I don't know how to get the words out. This is all... so weird."

Fíli gave you a pointed glance. "If you're worried about him rejecting you, there's no way in all of Arda."

"Is that verified intelligence?"

"I'm his brother."

"Fair enough. I'll try."

"Tonight?"

"...Soon."

You didn't even have to approach the prince that evening, as he sought you out to have supper with. "Hello," you said with a nervous smile, scooting to make sure there was plenty of room for him on the log you had claimed. I hope he doesn't think I'm trying to get away from him.

"Hey," he returned a bright grin. "I just figured I'd better take my chance to spend some time with you while I can. We never seem to be near each other anymore."

"Hah, yeah," you answered awkwardly. "Sorry about that."

"Have you been avoiding me?" He asked, suddenly serious.

"What?" You asked with wide eyes, horrified. You looked to Fíli, sitting just a few yards away, and he gave you a look that said, just tell him.

"No—no, I wasn't trying to avoid you at all, it's just, you see, well—" gods you were a mess—you sighed. "I just realized, fairly recently, that I'm... in love, and it's made it hard to focus. I'm sorry if I was avoiding you."

That was a terrible confession by any standard.

Rather than looking relieved or hopeful, Kíli looked... pained. Almost angry, and Kíli was never angry. "Oh. I'm happy for you," he said flatly, before picking up his stew and heading elsewhere. He took a seat near Dwalin and Thorin, silently listening to their intense conversation.

You gave a desperate look to Fíli again, and he just shrugged. "I'll try to talk to him," he mouthed, and you nodded in gratitude.

You spent the rest of the evening in silence.

You loved Fíli. Of course, you loved Fíli, Kíli thought as he wandered the outskirts of camp, kicking a rock from one boot to another. Just one look at the two of them could have predicted that clearly enough. He was tall but broad, properly muscular for a dwarf. He had thick, curly hair and enough braids to make Thorin jealous. He had a full beard. He forged enough knives to supply an army and carried half of them on his person.

What did Kíli have compared to that? Bangs he had cut for himself on impulse so that people would have something else to look at instead of his pathetic excuse for a beard? A small game bow that was useless when anything came up close? A sword that he needed help to make?

There was no contest, really. Even if Fíli was engaged, what would that do to stop anyone from seeing his merits?

"You're sure he didn't say anything? Didn't make any significant noises or... grunts or anything?" You asked, on the verge of tears. It had been three days since your terrible confession, and Kíli hadn't so much as glanced your way.

"Nothing. He hasn't said anything to me since, either," Fíli said dejectedly.

There were only two explanations: he had horribly misunderstood you, or he knew you were in love with him and was so disgusted by the concept that he decided to avoid you entirely. As foolish as it was, you were inclined to believe the latter.

"What about what I said would make him hate me?" You murmured.

"Hey now, he may be giving you the cold shoulder, but he does not hate you. Kíli's not like that. You'd have to do something terrible, like... kill me, to get him to hate you," Fíli assured you.

That drew a short laugh from you, and you rubbed your nose on the back of your hand. "I hope you're right," you sighed. "I just wish he would at least look at me."

That night, like the previous two, you sat away from the fire, holding your soup close to your body to stay warm, despite Balin's many good-natured attempts to get you to join them. If Kíli didn't want to be near you, you wouldn't force him.

It was still light out when you decided to lay out your bedroll for the evening, the sun just starting to dip behind the trees. Apparently Thorin had decided you all needed the extra rest.

You glanced up at the sound of footsteps, and your eyes were met with boots. Kíli's boots. "Kíli!" You said, surprising yourself with how... shocked your voice was.

"Are you alright?" He asked, and though he sounded concerned, there was a hardness to his eyes. "People who are in love don't normally appear so sad."

"Well, they do when the object of their affections makes it so clear that they are not interested," you replied glumly. "You don't have to pretend—"

He made a frustrated sort of huff, and you looked up at him in confusion. He had never made a sound like that. "I am sorry for your heartbreak, but forgive me if it frustrates me as well. It is clear to all the world by his disposition, his words, and most importantly, his braids, that my brother is taken. He has promised himself in marriage to a dam he loves, and there is nothing my brother is if not loyal. And I can understand his appeal, but have I not also been a friend? Have I not also tried to be kind and—and charming and gentlemanly and make you laugh? I am not my brother but I would like to think I have my own merits so why are you lovesick over him when I am right here?"

You gazed at him with wide eyes, a smile breaking across your face. "You... think that I love your brother?"

Kíli's brow furrowed. "Why are you smiling like that?"

"Fíli! Kíli has declared me hopelessly in love with you!" You shouted, and the golden prince unceremoniously spat out a spray of his soup, narrowly missing Nori.

By this time you were full-out laughing, and everyone in the company was staring at you, especially Thorin.

"Will you please tell me what's going on?" Kíli asked, all the hardness having vanished from his eyes.

"Kíli, I may have been... fantastically terrible at saying this, and I'm sorry for that, but I was trying to say that I'm in love with you," you explained, taking his hands.

"You're... in love with me?" He breathed hopefully.

"I love you, Kíli, and if your recent outburst was any indication, I'm feeling very optimistic about my chances of you loving me as well," you confirmed.

"But—but I'm short and uncouth and—and I can't grow a proper beard—"

"You were just touting your many good qualities, and I agree with those more," you teased.

"You love me?"

"Yes."

"I love you too," he finally admitted. "May I kiss you?"

"You may."

#lotr fanfic #lotr #lotr fandom #the hobbit #lotr headcanons #the hobbit headcanons #the hobbit x reader #kili x reader #kili durin x reader #prince kili x reader #kili durin #kíli durin x reader #kíli durin

[redpool]

(Screenshot credit to @mytortoisegotstuckinatupperware )

#thorin oakenshield #fili durin #fíli durin #kili durin #kíli durin #the captain #thomas thorne #pat butcher #bbc ghosts #ghosts bbc #ben willbond #mathew baynton #jim howick #roronoa zoro #monkey d. luffy #monkey d luffy #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #one piece #jason todd #red hood #night wing #dick grayson #tim drake #red robin #damian wayne #robin

[ironmandeficiency]

the company + helping their s/o with insomnia

characters included: thorin, fíli, kíli, dwalin, bofur

word count: 941

summary: how a few members of thorin’s company help their s/o with their insomnia

a/n: again, i wrote these at an ungodly hour even tho i had important things to do today

thorin 🪵

with his duties as king, thorin is quite the night owl

he tends to stay up late working on important documents, reading through correspondence, doing everything but resting

you keep him company on many of those nights, humming softly as you read novels or tend to your own royal duties across the room when sleep evades you (which is nearly always)

he’ll notice when you start to sink further in your armchair, taking that as his cue to put you to bed

“come, my queen, we must rest for the night” he whispers, sliding his arms under your back and behind your knees to carry you to bed

your indignant grumble is met with a soft chuckle, your husband reassuring you that he is joining you

once you’re tucked in, he slides himself under the blankets with you and hums lullabies until you both doze off

fíli 🗡️

despite how long fíli has known you, he will never understand how in mahal’s great mines you are so elusive after sundown

during the day, he knows exactly how to find you and never worries about where you happen to be. but under the light of the moon, you slip through his fingers and seemingly vanish with the breeze

he knows that you like to go on walks to burn off energy you didn’t use during the day; without your evening walks, you’re tossing and turning like mad

you’re almost never in the same place twice; he’s found you roaming the mines chatting with bofur, reading books by the light of the forges, and on one evening you were in the kitchens with bombur chowing down on midnight snacks

tonight he finds you in the royal library, drool escaping from your lips onto a book older than the both of you combined

he spots balin and the old advisor grins at the sight of you snoozing on the dusty tome

your golden prince gently slides the book from under your head, adjusting your body so he can carry you to bed without much jostling

kíli 🏹

you’ve known that kíli was a massive cuddler since you were children in the blue mountains

he had a penchant for being able to sleep nearly anywhere growing up, and since you both were glued to each other by the hip since pebblehood, you were his permanent best friend and cuddle buddy no matter where you were

the older you got, sleep began avoiding you like a plague unless you had kee by your side. it was such a problem that he lived with you in every way but by name, having his own side of the bed and a good chunk of his clothes in your dresser

when he went on the quest for erebor with his brother and uncle, your insomnia returned with a vengeance that rivaled the angriest dwarf

reuniting with kíli in erebor was what kept you energized once everyone heard the news, your body running on willpower and dís’s mothering

