#middle earth x reader
do you have any account who writes for Tolkien stuff like you to recommend? I mostly follow you and the elven haven bc you're great but I was curious if there was someone else too!
Hmm... I'll be honest I don't really keep up with the Tolkien fandom and who's writing what anymore - i don't really do much reading on here at the moment.
But here are a few blogs that come to mind for Silmarillion stuff:
@problematic-elves | @saviorsong | @unipork22 | @someoneinthestars | @red-riding | @lockedloki | @volvaofowls
I know this isn't everyone - these are just some of the people that first came to mind and that are pretty active in the Silmarillion x Reader tag at the moment. No those I've no doubt missed out, feel free to leave a comment so the anon can find you too :)
(I also reccomend checking out Archive of Our Own for more Silmarillion content - It's got a lot of character x character pairings too but they can be filtered out if it's not your thing)
Also tagging @theelvenhaven just since she’s mentioned in the post :)
4 notes · View notes
LOTR/The Hobbit Incorrect Quotes #27
Thorin: “Shut yo skin tone chicken bone google chrome no home flip phone disowned ice cream cone garden gnome extra chromosome metronome dimmadome genome full blown monochrome student loan Indiana Jones overgrown flinstone x and y hormone post Malone friend zone Sylvester Stallone ass up.”
16 notes · View notes
Hello!! Can you please do MTL likely to be into pegging for the house of feanor??
I think quite a few of them would be into it but refuse to admit it...
Caranthir (deffo refuses to admit it)
Celegorm (would still be the more dominant party)
Feanor (much like Celegorm but more difficult to talk into it)
13 notes · View notes
Third Time’s the Charm (3/3)
Third Time’s the Charm is a story prompted by @anjhope1’s ask. Thank you very much for your patience - I hope you will enjoy the three chapters I prepared for you. Enjoy! 💙💙💙
Relationships: Thorin x Reader
As always, you can read this and other stories I wrote on AO3 (link in bio).
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
* * *
The third time you saw the King Under the Mountain in Erebor. But meeting him wasn’t easy.
When you arrived at the green marble gates of the dwarven kingdom, all your attention was focused on taking in all the details of this breathtaking structure that fitted perfectly with the face of the mountain. The level of craftsmanship of the dwarven Master Builders who created this marvel was greater than you imagined. And now the King Under the Mountain wanted you to enter his domain and work on some special project of his… You knew you were a skilled architect, but something told you that you had quite a bit to learn if you wanted your skills to match theirs.
The feeling only escalated when you were allowed to enter the Lonely Mountain. The guards frowned at you until you showed them your invitation. After that, they were all politeness and deep bows. Standing on a large platform, you didn’t know whether to look up, down or glance to the sides. The architecture of this place made your head spin. There were uncountable staircases, walkways, ambulatories, alcoves, tunnels and lifts; everything breathtaking, meticulously planned and executed with a great attention both to detail and aesthetic. Unlike you suspected, Erebor wasn't a dark and cold place, on the contrary: it was pleasantly warm, filled with the light of thousands of cleverly placed lamps, and bustling with life. Dozens of Dwarves went about their business, but none of them seemed to notice you. Wasn’t there supposed to be someone waiting for you? You looked around, wondering which of the walkways or staircases you should take. Which of them would lead you to your destination?
“Excuse me,” you asked a portly lady in a beautiful purple gown, “Where can I find Thorin? Thorin Oakenshield? The king? Your king, I mean...”
While you were mentally facepalming yourself, the lady frowned at you haughtily, said some throaty-sounding words in her language and walked away. Damn it, this didn’t go too well.
“My lady! Here you are!” someone called in Westron. Finally a language you could understand!
A golden-haired Dwarf in dark clothes adorned with a geometric pattern appeared before you and made a courtly bow, the beads in his moustache braids clinking against each other. His impressive mane of hair, noble profile and blue gaze somehow reminded you of the king of Erebor. It looked like this place was full of handsome Dwarves.
“Hello, um…” you start, trying not to ogle him too much.
“Fili, at your service, Lady of Gondor!” he exclaims. “It’s an honor to have you here. I hope you didn't have to wait too long, it’s been very busy here. There’s been some trouble in the forges, and… Ah, never mind, let me take you to your quarters.”
“It is nice to meet you, Master Fili,” you reply. “What do you mean, my quarters? I was invited by your king to discuss a project…”
“Of course you were. But it will take some time. Unc--,” he clears his throat, “The king is very busy today, you will meet him tomorrow. Until then, let me be your guide to Erebor. And if you need anything, just let me know!”
When you reached your quarters, the place took your breath away. It looked more like a chamber fit for a royal than a guest, luxurious and immensely comfortable, but Fili assured you it was an usual sign of dwarven hospitality.
You ate a delicious lunch and then took a tour of the dwarven kingdom with the cheerful golden-haired Dwarf. He answered all of your questions, showed you several interesting places and shared some great anecdotes that made you laugh. You couldn’t have wished for a better companion.
When the next day came, you were informed by a courtier that the king sent his apologies, but had to postpone the meeting due to urgent matters. You were left to your own devices until the afternoon when Fili appeared, and took you to the famous markets of Erebor. You had a great time together, you even bought a few trinkets and snacks, but you kept having bad feelings about meeting the king. Fili assured you that everything was well and you would meet the King Under the Mountain on the day after, but you still remembered your last encounter with Thorin Oakenshield, including the look on his face when you invited him to your home. Let’s face it, that was one embarrassing blunder.
Third time’s the charm, as they say. After you had your breakfast on the next day, a courtier led you to the king’s office, asking you to wait. And so you waited. And waited. And waited. You were so nervous, you couldn’t even focus on your surroundings. Finally, a side door opened and the king entered the chamber, greeting you with a curt nod.
Thorin Oakenshield looked even more handsome than you remembered, wearing royal black robes with golden embroideries, beads glittering in his dark hair that cascaded majestically down his shoulders. This was the king of the greatest dwarven realm, not a Dwarf you’d meet by chance in one of Dale's dark alleys. As he set his ice-blue eyes on you, you felt a familiar shiver running down your spine.
“Your majesty,” you made a mandatory bow, just like the courtier who brought you there had told you to do.
“Thank you for your patience, Lady of Gondor,” he said in his low, velvety voice. “And for accepting the invitation to my kingdom.”
As he said those words, his eyes again rested on your face for a few moments and you had to tell your heart to stop beating so fast, even though his face looked as if it had been carved of stone. His manner was very formal, as if you had never met before. You sighed. Was there anything else you could have expected? Of course not. You made a very bad first impression and now you had to make up for it. By inviting you to Erebor Thorin Oakenshield gave you a second chance and you didn’t want to ruin it.
“I’m honored to be invited to the legendary Erebor. It is even more beautiful than I imagined,” your words were rewarded with a benevolent smile. It was clear that he was proud of this place.
“I hope you will help us make it even more beautiful,” he admitted.
“I will try, if you deem me worthy,” you lowered your gaze, happy that he wasn’t able to read your thoughts.
“Your work speaks for itself,” Thorin Oakenshield said matter-of-factly. “That is why I chose you. Let us not waste any more time.”
He unrolled a large roll of parchment on his desk, revealing a meticulously made layout plan of a… you weren’t sure what it was. You gave him a puzzled look.
“My sister is going to marry soon. She and her future husband, Dwalin, need new, spacious chambers in the royal wing. Here you can see the plan of the part that needs to be renovated, or rather rebuilt. There is not much left of it after the dragon’s…. visit,” a shadow passed over his face at the recollection of this event.
“The damage is quite extensive. Here, here and here,” he pointed at the parchment, “ there are gaping holes into the abyss of the Mountain. Those rooms,” he pointed again, “were completely burned, and there is a heap of rubble in place of this part of the royal wing.”
You were staring at the plans with your eyes wide open in disbelief. Had the king of Erebor just offered you to work on one of the most important parts of his kingdom? The royal wing, the private living space of the ruling family, the place that should awe all the visitors with its beauty and splendour?
“And... you... would like... me to do it?” you heard yourself say. “But… there are many gifted dwarven Master Builders, I’m sure…”
“I’ll understand if you think this is a task below you, but my sister wished to have her halls built in the newest Gondorian style, the white stucco and so on,” he furrowed his brow. “This is my wedding gift to her and her husband and I intend to fulfill her wishes. Do you know what King Bard said when I asked him to recommend the best architect for this task?”
You sighed. Of course.
“‘Ask for the Gondorian?’” you replied in defeat, once again reminding yourself why you were invited here.
“Exactly. So I did, and I found you,” he started pacing back and forth, his hands clasped behind his back. “Money is not an issue. I am willing to pay you the equivalent of your rates, tripled, in gold, including all the costs. You will receive the best dwarven workers, stonemasons and engineers to help you, and anything else you might need.”
Thorin Oakenshield stopped pacing and turned towards you, his icy-blue eyes piercing you to the very core of your soul.
“The question is, are you interested, or should I send a letter to Turgon, the Steward of Gondor, asking him to send me an architect who is more interested in the task?”
This was a very generous offer. An opportunity of a lifetime. Judging by how easily the king of Dwarves offered his terms, you were sure that with a bit of haggling you could have raised your payment even more. And if this was any other client of yours, you would probably have done it without thinking. But this, this was somehow different. This was the legendary Thorin Oakenshield and his kingdom. Here, you would have the chance to learn the secrets of the dwarven stonemasonry and engineering as well as explore this place thoroughly - a feat that none of the people of Dale and probably neither of Gondor had achieved.
“I am, your majesty. I will help you with this project,” the words rolled out of your mouth confidently.
The king simply nodded in acknowledgment. You noticed a shadow of a smile hiding in his beard that somehow made you want to give him a big smile in return, but you schooled your face in a professional expression, determined not to do anything stupid again and ruin your chances for working on this prestigious project forever.
When you were leaving the king’s office, you were grinning widely, making a passing courtier look at you in surprise. Accepting this job was the correct decision to make, you congratulated yourself. And it had absolutely nothing to do with how blue Thorin’s eyes were as he rested his gaze on your face.
Renovating a large part of the royal wing was the most demanding task in your life. You had to learn as much as you could about the dwarven construction methods, spend countless hours with the best Master Builders, engineers and stonemasons of Erebor, discuss every single detail of your plan and then actually start executing it. Days passed like hours; weeks passed like days. The work was both demanding and rewarding, but you did everything you could to finish it on time. You only wished you could see Thorin more often.
Thorin. You didn’t know when you started thinking of him this way, as a person, not as a great king, an official figure. Perhaps it was on that day when you accidentally ran into him one early morning when you hurried to work through one of the corridors in the royal wing? He was in his morning clothes, wearing a simple tunic and linen trousers, but the regal air around him was unmistakable. You still remember how fast you were walking with a mug of tea in your hand, turning around the corner, and how hard his body was when you collided into one another. As hard as rock. The impact knocked the breath out of your lungs and you lost your balance, spilling the warm liquid on his tunic. You gasped and would have fallen to the floor, but a pair of strong arms kept you in place.
You blinked. Yes, a pair of strong arms. And a pair of wide, dwarven hands resting on your upper arms. You could feel the warmth of his skin through the fabric of your blouse. Lowering your gaze you saw the handsome face of the Dwarf that has been haunting you in your dreams since you saw him for the first time.
“Thorin…” his name slipped out of your mouth and you cursed yourself for being so indecorous. At the same moment, your eyes widened, seeing the dark stain on his clothes. Great. A double disaster.
“Your majesty, forgive me. I didn’t see where I was going.”
“If you are as swift with your work as you are when walking, the royal wing will be finished quite soon I imagine!” he gave out a low chuckle and you couldn’t take your eyes away from his face, his white teeth contrasting with the lush darkness of his beard. When he smiled, he seemed even more handsome.
“Your tunic… I am so sorry,” you mumbled, quickly taking out a handkerchief and frantically patting the fabric on his chest with it. “Have I burned you? I swear, I didn’t see you walking…”
Sometimes when you were stressed, you would blab a lot. Like at that very moment. You scolded yourself again, trying to avert the damage. As your hand started moving across his tunic, you realized that your fingers brushed against his pectoral. Perhaps it was true what they said and the Dwarves were really made from rock, a thought crossed your mind as your fingers traced the curves of his muscles with only a layer of fabric between you. You swallowed. Why was it so hot in here?
“My lady,” you heard Thorin’s velvety voice as one of his hands covered yours, keeping it against his chest. His very warm chest. Did he have a furnace inside of his body? You swallowed again and lowered your eyes. You were in deep, deep trouble.
“My lady,” he repeated. “Please, there is no need. I am well.”
“But the tea was hot, are you sure…?” your cheeks were burning and you didn’t dare to look him in the eyes. Instead, you focused on his hand; those long yet thick fingers, the powerfully looking palm and the strong wrist of a warrior.
“I am sure,” the hand you observed, Thorin’s hand, lifted yours from his chest, moved it slowly to his face and then his sensually curved lips brushed against it, sending a myriad of shivers from your palm straight to your spine.
Thorin. Oakenshield. Has. Just. Kissed. Your. Hand.
Your heart made a flip.
The handkerchief fell out of your hand and glided down to the floor.
You gave out a small gasp of surprise.
“Forgive me,” you mumbled.
And then you ran.
Bad luck comes in threes.
At least that’s what someone told you many years ago.
One: you disgraced yourself in the eyes of Thorin Oakenshield by inviting him to your own home. Shameless.
Two: you slammed blindly into him and spilled hot tea all over his (very well honed) chest. Rude.
Three: when he decorously kissed your hand, you ran away as fast as you could. Crazy.
What’s worse, you couldn’t stop thinking about his eyes, his hands, his touch and his voice. You didn’t even dare thinking about his lips, too ashamed of the thoughts that might appear in your head.
It was clear: there was no hope for you. You had wanted Thorin to… well, never mind what you wanted. It wouldn’t happen anyway, not after the latest disaster when you made a fool out of yourself. It’s been a week since you attacked the king of Erebor with tea and you should be probably thanking the Valar that no one put you to jail for an attempted assasination or something. Everyone knew that the Dwarves were very touchy when it came to their honour and the honour of their king. To be honest, you were surprised that none of his advisors asked you for a “talk” to tell you to pack your things for offending the crown or something like that. At least not yet.
You decided to keep your profile low, work as much and as fast as you could, and to minimize your presence in the corridors of the royal wing at the times of the day when it was likely to meet the king himself. Avoiding him was the safest option, or at least that was what you told yourself.
Everything seemed to work well, you were making progress renovating the royal wing, but then a serious problem appeared.
Remember the huge, gaping holes where the floors and walls used to be? Judging by the size of them, it was probably where the dragon pulled his huge body through when leaving the mountain, destroying even the hardest marble on his way. And finding an equivalent that would be sturdy enough to guarantee the structural integrity of the whole royal wing seemed to be a hopeless endeavour. For some reason, whatever you and the Dwarven Master Builders came up with, turned out to be useless. None of the gondorian nor ereborean techniques would work, you tried everything. The best engineers of Erebor shook their heads and pulled at their beards in worry. It simply could not be done, the damage was too extensive, they said. They even recommended rebuilding the whole royal wing in another part of the Mountain, but you wouldn’t give up that easily.
After the last disastrous meeting with Thorin Oakenshield you tended to work in the night (lesser chance of accidentally meeting the king), and it was after midnight when you finally came up with a brilliant idea. Or rather, a very obvious one - for someone from your world.
Making concrete shouldn’t be the problem, all the ingredients could be found in Erebor, but you needed the steel rods that would reinforce the structure. You didn’t know much about dwarven metallurgy, but heard a lot about the Forges of Erebor. Perhaps the Dwarves could produce the reinforcement rods according to your specifications? There was a chance that it could work! You jumped up, and, without thinking, ran to the Forges. Master Fili showed you the entrance to that place once, but you’ve never had a chance to visit it yourself. Many of the Dwarves knew of you by then so you were sure that the Forge Masters would help you solve the problem. Only when you stopped in the doorway did you realize what the time was. Two hours past midnight. The huge cavern seemed to be almost empty. Only a few of the great furnaces were working, but it was a spectacular sight anyway. Unfortunately, as you walked through the cavern, you couldn’t find any Dwarves there. It was very probable that there were no night shifts, everyone was asleep and you should go to bed too. You were about to turn back when you heard a sound of metal being hammered. So there was someone there! Someone who could help! Following the sounds, you quickly reached a workbench at the side of the cavern and saw a dark silhouette of a dwarven blacksmith raising his hammer into the air and then hitting a long piece of metal with great strength.
In the light from the forges you could see the Dwarf’s back muscles dancing, his powerful arm moving through the air with unrelenting precision, his long dark hair gathered in a bun at the back of his head.
It was getting very hot and your cheeks were burning. From the heat, of course. No wonder that the blacksmith took off his shirt, the temperature was rising very fast. Trying to stop ogling his amazing shoulder-to-hip ratio, you took a step back, your courage suddenly fizzling away. Perhaps it was better not to disturb him.
And then you stepped on something, lost your balance and fell on the ground with a horrible cacophony of a dozen metal blades and axes falling to the floor.
The blacksmith immediately stopped working and turned around towards the source of noise. His ice-blue eyes found you at once. The beads on his temple braids clinked. Thorin tilted his head and looked straight at you.
“Lady of Gondor?” he put away his tools and stepped ahead, his gloved arm reaching out towards you. “What are you doing here?”