when he saw you for the first time in the newly reclaimed kingdom he was concerned. he told thorin in no uncertain terms that he’d be spending the next few days helping you find the rest you’ve been so desperately missing

if there were confessions of love and kisses and beads exchanged between the naps, no one needed to know

dwalin 🪓

the best way he knows how to help someone sleep is through physical exertion. as a seasoned warrior, he knows with absolute certainty that waving hefty weapons around for long enough will get anyone an immediate audience with the sandman

when he feels you tossing and turning in bed, he’ll coax you out to the training grounds and spar with you until your eyelids begin to droop and your stance gets sloppy

you’ll be dead on your feet as your husband scoops you into his arms, silently carrying you back to your rooms with a fond smile (the smile is for you, his signature glare is for the guards under his command daring them to say anything disparaging about you)

laying you on the bed, his callused hands remove your clothing piece by piece, massaging your muscles as he works your tunic over your head and trousers down your legs

a soft nightgown is eased over your head before he bundles you up in the blankets. he joins you and simply runs his hands along your skin soothingly

it doesn’t matter what time it is, if dwalin can help you find rest, he will do whatever he has to do

bofur ⛏️

either bofur doesn’t see how some of the other miners stare at him, or he simply doesn’t give a flying fuck

most nights while he works, you’ll be found in a smallish rolling bed nearby where he’s working. you’re not always sleeping, sometimes simply resting or reading a book while you wait for your dwarf

it was an idea bifur had when bofur lamented to his brother about your discomfort and lack of genuine rest, and it helped a lot

there are occasional breaks in his work, bofur always taking a moment to kiss you sweetly and relay some of the fresh miner’s gossip (honestly, they rival the midwives with how much they talk)

when bofur is free from his duties, he’ll rouse you from whatever state you’re in and guide you back home with a steady hand and a smile

as you walk, he’ll update you on all the juicy rumors and drama and only half-finish his stories as you both fall into bed for the night

nothing anyone can say will convince him to not show you how much you are loved and appreciated

#thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x reader #fíli durin #fíli durin x reader #kíli durin #kíli durin x reader #dwalin x reader #dwalin #bofur #bofur x reader #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit drabble #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit reader insert #the hobbit trilogy #lotr fanfic #lord of the rings imagine #the hobbit imagine

[vigilantegreen]

Walked past two people with their feet up on the table and a bowl with the dregs of batter in it, cakes surrounding them. I overheard one of them say "ooo I don't feel good" and the other say "I think I ate too much of it" and all I could think is that's so Fíli and Kíli.

#fíli #fíli durin #kíli #kíli durin #fili #kili #fili and kili #tolkien dwarves #dwarves #the hobbit #thorin and company #cakes #baking

[swerveable]

With the conflict of who is the older son of Dís between the movie and book, I headcanon that Fíli and Kíli are twins.

And taking into consideration that Kíli is younger than Fíli in the movies and has less of a beard. Being that Ori is the youngest of the company, and still has more facial hair than Kíli. Kíli is either trans masc or his brother Fíli was more developed in the womb, like those twins where one twin almost kills the other twin by hogging nutrition in the womb, so one of them is not fully matured.

#swerveable #the hobbit #fili and kili #headcanons #trans masc kili #ori the dwarf #fíli durin #Kíli durin

[autistook]

Fíli and Kíli

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

#lotr #hobbit #the hobbit #tolkien #hobbitedit #hobbit edit #fili #kili #fili and kili #kili durin #fili durin #tolkien edit #middle-earth #unexpected journey #an unexpected journey #fíli #kíli

[distinguisheddwarffriend]

I will never stop being angry about PJ basically forgetting about Fili.

You know, the f-ing CROWN PRINCE

Have you noticed that in almost all group shots during the movies you NEVER see Fili? For instance during Goblin Town? It pisses me off SO much like sure Kili's a cute puppy who you invented a love story for but FILI MATTERS AT LEAST AS MUCH!!!!

The scene when Thorin just came back to himself and does the forehead thingy with Kili I was just like YOU HAVE ANOTHER NEPHEW JUST AS LOYAL AND AMAZING WHERE'S YOUR LOVE FOR HIM FUCKER

And he even screamed for Kili in the stone giant scene even though it was Fili who was in danger like ?????

#the hobbit fanfiction #fili durin #middle earth #fíli #fili and kili #kili durin #kíli #the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #tolkien

[lathalea]

The Shrieking Monster

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨ This is a gift for @babe-bombadil as part of the @whiteoliphaunt 2023 exchange. ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨ Happy New Year everyone! 🥳

Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield & Dis & little Fili & Kili Rating: G Warnings: family fluff Author's notes: A story set in the Blue Mountains about Thorin trying to be both a ruler and a good uncle at once. Young Fili and Kili are making it a tad difficult in their own cute way. Special thanks to @naryaflame for your linguistic help with a name :) If you prefer, you can read this fic on AO3.

Khuzdul: Thorinuldûm - Thorin’s Halls, the settlement of the refugees from the Lonely Mountain in the Blue Mountains Amad - mother

1. 

It was a perfect morning. Thorin stretched and yawned, settling himself on his favourite chair in the kitchen. The air that whiffed into the dwarven stronghold from the outside felt warm on his cheeks and smelled like spring. As he sipped his morning tea, that strong, aromatic blend Dori bought in Bree, his sister appeared at the threshold. She gave Thorin a bright smile and, seeing her steaming mug on the table, she sat next to him. The lazy silence of the early hours of the day was soon broken by the appearance of two dishevelled pebbles, one with a thatch of golden hair, the other – with his hair as brown as a bear’s fur in winter. After the mandatory morning hugs, Thorin readied breakfast while Dís prepared her sons for the day, humming to herself. Thorin could not stop himself from smiling. His sister was probably already thinking of her visit to the market. She adored going there in the morning, especially on the days when the merchants arrived with new goods – and today was one of those days. Thorin sighed. As much as he wanted her to have a very much needed moment of respite – his sister-sons were quite a handful, to put it mildly – he was painfully aware of what it was going to mean to him. Half a day of having his eyes around his head and his ears pricked up for any unusual noises they may create… or worse – the ominous silence. In the past, there was only a handful of moments when he and Dís realised that the boys went completely silent. It never bode well. 

This day, however, started with the pitter-patter of the boys’ bare feet, chatter and laughter, and the clatter of their bowls as they ate their oatmeal. Dís reminded them to behave while she was gone, and left for the market. Fíli seemed very content about this state of things, knowing well by now that staying with his mother’s brother meant visiting various places in these halls, like forges, or assisting Thorin in other exciting ways. It was different with Kíli – his loud wails of protest at being so cruelly abandoned reverberated against the walls of their home. Thorin imagined they must have followed their mother through the corridors of Thorinuldûm for a long while. Her Little Bear, as Dís called him, was still too young to understand the connection between Mommy leaving, and the sudden appearance of candied rhubarb or his favourite cream toffees.

Distracting Kíli from his misery was not easy, but Thorin managed it by offering to take the boys for a new adventure. Their big blue eyes shone as he told them they would be going to the lower levels of the city together. It was a real treat – Kíli had never been there before and Fíli visited them only a handful of times.

Thorin had a mind to visit the Engineers’ Quarter and show the lads around while discussing some technical issues with one of the water engineers. And so they began their adventure. As they descended down the wide stone stairs Kíli stumbled and yawned, so Thorin decided to carry him the rest of the way. Soon Little Bear began snoring in his arms, and Thorin attempted to ignore the fact that his own tunic was becoming gradually soaked through with his nephew’s saliva. He also started suspecting that the moniker “Little Bear” must have surely come from the fact that Kíli seemed to weigh more and more with every step, like a true bear.

“At least he is not crying,” Thorin muttered to himself, and kept on walking. Thank Mahal for silver linings.

As they arrived at their destination, however, the situation got worse. The Engineers’ Quarter was a crowded place that smelled like tar, coal, and burned leather. Not minding the much larger adult dwarves in their soot-stained clothes who carried – or carted – their wares from one place to another, curious Fíli began rushing between them, oblivious of the chaos he was creating. He took a look at the wheelwright’s workshop here, and then he had to see the toolmaker’s booth there; he then insisted on seeing how parchment was being made, and attempted to find the place where they manufactured those shiny cogwheels. If not for his golden mane, Thorin would have lost his nephew at least a couple of times. Brór, the water engineer he had a meeting with, joined Thorin in the chase for the high-spirited boy. Instead of looking at the water supply pipeline blueprints and trying to fix a problem with water pressure, they ended up unwillingly playing a hide-and-run game to the delight of the onlookers. Seeing your own king running back and forth through the great cavern with one giggling pebble strapped to his chest while chasing after the other one must have been very amusing… for anyone but him, Thorin thought with resignation. His resignation grew even more when he noticed Fíli climbing onto a tall work table… and jumping down onto a heap of coal.

When Thorin finally caught the runaway, they were both out of breath. Although it was rather Fíli who caught his uncle – the boy ran into him and clung to his left leg as if a throng of orcs chased him.

Fíli raised his teary-eyed face to Thorin and sobbed out, “A monster wanted to eat meeee…”

“A monster? Here?” Thorin’s brow furrowed.

It took him a while to reassure Fíli that no monster was going to eat him. In turn, Thorin promised to get rid of the said monster that apparently lurked in a nearby chamber, and shrieked at him. He left his nephews in the care of Brór who tried to look solemn, but his twitching lips betrayed him. Thorin grunted and entered the chamber, carefully looking around, adjusting his eyes to the dark surroundings. And then he saw two glowing points of red. And heard the shrieking.

2.

When Thorin returned to Brór, Kíli was fast asleep once again. Leaving Little Bear in the engineer’s care once again, he took Fíli’s hand and led him to the entrance of the dark chamber. When they opened the door, they both heard the continuous shrieking now. His nephew stopped and refused to walk inside, covering his ears and closing his eyes.

“There are no monsters here, Fíli.” Thorin reassured the boy. “See for yourself.”

“Nnoooo…” muttered Fíli, hiding behind his uncle.

“Do not be afraid,” Thorin added. “Nothing will hurt you here. I promise.”

On the bench by the door stood a lantern. It took him a moment to light it. With the lantern in hand, Thorin crossed the threshold and approached the nearest lantern that hung on the wall, and then another, and another. Soon, the whole chamber was bright as day, each lantern giving off a pleasant yellow glow.

“You can come in now,” Thorin smiled encouragingly.

With his ears covered and his eyes set on the shrieking, wobbling entity in the middle of the chamber, Fíli shook his head.

“This is not a monster.” Thorin stepped towards the huge bulbous shape that made so much noise. He placed his hand on the top of the strange shaking thing and added, “This is a washing barrel.”

Fíli blinked and took a good look at it. The two red glowing points did not look like a pair of evil eyes any longer. Those were two ball-shaped lanterns standing on top of the… thing. That shrieking noise now seemed to sound like a couple of cogwheels that needed a bit of oil, and not like a monster’s screech. And the arm that seemed to reach out to grab him before, turned out to be a cast iron lever.

“A… barrel?” Fíli looked at his uncle and took one uncertain step towards him and the strange contraption.

“Correct. A barrel that washes your clothes,” Thorin explained in an even voice and at the same moment the shrieking stopped. “Look, it has just finished the washing cycle. Let me show you how it works. First, you open this hatch, like so… Watch out for the water! These clothes are clean, they only need to be wrung out and dried.”

As he spoke, Fíli slowly started closing the distance between them, his eyes becoming wider and wider.

“... but if you want to wash your clothes,” Thorin continued, “you need to put them inside, here, and add some soap suds. Then you close the hatch, pour some water here, crank this lever a few times, do this, like so, and wait for the washing barrel to finish its work!”

Thorin kept on talking until Fíli seemed to be completely in awe of this new piece of machinery, his fear completely forgotten. He peppered his uncle with tons of questions: how many cogwheels were there, how many times one should crank the lever, what the barrel was made of… and so on, and so forth. When they left the chamber, there was a big smile on the boy’s lips instead of tears. 

On their way back home Fíli exclaimed, “This was the bestest adventure ever!”

Thorin thought that sometimes being an uncle happened to be quite rewarding. Even if his tunic was still wet from Kíli’s sleepy drooling.

***

His attitude completely changed less than half an hour later, when his nephews disappeared. Both of them. At once.

Stumbling over several painfully angular wooden toys, Thorin searched the boys’ bedroom. Nothing. He even looked under their beds (twice!), but there was no sign of the boys anywhere. They weren't sitting in the common kitchen nor searching for snacks in the pantry. Nor in Dwalin’s rooms where Kíli liked to play hide-and-scare with the big warrior. There were nowhere to be found – not in the rocking chair by the fireplace, nor even in Balin’s study by that large desk where Fíli liked to play so often. Thorin closed his eyes. If he did not find his nephews before Dís returned from the market, his sister would have Thorin’s own head on a spike. The wrath of dwarf-women was ten times fiercer than the one of dwarf-men. In the case of his little sister, the number was much higher, at least a hundred times. And Thorin would do everything he could to avoid being on the receiving end of it.

There was no time to lose. He recruited Dwalin, Óin, and Halkatla, Balin’s wife, to the task of finding the boys, but they returned empty-handed. No one had seen the boys since their early lunch. Then, they were supposed to take a nap, and Thorin remembered their yawning as they closed the door to their bedroom behind him.

And now they were gone. Kidnapped? — No, impossible, Thorin thought. Dwarves cherished their children like the greatest treasures they were, and no one else was allowed into Thorinuldûm. There were no goblins nor other dangers here either. It felt as if the boys magically disappeared in a puff of smoke. Thorin looked around the wide corridor he stood in, but he found no traces of the missing boys.

“Have you checked all of their favourite places?” Halkatla asked, her red-and-silver braids clinking as she turned her head towards Óin.

“Aye, we did,” he nodded. “Not a sign of them.”

“Those wee rascals! I bet they are up to somethin’.” Dwalin said. “They remind me of us. Remember that time, Thorin, when we were around their age or so, and half of Erebor was lookin’ for us all day long?”

“It would be difficult to forget it,” Thorin admitted. “We wanted to avoid another boring lesson with our tutor…”

“...and instead we went to explore the mines! What a shame we lost our way,” Dwalin grinned and nudged him. “It was fun!”

“Aye, fun on an empty belly. If only you had not forgotten our food,” Thorin replied, relieved that his nephews had a proper meal at least.

“If only ye had not forgotten that map ye were supposed to borrow from your father’s desk,” Dwalin chuckled.

Before Thorin could form an adequate riposte, a mousy-haired dwarf approached him.

“M’lord, Master Brór says that the pipeline is fully functional again,” the messenger bowed.

Thorin gave him a nod of thanks. At least he brought a piece of good news. Master Brór was a skilled engineer, and the way he handled Thorin’s own sister-sons…

“Either way,” Dwalin continued, “we had a real adventure on that day, hadn’t we, Thorin?”

A thought appeared in Thorin’s mind. Master Brór. An adventure.

“There was one place where we have not searched yet,” he turned to his companions.

“I am listening,” Halkatla tilted her head, reminding him of a curious raven.

“The Engineers’ Quarters.”

***

Master Brór was more than happy to receive words of thanks from Thorin in person for fixing that pipeline issue once and for all. Despite Thorin’s hopes, he had not seen Fíli or Kíli since they left the Engineers’ Quarters with their uncle earlier that day. Dwalin muttered a curse under his breath.

“Well, that’s it. I’m goin’ to check the workshops,” the warrior said.

“I’ll take the ones on the left, you take the ones on the right,” Halkatla followed him.

“Let’s go,” Dwalin replied, his voice trailing off as he walked away. “And those wee cave bats would better be there or I swear…”

Master Brór addressed Thorin, “I will spread the word as you requested, my lord. Someone must have seen them, I am certain of it. They could not have simply disappeared.”

Thorin agreed with him and began his own search. The rocks could not have swallowed them whole! Magic was out of the question as well, there had to be a logical solution to this! Thoring pulled at his short beard in frustration. Wandering through the area and looking for any signs of his nephews in places they visited earlier that day, he wondered if Óin had any luck. The healer was waiting at their home in case Fíli and Kíli returned there on their own. Perhaps the three of them were already sitting by the fire, with Óin telling the boys countless amusing stories, while Thorin and his companions were checking every nook and cranny on the lower level, going out of their minds with worry. He raised his head, listening to a peculiar sound and trying to figure out its source. It sounded like… shrieking. It was not at all difficult to recall Fíli’s eyes shining with fear, awe, and then curiosity at the sight of the washing barrel.

Without thinking, Thorin turned his steps towards the chamber that housed the “monster” Fíli had been so afraid of not so long ago.