You groaned internally, but took his hand. As he helped you to get up, you couldn’t help but notice all the glorious details of his torso. There was coarse dark hair, and those muscles, and tattoos, and more muscles, and some smudges, and his skin glistening in the firelight. It was getting very, very hot.
“Thank you, your majesty,” you started, unable to say anything more, but very much able to stare at his glorious body.
“You may call me Thorin,” you heard his voice. “You have already called me that once and I must say I rather enjoy it.”
“Thank you, your m--, Thorin,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks burn. You couldn’t believe it. Shouldn’t he be distancing himself from you, that shameless, rude and crazy woman of Men?
“I didn’t want to disturb you, I only wanted to find a Forge Master…” you explained.
“At this hour?” he lifted his eyebrow and mysterious sparks danced in his eyes.
“I… I have been working.”
“Ah, so that is why I have not seen you for a while,” he nodded, as if to himself. “What do you need a Forge Master for, if I may ask?”
“There is, or rather there was this construction problem, but you don’t need to worry, your-- Thorin,” you bit on your lip. “I believe I’ve solved it. But I wanted to ask a Forge Master some questions to be sure.”
“Feel free to ask, then,” Thorin gave you an encouraging smile.
You looked around and then back at him.
“You… you are a Forge Master?” your eyes widened. “But… aren’t you a king?”
“It is good for a king to know a thing or two about forging metals. Especially if a said king is a dwarf,” he grinned at you playfully. This was the side of him you never knew existed. “Forgive me for my state of undress, please, speak, I am listening.”
With those words, he walked to a nearby bucket filled with water and splashed it all over his torso. Water drops ran along the hills and valleys of his broad back and you had to avert your gaze for a few moments in order to keep your sanity.
“I… I would like to know,” you cleared your throat, “whether your forges can produce rods made of a specific kind of steel.”
When you looked back at him, Thorin was dressed in a plain dark blue tunic, his hair damp. You let out a quiet sigh of relief mixed with disappointment. But he was dressed now, it was good, right? It was the heat that muddled your brain, it had to be.
Somehow you managed to trick your brain into work mode and got into a discussion with Thorin about the correct specifications of the reinforcement rods. Who would have thought, a king who knew so much of forging and metallurgy?! You tried to not admit it to yourself, but you’ve always found intelligent, knowledgeable men to be very alluring.
“I believe we can make it work, my lady,” Thorin said.
“What a relief!” a big smile appeared on your face. “Now I can finally go to sleep! I spent many sleepless nights working on this issue.”
“Then sleep is definitely what you deserve. Will you allow me to walk you back to your chambers?” his low voice rang in the air.
“It would be my pleasure!” you blurted out, still excited about solving the problem. Only after you had said it did you realize what it meant. “But… you are a king, would it be proper…?”
He gave out a chuckle that pleasantly rang in your ears.
“Proper? May I remind you that you were the one who invited me to your home in front of everyone?” he grinned.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what it meant back then,” you looked away in embarrassment.
“I gathered as much. You are of Men, you don’t know our customs.”
“I made a really bad first impression.”
“Do you know what Dwalin said to me after that night? I like this one, she is as bold as dwarf-women!” Thorin offered, clearly amused.
“So… you don’t hold it against me?” you blinked in surprise.
Thorin closed the distance between you and spoke in a softer tone of voice, “Have you not noticed that I invited you to my home, to my kingdom myself? And you accepted this invitation?”
Your jaw dropped. The conversation with Josiah and Leah flashed before your eyes. If an unwed person invites another unwed person into their home, for the Dwarves it means that they are open to the idea of courting.
“But… but you… but I… you never… I never…” you spoke very eloquently, staring into his eyes and desperately trying not to drown in them. He was so close now, if you tilted your head down you could touch his forehead with yours.
“Do not be alarmed, my lady. As I said, I am aware you do not know our customs. But I do admire boldness and a warrior’s spirit,” he took a deep breath. “And I have grown to admire you from afar.”
“You… you have?” this was not happening. It couldn’t. He was a Dwarf. You were a woman of Men. He was a king. You were an architect employed by him. “But you are a…”
“A king, indeed. Even a king needs a companion in his life. Someone whose beauty is surpassed only by her intelligence. Someone… like you,” his last words were merely a whisper, enveloping you with their velvety timbre.
“But… we barely know each other!” you blurted out and added quietly, “I would like to know you better, though.”
There, you said it, and there was no coming back. You looked deep into the sapphire blue eyes of the Dwarf who stood in front of you, the king that had been reining your heart since you saw him for the first time, and you realized your heart was beating faster and faster in anticipation of his next words.
Something glittered in Thorin’s eyes and then a smile bloomed on his face, reaching all the way to his gaze, “Your wish is my command, my lady!”
This is when he took your hand and kissed it gently, your skin tingling under his lips, his soft beard brushing against the back of your hand. With great reverence he placed your hand on his arm and led you away from the forges, showing you the secrets of Erebor that only a king knew. And each time he gazed at you it was as if diamonds shone in his eyes.
Half a year later the restoration of the royal wing was finished. In the meantime, you and Thorin grew closer together, and soon you discovered how much you had in common. Before, meeting him made you giddy and you tried to avoid it. Now, not meeting him every day felt weird, unnatural. As the months passed by, you learned more about Erebor and its people, and even more about the dwarven culture. You visited Dale from time to time, but every time you found yourself counting hours until your return to the Lonely Mountain. You chuckled at its name. There was nothing lonely about that mountain, not since you and Thorin found yourselves for good.
In the very early hours of the morning, when the song and music of Dis and Dwalin’s wedding feast still reverberated in the mountain, Thorin took you to one of the outside terraces of the Mountain to look at the sunrise. As the pink wisps of dawn slowly creeped up onto the brightening sky, as the first, soft rays of sun warmed your faces, Thorin took your hands into his, and as he gazed into your eyes, he asked you a simple question.
“My lady, will you allow me to court you?”
You looked at his face that has grown so dear to you during these months, you saw the glints in his eyes that matched the hope blooming in your heart, and then you replied.
“I will, Thorin, with all my heart.”
As your lips met his in a gentle kiss, you realized something. That saying about bad luck was wrong, very wrong.
Happiness comes in threes.
>> THE END <<
* * *
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
So, this is it. The end. Thank you for reading this story and staying until the grand finale!
Let me know how you liked it :)
Read it? Like it? Reblog it!
Taglist: @fizzyxcustard @shrimpsthings @dark-angel-is-back
@anyaspidergirl-blog @justfollowtheroad @reblogunderthemountain @jotink78 @rachel1959
@guardianofrivendell @beenovel @nelleedraws @xmly-xo
59 notes · View notes
mtl dom in bed but with the feanorians 😳✋
oooo i like this one! Again i feel like there's some wiggle room - this is just my opinion and i'm always open for discussion :)
21 notes · View notes
Abandoned Work: Flower Crowns and Stubby Fingers (Tuor x Reader)
You’ve confided in your best friend Idril about your attraction to Tuor yet she seems rather determined to seduce the man herself.
A/N: So here’s another one of my abandoned works. I started this 2 or 3 years ago and then decided i hated the idea haha. As ever, I’m not taking requests to complete this fic but i thought I’d let you see how far i got with it!
The sun was high in the sky, almost nearing midday, as you continued on with your work. The shadows forming made it difficult for you to see your own body blocking out the light. You were on your hands and knees tending to the flower beds along the side of the path, pulling up weeds and making sure each plant had their own space to grow.
You felt sweat pooling in between your shoulder blades from the hot day, very little breeze about to take the edge off. Your hands and knees ached from the awkward angle you’d been supporting yourself at, fingers sore from their constant use. But King Turgon liked his gardens to be immaculate and as his head gardener, you would go through any amount of discomfort to ensure that.
You frowned as you took in the flowers closest to the path. They’d been trampled somewhat but were somehow still alive. You shifted though them to see how much was salvageable.
But the sound of approaching footsteps drew your focus away from your work. Looking up, you spotted Idril making her way towards you, hanging onto the arm of Tuor, a human that had recently arrived to the city. To you, he looked much like his father, except maybe a little taller. But where Huor had been clean shaven, Tuor sprouted stubble on his jaw. Never the less, you found him extremely appealing, having developed a crush in him in recent months.
Idril was the only person you’d confided in about your feelings. Since the two of you were around the same age, you’d forged an unlikely friendship; the princess and the gardener. Perhaps she was planning to introduce the two of you? You’d seen her going to sit next to him at meal times often, possibly putting in a good word for you here and there. You only wished she’d chosen a better time for such a meeting. You were looking rather dishevelled, hair tied back messily so it didn’t inter fear with your work, rather sweaty and covered in soil from your labour.
But to your surprise, Idril said nothing as the couple approached. You lifted your head and smiled at them, only for the princess to look away and make to walk on past as if you weren’t even there. She clutched at Tuor’s arm tighter but to everyone’s surprise, it was he who addressed you.
“Y/N!” He smiled when he met your eyes, looking down at you where you still kneeled on the floor. “What a coincidence! How are you on this fine day? Is the garden treating you well?”
You stared up at him for a moment, somewhat starstruck. You saw Idril send him a look, and then you before she schooled her expression into a smile.
“Evidently it’s not, dear Tuor, by the dirt on their clothes.” She forced out a laugh, making it quite plain she wanted the interaction with you to be over.
“There’s nothing wrong with a little dirt, it can’t be helped with a job like this. So Y/N, are you well?”
“…Oh yes…” You finally found your voice, giving the couple a nervous smile. “Quite well. The garden is treating me… well.” You pulled yourself to your feet, hastily trying to wipe down your clothing to get rid of the soil still on them.
Tuor let out a little chuckle at your actions and your heart fluttered at the sound. Idril made a quiet, polite amused sound as well. You turned to her and smiled.
“Are you well?” But it quickly dawned on you that you were in public, now was not the time to be informal. “princess?” You added on the end. She gave you a tight lipped smile.
“I’m great, thank you. Tuor and I were just on a lovely walk round the gardens.”
“Oh… oh right…” You smiled. But in reality your heart sank a little. Did Idril have feelings for him as well? She was a princess and had much more chance with Tuor than yourself. What’s more, they’d been on a walk together, you’d never been invited on such a thing. Did Tuor love her back?
“Well, we must be off!” Idril interrupted your train of thought. “There’s a lunch in a few minutes and we don’t want to be late!” Was it lunch time already?
“Thank you for reminding me! I tend to get carried away in my work at times…” You admitted.”
“Oh, you’re not invited. It’s a private lunch for the royal family and…” She squeezed Tuor’s arm and smiled up at him. “Their guests.”
You weren’t entirely sure what to say to that, so you just nodded, intending to get back to your work. After a brief pause, Idril turned to leave, tugging Tuor’s arm as she did. But he resisted.
“Well it was lovely to see you, Y/N.” He smiled. “Perhaps I could see you again soon?” Caught off guard, you blushed deeply, stuttering. Tuor’s smile only widened at that, finding your flustered state amusing. He waited patiently for your response, only for you to nod. “I bid you goodbye for now.”
And then he did something neither you or Idril expected. He released her arm in favour of taking your hand in his, paying the dirt under your fingernails no mind. Keeping his eyes on your face, he bent to press a kiss to your knuckles. The contact was only a moment but you felt the bristles of his stubble stretching at your fingers. You did your best not to squeak as he pulled away.
“Until next time.”
He offered Idril his arm once more and sent you a warm smile.
“Goodbye…” You breathed, amazed at what had just occurred. Despite the cultural differences between humans and elves, you knew there was some meaning behind his actions, you only hoped they were what you thought. But still, his intentions confused you. Did he like you back? And if he did, then what were his feelings towards Idril? For the moment, you put those questions to the back of your mind, continuing to work with a smile on your face as you marvelled at his actions over and over in your head.
Tuor smiled politely as Idril chattered away, dominating the conversation at the dining table. At the head of the table, Turgon listened on in silence as his daughter recounted the walk she and Tuor had taken, and of her plans to change the decorations in the east wing of the castle. As much as he tried to pay attention to the meal and company before him, his thoughts kept being dragged back to you.
You were always so shy and quiet around him, it was adorable and your infatuation with him was plain to see. At first he’d found it nothing more than flattering, glad to get at least some attention since he looked so different to all the other males in the city. But slowly, his own feelings for you had developed.
Although all elves were in touch with nature and the natural world, Tuor admired you greatly for it. For the way you spent your time and energy nourishing and caring for each plant, no detail left unnoticed. He admired the grace with which you handled them, your ability to bring them back when they were close to dying, and how you didn’t mind getting dirty to do it unlike the rest of the elves Tuor had met who’s worst nightmare would be a stain on their spotless attire.
He continued to admire you from afar for a while until he became sure of his feelings. He loved you. It wasn’t something he expected but it was in no doubt of it none the less. He made sure to see you as much as possible, each time lifting his mood considerably. He never left without a smile on his face, even today.
He would’ve stayed and spoken to you longer. He itched to get past your shy, flustered exterior but hadn’t the time, especially not with the princess tugging him in the opposite direction. Idril always seemed thoroughly against spending time with you in Tuor’s presence. It confused him greatly since he believed the two of you to be close.
It seemed she’d always find a way to appear and keep them apart, cutting more than one of your interactions short to drag Tuor away. While he’d first found the princess charming, if not a little clingy, his opinions of her were beginning to deteriorate.
She flirted with him at every opportunity, sometimes being subtle but other times more overt. Just as he had been with your own interest in him, Tuor was at first flattered by her behaviour and would politely smile any time she said anything suggestive. But now it seemed more of an annoyance to him. Where Idril attempted to be cute, he found her only snide and entitled. That seemed to be the best way to describe her, in Tuor’s mind. The longer time went on without him returning her interest, the bolder she’d become, evidently not wanting to take no for an answer.
But despite Idril, he knew where his heart truly was. As the months passed by, Tuor was more and more desperate to declare his love for you, but a multitude of questions held him back. The most important were the cultural differences between the two of you. Tuor didn’t know much about relationships among the elves, except such things were rarely discussed openly. But he did know that flowers were important.
Once or twice he’d seen younger elves walking about the city holding hands, elaborate flower crowns on each of their heads. While he didn’t know the exact meaning behind them, he reasoned they were a good place to start. And at the very least, you’d appreciate the gesture.
“…Isn’t that right, Tuor?”
His eyes snapped up to Idril as she spoke. He hadn’t been listening to a word, far too preoccupied with his planning. Still, he forced a smile.
“I’m sorry? You must forgive me, my mind was elsewhere for a moment…”
“I was saying we must go on another walk tomorrow through the gardens, we must enjoy the flowers in full bloom before summer ends, do you not think?” He sighed inwardly at the thought of spending yet another afternoon walking with her, having to put up with her not so subtle attempts at seduction. But he had no choice other than to accept, not wanting to be the one to deny the princess.
“As you wish.”
Tuor’s mood wasn’t entirely dampened by the prospect, he found. The smile on his face became more genuine as his thoughts drifted back to you. He was going to make you a flower crown as an offering when he asked for your hand. He already had a strong suspicion you’d say yes.
He sat for the remainder of lunch, mulling it over in his head. He wanted to use the flowers in the garden yet he knew you wouldn’t appreciate it if he plucked some, ruining your hard work. So instead he resolved to use the flowers on the balcony in his chambers. There was a large plant pot with several inside which should be more than enough for what he had planned.
Tuor excused himself as soon as was polite, much to the disappointment of Idril who was aiming to spend the afternoon with him as well. He made his way back to his chambers hastily, declining all invitations for meetings and talks so he could focus on the task ahead. But to his frustration, making you a flower crown turned out to be more difficult than he’d imagined.
He seated himself on the bench on his balcony, a small number of flowers in his lap as he tried in vein to link them together. He had no knowledge of the techniques used to make them so he settled for a simple chain. Yet he found every knot he tied and every notch he made in their stems seemed to break the flowers in two. They were so much more fragile than he’d anticipated, far too fiddly for his thick fingers. He growled quietly to himself when yet another flower broke in his hand.
The flowers were a deep purple colour, thin, long stems creating a little sea in the plant pot. It had been you to recommend the flowers to him when he’d first arrived. And he’d met you when you’d come in periodically to check on them. Each flower reminded him of you and Tuor could think of none better to make a crown from. Although that did make him feel bad for each one he broke, as if the flowers were laughing at him and saying ‘It’s not meant to be.’
It took all the flowers in the pot for Tuor to be able to string something together, but even then, when he linked the two ends into a loop, he knew it would be a little small for your head. He huffed to himself as he looked at it. It was rather pathetic, far from the elaborate crowns and headdresses he’d seen others wearing, but he had no other option. Hopefully you’d take pity on him and he could appeal to your better nature.
You were still in the gardens when Tuor came back to find you. Only this time you were trimming on of the hedges closer to the wall, balancing precariously on a stepladder. Tuor smiled as he approached you, footsteps sounding quietly on the grass as he came closer. You didn’t look up.
You let out a startled sound, evidently not having heard him approach. At the same time you foot a step backwards, losing your balance. If it wasn’t for Tuor’s quick reflexes, you would’ve found yourself in a heap on the floor. Instead you landed in his arms with a small ‘oof’.
It took you less than a moment to realise what had happened, and when you did your face immediately went bright red. You’d made such a fool of yourself, how could he ever love you now? But as well as that you couldn’t help but stop to think about how strong he was and how good it felt to be pressed against his chest. Yet it seemed embarrassment won out and you were almost paralysed with it.