When Thorin arrived at his destination, the door was ajar. Thorin could hear the shrieking very well, but there were other sounds too. Very familiar sounds.

He took a deep breath and shouted, “Dwalin! I found them!”

***

When Thorin stepped inside the chamber, the sounds became even clearer. One of them he identified as uncontrollable giggling, and the other one, slightly muted, sounded like: “Woooo! Woooo! Wooooo! A carousel! Woooo! Faster, Fíli! Woooo!”

Thorin breathed out a sigh of relief only to be struck by a pang of dread a moment later.

Fíli stood by the washing barrel, cranking the lever, grinning from ear to ear, and laughing. Kíli was nowhere to be seen, but his enthusiastic shouts seemed to be coming from inside of the barrel. Inside, not outside. Thorin swallowed; he considered screaming in terror, but something told him that this was most definitely an example of behaviour unworthy of a king. It took him a moment to melt the ball of ice that was forming in his stomach. He closed the distance between him and the barrel in a blink of an eye.

Thank Mahal, the hatch was open. Inside, Kíli sat with his back against a wall of the large metal container inside the machine, surrounded by various articles of laundry, with a happy grin on his face, and a stray sock on top of his head. A wave of relief washed over Thorin.

“Uncle Thorin! Uncle Thorin!” Fíli exclaimed. “We’re playing carousel! Want to jump in?”

Thorin did not.

“It is time to return home, boys,” Thorin simply said, taking Kíli out of the barrel. His clothes were damp and he smelled like those violet flowers Dís liked so much, but other than that, he looked happy, and what’s more important, he was in one piece – just like his older brother.

“But uncle...” Fíli started.

“Your amad will be home soon. Do you not want to see what she bought at the market?”

“A sugar horse? She promised!” The boy recalled his favourite treat.

Holding Kíli firmly against his chest with one arm, Thorin held out his hand to Fíli.

“Let us go and see,” he said with a smile as his nephew’s tiny hand grabbed his.

There would yet be time for scolding and for a conversation about not sneaking out anywhere alone, but for now, the only thing that Thorin wanted was to safely bring his little rascals home.

He only hoped they would manage to reach their halls before Dís returned.

***

When Dís crossed the threshold of their home later in the afternoon, she was greeted by complete silence. Her sons were nowhere to be seen, which was very suspicious. They were always the first ones to run to her and see what she brought them this time. She expected Thorin to welcome her and help her unpack her basket, as usual — but he was not there either. Was this that ominous silence she dreaded so much whenever her boys were executing another of their silly mischiefs? Not really. It seemed as if their home was empty… until she heard a familiar sound coming from a nearby chamber. Dís put the basket on the floor and tiptoed deeper into their halls.

The picture that unfolded before her eyes was the last thing she had expected. Her brother was half sitting, half lying on the sofa, his legs stretched out in front of him, his head resting on the backrest, his eyes closed. Fíli was cuddled up to his uncle’s side, his hair tousled, making her think of a skein of golden yarn. Kíli lay on the opposite side of his uncle, his head resting on Thorin’s lap and turned towards her. He had his thumb in his mouth. Dís could clearly see the darker stain of drool on her brother’s trousers and stifled a giggle. 

All three of them were asleep, of course. And all three of them were snoring in perfect unison. If she closed her eyes she could almost imagine that she had a working sawmill in front of her.

This scene was too adorable for Dís to interrupt it, so she decided that she would let her three boys sleep a little longer. There was no harm in a little nap, after all. Besides, she was tired, and there was still some space left on the sofa…As she drifted off to sleep beside them, her last conscious thought was: “Why do all three of them smell like my lavender laundry soap?”

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#WO2023! #thorin oakenshield #dís #lady Dís #fíli #Kíli #the hobbit #thorin #tolkien #lotr #fanfic #dis #fili and kili #the line of durin #fluff #thorin oakenshield fic #the hobbit thorin #hobbit fic #wo2023

[meteors-lotr]

Honestly Fíli is the guy who just knows random things that can be useful.

Thorin: Oh darn I left my keys in the house-

Fíli who’s already picklocking it: Give me two minutes

Or

Kíli: My stomach hurts

Fíli: There’s a pressure point that can stop that-

Or

Bilbo: Ah man. The puppet ventriloquist can’t make it for Frodo's party.

Fíli pulling out a puppet: I took this summer camp once-

#Listen man is in like two scenes but he's criminally underrated #He knows how to hide knives! #He braids his mustache! #He is dumb as bricks! #Best man! #Fíli #fili the dwarf #Thorin Oakenshield #fili durin #kili #kíli #kili the dwarf #bilbo baggins #frodo baggins #thilbo #bagginshield #like implied

[smallest-clown]

“I hope this email finds you well”

How the email finds me:

#mentally I am in a bag about to be eaten by trolls #the hobbit #the hobbit movies #thorin oakenshield #kíli #kili #kili durin #bombur #gloin #oin the dwarf #oin #the hobbit an unexpected journey #the hobbit desolation of smaug #the hobbit battle of the five armies

[fili-urzudel]

If you could write any scene to add to the Hobbit movies what scene would you write and why?

Ooh that's a good one! I think they're pretty good as they are. I've been reading the book and while there are things that are left out in the movie, there's also a lot of things that the movie adds that makes the background dwarves feel more real and fleshed out. I don't even care if they're like, every basic character trope at once, it's so fun

One thing that always makes me mad is how Fíli is overlooked so often and sometimes it seems like they give his lines to Kíli just because he's "the cute one" (he is but so is his brother!!!) and they want him to have more screentime. The instance that always sticks in my head is Kíli confronting Thorin shortly after he's been freed from the dragonsickness, like Kíli has every right to say that but Fíli doubly so, considering he is the heir to the throne of Erebor. So I would add more Fíli content (speaking of which I should write more fics exploring his personality since none of the writers wanted to give him any apparently).

I might add something about how often Bilbo ends up having to be carried on someone's (often Dori's) back, or a glimpse into the society of the Eagles like we get in the book. If and when I finish the book, I'll reblog this and let you know if there's anything else I want added lol

#lotr fanfic #lotr #lotr fandom #the hobbit #lotr headcanons #the hobbit headcanons #bilbo baggins #Fíli durin #fili durin #Kíli durin #kili durin #thorin oakenshield #tolkien #mae muses

[rucow]

modern au in which kíli is a 2009 youtuber and tries the cinnamon challenge (and also fíli is there), enjoy!

#fili and kili #fili durin #kili durin #myart #please note the little thorin on the fridge ghshddj #fíli is done with kíli's shenanigans 😭 #anyway enjoy this oddly specific content ahahahaha #the plant and pet food are fíli's btw

[ironmandeficiency]

durin line + finding out you have nipple piercings

pairing: durin line (fíli, thorin, kíli)/ fem!reader

word count: 1312

summary: how the sons of durin react to discovering you have nipple piercings

a/n: this just happened to pop into my head and i figured “why not?” it’s my first time writing anything lotr, we’ll see how it goes (18+ for obvs reasons). here’s the dwarven translator i used

warnings: implied smut, one ref to pregnancy, tons of secondhand embarrassment

fíli:

dude was caught off guard in the best way possible

it was only hours after your braiding ceremony, both of your marriage beads glistening in the fireplace light in your shared bedroom

you hadn’t been intimate with each other since beginning your betrothal, and it was not for a lack of trying (dwalin was a painfully obstinate chaperone that had far too many eyes around the kingdom)

doomed to abide by tradition, the most improper act committed was a simple swat or pinch to your ass, or your fingers playfully twirling at the braids in his hair or mustache

removing your clothes in front of fee for the first time before preparing for bed, your love notices two metallic glints on your chest and his jaw falls to the floor

the ends of each silver rod is adorned with polished citrine crystals that were eerily similar to the vibrancy of his hair

you had made no previous mention to him about the metal before then, and he had never noticed their presence throughout the trek to erebor

(the company allowed you at least the semblance of privacy on the few occasions there was time to bathe, and he has manners despite what kíli says to the contrary)

“my tumat, by mahal you never cease to amaze me,” fíli’s constant state of awe over you increased tenfold as he admired how the jewelry complimented your breasts

his callused hands roamed your body, sending goosebumps across your skin with every feather light touch

tradition is very clear about how married couples should spend their wedding night, and who would fíli be to ignore tradition?