Tuor however, seemed to find the situation funny. He let out a deep chuckle before lowering you to your feet. That only served to make you blush more.
“I thought elves were supposed to have excellent hearing? Yet it seems I can sneak up on you without even trying.”
“Yes, well…” You smoothed down your clothing as you tried to think of a reply, looking anywhere but his face. “I was very absorbed with my work.”
“And what wonderful work it is!” Tuor didn’t miss a beat. “But I wondered if you could spare me a moment of your time? I’m sure the bushes won’t grow too much in your absence…”
Although you tried not to show it, that sent you into a slight panic. Tuor wanted to spend time with you? Why? Perhaps he knew of your feelings for him and was going to reject you before you’d had the chance to act on them. It didn’t sit well with you and you fidgeted nervously as you replied.
“Er… that’s fine I think…”
“Good.” He smiled to you and held out his arm. You linked it with your own, much like you’d seen Idril doing that morning. Tuor said nothing else before setting off at a slow pace.
He’d thought for some time about the manner and place he should confess to you. He knew the flower crown was nothing to boast about so he wanted to choose somewhere private so neither of you would become embarrassed. So he chose an area in the western corner of the gardens where he knew there was a bench under the cover of some willow trees, private enough but also not too far away from the castle.
You shot him a questioning look as you approached but he only smiled at you in return
“…Why are we here?”
Tuor took your hand and brought you forward, thumbing over your knuckles for a moment before he reached inside his robes. There was a brief moment of hesitation on his face, and that only confused you further.
“I wanted to give you this. I know it’s not much but…” He trailed off as he produced the flower crow. It was a little squashed from being in his pocket and to him it looked even more pathetic than before. You however, were left speechless.
Flower crows were not a proposal, but they signalled a very definite intent of courtship. You remembered how your friends had often worn theirs proudly from prospective suitors, decked out in flowers and dancing around as if there was no weight on their shoulders. You often wished to join them, having spent more than one day being jealous. And now, receiving your own flower crown for the first time, you understood how they felt.
It didn’t matter that it was fragile and crooked, you were just amazed he was giving it to you at all; especially when Idril was showing such an obvious interest. Others would have laughed at the poor attempt but to you it was perfect. Despite this, Tuor took your silence as disappointment and perhaps rejection.
“… I know it’s not up to the usual standards of the eldar. I must confess I found the task very difficult but I hope you’ll accept it as a gift none the less…”
“Of course I accept!” You breathed, eyes going wide at the thought of upsetting him. At that, Tuor smiled and let out a breath of his own he didn’t know he’d been holding. His shoulders sagged as he relaxed.
“Then perhaps I could ask something of you in return?” You blinked up at him, heart beating a mile a minute. You knew what he was going to ask but it didn’t seem possible. “Would you allow me to court you?” Your breath caught in your throat and all you could do was splutter and nod, face still red.
Tuor laughed at your expression God, you were adorable. He took a tentative step forward and raised his hands to put the crown on your head. But to his horror, the minute it touched your hair, the chain broke, scattering the flowers on the floor.
Both of you looked down at them in shock for a moment. You found yourself glad Tuor had chosen such a private spot to confess to you. The breaking of such things were not taken lightly by elves, usually indicating the person who made the crown was untruthful in some way. But you ignored that belief entirely. Tuor was human, he had little practice in these sorts of things. He stared at he floor in silence, feeling not only disappointed but frustrated with himself for not producing something better.
“… it’s alright…” You smiled up at him, putting your nervousness to one side. “We can always make more, I’ll teach you how.” Swallowing thickly, you took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “There’s a nice spot in the northern gardens and I think the flowers would work well.”
“… But won’t you be upset?” He frowned at you. “You spend hours making sure the gardens look nice, I wouldn’t want to ruin that.”
“What are flowers for if not to spread joy to others?” You smiled. “Come on, I’ll show you.” Tuor found himself smiling back at you, feeling better than before. He offered out his hand, smile only widening as you took it.
You led him through to the north gardens down the path to a little meadow by a stream. On the banks of the stream there was a wide variety of colours, stems longer and thicker than the ones Tuor had used to make your crown. You sat yourself on the grass, pulling Tuor to sit down next to you.
A/N: It’s been so long that i have no idea what I’d planned for the end of this story - sorry!
23 notes · View notes
Sun and Stone 2/2
Sun and Stone is a comfort fic requested by@linasofia (get well soon!💙). The prompts were “water” and “vetekudde”. Hope you’ll like it!
Relationships: Thorin x Reader
Warnings: description of sickness
Part 1 | Part 2
The Tiny Khuzdul Dictionary:
Mesmel - jewel of all jewels
Maralmizi - I love you
Amrâlimê - my love
You don’t know how much time has passed but when you opened your eyes again, a pair of strong arms embraced you from behind and something very warm was pressed against your back. Your body greedily took in the warmth, demanding more. A sigh escaped your lips.
“It is me, Mesmel,” he murmured into your ear. “Let me warm you up.”
Finally you understood. It was Thorin who now lay behind your back, enveloping you in his unwavering warmth. You wondered how long he has been embracing you.
“We will win this battle together,” his low velvety voice soothed your heart. He called you something, mesmel, but you didn’t know that word. Whatever it meant, you couldn’t help but notice how tenderly he spoke it, how gently he embraced you. With your mind in a haze, you were unsure whether it was another feverish dream or a figment of your imagination. Whatever it was, you didn’t want it to disappear. You don’t remember how many times you dreamed of him embracing you this way, whispering into your ear, and now it was finally happening. Throughout the Quest and afterwards you and Thorin developed a form of friendship that became closer after the battle for Erebor. He was always respectful and protective towards you and he clearly cared for you in some way. Until that moment you were sure that it was simply a friendly fondness on his side. As for you, the affection you felt for him wasn’t platonic; it came straight from your heart. But he was a Dwarf, and a king, and you were a woman of Men. Having lived in Middle Earth for some time, you knew how hopeless your infatuation was, so you kept quiet. Until now.
As if acting of their own accord, your hands rested on his. Your dazed mind barely registered that his fingers intertwined with yours. You only remembered that, encouraged by this gesture, you cuddled into him as much as you could, somehow feeling his strength seeping into your body along with the warmth. That was when a new wave of chills passed through you.
“You are a fighter, do you hear me?” he continued, his words reverberating in his chest pressed against your back. “You need to get well. You have to… so you can see the waterfalls, the water glittering like liquid silver. And then you wanted to finish that book about the animals and plants of Erebor, remember? When you are well, we will sit on the grass, and you will feel the sun on your face again, under the topaz blue sky. Would you like it, mesmel?”
Now you were sure you were dreaming. Thorin was a Dwarf of few words and yet you kept on hearing his voice, the things he said, and the tones of hope that underlined his statement.
You squeezed his hand, as if to check that he was truly there, and nodded, feeling slightly dizzy. Were you imagining or were you feeling a bit warmer?
“Please, mesmel, do not let go. You are too precious to me. Maralmizi, Amrâlimê…” he placed a kiss on top of your head. None of those words meant anything to you, but the emotion that filled his voice when he said them, the low rumble in his chest and his arms tightening around you made your heart beat faster.
You thought that you heard a sigh before he continued.
“As soon as you are well, we will travel back to your green and sunny Shire, you have my word. I will take you back to the Old Forest. You are going to return to your little cottage on the banks of Brandywine, so you can sail your boat again, plant your herbs, watch them grow, and read your books when the evening comes. Just… get well, mesmel…” he murmured into your hair.
You could not believe your ears. Slowly you gathered your strength and turned around to face him. Thorin helped you as much as he could and then embraced you once more. In the light of a candle you saw the tense lines of his face contrasting with the softness of his gaze.
“Thorin?” you frowned. “You... want me… to leave?”
His eyelids closed for a moment. His throat bobbed. When he opened his eyes again, they were as dark as a stormy sky.
“I see that you are not happy. You miss your home, mesmel, do you not? It was selfish of me to try and keep you here.”
A rush of heat passed through your veins, but this time it wasn’t fever. It was not caused by the illness. In fact, you realized that somehow the chills were almost gone and you felt much less dizzy. Frantically you searched for his hand and clasped it with yours.
Your voice trembled when you said, “Thorin, please… Erebor... is my home now. I wish to stay here... by your side…”
“Do you not wish to return to Shire?” his eyes widened in surprise.
“But your sadness…” the frown on his forehead deepened.
“What does mesmel mean?” you asked, not ready to speak of your feelings, your mind in turmoil.
Thorin brought your hand to his chest and you felt how strong his heartbeat was under the fabric of his tunic.
“It means ‘jewel of all jewels’. Someone one holds very dear. Most precious,” he murmured, caressing your fingers slowly, clearly waiting for your reaction.
Emotions bloomed inside you like a bunch of colourful spring flowers as you pressed your forehead against his and said, “Then I’m no longer sad... mesmel.”
“Mesmelê,” a surprised smile brightened his face. “My jewel of all jewels. I want you to be happy.”
He brought your hand to his lips and gently kissed your fingertips. His mouth was softer than you imagined and his beard brushed gently against your skin. The sparks dancing in Thorin’s eyes and the glance you exchanged made you feel as if a great weight was suddenly lifted from your heart.
“I feel... very happy now,” you admitted, lowering your gaze, feeling slightly lightheaded.
“It warms my heart to hear it,” his fingers brushed against your pale cheek, “Will you allow me to fuss over you? You need to rest now. We will talk more later.”
The words between you, both the said and unsaid ones, the unspoken questions and long awaited answers had to wait. You felt giddy and exhausted at the same time, but you didn’t want to close your eyes yet in case everything that you just experienced, his lingering gaze, his mouth pressed against your fingertips, his hand against your cheek, would turn out to be a dream.
“Please… stay with me,” you whispered, clutching his hand.
“As you wish, mesmel,” he placed a soft kiss on your forehead.
You hummed happily, feeling Thorin’s warmth so close to you, the warmth that finally made your tired body drift off into the realm of dreams.
There was a knock on the door, but there was no answer. The knocking repeated. After a few moments of silence, the door creaked open and a dwarven head in a floppy-eared hat appeared in the doorway.
“Thorin, I brought the--” Bofur’s eyes widened at the sight in front of his eyes. You were peacefully dreaming in Thorin’s arms, your previously pale cheeks covered by a healthy blush. Thorin’s chest rose and fell slowly as he slept soundly, finally allowing himself to rest after a long and perilous night. You were holding each other in a tight embrace.
Bofur stifled a gasp, quickly returned to the corridor and closed the door behind him.
An elderly woman of Men stood in front of him, clad in black, her white hair gathered in a knot on top of her hair.
“So, where’s the patient?” she narrowed her eyes, seeing the sudden redness on the Dwarf’s cheeks and his puzzled expression.
“Mistress Anjara,” Bofur mumbled, gathering his wits. “The patient, y’see… She is resting now… Let us wait until she wakes up. How about a delicious breakfast?”
No one could say no to his disarming smile. And Bombur’s breakfast.
It was late morning when you woke up. Your fever disappeared for now, but you knew it would take a few days before you would feel better. Thorin ordered breakfast to your room and as you waited, you asked him whether anything interesting happened on the day before.
“Dori reminded us that the Feast of Midsummer will soon be upon us. He insists on flower garlands in the Main Hall! I can barely tell the difference between thistle and nettle, and something tells me neither of them would be a good choice, would it?”
You chuckled faintly, imagining garlands made of these plants adorning Erebor during the feast.
“You need… cornflowers,” you took a breath and opened your eyes, once again meeting the bright blue pools of his gaze, “red clover and white clover, ... yarrow and bird's-foot trefoil... ground-ivy and oxeye daisy, and…” you coughed.
Thorin’s hand ran through your hair, caressing your head after the coughing subsided.
“Try not to speak,” you heard his murmur, but you shook your head.
“It has to be seven of them…” you continued. “It’s important…”
“Ah, yes, I remember. Seven flowers for… happiness. Will you do me the honor of gathering them with me when the time comes?” he asked quietly, a small spark igniting in his gaze.
Your heart fluttered in your chest. Blinking a few times, you looked back at him, not believing his words. Back in your homeland, your grandmother told you about a very old custom of your people. If someone offered to gather the seven flowers for a midsummer wreath with you, it meant that they were romantically interested in you. Was it possible that similar customs existed in Middle Earth?
“Would you… do you mean it?” you asked in surprise. One look at Thorin’s face confirmed your suspicions. He clearly knew of the custom, and nodded.
“I am aware that the traditions of Men are different in the matters of the heart from the dwarven ones. We do not wait to speak of our feelings if we see they may be reciprocated,” he took a deep breath. “Maralmizi, Amrâlimê. I love you with all my heart. I have felt this way since that evening at Beorn’s home when we were stargazing. Then I realized you are like one of the glittering stars in the sky, like a unique precious jewel. One of a kind. I only wish I spoke of it sooner… I wish to court you, mesmel, if you allow me,” he looked deeply into your eyes and in his gaze you saw everything that he didn’t put into words, the flame of his feelings burning for you steadily.
Your foreheads were touching again and you brushed your nose against his. Somehow you knew you would get better soon, watched over by Thorin’s loving gaze. Soon, happy days under the sun awaited you, along with long summer evenings under the stars and cozy winter afternoons before a crackling fireplace, with Thorin beside you, the Dwarf that found his way to your heart and stayed there for good.
“I agree. Jag älskar dig, Thorin. I love you,” these simple words were enough. Everything else could wait.
And then you kissed for the first time.
~~THE END ~~
Part 1 | Part 2
Let me know how you liked this story!
Thank you so much for all your likes and reblogs, it fuels my creativity and wants me to write more. You are wonderful! 💙
Taglist: @fizzyxcustard @reblogunderthemountain @shrimpsthings @dark-angel-is-back @sherala007 @amelia307 @anyaspidergirl-blog @justfollowtheroad @jotink78 @rachel1959 @saltwater-in-the-afternoon @linasofia @xmly-xo @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @yourqueenunderthemountain @guardianofrivendell @nelleedraws
73 notes · View notes
Celebrimbor and pregnant!Reader would include:
Requested by: Anon
Celebrimbor has a long history of repressing his emotions so when you tell him you’re pregnant, his first reaction is to immediately break down crying
It’s a shock to both of you and you end up being the one to comfort him instead of the other way around
It’s not a negative reaction though, make no mistake. He’s just bad at expressing how he feels and completely overwhelmed with emotion (mostly joy, don’t worry!)
His crying fit will pass quickly through and afterwards, he’s completely extratic and hugging you almost too tightly
It’s really not something he expected to happen so he needs some time to wrap his head around the situation
During your pregnancy, Celebrimbor is extremely doting - even more than he was before. And twice as protective too
The more you start to show, the less you’re allowed to do. If you try something even remotely strenuous, he’ll have a heart attack
It’s likely he’ll secretly ask your servants to keep an extra eye on you, just to make sure everything is going well
He insists on weekly check ups with a healer too, even though that many times is unnecessary
While Celebrimbor is overjoyed, he’s also terrified about the prospect of becoming a father. Curufin wasn’t the greatest to him and he fears he’ll be much the same way.
It’ll take lot of reassurance to get him feeling confident about it and before long he looks at Curufin as a blueprint on how NOT to behave and that makes him all the more sure-footed
His family legacy haunts Celebirmbor at the best of times but it plays on his mind all the more when he knows he’ll have an heir
He’s terrified that his child would face rejection or mistreatment because of the crimes of his family, having experienced similar himself before
He tries not to burden you with those fears though and does all he can to make you happy
Mood swings though, he finds difficult to deal with. Celebrimbor is secretly rather sensitive so if you say anything mean or snap at him, it’ll hurt even if he tries to convince himself you didn’t mean it
Cravings though? Celebrimbor has endless patience and will happily wake up in the middle of the night and make you food himself, not wanting to bother the cook
48 notes · View notes
Hi hun! So, on my other blog, I'm sure you saw me rambling about my idea for the Character x Seamstress S/O fanfics. I wanted to get your opinion on something when you find the time.
You know how you always used to write those "Which Lotr Character would most enjoy a cottagecore s/o" requests for me? Could you please do one of those with a Seamstress s/o? Like which Lotr and The Hobbit Characters would most appreciate a seamstress girlfriend? Thank you kindly, and I hope you're doing well hun!!
Here you are love! I hope you enjoy. I have your other ask, and i promise i'm getting to it, but I might have to do it during the weekend since it's the last two days of classes and everything's being a bit rushed.
Eomer would be head over heels for a cute seamstress s/o! You can bet that he would start commissioning clothing he doesn't need, or intentionally tearing tunic or trousers just so that he could stop by and visit them. I feel like he's the type of person who would start brining little things like treats or flowers whenever he comes visiting. When he's made King of Rohan, he wears some traditional armor that has been passed down through generations, but also commissions the rest of his garb to be made by his s/o, likely with a love confession to follow.
Faramir would 100% appreciate a seamstress s/o, especially since he knows a thing or two about sewing himself. I can totally see him allowing his s/o to see his late-mother's wardrobe, so that she could study the different patterns and fashions of Gondor nobility, and Faramir would totally gift her her favorite of the dresses and robes. This is going out on a limb here, but since Faramir mentioned in lotr that his clothes as a boy never fit him, i can see that continuing on to his adulthood. Like perhaps his tunic is always just a bit too tight, or something of the sort. When the seamstress takes his measurements and creates clothing that finally fits, he could have married her on the spot.
Dirty rugged ranger man would very much love a seamstress s/o. He knows how to sew himself, but without much neatness or grace, and being the ranger that he is, is always having to fix tears and holes in his clothes. When his seamstress s/o comes along, he's ever so thankful that she really knows her stuff, and can make the holes and such almost look like they were never there in the first place. He also starts relying on her to help him with court fashion and 'the noble look' after he becomes king, because she knows whats hot and what's not.
Bard would love her character, first and foremost, but, he also very much loves her for how helpful she is. With three children, clothing is always getting torn up, and new clothes are needed every few months or so, especially when his kids go through growth-spurts. All of his children would love her, especially little Tilda, since his s/o starts making little dresses and coats for her dolls from scrap fabrics. But also, have you seen the state of that man's coat? Yeah, his seamstress s/o wouldn't stand for that. She'll either refurbish it so that it looks good as new, or she'll create a whole other new coat for him, that'll keep him even warmer out in the winter. He loves her with all his heart, and never fails to bring home new and beautiful threads from the markets for her work.
My main dwarf Fili. Okay, so he would absolutely adore his seamstress s/o, and being the crown prince of the richest kingdom in middle earth, would 100% order and bring in nothing but the finest fabrics, silks, and furs for her work. She'd learn a whole lot about dwarven fashion and clothing while there, especially how golden thread can be spun into cloth, and how jewels and precious gems are often threaded onto robes. I feel like their first meeting would be her taking his measurements for a commission Thorin asked her to do, and while she's getting a bit blushy at taking the inseam measurements, Fili starts being Fili and makes a few suggestive, but not offensive jokes. It be so cute to see them interacting.
This hobbit would be head over heels, because, FINALLY, someone he can talk to about sewing and embroidering clothing. Hobbits have lots of wonderful colors and patterns in their outfits, and I feel like a seamstress would really appreciate all the different styles hobbits have. She would also appreciate the depth at which Bilbo is able to talk about them. He loves commissioning clothing from her, because "There's no one in Hobbiton who comes even remotely close to your skill and dedication. I hardly think I could trust someone else with making my clothes now." It's all very sweet.
33 notes · View notes
LOTR/ The Hobbit Incorrect Quotes #26
Eowyn: “Are you and Aragorn dating dating? Or are you just talking?”
Arwen: “If I kill you, are you dead dead? Or just not breathing?”
84 notes · View notes
Sun and Stone 1/2
Sun and Stone is a comfort fic requested by @linasofia (get well soon!💙). The prompts were “water” and “vetekudde”.
Hope you’ll like it!
Relationships: Thorin x Reader
Warnings: description of sickness
Part 1 | Part 2
You were hot. And sweaty. And it was unbelievably hard to your eyes. Your nose was stuffed and taking each breath took forever. This is when you realized you were sick as a puppy. Damn your bad luck. Today Thorin was supposed to show you the legendary waterfalls of Erebor!
You groaned and tried to sit up. Your joints ached in protest, so you only managed to lift your head a bit.
A coughing fit shook your body.
You fell back on your pillow and closed your eyes in exhaustion.
Thorin paced impatiently back and forth in front of the door to your chambers. Your seat at breakfast was empty, none of the Company knew where you were, and it worried him more that he was ready to admit to himself. It was going to be an important day. Straight after the meal he was supposed to take you to one of the most beautiful places in Erebor. As far as he knew, you were to be the only human to see the beauty of the Silver Fountains of Erebor, as the underground waterfalls were called. No member of the race of Men was worthy enough to see it, except you.
Why? It was you who joined the Company as they traveled through Old Forest, leaving your life behind. Thorin didn’t know that this was a fairly new life after you magically appeared in Middle Earth on a stormy night sometime earlier, leaving the modern world behind. All that mattered for him was that it was you who turned out to be of great help along the way with your keen senses, great tracking skills and knowledge of herbs and healing. Even though in the beginning Thorin was distrustful of you, he slowly changed his mind along the way, seeing how you quickly patched up everyone after the unfortunate meeting with the trolls and the subsequent fights with goblins and orcs; how you were an asset rather than a burden, always swift on your feet, never complaining, always observant. It was you who so many times warned them about incoming danger or chose the best paths for the ponies. It was your face that he saw every evening after he closed his eyes, dreaming of seeing it every morning beside him. It was your soothing voice that helped him find peace when the terrors of the past tore at his soul. It was your wit that made him want to listen to you for hours; and your laughter made him want to offer you the brightest star from the sky each time you looked at him.
It was you who stood by his side when the dragon sickness struck, helping him regain sanity. It was you who nursed him to health, spending days and nights by his bedside, not letting him succumb to his grave wounds, not allowing him to give up. It was your cool hand on his burning forehead that made him find the strength to return to the world of living.
And it was you who found your way to Thorin’s heart and stayed there for good before he even realized it.
Months have passed since Erebor had been reclaimed, and now the dwarven kingdom was being rebuilt. Thorin tried to keep you occupied by various tasks, and you gladly fulfilled them, and yet he couldn’t help but notice how your eyes would often travel towards east, as if trying to pierce the Misty Mountains and see the lands beyond it. Whenever he saw you do it, whenever he saw melancholy in your gaze and features, something in his chest clenched. Were you thinking of returning to the place the Company found you at? To the green gables and rolling hills of Shire? To the glittering waters of Brandywine? You were a creature of the sun, unlike the dwarves carved of cold stone by Mahal, he knew that very well. Were you missing the flowers, the meadows, the feeling of wind on your face, the sound of rustling leaves? He could offer you everything gold could buy, but not this. Were you to leave his underground kingdom soon, never to be seen again?
Something clenched in Thorin’s chest again as he continued pacing by your door. You were supposed to meet an hour ago, and he would show you the hidden beauty of Erebor, and he would tell you how you were needed here, how much he needed you here, and he would tell you how much he…
Thorin shook his head, stopped in front of your door, and knocked.
Only silence responded to him.
He knocked again. There was no answer.
“My lady… Are you there, my lady?” his voice echoed in the corridor. “Are you well?”
Silence. Silence, and then…
As soon as he heard you, his eyes widened. No, it couldn’t be! Some of the Dwarves were recently complaining about a light cold that had been bothering them. Dwalin had been having huge sneezing fits that made it impossible for him to train, Ori’s nose was swollen and red, looking more like a tomato than anything else, Bombur had completely lost his appetite, and Gloin complained at being constantly tired and mostly slept all day. Was it possible that you caught the same bug as the Dwarves?
Trying to ignore the cold ball of worry growing in his stomach, Thorin knocked again.
“My lady, I need to come in and see how you are faring.”
Only a faint groan reached his ears.
He opened the door quickly and entered your room. As he approached your bed, he saw the pearls of sweat on your forehead, your face darkened by an unhealthy flush, your eyes shining with fever.
“Thorin…” you whispered through parched lips. Your eyes slowly focused on his handsome face, on the elegant line of his nose, on the small frown-lines between his eyebrows, and on the brilliant blue eyes that rested on you. His gaze always made you think of a clear mountain stream in spring and there was something reassuring in the way he looked at you, the same way he had looked at you after rescuing you from the strong currents of River Running after you escaped from Thranduil’s domain in barrels. You still remember how he held you close at the riverbank, muttering some words in khuzdul, before he finally let go of you. You still remember how warm his embrace was on that day.
“My lady?” his low voice reached you. You knew he was close but somehow it sounded as if Thorin’s words came from far away.
At some point during the early hours of morning, you had pushed your quilt to the side, feeling too hot, oblivious to the fact that you were only wearing your night dress. Modestly averting his gaze, Thorin pulled the quilt over you, making sure you were covered well. He sat down at the edge of the bed and placed his hand on your forehead, feeling how warm it was. Too warm for someone of Men. This temperature would be perfectly normal for a Dwarf, but not for you. It was clear that you were running a high fever.
He brushed away a few stray locks from your face and said, “I will call for Óin, you need to be examined. Do not worry, my lady. It is possible that you caught the cold, like the others. Óin says it passes on its own after a week.”
Thorin stood up and smiled at you encouragingly, trying not to show you how worried he felt. None of the Dwarves suffered from such strong symptoms.
“Thorin, wait…” you mumbled, feeling how sore your throat was.
“What is it?”
“Water… please?” you croaked, closing your eyes in exhaustion. When you opened them again, he was beside you, helping you to sit up and propping up the pillows behind your back. Soon, a mug filled with pleasantly cool water touched your lips and you greedily drank everything.
“Better now?” He raised one of his eyebrows.
“Thank you,” you whispered. It was slightly easier to talk now. “I’m sorry... I didn’t make it today. I...”
A series of coughs shook you before you were able to finish the sentence, and you fell on the pillows, closing your eyes.
“Do not speak any more, my lady. You need to conserve your strength now. Please rest, and I will bring Óin to see you,” now, his velvety voice sounded as if he was sitting very close to you and whispering straight into your ear.
When you opened your eyes, Thorin was gone. With a sigh, you closed your eyes once more and let yourself drift off to sleep.
You didn’t know when Thorin returned; plagued by feverish dreams, you didn’t even notice when Óin examined you. And you didn’t hear the tone of concern in their whispers afterwards.
“If this is the same cold, why does it afflict her so?” Thorin demanded.
“She is of Men, Thorin. Dwarves are more sturdy, more resilient. I do not know how hard this ailment is going to afflict her,” Óin glanced at you quickly.
“There must be something we could do to help her!” Thorin grunted.
“Her body is fighting. It is a good sign. I will leave my apprentice with her, day and night, along with some poultices and herbs. Estrid will know what to do and she will send for me if it gets any worse.”
Thorin looked at your unmoving figure in bed, gritting his teeth. He would prefer facing a horde of orcs than this. He could face them with his sharp blade and fight his way through the enemy ranks, but this… this was your battle to win. He could only stand by and watch.
And so Thorin stayed with you until Estrid came and made you drink your medicine, while you barely noticed the surroundings. At one point during the day, a messenger came, calling Thorin away to his duties; there was an urgent matter in the forges that needed looking into.
When the king of Erebor finally returned to your bedchamber, it was evening and you were fast asleep. Thorin looked at your pale but peaceful face and had to stop himself from reaching out and caressing your cheek, as if it could have helped somehow. Estrid said you refused to eat, asking only for water. It worried him. How were you supposed to fight this sickness if you didn’t have enough strength? He wanted to sit down next to you, hold your hand and whisper your name letting you know that he was there for you, hoping that you would open your eyes and grace him with that special soft smile as you sometimes did. With Óin’s apprentice in the room however, it was not possible, not proper. He could only sit beside your bed for some time, watching your breathing, and then leave at midnight, when Estrid politely but firmly asked him to get some sleep. The last thing he saw before leaving your bedchamber was your face, still as pale as the bedsheets, your body as frail as if it were made of porcelain.
Thorin didn’t manage to sleep long, his thoughts constantly running back to you. A loud knock on his door and several words spoken by a messenger made him wake up at once. He hurried to your chambers as fast as he could; Estrid was there, trying to put a compress over your forehead.
“Why is itt… sssso cold…?” you whimpered, shaking the piece of cloth off your head. You lay on your side, your face was covered with sweat, your hair unruly, your whole body shaking.
“Your majesty!” Estrid exclaimed, losing her usual professional composure, making him worry even more. “I’ve tried everything, the fever is still rising, and the lady doesn’t respond to the herbs at all.”
“Where is Óin?” Thorin closed the distance to the bed in two large strides.
“Master Óin went out to find some new herbs yesterday, something better suited for our lady here, he said. He is supposed to return around noon.”
“Send for another healer!” Thorin ordered, clenching his hand in a fist. There were many hours until noon.
“But your majesty… I don’t think there is another physician in Erebor who has knowledge of the ailments of Men,” she lowered her gaze apologetically.
“Then ask Bofur to fetch the best healer of Men in Dale! At once!” Of all the Dwarves, Bofur kept closest ties with the city of Men and would know where to turn for help. Thorin dismissed Estrid, not caring what time it was, nor how unusual the task was. Only you mattered now and he would do everything he could to make you feel better. He could not simply sit and wait for the unknown to happen; a storm raged in his heart, a storm of terror and uncertainty. But there was one thing he was certain of: he would do everything he could to help you, he refused to let you go.
Something clenched in his chest once again when he whispered your name, searching your face.
“T-thorin…?” you responded through chattering teeth, drawing your legs to your chest in an attempt to find some warmth.
“I am here, my lady,” he murmured with a comforting smile as he sat on the bed beside you and wrapped you in a thick fur, putting it on top of your quilt. When his hand covered yours, you sighed at the pleasant sensation. His calloused skin felt scorching hot against yours and yet you didn’t protest, clinging to the warmth he offered. Unfortunately that wasn’t enough, you still felt as if walking through a snowstorm that was unhurriedly reaching your heart. Opening your eyes slightly, you whispered, “V-vetekudde…”
Thorin frowned, not sure whether he heard you right. This was the word in your own language, the language you started teaching him in exchange for lessons of Khuzdul after Erebor was reclaimed. He was sure he heard it somewhere before… Kudde, a pillow, he remembered it well, you taught him that word when his battle wounds were slowly healing, too slowly for his taste, and you would pile up pillows behind his back for his comfort, to alleviate his foul mood. And vete… that was tougher, it was somehow related to bread… Yes! That was it!
He hurried to the door and called a servant, whispering some words to him. Before long a maid brought exactly what he asked for.
“Are you awake, my lady?” he spoke to you.
You felt cold, so very cold. As cold as when you felt after the Battle of Five Armies ended and you were kneeling on freezing ice above Thorin’s cool, unmoving body, snowflakes mixing with tears on your face.
But Thorin was unaware of where your mind wandered at that moment. He lifted the quilt slightly and placed a large and pleasantly warm pillow in your arms.
“Vad… W-what is it?” you mumbled, feeling a sudden rush of warmth that emanated from the soft object.
“Your vetekudde, your wheat pillow,” he replied, making sure you were well covered again. A wave of pleasant warmth spread through your body and your eyes fluttered close in relief.
Thorin waited for a few moments, hoping that you would drift off to sleep and the chills would subside, but the ailment had other plans.
“S-so c-cold...” you managed to mumble, curling up in a ball, hugging the pillow tight. Your head was spinning, you no longer knew where you were or how you got there, but the only thing you were sure of was… Thorin. Sitting beside you, he was like a beacon of light in darkness. Mustering all your strength, you slipped your shaking hand from under your covers and searched for his palm. Your fingers met his quickly, your cold, clammy skin against his warmth. And then both of his hands, not one, found each of your palms quickly, enveloping them in warmth.
“You will be warm soon, there is a new log in the hearth,” his deep voice seeped into your ear, anchoring you to the world around you, and yet your feverish mind was slowly drifting away into an unknown realm.
Thorin looked at you expectantly but not a word left your unusually pale lips. Only your chest rose and fell, taking shallow breaths.
“Stay with me,” he whispered, not knowing whether you heard him, squeezing your hands slightly.
“Fight with all your strength!” he urged you.
Thorin was a mighty king of the greatest dwarven kingdom and yet he found himself in the middle of the night pleading like a beggar. You had grown so close to him, and he admired you for your inner strength, for your generosity and kindness, for your wit and your heart, and he would not allow a sickness to take you from him. He whispered a prayer to Mahal, offering everything he could think of, offering himself, only to see you open your eyes once again. If it brought you back to health, he would fulfil your secret wish, the one you haven’t shared with him, the one he had guessed. You wanted to return to the green gables and rolling hills of Shire you seemed to miss so much, and he would give it to you, even if parting with you would bring him pain and loneliness.
Perhaps you were a creature of the sun and he was a creature of stone, but that stone was as hot as lava and your shaking body was in need of warmth. There was one more thing he could do to help.
Part 1 | Part 2
Let me know how you liked this story!
Read it? Like it? Reblog it!
Taglist: @reblogunderthemountain @fizzyxcustard @shrimpsthings
@linasofia @xmly-xo @bitter-sweet-farmgirl
@yourqueenunderthemountain @guardianofrivendell @nelleedraws
72 notes · View notes
“Linger” Elrohir x Reader Drabble, Lord of the Rings
You watch the young elven lord adjust the circlet on his head. He looks uncomfortable in the muted blue robes adorned with such designs as to befit one of his standing. You smile to yourself, comparing his manner to that of the previous week, out in the wild when he was but arrayed in traveler’s clothes and astride a liver chestnut mare. He was joyous then, aglow with the mirth elvenkind is so infamous for.
Indeed this son of Elrond is not much like his elder brother, though the twins share many similarities. Both lighthearted and bold, cursed with adventerous spirits. Yet under the confines of Imladris, Elladan blossoms into the peaceful life while Elrohir finds none until his feet breach the threshold of the stables.
Perhaps that was what endeared the younger to you, leading you to linger in your business here. You have not lived many seasons yourself, but ambition served as a great ally in your short life, making you one of the leading horse breeders in the elven world. To meet another so devoted to the animal is always an interesting occasion. This time it also stirs the juvenile whims a handsome face can spark in an elleth.