tumat — gem

thorin:

training with your beloved was never a simple task. he was never one to hold back a few punches, making sure you learned the easy way that no other enemies would be lenient with you

easy way my ass, you groaned as a well-placed kick behind your knee brought you to the ground

it was refreshing to not be treated like a dainty flower when you were plenty capable, but damn was it a painful process

“come on, my ozbim kovotos,” thorin offers you a hand up with a small smile, “we’ve only just begun!”

you roll your eyes as you get back into a sparring position across from your ridiculous lover

“flattery won’t get you anywhere, amralime!” you playfully yell at him

“it gets you into my bed, doesn’t it?” his teasing tone makes you want to punch the smirk from his handsome face

the coordinated dance you know with the same familiarity as your thorin’s eyes keeps you on your toes, anticipation preparing you for any move he could throw your way

well, any move except for the one he ended up using against you, as luck would have it

thorin knocked you off balance with a well-aimed elbow to the chest, almost knocking the breath from your lungs (he definitely could have if he wanted) as a muscular leg hooked around yours and brought you to the ground

coming back to your senses, you stared at the sky above you and groaned in pain. the hand not covering your face against the sunlight clutched at the poor breast that suffered the brunt of thorin’s strength

to his credit, his response time was almost immediate when he saw you holding your poor breast

he brought you to your feet and fretted over you the way he’s wont to do, asking if your chest was extra sensitive for some reason unbeknownst to him

“it was meant to be a surprise, you dolt!” your complaint had him reeling. surely you weren’t… he hopes to mahal that he didn’t just clobber his one while carrying his child, all the color draining from his face

you were quick to track his thoughts as he started to fret, reassuring him hastily that you weren’t pregnant at all, just nursing some new jewelry that you wanted to show him in your shared chambers later in the evening

his relief was palpable as he heaved a great sigh of relief. your fool of a husband, thinking you’re with child!

that would be the golden ticket to keep you away from his grueling training sessions, not a surprise you spring on him in the middle of one!

you make this known to him and his warm laugh rumbles through your chest. a teasing glint in his eye makes itself known before you’re suddenly thrown over your king’s shoulder, a surprise laugh escaping you

“if you want an excuse to skip our training sessions, you need but ask, ghivashel.”

ozbim kovotos — fierce beloved

ghivashel — treasure of all treasures

kíli:

any time it’s brought up, your dear prince flushes deeper than the color of gloin’s hair and the laughter of the company rings like bells around the fire

after the initial shock of the incident, it became a common source of amusement when spirits were low. each retelling gave more bizarre details and unbelievable quotes that most definitely didn’t happen

after finding shelter within beorn’s home, you relished the idea of getting to rinse off the grime of your adventure in clean water

the shifter’s chivalry (and dislike of dwarves, probably) gave you the first chance to bathe out of the party of 15

time was an illusion as you scrubbed away the dirt and let yourself unwind in the water, the faint breeze rustling the wildflowers in the nearby meadow

eventually, some of the dwarves began to comment about the time you were taking, joking about you becoming a fish (dwalin) or somehow drowning and leaving the others to suffer without a soak (fíli)

this chatter alarmed kee far more than he knew it should, the young prince fighting the urge to check up on you

logic reminded him that you were all safe within beorn’s realm, but some of the others joined in the silly commentary and kíli had no choice to make sure you didn’t actually become a fish

making as inconspicuous an exit as he could, he beelined for the small pond where you were, hoping against hope that you were simply enjoying yourself and

for all the things he was prepared to see (you becoming a human-fish hybrid or being eaten by flesh-eating underwater plants, to name a couple), he was definitely not prepared for what he actually saw

you slowly emerged from the water, tiny droplets kissing your skin softly. the sunlight reflected off each bead with the elegance of the finest jewels on this side of erebor

then his eyes caught the actual jewels you carried on your chest, and kíli would have fallen to his knees in praise of your beauty had you not spotted him first

“is there no such thing as privacy here?! let me bathe in peace, you heathen!”

kee covered his eyes with one palm and turned his back to you for good measure, mortified at his current predicament

“everyone was talking about you getting eaten or drowning, and it worried me! i didn’t mean to be improper!” his voice was so sincere that you couldn’t find it in you to be angry for very long

“i’m alive and well, kíli! now if you’ll wait a moment for me to be dressed, i think a princely escort back to the barn would be plenty to protect me!”

the playful lilt in your voice could be heard from the several yards of distance between you and he exhaled in relief that you weren’t truly offended

he almost turned around again on impulse but caught himself just in time, the blood in his veins hotter than the forges with embarrassment

chuckling to yourself as you put on semi-clean clothes, you looped an arm around kíli’s and let him guide you back to camp, the story of kee seeing you naked becoming an immediate hit

#thorin oakenshield #fíli durin #kíli durin #durin’s sons #the hobbit #thorin oakenshield x reader #fíli durin x reader #kíli durin x reader #fili x reader #kili x reader #lotr fanfic #hobbit headcanon #fili durin #kili durin #thorin durin

[mikathemonster]

service dom kíli versus brat tamer fíli. that’s it. that’s the tweet.

#mikathemonster #the hobbit #kili durin #lotr #kili x reader #lotr x reader #the hobbit fanfic #lotr fandom #kili #kili fanfic #fili x reader #fili #fili durin #fíli durin #fíli #fíli x reader #fíli smut #fili smut #kíli smut #kili smut

[runesandramblings]

Violent Delights

Word Count: 6200

Pairings: Kili x reader

Warnings: Unhappy arranged marriage but nothing violent or abusive

Description: A forbidden romance blossoms between King Thranduil's arranged bride to be and the Prince of Erebor. (Loosely inspired by Romeo & Juliet without the death part.)

Will make a part 2 if you guys want it. :)

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,

Which as they kiss consume.

The breeze felt wonderful against your skin after being indoors for so long. You inhaled deeply, allowing the fresh scent of the forest to fill your lungs as you relished in the sounds around you. The chirping birds, the rustling leaves… The walls you’d been kept behind were quiet, far too quiet for your taste. You were used to the sounds of life in the forest, and to be surrounded by the familiar noises once again filled you with delight. 

“Lady (Y/N), we should probably get back.” 

Temporarily, at least. 

You turned to look back at your escort. Tauriel, the captain of King Thranduil’s guard, had been reassigned as your personal escort the day you’d arrived. She was around your age, both of you quite young for elves, and in spite of the differences in your position she’d grown to be a close friend. Your only friend, really. 

“You don’t have to call me that.” You reminded her once again. 

She smiled, and you knew she would continue no matter how many times you told her otherwise.

“You are a lady, are you not? Soon to be the queen?” 

You grimaced at the reminder.

“Unfortunately.” You muttered under your breath. It was probably loud enough for her to hear, but you didn’t care. She was well aware of your feelings on the arrangement. 

You had not come to the kingdom under your own will. Your father, a high lord of another elven kingdom, had desired an alliance between your people and the much more powerful elves of Mirkwood. In exchange for protection and trade agreements, he’d offered King Thranduil your hand. You were both surprised the king had actually accepted, and as soon as word arrived of his agreement to the terms you’d been sent off to Mirkwood the very same afternoon. 

It was well known to many that the king had tragically lost his wife in a battle against orcs many years before. You were as shocked as anyone that he’d agreed to marry again, after he’d been intentionally alone for so many years. Upon your arrival he had been quick to inform you that the marriage was one purely of convenience, as your people had much to offer Mirkwood. Outside of that one conversation, you had not spent any time alone with the king. You’d not spent any time with him at all, really. Aside from the occasional dinner, which was also usually attended by his son, you had only seen Thranduil a handful of times since you’d arrived in Mirkwood a month before.

He was not unkind. From the small interactions you’d had with him he did not appear to be cruel or malicious. You sensed his hardened exterior had a lot to do with the loss of his first wife, and you could not fault him for that. For the most part since your arrival you had been left to your own devices within the walls of the kingdom. Thranduil had given you your own private chambers. They were large and luxurious, with the finest silken tapestries and hand carved furniture you could imagine. Your time was yours alone, as the king never sought an audience with you, and you spent it as you pleased. You’d grown close to Tauriel very quickly, and Thranduil’s son Legolas was also good company. 

Though you could hardly complain about the lavish treatment and unending free time, it had grown into a lonely existence. Your chambers, though massive, felt cold and empty without someone to share it with. You’d explored every nook and cavern of Mirkwood, read every book and parchment in the library, and quickly grew tired of the same mundane routine you’d fallen into. Which, subsequently, led to your trip outside of the kingdom walls with Tauriel. 