Elrohir certainly is handsome, and what harm would it serve to remain in Imladris a while, build new connections, new clients? Another ride in the glade just beyond the sheltered valley, demonstrating the speed of your newly broken stallion; another evening under a green and blue sky painted with the first splattering of stars, hiding shy faces behind your horses’ shoulders, flirting with the care of one skipping stones across the still surface of the water.
6 notes · View notes
LOTR/The Hobbit Incorrect Quotes #25
Kili: “If your leg gets cut off, does it hurt?”
Fili: “Obviously, yes.”
Kili: “But where do you feel the pain?”
Fili: “In your le- ..........”
104 notes · View notes
Thorin, Fili, Emma and the Unusual Arrangement - Part 9
[Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8]
This tale is for 18+ readers only.
If smut, angst, fluff, backdoor entry, oral (m&f receiving), and threesome offend you, do NOT read below the cut!!!
In this Alternate Universe Hobbit tale, Thorin and Company find an injured Dwarrowdam in the wild who is alone. They take her into the company and heal her, insisting that she stay with them so she stays safe. During the quest, Thorin, Fili and the Dwarrowdam find themselves in an unusual arrangement out of necessity and by the will of the Dwarven god, Mahal. What is the unusual arrangement? Will the arrangement work out? Will the line of Durin survive the Quest and reclaim Erebor?
(I do not claim ownership of any of Tolkien’s characters, languages or places, nor do I claim ownership of Tauriel’s character. )
Sitting there in the cold bathwater you try to relax. You just end up crying and doze off for a bit. The sound of someone knocking wakes you. “Sweetheart, I know you’re in there. Please, let me in so we can talk and work out whatever is bothering you.” You hear Thorin say quietly. You don’t move, and hear him sigh and walk away. The voices from the dining room can faintly be heard and you cry quietly some more. You wish now, that you had your own room and weren’t sharing it with Thorin and Fili.
You are hungry, but aren’t in the mood to eat with the other Dwarves, so you quietly climb out, and pull some travel food from your pack and wrap up in a towel. Pouring yourself a cup of water, you take it and your food and sit on the footstool to eat. As you finish eating, you sit there quietly and drink your water, wondering what to do now. You don’t want to face Thorin and Fili and the other Dwarves yet. You’re tired and you’re still sore ‘down there’, so you shrug off the towel, take your cup and bring it back over to the pitcher of water, and climb back into the tub.
You had just gotten settled, when there’s another knock on the door and Fili’s voice is heard calling for you. You freeze an do not give an answer. Hearing him sigh also and his footsteps walking away, you again, cry quietly. Frustrated that they won’t leave you alone, and that they are too dense to understand what’s upset you, you cry hard. Once you’ve cried yourself out, you lay your head back on the edge of the tub and just try to relax and rest. You hear some Dwarrow talking quietly outside and ignore them.
Another knock disturbs your rest, and you hear Thorin’s voice again asking you to let him in so he can talk with you. You lift your head to look, then sigh quietly and turn your head and gaze at his pack and Fili’s sitting by the bed. A few tears trickle down your cheeks and you wonder if you should set them outside the door. But then you wonder what kind of message it would send to the rest of the company and decide against it. You hear Thorin sigh and Balin’s voice say something and footsteps are heard heading away from the door. You lean your head back and sigh.
You know they are getting worried about you and apparently, Fili and Thorin don’t understand why you’re upset. You pray and ask Mahal for help. You just feel out of sorts, and you need them to understand that they need to be willing to take what they give, or this won’t work.” You sigh and cry quietly. You ache still so you kneel on the floor of the tub and start to massage your shoulder. It’s been giving you a dull ache all morning. Letting it sit below the water level, you gently try to rub it and massage it to ease the ache.
You shift positions and look at the door, while you massage other achy spots on your body and you cry quietly, your shoulders trembling as you do so. “Why are you feeling so miserable?” then you groan and realize it must be getting close to ‘that time of the month’ again. Sighing you decide to get out and dry off.
Once you’re dried, you put on one of your simple dresses from Arwen and wish you could write to her and talk with her. Sighing, you dump out your pack and re-organize it. Re-folding your clothing, and placing everything where it belongs. You look at your two weapons from Lord Elrond and sigh. Trying to figure out where to put them so they aren’t easily found. You remember the warning about Thranduril and are concerned about him or his Elves taking your belongings from you. Removing your boots, you slide them into your boot, so they were along the outer sides of your feet, you slip your feet in carefully so the back of the sheath rests against your foot and ankle. It’s not terribly uncomfortable. It shifts a little as you walk but nothing you can’t handle, so you sit and continue to go through and organize your things.
While you dig in your pack you find a belt and a necklace that weren’t in there before. You look at them closely and wonder where they came from. You notice a groove and follow it around the belt. You realize that on the back of the belt, the little leather straps holding the buckle on actually snaps into place there. Curious as to why someone would put snaps on to hold a belt buckle in place, you flip them open, and the buckle pulls out a little. Your eyes open wide when you realize it’s a little push dagger that is embedded in a hidden sheath at the end of the belt.
You grin, “Oh, Fili, you clever Dwarf!” you quietly say and put it back together. He must’ve made it when he was in Rivendell and slipped it into your bag at some point. Rolling up the belt, you set it with your travel clothes. Next you look at the necklace. It’s a huge gold claw that goes from one side of your collar bone to the other and has multiple fine, gold chains attached to small rings on either end of it. As you look at the intricate patterns worked into the gold of the claw, you realize there’s a thin seam, almost invisible. You place a hand on either side of it and pull in opposite directions gently. At first nothing happens. You tug a little harder and it opens, revealing a white, sharp, claw.
Your eyes open wide when you see Elvish engravings on it. You can’t read it, but you wonder if it’s enchanted or if they are just decorations. You caress the claw, and the engravings glow blue briefly then return to normal. You wonder how it got to be in your pack and who gave it to you. It wasn’t in there when you packed the night before leaving Rivendell. And it certainly wasn’t in there during the trip from Rivendell to here.
Pushing it back together, you hear a soft ‘click’ as it catches, and stays closed. Setting it with your travel clothing, you frown, still pondering where it came from. Next you pick up the flower pendant Lord Elrond gave you as a wedding gift. He had explained that if you take it off and whirl it fast enough it’s petals will open revealing sharp blades that you can use to hurt enemies. The force of you spinning it will trigger it to open, and once you slow the momentum, it will naturally close back up. He showed you how to manually open it to clean it and then reclose it. You thanked him for the ‘hidden weapon’ gift. He grinned and had given you a wink.
You caress it and sigh, grateful for his help in rescuing you and healing you. As you finish packing your things, you look around and frown, wondering what became of your sword and it’s sheath and harness. Your staff is leaning against the cabinet by the door, but you don’t see your sword, sheath and your throwing axes, you realize. You hope they didn’t get left behind in Rivendell.
Sighing, you hear another knock on the door and you groan. “Sweetheart, it’s Balin. May I come in?” he asks. You sigh and unlock the door, cracking it open a little. “What is it, Balin?” you ask tiredly, wishing you had some way to just let the Dwarrow know to just leave you alone. Balin sees how tired you look and your red-rimmed eyes. “Sweetheart, everyone concerned about you. Here, I have some tea and breakfast for you that Bombur saved for you.” He offers, holding up the tray. You sigh and let him enter, stepping aside.
Balin comes in and sees your pack open on the floor and looks up at you worriedly. You close the door and go to sit on the footrest next to the pack. “Don’t worry, Balin,” you say tiredly, seeing the worried look on his face. “…I’m not planning on going anywhere. I was just organizing my things and seeing what I’ll need for the next leg of the journey.” You say quietly and fiddle with a strap on the pack.
Balin sets the tray down on the high dresser and sits on the chair near you. “Lass, what’s going on with you, Fili and Thorin?” he asks. You sigh. “I’m just feeling out of sorts this morning, and was tired of them bringing me near to climax and then they’d back off and not let me cum. So, I gave them a taste of their own medicine and they got upset.” You explain. Balin frowns, “How so, Lass?” he inquires.
Sighing, you explain, “Thorin had shown Fili how to do that to me when we first started training him, and he used it often yesterday, not letting me cum, so he could keep exploring what pleasured me. I didn’t complain because it was his training time and he needed the practice, but it was getting tiring and annoying when he kept doing it once his training was done.
They used it last night and this morning. I guess I’ve just had enough sex for a while and after Thorin got upset with me for turning the tables on them, not letting them cum a few times, when they got close a couple times, after I tried to explain that, like them, I can also return the favor and stop them from cumming or even moving inside me whenever I want if it’s getting to be too much for me and that there’s nothing they can do but wait till I’m ready. He didn’t like that apparently and reprimanded me and smacked me on the ass like I was an insolent pebble instead of his Wife.
I let them finish and once they were done, I got up and locked myself in the bathroom, having had enough of sex and the two of them for a while, and just needed to be alone.” You explain.
“Ahhh, I see.” Balin says rubbing his chin. “Lass, what did you mean by you ‘can stop them from cumming or even moving inside you’?” he asks. You sigh, “Part of the training my Mother gave me for my ‘coming-of-age’ was learning to control my muscles ‘down there’ to do different things. One thing she taught me was to clench a male’s member hard enough to stop them from moving or cumming. She had been raped as a young Dam and never told anyone but me. After that raping, she swore to teach herself to do this so no one ever again could have that kind of control over her. It took her years to perfect it, but she did and often used it to keep my Father in like when he got too much for Amad.
She taught it to me as well, so I’d have some sense of control and not let a Dwarf do things to me that I didn’t like or want. I’ve never had to use it during sex though until now. I’m still learning to control it when I climax though. Sometimes I get kind of lost in the moment and forget how hard I’m clamping down on them and they have to remind me to relax a little. But I don’t do that on purpose. Amad showed me how to do it consciously using a special tool that she made. I got so good at it that I can do it without even thinking about it anymore if I have to.” You explain.
“She told me that it can be used to give a Dwarf pleasure while having sex, but it can also be used to stop him during sex if I felt I needed him to stop.” You explain.
Balin chuckles. “That’s quite a feat, Lass. I’ve not heard of anyone doing that before!” he says. “Is that how you and Fili beat my Brother’s record?” he asks. You giggle and shake your head. “No. It seems that I can just be made to cum back-to-back repeatedly if they keep thrusting after I cum the first time.” you giggle. Balin chuckles. “Lucky them!” he says with a wink. You nod.
You sigh. “Like I said, Balin, I just feel annoyed with them that they won’t take what they give, and get mad at me like that. I’m also moody because I think my ‘bleeding time’ will be arriving soon and I’m worried about us getting captured by Thranduril’s Elves in the forest. I don’t want them to take my pack and weapons away, as I need them, especially my pack if I get my ‘bleeding time’ while we are in the forest.” You explain.
Balin sighs. “If we do get captured, Lass, do NOT let anyone know you are Thorin’s Wife. If anyone asks, tell them you are Fili’s One. Stick with Fili if you can. If Thranduril finds out you are Thorin’s Wife, he might try to use you to get whatever he wants from Thorin. Thorin’s Grandfather and Father angered Thrandy and they’ve had a grudge against each other ever since.
If we are separated from each other, just stay put if you can and we’ll try to find you before we leave. If they take your things, we can always replace them with other things when we get the mountain back. You sigh, “Balin, you won’t be able to replace some of this. I found this in my pack as I was organizing. I don’t know where it came from or who gave it to me, but I don’t think this would be easily replaced. You say, showing him the gold claw necklace.
Balin’s eyes open wide. “Let me see that!” he exclaims. You show it to him, and he looks at it. It’s a dragon’s claw encased in gold! You show him how it opens, and his eyes open even wider seeing the pale claw and the glowing blue runes carved into it when your finger touches the white claw. “Lass, this is a claw from an ice Dragon, a Cold-Drake! They are extinct now! It is one of the few things that can harm a fire drake like Smaug!” he exclaims, “It will freeze anything it cuts or touches. Be it living or not! Though, it won’t kill Smaug, unless you can get it under one of his scales and into his flesh, it can cause his scales to freeze and be easily broken off or removed!” Balin explains.
“These runes here say that it was taken from the front claw of the last ice Drake! It grants the owner of the weapon immunity from it’s effects which means it can’t be used against you and won’t freeze you if you are cut or stabbed with it. It glowing blue, when you touched it means it recognizes you as it’s true owner. If it is touched by someone it does not deem to be it’s owner the runes will glow red in warning.” He explains.
“Balin, how did this get in my pack?” you ask. It wasn’t in there when I left Rivendell and wasn’t in there when I’d dig around in it during our journeying between Rivendell and here!!!” you exclaim. “My guess is Elrond gave it to either Fili or Thorin and the blade rejected them as it’s owner. It is said that the person who killed the last ice Drake was a woman. So perhaps it only accepts females as it’s owners.” Balin explains.
“Keep this around your neck and do not let anyone remove it if you can. If the Elves try to remove it with the intent of stealing it from you, I suspect the blade will not be happy. Weapons made from any part of a Drake are finnicky and typically get upset when stolen from their owners. They have been known to affect the thief even through the sheath that it is kept in if they are enchanted like this one is!” he explains. “I pity any Elf who tries to remove this from your neck. If it angers the blade, that Elf will be immediately frozen and will perish.” He explains.
“No matter what happens, DO NOT surrender this to ANY of Thranduril’s Elves. NO MATTER WHAT!” Balin warns. Lord Elrond gave us this weapon for a reason. If anyone asks why you have it, you tell them it was a gift from Lord Elrond after he found you and healed your shoulder when you were attacked by goblins and wargs along the border of his lands. Alright?” Balin tells you. You nod. “You may need to show them your shoulder to get them to believe you. If you do, be careful they do not see your harnesses’ straps. Hopefully they will not feel them through your clothing. It may be wise to layer up your underclothes as much as possible not only to keep your harnesses hidden, but also so you have clothing if they take your pack and do not return it.” He tells you.
You sigh. “I wish there was another way through Mirkwood.” You say tiredly. “I’m tired of traveling. It’s been nice to just rest here and not have to worry about being attacked.” You say. “You do not have to come with us, Lass. We’ll understand if you wish to wait here for us to reclaim the mountain. Beorn would take good care of you.” Balin tells you.
“No, Balin, I need to stay with my Ones. I’m just needing a break from the intimacy for a while. I’m sore and ache all over from it. Between all the ‘practicing’ the past month and especially the day before yesterday and then yesterday, I guess I’ve had enough for a while.” You explain. “I understand, Sweetheart. It’s been hard on you. But know that we all are extremely grateful to you for agreeing to do this for Fili. Many of us had been praying to Mahal before you appeared, and we were asking him how Fili was going to be trained when Thorin has no mate and we have no female with us.” He explains to you.
You nod. “Oin said the same thing.” You reply. “I know you want to be alone, Sweetheart, but you need to talk with Thorin and Fili about how you are feeling. Locking yourself away only confuses and worries them and doesn’t help the situation at all. It’s alright for a short time if you are angry and need to cool down and think things through, but you need to not let it drag out like this. You need to let them in and talk about things that upset you, so they understand what they are doing that made you feel the way you do.” He encourages.
“Just remember, Sweetheart, they are just as inexperienced as you are. They won’t know unless you tell them clearly what things bother you and what pleases you. If you do not like them keeping you from climaxing that often, you need to just tell them clearly. If they are giving and not receiving the same back, bring it to their attention clearly. We can be rather dense sometimes. You may just have to beat it over their heads to get through… or hold them hostage till they listen.” Balin giggles and gives you a wink.
Sighing, you look down and nod. “Now, I’ll leave you to eat. Oin said to remind you to drink the tea first, then eat.” He says while standing. Balin pats your shoulder gently and says, “When you are ready to talk to them, come out and join us.” He says. You nod and fiddle with your fingers. “Balin?” you ask. He pauses his retreat to the door and turns to look at you. “Yes, Lass?” he replies. “Do you know where my sword and hand axes are? They aren’t with my things and I’m hoping they didn’t get left in Rivendell or lost along the way. The last time I remember seeing them was just before I was attacked by the goblins.” You say.
Balin chuckles, “Don’t worry Lass, my Brother has been keeping them safe for you. Oin won’t let him give them back until he’s fully convinced you’re fit for using them again.” He says. You sigh. “Please inform them both that I refuse to go any further unless they are returned to me. I will not enter that forest without them on me.” You tell him with a frown.
Balin chuckles and nods. “I will tell them, Lass.” He says. Then slips out and closes the door.
You sigh, drink the tea, then eat while you sit and think about what all was talked about. Getting up you pace back and forth in the room. The enchanted daggers shift in your boot and annoy you, so you grab some leather from Thorin’s pack and cut off some thin strips to make a strap to keep them in place in your boot. You slip off your boot and grab the sewing kit from your pack and you sew the straps into the inside of each boot, then slip the daggers’ sheathes back in and they finally stay put and you can comfortably walk with them hidden.
You decide to see if Dwalin will let you practice some sword fighting with him. You feel like you need to blow off some steam, still being annoyed with Thorin and Fili. Looking at what you’re wearing, you slip out of the dress, fold it up carefully and put it with your other dresses, then you put on the harnesses with all your hidden weapons, frowning that the pants and blouse Arwen’s Elves made you didn’t include the access panels. You groan and take a sharp knife and carefully cut into them to make it so you can access each one easily. Once you had that done, then you put the gold Dragon claw necklace on, you take the necklace from Lord Elrond and add it around your neck as well.