Speaking of Tauriel. You felt her step closer to you as she whispered in your ear.

“It could be far worse, (Y/N). I know this is not what you wanted, but Thranduil is a fair and noble man. You will have a good life here.” 

You knew she was right. As a highborn lady in your home kingdom, you’d watched many friends married off to unsavory men over the years. Of all the arrangements you could have ended up with, you’d been matched to the King of Mirkwood. You knew you would live a good life, a luxurious life. But you also knew you were walking into a loveless marriage, and the prospect of being alone pained you. Elves lived long lives, and you couldn’t imagine being a wife in name only for a thousand years or longer. You desired love and true companionship. 

As you looked back at her, nodding your head in resignation of the truth you knew she spoke, she gestured over her shoulder towards the direction of the gate. Time to return. You relented in defeat, following her as she began winding her way back through the woodland trails. The forest was safe now, the spiders having been driven off for good shortly after the Battle of the Five. The king was still reluctant to allow anyone to leave, and it had taken some persuasion on Tauriel’s part to get him to allow the adventure. You hoped he would consent to regular walks in the forest, so long as you didn’t try to abuse the privilege. He did not strike you as a controlling man, but he was certainly protective of his kingdom and those within it.

You took one last, deep breath of the fresh air before you stepped through the heavily guarded doors behind Tauriel. As you turned to say your goodbyes for the evening, you were approached by a taller, dark haired elf. You recognized him as one of Thranduil’s personal servants as he bowed before you. 

“Lady (Y/N), the king has requested an audience.” 

You looked between the messenger and Tauriel, unable to hide the expression of surprise that crossed your features. Thranduil had sent for you? 

Tauriel nodded politely to you as she bowed, dismissing herself as the servant gestured for you to follow him. 

“You know where to find me should you need me, my lady.” She said before turning and departing.

You followed the servant down the winding corridors, through the only passageways you were still unfamiliar with in the kingdom. As you and Thranduil had separate chambers and living spaces, you hadn’t had cause to explore the areas surrounding his rooms. You were surprised to find he had summoned you into his private quarters, rather than his throne room or the dining hall you semi-frequently gathered in. 

The servant came to a halt in front of a large set of ornate doors and he knocked once before opening it, gesturing for you to step through. You stepped inside and the doors closed behind you. The servant didn’t follow you in, and as you continued on alone your mind raced with the possibilities of why Thranduil might have requested to speak with you. 

You were surprised to find his chambers were not much more lavish than your own. He’d clearly spared no expense on your living quarters, as his shared the same style of furniture and tapestries as yours did. The only visible difference you could detect was that his rooms were just a slight bit larger than yours. As you rounded the corner into the main living area you found the king at last. He was standing with his back to you, and as you approached he did not turn to greet you. You stopped a few yards away from him, standing awkwardly with your hands clasped together. He was a king, after all, and you were uncertain if you should speak first. Surely he’d heard you enter. 

After several long moments of silence, Thranduil finally spoke. 

“How have you been finding the kingdom?” He asked, his back still turned to you. His arms moved as he spoke, and from behind it looked as though he were fidgeting with something on the table he stood before.

“Fine, your majesty.” You said quietly, not bothering to elaborate. You didn’t think he’d care too much for the details anyway.

“Have you been treated well?” He continued, still not turning to face you.

“Yes, your majesty.” 

“You may call me Thranduil.” He finally turned, holding two goblets of red wine in his hands. He handed you one and took a long sip from his own before continuing. “We are to be wed, after all. Even if it is merely an arrangement.” 

You nodded wordlessly as you accepted the glass. You remained silent, uncertain of what to say. He paused for a moment before he pivoted on his heel and began to walk back in the direction he’d come.

“I have received an invitation from King Thorin.” As he spoke he paced around the room, sipping from his goblet. It was clear he was as uncertain of what to do in your presence as you were in his. “They are holding a celebration in honor of the anniversary of Erebor’s reclamation. Would you care to attend with me?” 

That was surprising. Despite the joint effort it took between the dwarves and elves to defeat the orc armies, they were still not on the best of terms. Thorin had, after all, attempted to keep the elves’ jewels to himself and nearly started a war between the two clans as a result. There was an uneasy peace between the two, now that the dwarves resided in the mountain once again, and you were surprised that Thranduil would be willing to travel all that way to be in the company of dwarves.

“Yes your ma- Thranduil.” You quickly corrected yourself.

He paused and turned to look at you, though he did not make a move to step closer. 

“I do not expect love to grow between us.” He said flatly.  “But we should be able to tolerate each other, should we not?” 

You nodded.

“Yes, I would say so.” 

He nodded in return as he held his wine glass out, indicating a toast. 

“Very well then. We leave in one week's time.” 

** 

The journey from Mirkwood to Erebor had taken two days, and with the lavish way in which Thranduil liked to travel it was not an uncomfortable trek as you’d anticipated. You arrived at the mountain kingdom well rested, and rather excited at the prospect of a feast. From what the king had explained of dwarvish parties he remembered from the late King Thror’s time, the feast could go on for days. You would be arriving at the tail end of the celebration, as Thranduil had planned. Dwarves were apparently a rambunctious bunch, and as Thorin had requested Thranduil stay and tour the mountain afterwards he had not wanted to spend more time with them than he needed. 

Erebor was as magnificent as you’d been told. It was amazing how the mountain had been transformed and rebuilt in merely a year's time. Though you were used to the splendor of elven realms, as both Mirkwood and your birth home were lavish and beautiful, there was something awe-inspiring about the kingdom under the mountain. The halls were endless, sprawling on in either direction as far as your eyes could see. The ceilings were impossibly high, and despite the kingdom being built into the side of a mountain there seemed to be an abundance of light flowing from any given direction. To look down at the winding staircases that led deeper into the heart of the mountain would make you dizzy, if you stared too long. The stone walls were carved and inlaid with intricate designs of gold and silver, telling the tales and the history of the line of Durin. You had studied many languages, and Khuzdul was one you were somewhat familiar with. You’d found yourself stopping every few feet along the walk to your chambers to read the inscriptions on the walls. 

Legolas, Tauriel, and a handful of others had made the journey along with yourself and Thranduil. The dwarves had spared no luxury for your group, as you’d each been housed in your own private chamber within the mountain. Dwarvish extravagance was very different from that of your elven home. Where the elves valued natural elegance, which involved a lot of carved wood and intricate silks, the dwarves had more of a rugged taste. Your rooms consisted of chiseled stone furniture and fixtures, inlaid with even more gold and a number of jewels you had never laid eyes on before. Though it was very different from your home in Mirkwood, it still felt comfortable and welcoming. 

The dwarf servant that had been assigned to your care had asked what could be provided to make your stay more enjoyable, and she was delighted at your request for books to read later in the evening. She seemed impressed at your ability to read and understand Khuzdul, as many elves didn’t care or bother to learn the language of the dwarves. You’d noticed the air of arrogance Thranduil and Legolas, and even Tauriel, had displayed since your arrival, and you made it your mission to change the dwarves’ opinion of elves, even if the others chose not to do the same. 

After resting and dressing for dinner, you’d met Thranduil and the others in the hall. He extended his arm out to you automatically, as though it were expected rather than something he cared to do. You’d accepted it regardless. As you walked along he did not look down at you, or even acknowledge your dress or appearance for the event. Was this the life you were destined for? Emotionless, cold… Doing things merely out of duty and not from love? You felt your heart sink as you walked along beside the king. It was a lonely existence. 

The feast was in full swing by the time you arrived. It was chaos. There were long, sprawling tables lined with food and more dwarves than you could count. As you watched, food flew from every side of the room, ale spilled across the tabletops and onto the floor, and dwarves moved about, falling over themselves and each other. It was clear the drinking had been going on for much longer than the actual feast. 

“They behave like animals.” Thranduil muttered under his breath. 

Despite having never been in the company of dwarves before, you found yourself surprisingly unbothered by their behavior. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, which was more than you could say for your royal escort. It was certainly more rambunctious than any elvish party you had ever attended, but at least they were having a good time. 

As your party approached a large table at the head of the room, one of the dwarves stood to greet you. He was dark haired with a matching dark beard. Streaks of gray peppered both his long hair and speckled his face, and with the gold and emerald crown atop his head you took him to be the king. As he stood he extended his hand in a greeting.