It hangs just under the dragon’s claw and has a quick magnetic release so you can just grab the chain and pull for quick use of it. Lord Elrond showed you how to hang onto it so that if it got wound around your enemy’s weapon, you could give it a hard yank and you’d be able to pull the weapon from the enemy’s hand, but if they tried to yank it from your hand, they’d not be able to. You were grateful for the lessons with the weapon. Thorin didn’t know about it as Elrond had his Sons convince Thorin to come and do some forging with them one afternoon.
You slip on the leather fingerless gloves Elrond gave you and the bracers from Elladan. They wanted you to have more leather armor, but when you explained about your hidden weapons stash, they understood why you had such little armor. Elrohir gave you some elegant throwing weapons that you could hide in your thick hair styles, and you grinned and thanked him. Remembering them, you dig around for them and then put your hair into a thick braided bun and pin in in place, then add your weapons into your hair. Grinning, you felt like you were ready.
Quietly, you open the door and peek out. Stepping out into the hallway, you don’t hear anyone. Silently as you can, you creep down the hall and peer around the corner and see no one in the house but the animals in the barn area. Walking over to them, you pet them and caress their heads. “Ahh, little female, there you are.” Beorn’s soft voice says from the corner of the barn. You startle a little, not having seen him there. You slowly walk over to see what he is doing. He is milking one of the cows.
“Are you rested enough now. They say you had a busy day yesterday.” He says softly. “Yes, it was a busy day. I am rested now. A little sore, but rested. Thank you for letting us use the tub. It helped soothe the aches and relax me.” You tell him. He chuckles. “You are welcome, little female.” He says. “Have you eaten?” he asks. You nod. “Yes, Balin brought me food and talked with me while I ate.” You tell him. “Thank you for letting us stay here and rest. I suppose we’ll be heading out soon though. It’s been nice to sleep in a bed and not have to worry about being attacked and hunted by Azog.” You tell him.
“You are always welcome here, little female. If you wish to stay here in safety and wait for your companions to reclaim their home and send for you when it is safe, you are welcome to remain behind. I will not harm you or force you. They say you are Thorin’s Wife but are also Fili’s One?” he asks. You nod. “How is that since I thought Dwarrow only mated to one Dwarf?” he asks. You shrug. “I am not sure why it happened, Beorn, Sir. Mahal just gave me, Fili and Thorin the same dream telling us that is what he did. He didn’t explain why to me, other than that through me the Dwarves would be blessed with peace and prosperity.” You explain.
Beorn nods. “I see you have a Dragon’s claw. Did you kill a Dragon for it?” he asks. “No, it was a gift from Lord Elrond.” You say. “He wanted me to be as safe on this journey as I could be.” You explain. Beorn nods. “Well, whatever you decide to do, little female, you will always be welcome here. If you arrive and I am not here, my animals will remember you and will make sure you have whatever you need.” He tells you, standing up and taking the enormous pitcher into his hand. You crane your neck up to him and thank him.
“Your travel companions are all outside enjoying the sun. It is a nice day today.” He tells you. “Would you like clean sheets on your bed?” he asks. You nod and thank him. “I will drain the tub and leave it there if you desire to use it again. I will leave water heating in the cauldron for you as well.” He offers. You thank him once more and head out into the sun.
Standing in the doorway, you blink several times as the bright light hurts your eyes. You hear a soft chuckle to your left and glance over seeing Balin and Dwalin sitting there. “My Brother tells me you are looking for these.” He says holding up your weapons. You nod. “I want to practice with them since I haven’t been able to for a while. I will not leave these walls unless they are on my back and at my hips.” You tell him. “So, unless you all wish to leave me behind, I expect my weapons be returned to me.” You say folding your arms and leaning on the door casing. Balin chuckles.
“Is that so?” Dwalin says with a smirk. You raise an eyebrow and nod. He tosses you the hand axes in their sheath and you catch them and fasten it to your waist. Then you resume your position. He smirks. “Does a certain Lass need to blow off some steam?” he inquires teasingly. You smirk and raise an eyebrow. “I wish to practice.” He chuckles and gets up. “Then ‘practice’ we shall.” And moves past you to go inside and get his weapons.
Balin gets up and chuckles. He sees your new clothing having all the holes in it. “What have you done with your new clothes, Lass?” he asks. You sigh, “Apparently the Elves didn’t realize why I had the holes in my old ones and did not put them in the new ones. I need to be able to access my weapons quickly and I can’t do that if there are not the holes in the clothing to do so. Tonight, I will have to cut the same holes in the rest of my clothing and use some of the fabric left to make patch covers for them, so it looks like the clothing is patched and not blatantly screaming ‘hidden weapons’ like it is now.” You explain.
Balin chuckles and nods. You feel someone behind you and your sword harness being leaned against your back. A pair of huge mitts come around and hook the strap onto you and you look up to see Dwalin grinning. “Ready for some ‘practice’ Lass?” he asks. “I’d have though ye’d have had yer fill of ‘practice’ by now.” He teases. You roll your eyes and elbow him making him grunt, then laugh.
“That’s enough of that kind of teasing, Sir. “THAT kind of ‘practice’ I’ve had enough of. I can hold those two hostage all day long if I wish and they’ll be at my mercy, begging to be released.” You tell him with a smirk and wink at Balin who’s roaring with laughter at the look on Dwalin’s face, which you can’t see. You step out of the doorway and swing your hip as you walk into the yard. As you do, you draw your sword and start to go through the motions of the practice routine you had been taught by your Father.
Dwalin watches you sauntering away and looks at his Brother, who’s laughing is ass off. “What the hell did she mean by that?!?” he asks. “You don’t want to know!” Balin tells him, still giggling. Dwalin shrugs and heads over to you to help you ‘practice’ your swordplay.
*More chapters to come. Feel free to leave comments, and to reblog.
*Let me know if you want to be added / deleted from my Thorin Oakenshield Tag list.
Tagging: @void-ace @xxbyimm @deepestfirefun @criminaly-supernatural @fizzyxcustard @legolaslovely @thewhiteladyofrohan @gossip-girl-of-middle-earth @talktothemoon2-blog @shutupthorin @thethorinoakenshieldsimp @thefanficmistress @dumbassunderthemountain @anki-of-beleriand @twobirdsonesong @thecurioussimmeruk
4 notes · View notes
Thorin, Fili, Emma and the Unusual Arrangement - Part 8
[Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7]
This tale is for 18+ readers only.
If smut, angst, fluff, backdoor entry, oral (m&f receiving), and threesome offend you, do NOT read below the cut!!!
In this Alternate Universe Hobbit tale, Thorin and Company find an injured Dwarrowdam in the wild who is alone. They take her into the company and heal her, insisting that she stay with them so she stays safe. During the quest, Thorin, Fili and the Dwarrowdam find themselves in an unusual arrangement out of necessity and by the will of the Dwarven god, Mahal. What is the unusual arrangement? Will the arrangement work out? Will the line of Durin survive the Quest and reclaim Erebor?
(I do not claim ownership of any of Tolkien’s characters, languages or places, nor do I claim ownership of Tauriel’s character. )
“Ready for the teasing?” Thorin asks them. Fili groans and you giggle. “Fili, you are not allowed to share any of this with Kili. Not until the night before he gets to experience his special ‘coming-of-age’ day.” Thorin tells him. Fili nods, knowing Kee won’t be happy about that. You giggle. “So, did it help having a sneak peek, Fee?” you tease. His eyes get wide and his jaw drops. “YOU KNEW?!?!” he exclaims.
You and Thorin just smirk and raise an eyebrow.
Fili’s face gets beet red. “It’s okay, Fee. You were going to see it all anyway.” You tell him. “Sorry, we were just curious. We didn’t mean to, but we stumbled on you two and I guess we just got kind of captivated by it.” He says bashfully. You giggle.
Thorin chuckles and opens the door. Balin stands and chuckles. “Done already?” he asks with a grin and a wink. “Oh, we’ve been done since, what, 1p.m.? We just decided to smash Dwalin’s record while we were at it.” You quip and see Balin’s jaw drop. He laughs and pats your hand. “You’re gonna give these two a run for their money, Lass!” he chuckles. You just grin and chuckle.
“So, what’s the new record for cumming with backdoor adventures?” Balin inquires, now curious. You three smirk. You pull Balin over and whisper. “25” and he roars laughing. “HOW???” he asks. You grin. “It helps when you can come back-to-back multiple times.” You reply with a smirk. Balin roars laughing. “Oh, Lass, you are a treasure! Dwalin will never let Fili live this down!” he tells you three. Fili just beams and holds your hand happily. “We were just having fun, Thorin was the one keeping track of how many times it ended up being!” you giggle. “We’d have kept going, but I was finally getting sore, so we stopped for a while.” You tell him.
Balin chuckles. “Oh, to be young again!” he quips and laughs. “Come on, let’s break the news to them and let them collect their bets.” He tells the three of you. You and Fili are giggling as you walk down the hallway. “Thank you, Em, for doing this for me.” Fili says quietly. He kisses your hand and grins. You give his hand a squeeze. “My pleasure.” You say with a smirk. He grins.
The company is all sitting around the table talking waiting for news of you and Fili from Balin. “So how much longer ya think they’ll be?” Bofur asks. “They’re done.” Balin says rounding the corner and stepping into the room. “May I present, Fili, son of Dis, an official adult Dwarrow.” He says with a grin and Fili comes out from behind you and Thorin and steps forward, red faced and grinning from ear to ear.
The Dwarves all cheer. “What took ya so long?” Bofur teases. “Oh, we were done by 1 p.m., but decided to see if we could beat Dwalin’s record since we were having so much fun…” Fili says with a smirk.
Dwalin raises an eyebrow. “Oh, Really??? And did they beat my record, Thorin?” he asks seeing the smirk on Thorin’s face. “Yup.” Is all he says. Dwalin’s jaw drops, “WHAT?!?” he asks. The rest of the company are all cackling. “SO, Fili, what’s the new record?” Nori asks, rubbing it in to Dwalin that his record has been beaten. Fili grins, “25” he says raising his head with a proud smirk. The company’s jaws all drop. “25?!?!?!” They all exclaim and look at you in awe.
You giggle. “It helps when you can cum back-to-back, multiple times.” You giggle, your face beet red. They all guffaw and come to congratulate you and Fili. Dwalin’s laughing and can’t believe you two beat his record. “You sure it was 25???” Dwalin asks Thorin. “Definitely.” He replies. “When Fee is having to repeatedly beg her to relax and let him cum cuz she’s gripping him so hard, I’d say it counts.” He whispers in Dwalin’s ear. Dwalin roars laughing and nods. “Okay, fair enough!” he replies with a chuckle.
While everyone’s pulling Fili over to the table to congratulate him and shower him with praise, Bilbo comes over quietly and hands Thorin a soft cushion. “For Em… to sit on. I’m sure she’s sore after all that.” He giggles. Thorin smiles. “Thank you Bilbo.” He says quietly and shows you over to the table. Thorin slips the cushion onto the bench and then has you sit on it. You let out a happy sigh when your derriere lands on something soft and you spread your skirt so no one can see it easily and you smirk and mouth ‘thank you’ to Bilbo. He grins and gives you a wink.
Oin chuckles and comes over and hands you some tea. You look puzzled. “It’s an extra dose since you were a bit more active than usual.” He explains. “We can’t take any chances until after things settle down in Erebor after it’s reclaimed, and the Dragon sickness is dealt with.” He whispers. “There’s also some pain relievers in it, and no, they won’t make you sleepy this time.” he informs you with a wink.” you nod.
You sip on the bitter tea, and must be making a face since Bilbo’s giggling and looking at you. Sighing, you chug it and hand Oin the cup. Thorin chuckles and you sit there leaning against Thorin, feeling glad that the training is over. You’re sore, and your entire body aches from all the positions Fili had you in. You grin at his creativity.
Watching the company sitting around bantering and demanding so and so pay up now that the event is over and it’s time for the losers to pay the winners. You giggle at the banter back and forth. You’re glad they aren’t picking on you too much. An occasional good-natured jab, but for the most part they show respect and leave you alone, grateful that you were willing to do this for Fili.
Thorin holds you in his arm, he can tell you’re tired. He hopes you’ll be up for a little more activity. It was hard for him to watch you being ravished by Fili all morning and most of the afternoon, he wanted to join in so badly, but knew he couldn’t. He was surprised it didn’t turn him on more. He wonders if it was just because he was more concerned about your safety and making sure Fili didn’t hurt you. In either case, he wants to join with you for a while, even if it’s just parking his member in you and holding you.
He holds your hand and nestles his fingers between yours. The two of you enjoy visiting with the others and before you know it, Bombur is putting supper on the table. You giggle at how hungry Fili is. He is eating like he was a starved Dwarf. “Slow down Fee, you’re gonna make yourself sick!” Kili tells him. “What? I’m hungry! I got my exercise in and now I’m starved!” he exclaims, and everyone cracks up laughing. “How come Em’s not eating like that then?” Kili asks. You giggle. “Cuz I just got to lie there and enjoy it. Fee had to do all the work!” and everyone roars laughing.
You grin and finish eating. “Well, I’m needing some rest after this busy day I’ve had.” You quip and move to stand. Thorin catches the cushion and tucks it against the table leg. “I’m going to retire for the night.” You tell them. You move to step away from the table. Thorin goes to get up, but you stop him. “I’ll be fine, Love. Spend some time with the company and don’t let them tease Fee too much. You both can come join me when you’re ready for some cuddles. I’m going to just have some quiet time, relax and soak in the tub for a bit longer and then lie down.” You tell him.
Thorin sighs. “Okay.” He replies quietly. You caress his weathered face gently. And give him a kiss. “I know what you want, Thorin. Just be patient. You’ll get it.” You promise. He kisses you back and you saunter off to the bedroom.
You stop in the bathroom to ‘empty out’ your ass, feeling incredibly full since Fili filled you almost non-stop all afternoon in there. You sat for a good five minutes rubbing your belly before you felt the pressure decrease and the cum finally stopped draining from your ass. You sigh and clean yourself up and head to the room to soak in the tub.
Oin and Balin watch the exchange and come over after you left. “Em alright?” they ask quietly. Thorin nods. “Just tired and a little sore. They were having fun once Fili met the requirements and she decided to go soak in the tub for a bit and have some quiet time and Relax.” He says quietly.
“Thorin, I have some herbs she can put in the water to help with the aches and pain. Would you mind if I brought them to her and showed her how to activate them?” Oin offers. “No, I won’t mind, Oin. Go ahead.” Thorin replies. Oin goes to where his pack is and gets the herbs and puts them into a cheesecloth pouch and ties it shut. Then he heads off to the bedroom area and knocks on your door. “Who is it?” you ask. “It’s Oin, Lass. I have something you can have in the bathwater to help with the aches and pain.” He offers. “Just a minute.” You say and climb out of the tub. A groan escapes your lips as you move around. You wrap in a towel and unlock the door.
Oin comes in and explains that Dams who are chosen to do what you did, are often sore afterwards since they are usually using up the entire day teaching the lad the ways. He shows you how to put the sachet into the hot or warm bathwater and let it steep for about 10 minutes, then take it out and soak for a half hour or more. “You’ll be feeling better by tomorrow morning. Just make sure you drink plenty of water.
If it starts to burn when you use the restroom, let me know. Some Dams end up with a bladder infection from all the friction irritating the wall and bladder.” He explains. You nod. “Thank you, Oin.” “Thank you for doing this for Fili, Em. We weren’t sure how Thorin was going to teach him when we realized he was going to reach that milestone on the journey, and we had no Dam to ask to help teach him. I am glad we found you and that you were willing to do this.” He tells you. “You were an answer to many of our prayers to Mahal.” He says. “Now, I’ll leave you to your quiet time.” Oin says and he brings the pitcher of water over and sets it on the chair beside the tub and puts your cup with it, then heads out.
You sigh and unwrap the towel and climb into the tub again you toss the sachet in and let it float around in the tub while you soak. You figure it had been in there for more than ten minutes, so you pull it out, give it a squeeze and plop it on the floor. Then you lie back in the water and rest your head against the tub, letting the warmth surround you. Quickly, you fall asleep and that’s how Thorin and Fili find you a few hours later.
“Awwwee, she looks so cute like that!” Fili says softly Thorin smiles and nods. “Fili, turn the blankets down on the bed and then grab the towel and let’s get her out of the tub, that water’s got to be cold by now.” Thorin says. Fili nods and Thorin locks the door then strips out of his clothes. He leans over the tub and dips his arms into the cool water. He slips them under your legs and around your back and gently lifts your glorious, naked body out of the water. He holds you over it for a couple minutes, letting the water run off of you. “Fee, come squeeze out her hair so it’s not dripping all over.” He instructs.
Fili does as he’s asked and gets it all squeezed out. You wake when they start to dry you off and you open your sleepy eyes. “Oh, hi! Did I fall asleep in the tub again?” you ask. They both chuckle and nod. You giggle and let them finish. “Come on, Love, let’s get you to bed so we can cuddle you.” Thorin says. You nod and he carries you to bed. Fili scrambles up and giggles. This bed is huge! I bet we could fit Kee and Bilbo in here too and still have room to sprawl!” he exclaims. “Nope. No more Dwarves or others in my bed! Two is plenty for me!” you exclaim. They both laugh and pepper you with kisses.
You grin at their ministrations and you sigh happily. “Are you up for a little more exploring, Em?” Fili asks. You giggle. “You two are insatiable! Tell you what, I’ll lie here and you two have fun exploring and figure it out.” You tell them. They both laugh and nod.
They talk for a few minutes discussing what they want to try. Thorin wants to be in your main entrance and Fili decides he wants to feel your lips on him again. They ask if that’s okay and you nod, not sure how they’ll do it, but you decide to leave it up to them to figure out.
They put you in the middle of the bed so they can both easily move around you, and you’re positioned on your back. Thorin reclines beside you and caresses you and worships your body for a little bit getting you ready for another round of lovemaking. Fili kisses your face upside down, making you giggle, he caresses your neck and plays with your hair. Once you were warmed up and slick, Thorin pulls his fingers out of your cave and licks them clean, then slowly enters you, making you let out a toe-curling moan.
Both Dwarves moan. “Ooohhh, I like the sound of that!” Fili says with a grin. “I wonder how many times we can make her do that tonight and tomorrow?” he asks. Thorin smirks. “A lot.” Is all he says. He slowly thrusts in and out of you, knowing you’re sore, and just wanting to take it easy with you. He nugdes your leg up and lets it dangle over his thigh as he caresses it. Fili gives him a minute then looks down at you.
You gaze up at him and reach up and caress his member. Pleasuring him with your hands. He moans and lets you do as you please. You pleasure Fili with your hands for a bit, then you take him in your mouth, so he is hovering over your head facing Thorin. You put your hands on his hips and guide him how to thrust shallowly into your mouth while you tease him with your tongue. Once he is used to that, you gradually work him to the back of your throat just before the gag reflex area.
Fili is a moaning mess, thoroughly enjoying your mouth on his dick. He feels your tongue toying with the top of his dick and his sensitive underside of his dick rubbing along the bumpy roof of your mouth.
Thorin is chuckling as he watches and lazily thrusts in you. Once you were ready, you relax your throat and caress Fili’s hips and give him a quick pull forward, pushing his shaft in past the gag reflex area and his and Thorin’s eyes both get huge as they can see the outline of Fili’s dick on your throat as he presses into it. You moan and Fili’s eyes roll back, as he lets out a groan in reply, “Ohhh, Sweet Mahal!” he exclaims. “Oh, Em, Honey, this feels amazing!” he tells you as his hands hold your head gently. He slowly thrusts in and out of your mouth enjoying the feeling. When you need to breathe, you tap his hands, and he gently pulls out.
Thorin and Fili’s eyes widen in wonder as they are watching your throat move as Fili pulls his dick out and just does some shallow thrusts letting you breathe. When you’re ready, you pull on his hips and he does a quick thrust to get past your gag reflex and then sinks back into your throat, making it swell again. Thorin reaches up and gently places a hand on your throat and Fili does some shallow thrusts. Thorin’s eyes open wide when he can feel it. He looks up at Fili and chuckles.
Leaning back, he rests his hand on your low belly, feeling his own thrusts into you. “The skin in these two places must be thin since we can feel the movement through them. I can’t feel it here when I take her in her back door.” Thorin says, musing. Fili shrugs and rests his hand gently on your throat feeling his dick move up and down your passage.
You tap his fingers, and he pulls out letting you breathe. He enjoys this for a while as does Thorin, then Fili pulls out and shifts to lie beside you. Thorin leans forward and reclines on the side of you, still buried in your main opening. They both lie there on either side of you, each caressing half of your body. The sensations confusing your brain and nearly make it short circuit.
Moaning quietly, you enjoy their soft touches. “Em, can I try to enter your back door while Thorin stays in your main opening?” Fili asks. You think for a minute then nod. “Just take it slow.” You say. He nods and grabs the bottle of lube. He pours some into his hand and rubs it on himself and uses the rest on your rear opening after turning you onto your side. He curls up against you and takes his dick and uses it to massage your opening. Thorin watches carefully to make sure you aren’t hurt.
You moan softly feeling the pressure and the caresses. “You alright?” Thorin asks. You nod. “Feels good, he’s just using his tip to massage it.” You reply. Thorin nods.
Once Fili feels you start to relax, he slowly adds more pressure. Little by little his tip slips in. when it finally slips past the tight ring, you both groan. “Ooohhh, soooo tight, Em!” Fili groans. “Aaaaahhhhh, Oh, Fili! Give me a minute.” You say panting a little as it stretches you, and keeps you stretched like that.
It feels tighter now since Thorin’s already stretching the wall that your ass’s tunnel and your main cavern share. Fili stills and lets you adjust. He caresses your rear and your leg while he waits, once you are ready you nod, and he slowly starts to press in further. He groans and stills, then pulls back a little till his tip is at your entrance again. He slowly presses in again, and groans, then cums with a moan. “Ooohhhh, you feel so much tighter, Em!” he groans and rests his head between your shoulder blades panting a little. Thorin shifts and thrusts a little bit, making all three of you moan at the feeling. He grins and stills.
Slowly Fili starts to delve deeper into your ass, cumming a second time with a low moan. “Sooo fucking tight, Oh Mahal, Thorin!” he groans. Thorin just smirks and gives a few shallow thrusts. You and Fili moan again and Fili is clinging to your back like a backpack. Finally, he gets himself fully sheathed and sighs happily. Your eyes roll back, and you moan, “Ohhhh, Thorinnnnn!!! I feel so over-stuffed with you both buried so deep inside me!!!”
Thorin and Fili both grin. “Now what?” Fili asks. “Just relax and enjoy it.” Thorin replies. Fili nods and lays his head next to you on the pillow. Once Thorin feels Fili right on the other side of the canals’ wall from him, and sees Fili settle and still. Thorin starts to slowly thrust in long, slow movements, getting you both used to the sensation. Both you and Fili groan, long, low groans of pleasure as the sensation is drawn out by Thorin’s slow, long thrusts. Fili feels the pressure decrease on his dick as Thorin pulls out. He sighs a little and then lets out another long, low groan as Thorin starts to press back into you. Thorin groans a low, rumbling sound as he feels Fili’s dick caressing him through the wall separating the two passages.
Thorin does this for a while, taking his time, getting you all used to the feeling. Fili cums again from the sensation and groans. He starts to pull back too as Thorin presses in. The shifting and changes in pressure have you moaning in low, rumbling moans of their names, making them both turned on. Fili slowly starts to match Thorin’s strokes, alternating them so you are only filled by both of them for a few moments between each stroke.
Your moans get more urgent and you start to beg them to go faster. They look at each other and Fili lets Thorin set the pace, and he matches it. Little by little they thrust faster letting you dictate the pace. You’re panting and can’t believe they are both taking you like this at the same time and it’s not hurting. Your mind is slowly being blown by them and you are losing the ability to think coherently as they slowly tighten the coil deep inside you.
You’re whimpering and begging for more. You reach out and tug Thorin to come closer. He shifts his body against yours and you wrap your arms around him in a hug. He chuckles since that is how Fili is holding you, except you’re facing away. Thorin picks up the pace and again, Fili matches it and soon they are both pounding into you and grunting like boars. They both cum with a loud groan and you cry out feeling them both cum together and fill your two canals with heat and a throbbing sensation that is slightly different, which triggers you to cum and grip them both tight. They both groan and wait for you to relax and then they start to thrust alternating again. Starting the whole process over again.
You lie there panting as these two Dwarrow take you gently and give you mind-blowing pleasure as they fuck both your holes at the same time. Fili grins and sees a smug look on Thorin’s face. He chuckles and starts to pepper your shoulders and across your back with little kisses while Thorin caresses your front.
You moan even more and cry out, “Ohhhh, yesssss, oh, you two!!!! Moreeee!” you beg and they both grin and pick up the pace. Soon their paces get off as they start to lose rhythm as the pleasure gets almost overwhelming for them and Fili comes first with a growl and a powerful orgasm that has him seeing stars and feeling like lead almost immediately. The force of his cum shooting into you along with his throbbing triggers your climax and you groan, “Oooooohhhhh, Feeeeee, oooooh, Thorin, don’t stop!!!”
Your climax clenching down on Thorin makes him lose rhythm and he growls as he feels your walls tighten and start to milk his length. He rumbles and groans and tries to keep thrusting, but his orgasm hits him like a ton of bricks, and he growls and cums with a strong climax as well, he paints your walls with his warmth, throbs hard inside you making Fili moan at the sensation and annoyed that he can’t move to make it stop. His tip is near where the pressure from Throin’s cum is hitting your wall, and with every load hitting the wall, it sends the sensation into Fili’s tip.
You lie there panting heavly, feeling warm and sweaty pinned between two Dwarrow who are like furnaces. You groan and roll Fili off of you a little and he moans still feeling like lead. His arm flops down off your side and he doesn’t move. Thorin lies there panting heavily. “You… alright… Love?” he asks between pants.
“Just too warm.” you reply. “You two… are like… fucking… furnaces!” you exclaim. He laughs and nods. “You won’t have to worry about being too cold, Sweetheart, once we’re back on the road. Fee and I will keep you warm.” Thorin tells you.
You nod. “Rest now, love. You too Fee.” Thorin tells you both. He pulls out of you for a minute to grab the blankets and pulls them up over the three of you and makes sure to hang onto the top two since he knows Fili is a ‘blanket thief’. And will end up grabbing them all if he doesn’t hang onto them.
Thorin lies down next to you and enters you again. Making Fili groan and turn to cuddle you, thrusting into you then stilling. The three of you fall asleep quickly. Both of your Dwarves buried to the hilt inside of you.
The next morning, Thorin is surprised that the blankets are where he left them. He opens his eyes and realizes Fili hasn’t moved! He’s smiling in his sleep, curled up against you with his hands nestled in your hair and his face almost buried in it. Thorin chuckles and wonders if Fili was such a restless sleeper because of his soul longing for you all his life. Thorin thinks about his own sleep since joining with you and he realizes his sleep has improved as well. He grins and lies there happily joined with you still. His morning wood buried deep within your lush, warm walls. You’re throbbing ever so slightly and a contented look on your sleepy face. Thorin kisses your forehead and brings an arm over you and Fili and embraces you both.
You wake to quiet low, murmuring and the feeling of being stuffed so full it makes you groan. You feel the fullness shift and start to alternate slow thrusts. As Thorin and Fili both see you start to wake. “Mmmmmm” you moan. “Morning, Sweetheart.” Fili murmurs in your ear and nibbles on it. “Morning Fee.” You mumble. “Morning Love.” Thorin says, kissing your forehead. “Morning Thorin.” You mumble, still not opening your eyes. “How did you sleep?” Fili asks.
“Mmmmmm. Good.” You moan. “Soooo fullll! Ohhhh!” you moan. They both grin. “Would you like to try a different position, Sweetheart?” Fili asks. You nod.
They both slowly slip out of you and Thorin rolls onto his back and Fili hops off the bed and goes to wash himself so he’s good and clean.
Thorin takes the bottle of lube and slicks himself up and pulls you to lie on your back on top of him. “Just relax, Love, let me in.” he purrs and slowly presses into you. You’re still quite stretched from Fili and you moan, while he easily slips in and buries himself deeply after a few good thrusts. He waits for Fili to finish and then Fili climbs back up and looks at how you two are laying, “Mind if I move some legs around?” he asks.
You shake your head. Fili moves Thorin’s legs so he will be able to thrust up, then Fili drapes your legs over Thorin’s so you are spread wide, your legs hanging to the outside of Thorin’s. Fili kneels down and grins. “There.” He says, seeing Thorin already buried to the hilt. “You’re welcome, Uncle.” He teases. “Kept her nice and stretched for you.” He jokes with a cheeky grin. You giggle and then groan as Fili leans over and rubs his member along your opening. Thorin rumbles as well since it grazes the underside of his sack.
Slowly Fili enters you and all three of you groan with pleasure. Once Fili’s sunk balls deep in your cave, they start to thrust, and your eyes roll back, and you let out a tantalizing moan that makes their toes curl. “Ooohhh, Honey, you sound divine!” Thorin rumbles. “I like that sound from those wonderful lips.” He rumbles in your ear. You let out another moan like it and both Dwarves reply with their own as you three all get turned on. They quickly find a comfortable rhythm and soon are dragging delectable sounds from your mouth as Thorin sucks on your neck and shoulders leaving marks and Fili is kissing you and marking your front and toying with your breasts.
You’re writhing between them as their sacks incessantly graze that patch of skin that Fili had used to make you cum repeatedly to help you beat Dwalin’s record. You feel the coil quickly tightening, when suddenly Fili slows wayyy down and you cry out, “NNoooooooo!” he grins. “Ohhh, Honey, we can’t let you cum this soon!” he purrs. “I promise, we’ll make it a mind blowing one when we do let you cum, okay?” he coos. You whimper and nod.
Thorin chuckles and starts to thrust slower too. Once you’ve calmed, they grin and start all over again, bringing you to the edge of climax again, getting you to nearly come undone when Fili, then Thorin both slow way down. You whine and moan again. They both chuckle and Thorin brings your arms up over his head, links them behind his neck, and holds them there, caressing and kissing your arms, then nods at Fili. He grins and starts to suckle your breasts as firm as you’ll take. You writhe under their ministrations as they continue to piston in and out of you at varying speeds now and different random depths, each Dwarf seeking to pleasure you in his own way.
The variance in depth, rhythms, being held down by Thorin and Fili’s incessant suckling of your breasts has you panting and begging for more. Fili grins and brings a hand up to cover your mouth as you are getting quite loud. Thorin grins and murmurs. “Oooohhh, does our little minx like this?” he purrs. You let out a wanton groan that curls their toes and sends them into a fucking frenzy with you. They both wrap you in their arms, one at the top of your chest and one at your hips and they both take you fast and hard till the three of you cum hard with a variety of cries, moans and growls in a mind-blowing climax.
The three of you lie there panting heavily, everyone feeling like their bodies are lead. Thorin groans and manages to roll the three of you to your sides, so all the dead weight wasn’t on him and you three lie there in a heap of arms and legs and bodies intertwined as your males throb incessantly deep inside you, flooding you with warmth and filling you full.
You recover first and lie there between two heaving chests. Unable to move since they both are draped over you and Fili’s head is nestled under your chin and Thorin’s is directly behind you, their arms draped over you where they had held you in tight hugs. Thorin’s warm breath ghosting the back of your neck and shoulder; Fili’s ghosting your chest. You lie there grateful for these two, and feel incredibly loved and cherished, safe and protected.
Thanking Mahal for them you lie there sweating between them as they radiate heat keeping you warm. Your arms are still lifted up around Thorin’s neck as he holds your upper chest, just under your breasts, and you start to play with his hair. He groans and you feel his dick jerk inside you. Grinning, you give them both a squeeze ‘down there’ making them both hard almost instantly and they both growl. You’re giggling and Fili finally is able to lift his head and gaze at you.
He starts to pull out of you slowly, making you whimper till his tip is just inside you. Thorin rumbles and shifts, then lets out a low, rumbling moan as Fili thrusts inside you and buries himself to the hilt in one quick thrust. You groan his name, and he grins, then repeats. Pulling out slowly, then a fast thrust into you. Your head tilts back against Thorin’s and he murmurs. “Mmmmm. Feels good, doesn’t it, my Sweet?” you can only nod and he chuckles. Then his hands begin to wander and caress you as he starts to do just short thrusts.
The two toy with you for the morning, trying different combinations of thrusts and moving your legs around into different positions, seeing what works and what doesn’t. They grin mischievously when they discover that if they keep your legs wide, you aren’t able to move much and Fili raises your legs, letting Thorin hold them as the two of them take you and the tilt of your pelvis lets them angle in deep and pleasure the back wall of your main cave and quite deep in your back door.
Grinning, you start to swivel your hips as they work you like this and both males’ eyes roll back and they groan wantonly, “Oooohhhh Emmmm! Ohhh, Honey, Keep doing that!” and you stop. They both growl and Thorin’s grip on your legs tighten. You giggle and he gives you a hard, deep thrust. You grin and swivel your hips again, making them both groan. Then you stop. Again, they growl.
“If you two think you’re the only ones who get to tease, you got it all wrong my dear Dwarves.” You quip and squeeze down hard on them both, stopping all movement. They growl and look at you. You smirk and let them go. “Just remember who’s really in control here.” You tease. “I can make you stop and keep you both from cumming whenever I want.” You remind them.
They both look at each other and growl. They start to take you fast and at varying depths and rhythms, messing with your senses. “Not if you are nearly blissed, Love.” Thorin rumbles. You grin and clamp down immediately stopping them. They groan and you giggle. “Is that SO? Honey, part of MY training was learning to do THIS at any point during intimacy, even just before climax.” You tell them both. “That way I can stay in control of what is done to MY body.” You inform them. They look at each other then you, surprised. You just smirk and quickly do a relax-squeeze-relax combo on them, making them both groan and their eyes roll back. You smirk and release them to continue.
They both sit there stunned for a moment at this new information. You giggle and swivel your hips, snapping them out of it and making them both moan as you start to rhymically squeeze them both, then release. Fili grins and starts to thrust and swivels his hips making YOU moan at the sensation of the two combined swiveling movements. Then Thorin starts to thrust and alters his rhythm and depth, making your senses reel and you begin to heavily pant. “Ooohhhh, yesssss, ohhhhhhh, feelssss amazinggggg!” you moan. They grin and start to do it faster. You start to pay attention to their breathing and their sounds, and wait for them to teeter at the edge. When they get there, you clamp down hard, stopping them from cumming. They groan and beg you to let them cum, but you just keep holding it, letting the sensation fade.