“King Thranduil.” He bowed his head out of respect to the elven king as he placed his hand across his chest. “We are pleased you could make the journey.” 

Thranduil nodded tightly in return, also bowing his head to Thorin to your surprise. 

“King Thorin.” He said politely, though you could hear the hint of tension in his voice.  “This is my betrothed, Lady (Y/N). You’ve met my son, Prince Legolas.” 

Thorin nodded at you both before gesturing to the dwarves seated on either side of him. On one side sat a woman, with dark hair similar to his own. They shared a stark resemblance, down to the neatly trimmed beard she wore as well. On his other side sat a younger dwarf, who also matched the seeming familial resemblance to the other two. He had wavy, golden hair with braids woven through. His braided mustache bounced as he nodded his head in respect. 

“A pleasure, my lady. My prince. This is my sister, Lady Dis. My nephew and heir, Prince Fili. My other nephew will be joining us shortly.” As he spoke he gestured to two empty seats on the opposite side of the prince. “King Thranduil, would you and your betrothed join us at the head table?” 

Your eyes traveled to the spot down from the empty spaces. You recognized the king of the newly rebuilt city of Dale, Bard. The one who had been responsible for slaying Smaug, if you remembered the story correctly. 

Thranduil’s increasingly strained smile caught your attention from the corner of your eye, and you couldn’t help but smirk a bit in response. You knew the last thing he’d wanted for the evening was to be sandwiched between the dwarves he still wasn’t overly fond of and the humans he held in equal disdain. However you knew his kingly pride would not allow him to turn down the offer. You, on the other hand, were excited to continue on with your mission of making the dwarves see the elves in a better light. 

“We’d be honored.” He said, forcing an even larger fake smile. As another dwarf servant appeared and escorted Legolas and the others to their table, Thranduil gestured for you to choose your seat first. Unable to resist the humor of making the king even more uncomfortable, you opted for the seat next to Bard, leaving Thranduil no choice but to sit and make conversation with the dwarven king and prince. 

“It’s a pleasure, my lady.” King Bard said as you sat, extending his hand to help you into your seat. “I was not aware that King Thranduil had taken a bride.” 

“It’s a new development.” You said, quickly attempting to divert the conversation away from your engagement. “How is the work on the city going?” 

As the two of you made light conversation and exchanged pleasantries, speaking of the rebuild of Dale and the newly reformed relations between dwarves, elves, and men, you began to lose track of time. Several courses came and went, and ale and wine continued to flow freely. Though the elvish tolerance made your kind more resistant to the influence of alcohol, the steady refilling of your goblet as you chatted and sipped away had your head spinning before you’d realized what had happened. You began to feel warm, and as you breathed in and out your corset suddenly felt overwhelmingly restrictive around your chest. 

Air. You needed air. 

Without thinking you turned to your fiance, grabbing his arm in an attempt to get his attention. 

“Thranduil.”

He turned to you, and as his eyes met yours his brief look of annoyance quickly turned into one of concern as he noticed your flushed and panicked face. 

“Are you alright?” He asked quietly, and you were surprised to find that he actually appeared to be worried for your wellbeing. 

You nodded in reassurance, not wanting to cause a scene as you felt the eyes of Bard and Thorin also turning to you.

“I’m just feeling a bit warm, I think I’m going to step out for a moment.”

Thranduil gave a small nod in return, and you quickly stood and excused yourself from the table.

You were uncertain of where to go, as you’d only arrived in the mountain earlier that day and had not had a chance to get to know your way around. The way back to your room felt somewhat familiar, and you decided a quick stroll there and back might help clear your head. As you wove through the crowd, deftly avoiding numerous drunk and stumbling dwarves, you found that a makeshift dance floor had formed directly in front of the entrance, and only exit, to the great hall. You were unfamiliar with the dwarvish music, but it was much softer and merrier than you expected. Dozens of couples twirled around, following footwork that was unknown to you but something they seemed to know by heart. You were transfixed for several moments, watching them move about with an ease and grace that you didn’t know came so naturally to dwarves. After a few minutes you remembered your desire for some air, and decided you’d still like a short break from the commotion before you returned to the table. You tried to move nimbly along the outskirts of the dance floor, trying to avoid crashing into dancing dwarves as you stayed as far out of the way as possible. As you turned back to watch momentarily, still intrigued, you felt yourself collide solidly with another body. Before you had the chance to correct your footing you found you were falling backward. You braced yourself for the impact, but before your body could crash into the stone floor a pair of arms wrapped tightly around you, and you felt yourself being pulled into a broad chest. 

Your gaze turned forward, looking for the source of your rescue in order to thank whoever had saved you from splitting your head open. As your eyes searched the space in front of you they spotted the top of a head of brown hair; the person to whom it was attached stood a few inches shorter than you. It was a dwarf, if you had to guess. He was still cradling you tightly against him, as though he anticipated you might fall backward again at any moment. You felt his grasp loosen as he leaned back to look up at you, though his arms still remained wrapped around your body.

He was young. The difference in how dwarves and elves aged was unfamiliar to you, but judging by his lack of a beard and softer features you assumed he was not an elder. He had wavy brown hair that was pulled partially back, save for a few loose strands and a fringe of bangs that framed his face and a pair of dazzling brown eyes. Though he lacked the fuller beard and mustache that most dwarves wore he did have a sprinkling of stubble across his face. The lack of a beard allowed you to fully appreciate his chiseled jawline and lips, the latter of which currently sported a wide grin. He was quite handsome, and you couldn’t help but stand and stare down at the stranger for several long moments. 

Too long, you realized. How long had you been standing in silence, staring at the nameless man? It would surely look bad if anyone from your party came strolling by.

“I’m sorry sir-” You started. As you stuttered out an apology you moved to step backward, and subsequently tripped again. The young dwarf immediately grasped your arm tighter to steady you and you felt a blush creep into your cheeks in response. So much for the grace and elegance of the elves. 

“The fault was entirely mine, my lady.” He said in return, his kind smile widening at your flustered speech and clumsiness. He didn’t appear to be bothered by your awkwardness; on the contrary, he seemed to enjoy it. His touch lingered on your arm, ensuring you would not fall again before he slowly released his grasp. 

“I’d hardly say so, you were merely walking by and I was not watching where I was going.” Despite your embarrassment you felt a smile spread across your face as well. The kind twinkle in his eyes was contagious, and you quickly felt your fluster fade the longer the two of you spoke.

“Well if you’re so inclined to make amends, you can honor me with a dance.” As he spoke he extended his hand toward you, and in the same motion he nodded his head toward the mass of dancing bodies. The music had slowed to something much less upbeat, something you were sure even you could keep up with. 

You paused. The nameless man had intrigued you, that was for certain. But would dancing with a random dwarf enrage your royal fiance? You craned your neck to look back in the direction of the table you had been sat at with Thranduil and the other royals, but from your position near the dance floor you could not see them. Which meant more than likely they could not see you either. Even so, would it really be that big of a deal? You were supposed to be making peace, after all. 

“That seems only fair.” You said as you turned back to face him. As you accepted his outstretched hand he grasped it tightly, as if he were afraid you’d disappear, and pulled you to the floor. 

The two of you came to a halt in the middle of the mass of bodies. You were surrounded by other dancing pairs on every side, safely hidden away from any watchful eyes. As you rested your hand on his shoulder and entwined the fingers of your free hand with his you felt his other hand rest on your hip. The light touch sent a wave of goosebumps up the side of your body. It was more contact than you’d ever had with the man who was supposed to become your husband. Every point of contact your body had with the stranger felt as though it were on fire. 

Seeming to know you were unfamiliar with the music he took the lead, tugging you gently back and forth until you became comfortable with the simple steps of the dance. You swayed together for a few moments, neither speaking but simply watching each other in a comfortable silence. Though he was a bit shorter than you it was not by much. He stood at eye level with your nose, and you wondered if he were tall for a dwarf, or if you were short for an elf. Thranduil and the others had towered over Thorin, so you expected it was the latter. You had often been one of the smaller elves wherever you’d gone. 

“So you are not from the Iron Hills, I take it.” He grinned up at you as he finally spoke, stating the obvious. There were many physical differences between elves and dwarves, but if your ears and impossibly long hair had not given you away your dress certainly would have. The high-necked and fitted gowns of the dwarven women were a stark contrast to the lower cut and flowing gowns of the elves. 

“I am not.” You confirmed. 

“Are you from Mirkwood?” He continued.

“I am living in Mirkwood, but I am from somewhere farther.” 

“And are all the elves as graceful as you?” He asked. As he spoke he attempted to keep a serious face, as though it were a genuine inquiry. He failed, and before you had the chance to respond to his prodding a smirk broke through his stoic expression. 

“Well I’ve often suspected I’m not entirely an elf.” You said matter-of-factly, playing along with his teasing. “Grace has never been my strong suit.” 

“Why do you say that?” 

“I didn’t know my mother. My father does not speak of her. And as you’ve so keenly pointed out, I do lack the natural elegance of the elves.” Why were you telling him this? You’d only just met the man, and yet you found yourself spilling out the innermost things you’d only ever wondered to yourself. 

“And the height.” He quipped, confirming your earlier thoughts. “But you are no less stunning.” 

You felt a warmth spread across your face, and you were certain you’d blushed a scarlet red. He was more forward than you were used to, and although you enjoyed the company of the cheeky dwarf you were also an engaged woman. To a king, no less. You’d become lost in the conversation, fully absorbed in the moments shared with the handsome stranger. To the point you had almost forgotten you were still in the center of a crowded dance floor. You realized the two of you had stopped moving and instead stood staring at each other again. His eyes were mesmerizing. His fringe of bangs had fallen partially to cover them, and you felt yourself drawn to reach forward and brush them away.

“Are you from Erebor?” You quickly asked, sidestepping his compliment. “Or have you traveled for the celebration?” You turned your gaze to the couples around you and tugged on his hand, indicating you should start moving again. 

Out of the corner of your eye you could see his lopsided grin return, fully aware that you’d avoided the second part of his earlier statement. He followed your lead and began to sway with you, though you noted his grip had tightened on your hip. 

“I live here.” 

“Did you live here before the…” You trailed off, uncertain of how the dwarves spoke of the years the mountain stood uninhabited. Was it a sore subject still? 

“Before the dragon?” He finished. “No. Why do I look that old?” His eyebrows furrowed together as he spoke, his expression unreadable. 

You’d offended him.

“N- no. You don’t. I didn’t- I mean-” You felt your face flush red again as you stumbled over your words. Of course he couldn’t have been old enough to have lived through Smaug. Could he? 

He laughed. 

“I’m only joking.” He assured you. As he spoke he stopped moving again, and gestured over his shoulder to the exit you’d been attempting to make it to before. “Would you like to take a walk? I could show you around a bit while everyone is in here. The halls will be empty” 

You felt a flutter run through your stomach at the prospect of being alone with the mystery man. It was a feeling you’d never experienced with Thranduil, and expected you never would. You checked over your shoulder again, still unable to see the head table from where the two of you stood. But again, would it be so bad? Accepting a tour of the kingdom from a dwarf? You had made it your mission to change their view of the elves, after all. You wordlessly nodded, accepting his invitation, and he grinned widely in return as he took your hand and led you nimbly through the crowd.

The halls of Erebor appeared impossibly larger while empty. The stranger led you up and down staircases, pointing out different areas of the kingdom and showing you various repairs that had been completed in order to reverse the damage done by the dragon. As you walked together you lost track of time again, and you wondered how long you’d been absent from the table. Had Thranduil noticed? Likely not. He never seemed to notice or care when you were gone. 

“So how did you come to live in Mirkwood?” Your escort finally asked, his attention turning from the newly rebuilt throne to you. “You mentioned earlier you were not from there.” 

“My…betrothed.” You started hesitantly. “He lives in Mirkwood.” 

You paused, waiting for the inevitable reaction. You were promised to another, and it pained you to tell him. You felt an undeniable draw to this man who’s name you did not know. There was a familiarity and comfort with him, something you’d never felt before and certainly did not feel with Thranduil. As you waited for him to excuse himself and leave you standing alone in the halls you held your breath, dreading the fallout. 

“Oh.” He sounded surprised at the revelation, but not upset. He made no move to run away from you as he continued. “You do not sound happy about the arrangement.” 

You breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that he had not fled at the mention of your fiance. Though you’d made no mention of your unhappiness with the king, he seemed to have noted that it was not a joyous engagement. You wondered if it were that obvious to everyone when you spoke of Thranduil. 

“I’m not.” 

“Does he not treat you well?” He asked. You noticed a look of concern that immediately furrowed lines in his face. 

“In order to treat me well or not well he’d have to spend time with me.” You said, offering him a sad but reassuring smile that your intended was not an unkind man. “And we do not spend any time together. He told me when I arrived we were to be together in name only.” 

“That sounds terribly lonely.” 

“It has been.” You continued quietly. Your gaze turned back to the designs etched into the stone floor as you walked. Who was this stranger? This man you’d known for an hour at most, but somehow you felt more comfortable with than anyone you’d ever met before. You wanted to know him better, but that would surely be impossible. 

The two of you walked on in silence for several minutes before he spoke again. 

“Has he seen you?” He asked suddenly. 

“What do you mean?”

“Has he laid eyes on you?” He asked again, a hint of urgency in his voice. 

“Well, yes, I’m here with him.” You stated simply. What was he getting at? 

The man shook his head as he turned from you back to stare ahead as you walked. 

“He is a madman, then.” 

“How so?”

“To possess a woman so divine and not spend any time with her…” He trailed off, shaking his head again as though in disappointment. “The only conclusion is he must be insane.” 

You felt your cheeks flush at his statement. This stranger had spoken more kind words to you in an evening than Thranduil had in a month. Who was this man? 

“I don’t know if I would say that.” You said quietly, keeping your eyes focused on the ground as you spoke. 

“I would.” He stopped suddenly and took your hand, pulling you to a stop with him. He tugged you around to face him, and kept your hand locked tightly in his as he spoke. “Tales will be written of your beauty some day. You are the fairest princess in the most wonderful fairytale. The most beautiful and elegant of all the elves in all of the realms. The most precious jewel under this mountain. If he is not insane, your betrothed is surely blind.” 

The way he stared up into your eyes sent another flutter through your stomach. Something you’d sorely lacked with Thranduil. Passion. You felt it as strongly as anything, the unmistakable feelings of desire and attraction swirling within you. It was as though the force of gravity itself had shifted, and rather than grounding you to the earth you stood on it was pulling you towards this stranger instead. 

“You flatter me, sir. I do not even know your name.” You whispered. As you spoke you felt yourself unconsciously pulling against his hand, tugging him closer to you. He stepped forward willingly, bringing your bodies only inches apart. 

“I am-” He began.

“Kili.” 

The both of you jumped at the unfamiliar voice that invaded the intimate bubble you’d enclosed yourselves in. You quickly released his hand and stepped backward, putting as much space as possible between you as the intruder approached. The young blonde prince you’d met earlier, Fili if you remembered correctly, was strolling toward the two of you. 

“My lady, this is my brother, Prince Kili.” He said by way of introduction as he came to a halt beside him. “Brother this is Lady (Y/N), the intended of King Thranduil.” It seemed as though he were offering a reminder to the pair of you, rather than an introduction. 

His brother. The king’s nephew. Of course it was. 

The stranger you now knew to be Kili was staring at you, the pieces falling into place as his eyes widened. 

“Thranduil…” He mumbled. “Of course.”

Fili raised an eyebrow in confusion at his brother's muttering before turning his attention back to you. 

“My lady, your fiance requested I come check on you. Are you well?” He asked. He was far more formal and royally appropriate than his brother had been for the past hour. 

You quickly slipped back into a more formal mode yourself, straightening your back and clasping your hands behind you. You nodded respectfully at the elder prince. 

“Thank you, Prince Fili. Prince Kili was just escorting me back to my room. Will you tell King Thranduil I am not feeling well and would like to retire for the evening?” 

He nodded. 

“I will. Brother, our king has requested your presence. Do you know the rest of the way back, my lady?” As he spoke he pulled on his brother's arm, indicating they should return to the hall as quickly as possible. You hoped nothing had been made of your joint absence, though given the fact you’d not been introduced earlier the connection would have been a longshot for anyone to make. 

“I do.” You said, giving the older brother a reassuring smile as he turned to leave. “It was nice to meet you, Kili.” You felt a pang of sadness. The evening had gone by far too quickly, and you knew you were not likely to see the handsome prince again.

“And you, (Y/N).” He took your hand in his and kissed it gently, allowing his lips to momentarily linger against the delicate skin of your hand. He released it and quickly stood, leaning in to whisper in your ear before following his brother. “I will find you again.” 

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[autistook]

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

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