Once you feel they’ve calmed, you release them and they growl, “You little tart! Ohhh, you’re gonna pay for that.” Fili warns. Thorin smirks and nods. “Mmmmhhhhmmmm!” and they start to take you fast and hard. You are a moaning mess, and they are near climax again and you clamp down and make them growl. Thorin’s had about enough of it and smacks your ass. “That’s enough, Em.” He rumbles. You release and they start all over again. This time you let them climax.
Suddenly you don’t feel like this is fun any longer and as they lie there panting, you pull them both out of you, climb off the bed and wrap up in a bathrobe and step out of the room. You are thankful no one is there sitting outside your room, and you slip into the bathroom and lock the door. You do your business, then wipe and sit there and quietly cry wondering why it is okay for them to repeatedly deny you to cum all day yesterday, but it’s not okay for you to deny them a few times. Your ass still hurts from the smack Thorin gave you and his scolding made you want to cry. You decide to stay in there until you hear them both leave, having had enough of them both for a while.
Fili and Thorin lay there huffing and puffing from the latest round of intimacy with you, when you suddenly get up, pull them out of you, and leave the room after wrapping in your bath robe. They frown but still feel like lead and can’t move yet. They start to worry though, when you don’t come back after a few minutes. They look at each other and frown. “We didn’t hurt her, did we?” Fili asks.
“No, I don’t think so, Fee, she’d have said something.” Thorin says with a frown. “Why hasn’t she come back then?” Fili asks. “I’m not sure.” Thorin says, still pondering things. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up and dressed. Bombur will have breakfast ready soon.” Thorin says. Fili nods and they both wash up and get dressed.
Both Dwarves are frowning though, when you still have not returned. “You don’t think we upset her somehow, do you?” Fili asks. Thorin shrugs. “Just give her some space, Fili.” He says. Fili nods and they head out of the room and down the hall. Thorin stops at the bathroom and knocks, “Em? You in there?” he asks.
You freeze and hold your breath when you hear Thorin knocking. When you don’t answer, you hear Thorin try the handle, finding it locked, he frowns and hums, they continue on. You sit there and cry quietly, wrapping your arms around your middle. You hurt from their romp with you this morning and being used for Fili’s training all day yesterday. Getting up, you peek out into the hallway and quickly slip back into the bedroom and lock the door.
You remove the bathrobe and slip into the cold bath water, wishing it was warm. You’re glad, though that the water is still in there with Oin’s herb concoction. You try to relax and let it seep into you again. You quietly cry feeling unhappy now for some reason. You decide you’ve had enough sex for a while.
Thorin and Fili come out into the dining area and everyone looks up. “Morning.” Balin says, “Where’s Em?” he asks. Thorin frowns. “She didn’t come out here?” he asks. Balin shakes his head. “Hmmmm.” Thorin hums and doesn’t say anything more. He sits down and ponders, wondering where you went. Fili moves to get some coffee from Bombur. He suddenly remembers Bombur is married and quietly explains what happened this morning and how you just suddenly got up and left the room. “She’s feelin’ upset ‘bout sumthin’.” He quietly tells Fili. “Just give her some space. She’s probably quite sore after yer training yesterday and yer romp last night and this mornin’. She might just need a break from havin’ sex for a few days, Fee.” He explains.
Fili nods, “Oh, okay. Thanks, Bombur.” Fili says quietly. He feels bad they upset you and wonders why you didn’t say anything. He frowns and hands Thorin a cup of the coffee he got for them both.
“You two alright?” Bofur asks. “We’re fine, Bofur. Don’t mind us.” Thorin says. Bofur looks at the two of them not buying it, but lets it drop. Oin quietly gets up and frowns. He slips off to his pack to make your tea and comes back in the room. He goes to the kettle over the fire and pours the water in, then lets it steep for a few minutes. He pulls the tea bag out and tosses it into the fire.
When you still haven’t appeared, the Dwarves all start to get a little worried. Thorin gets up and goes to see if you are in one of the other bedrooms. He checks each room and discovers the bathroom is now not occupied, he goes to check your room again, and finds the door locked. He knocks and calls for you, but you don’t answer. He sighs and rests his head against the door. “Sweetheart, I know you’re in there. Please, let me in so we can talk and work out whatever is bothering you.” He says quietly.
No answer. Thorin wonders if you just fell asleep again. Figuring you were just tired, he leaves you alone and goes back to the dining area. When he returns and doesn’t have you with him, Fili and Balin frown. Balin looks at Thorin with a questioning look. Thorin shrugs and sighs. He sits and ponders your odd reaction, but says nothing. “Uncle, are you sure Em’s okay?” Fili quietly asks. “I don’t know, Fee. It seems she’s back in the bedroom, but has the door locked now and wouldn’t let me in. She may have just gone back to bed and is sleeping and just didn’t want to be disturbed and didn’t hear me.” He says. “Just let her be for a while. We can try again later on after breakfast.” He says quietly. Fili frowns and nods.
Beorn comes out of his room and into the dining/kitchen area yawning. “Morning Dwarrow.” He murmurs. “Morning, Beorn.” They reply. Beorn moves over to the fire and pours some coffee into his huge mug from his coffeepot. Bombur had asked Beorn to show him how to make it in his coffee pot which the shape changer happily did. Beorn sits down in the corner of the room in his huge chair and looks around. “Where is the little female?” he asks. Thorin cringes. “She is still in her room. I suspect she is just tired after yesterday.” He replies. Beorn chuckles. “I hear it went well yesterday.” He states with a grin.
Fili’s face gets red, and he nods. Beorn chuckles. “Wore her out, did you?” he asks. Fili grins and nods, “It appears so.” He replies. Beorn chuckles again. “Congrats.” He replies, then Bombur starts to serve everyone breakfast.
When breakfast finishes and you still have not appeared, Fili goes to check on you and finds the door locked still. He knocks and calls for you and you still do not answer. He frowns and is getting worried. Fili comes walking back into the dining area then grabs Kili and says, “Come with me, I need your help.” And the two head out into the sunshine. “What is it Fee?” Kili asks as they round the corner of the house. “I need you to help lift me up so I can look in the window of our bedroom. I think we did something to piss off Em this morning. She has locked herself in the bedroom and won’t let us in.” he tells his Brother.
Kili frowns hearing that but agrees to help him. They find a bench and carry it over, so it is under the window. Fili climbs on it, but still can’t reach the window. Kee, climb up and let me stand on your back. I think I should be able to see in then.” He says. Kili nods and climbs up. He kneels and gets on all fours and curls up in a ball. Fili climbs up on his back and stands. “Can you raise me up a little more, Kee?” he asks. Kili uncurls and is on his hands and knees. Giving Fili a few more inches.
Fili looks in the window and sees you laying in the tub, your eyes are red rimmed, and you look up at the door and frown, then look back down and just sit still. Fili climbs back down. “Yup, she’s upset with us about something.” He says. Sitting down beside his Brother. “How do you know that, Fee?” Kili asks.
“She’s sitting in a tub of cold water, instead of letting us drain it and refill it with warm water. Her eyes are red rimmed, and it looks like she’s been crying. And she looked up at the door, froze, frowned, then looked back into the tub. I’m guessing someone knocked on the door and she was just refusing to answer it.” Fili explains.
“What happened that she’s upset?” Kili asks. “That’s just it, Kee, we aren’t sure what we did to upset her like this.” Fili says rubbing his beard.
“Uncle says to just give her some space and let her be.” Fili tells Kili. They both sigh and decide to head to the trees and pick some apples for Bombur to use for lunch, hoping he’ll make apple pie. Thorin and Balin come around the corner of the building as the two boys reach the tree line and chuckle watching them trying to get at the apples.
Thorin sighs, “I don’t understand why Em isn’t letting us into the room, Balin.” He says quietly. They see the bench and walk over to it. “Maybe she’s still sleeping, Thorin.” Balin suggests. Thorin sighs. Then he climbs up on the bench, stands on it on his tip toes, and looks into the window. He sees you in the tub, you’re moving around, massaging your aching joints and he sees your shoulders trembling and you turn your head enough as you look at the bed. He sighs seeing your eyes red-rimmed and tears trickling down your cheeks.
He turns and sits down with a sigh. “No, Balin, she’s awake.” He says. “She’s sitting in the bathtub of cold water, her eyes are red rimmed and she’s got tears trickling down her face.” He says quietly. “I don’t know what we did to upset her though.” He sighs and rubs his face, frustrated.
“Hmmm,” Balin says, sitting next to Thorin on the bench. “Mind telling me what you two did with her this morning?” he asks. “Maybe I can help you figure it out.” He suggests.
Thorin tells him what happened and Balin frowns. “Hmmm. It sounds like she might have been just trying to do the same to you two that you had been doing to her, Thorin.” He states. “Thorin looks confused. “You said the two of you would bring her to the edge and then not let her climax, and then let it dissipate, then pleasure her again. Isn’t that what she was doing to you two when she clenched down on you both. Denying you both the ability to climax, and waiting till it dissipated?” Balin points out.
Thorin groans and nods. “She may be upset because you got mad at her for doing that, Thorin, especially if you gave her a swat on the rump and chastised her for it.” Balin explains. “You have been ‘practicing’ on her a lot the last few days, she may be getting tired of it for a while and might need a break.” Balin explains. “Too much of a good thing can spoil it if you overindulge.” He reminds Thorin.
Thorin nods. “You’re right, Balin. We owe her an apology.” He says. “How are we supposed to do that though, when she won’t let us enter the room?” Thorin asks. “Just give her some time, Thorin. If she hasn’t come out by lunch time, I’ll knock and see if she will let me in. If she does, I’ll talk with her, if you’re alright with that.” Balin offers.
Thorin sighs and nods. “Thank you, Balin. If she lets you talk to her, tell her that Fili and I are sorry for upsetting her and I’m sorry for swatting her rear and reprimanding her. We didn’t understand that was what she was trying to do.” Thorin says. “I will do that, Thorin. Try to enjoy the rest of the day. We’ll need to be leaving tomorrow morning though. We can’t risk too many more delays, or we won’t reach the mountain in time.” Balin reminds him. Thorin sighs and nods.
They get up and go their separate ways to find places to relax.
*More chapters to come. Feel free to leave comments, and to reblog.
*Let me know if you want to be added / deleted from my Thorin Oakenshield Tag list.
Tagging: @void-ace @xxbyimm @deepestfirefun @criminaly-supernatural @fizzyxcustard @legolaslovely @thewhiteladyofrohan @gossip-girl-of-middle-earth @talktothemoon2-blog @shutupthorin @thethorinoakenshieldsimp @thefanficmistress @dumbassunderthemountain @anki-of-beleriand @twobirdsonesong @thecurioussimmeruk
8 notes · View notes
Dating Ecthelion and being insecure would include:
Gondolin is a beautiful place full of beautiful people so it’s likely you’ll feel insecure at least sometimes, more if you’re human
You just can’t understand how such a high born, eligible, handsome elf such as Ecthelion would want to be with someone like you when there are plenty of ladies fighting for his attention
He does his best to make you feel worthy of him. In his eyes, he’s the one that should be striving for your affections, not the other way around
He finds time to tell you he loves you and thinks you’re beautiful at least once a day, more if he can find the time
When he’s extremely busy, he leaves little notes around your chambers and study to remind you how much he loves you
He’s not normally one for cuddling or excess amounts of physical affection but when he sees you’re sad or needing reassurance, he’s more than happy to pull you onto his lap
He can be extremely comfy and makes a great pillow so cuddling with him is your favourite way to feel better
Ecthelion is also very practical so if it’s something about your body you dislike, he’ll suggest certain training methods to help you feel happier about yourself
But if you dislike something for no reason, let’s say you dislike your legs but they’re actually quite strong and sexy, he’ll get a lot more firm and might even snap at you if you attempt to change them
“Why do you feel the need to do such things? Feanor recognised the beauty of his silmarils so why would you mess with something that’s already perfect?”
He doesn’t mean to but that might make you even sadder because he sometimes has issues controlling his tone, couple that to his impressive height and build and he can be unintentionally scary at times
He’ll make a list of all the things he loves about you and rattle them off, one by one, as he kisses various areas of your body
This sometimes progresses into full on body worship if he has the time
If there is someone/people saying bad things about you, Ecthelion will completely shut them down right then and there, sometimes being extremely rude and Glorfindel having to step in
As said before, he can be extremely intimidating so much even make them cry
If you’re out in public and Ecthelion notices you’re starting to retreat inside yourself, a gentle squeeze on the hand or shoulder will help to bring you back to him
He’s always hyper-aware of how you’re feeling so can normally nip your bad moods in the bud before they become an issue
58 notes · View notes
Third Time’s the Charm (2/3)
Third Time’s the Charm is a story prompted by @anjhope1’s ask. Thank you very much for your patience - I hope you will enjoy the three chapters I prepared for you. Enjoy! 💙💙💙
Relationships: Thorin x Reader
Warnings: attempted assault, mentions of violence
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
* * *
The second time you saw the King Under the Mountain was… To be honest, you heard him first, but let’s not get ahead of the story.
After a few days in the city, you decided you liked Dale well enough to stay there for a while. You rented a nice room that completely by accident had a view of the Lonely Mountain and the gate of Erebor, and settled in. Finding work as a Master Builder was very easy, most of the buildings in the city needed to be rebuilt or renovated. After several months, it became clear that if someone needed the work to be done well, they would turn to you. By then, you had gathered a group of tried and tested stonemasons, woodworkers and other qualified craftsmen who worked with you day and night if needed, restoring even the most ruined places. Your business thrived, you started feeling at home in Dale, you made new friends (including Jossiah and his daughter Leah), but you felt that there was something missing in your life. Every evening you would cast a glance from your window at the meticulously carved in green marble Main Gate of Erebor, admiring the dwarven craftsmanship. What other great wonders did the Kingdom Under the Mountain hide beneath the ground?
One thing was certain. You were not allowed to visit that place. Neither you nor anyone else from Dale - unless you were King Bard or one of his envoys. People talked that the Dwarves were a haughty, secretive race and didn’t trust Men well enough to let them feast their eyes on the treasures of the Mountain. Not that you could blame them. Among the people who arrived to Dale, there were quite a few shady individuals, cutpurses, cutthroats, and the like. If they were to enter the Mountain, they would certainly make sure that the Dwarves “shared” their riches with them, just like you did with your coin pouch the other day. You don’t even know when it was taken from you. It happened on a market day, the main square of the city was crowded, you reached for your coin pouch to pay for something only to realize that it disappeared. Since that day, you learned to hide your money and didn’t carry it with you needlessly.
One late evening, close to midnight, you were walking home after a very long day at a building site. Your steps echoed against the well-polished cobblestones as you marched ahead, holding several scrolls with architectural drawings and building plans under your arm. Your gaze wandered towards the triangular shape of the Lonely Mountain ahead of you, and you could see the twin shimmering lights in the distance. You knew that they marked the Main Gate of Erebor. Somehow they reminded you of the silver sparks in the eyes of Thorin Oakenshield as he looked at you that time when he rode through Dale, the king returning to his kingdom. You haven’t seen him since then but every time you recalled his icy-blue gaze, you felt a warm tingling sensation running down your spine.
That pleasant sensation turned into a sudden chill when you heard that there were more steps echoing behind you. Someone was following you. Several someones, to be exact. Perhaps those were just some tired workers returning from a tavern, you thought. You sped up slightly and turned right into one of the side alleys that would lead you home quicker. The sounds of the footsteps behind you didn’t disappear. On the contrary, they became louder, more insistent.
“Oi!” an unpleasantly raspy voice called after you. “What’s the hurry, lass?”
A quick glance behind you was all you needed. There were five men behind you, each of them looking more shady and more terrifying than the next. Clenched fists, nasty grins, blackened teeth. They definitely didn’t look like a group of decent workers returning home. You sped up once again only to see that two more men appeared in the narrow alley ahead of you, blocking your way.
“Hey,” one of the newcomers said, spitting on the ground under your feet. “Jack asked you a question.”
You froze, seeing the large knife he held in his hand. He stood just a few steps away from you and it was close enough for you to smell his stench, a foul mix of stale sweat and something rotten. A large, nasty scar ran across his flat, crooked nose and his right cheek. Beside him stood his blond-haired companion who grinned at you menacingly.
“Let me pass!” you protested.
The scarred man shook his head slowly. Glancing back, you saw the other group of men encircling you.
“You’re not gettin’ anywhere before you give us your gold, lass!” Scar spoke.
“I don’t have anything with me!” you tried to explain. It was true, this was one of the days when you left your coin purse at home.
All the seven men guffawed nastily.
“Sure, sure, lass. We hear it all the time!”
“Give us your coins and we’ll let you go.”
“Right! Your coins and a kiss!”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind a kiss or two too!”
“So, what is it going to be, lass?” Scar grinned, narrowing his eyes, pointing his knife at you.
“I think I’ll pass,” you said, took a deep breath, clenched your fists and... high-kicked the blade out of his hand.
He gasped in surprise. The knife clanked against the cobblestones. It seemed as if the world froze for a heartbeat. And then everything seemed to speed up, happening all at once. Scar lunged at you, but you dodged swiftly and kicked him in his chest, making him stagger back. His blonde companion wanted to grab you, but you jumped aside in one fluid move, giving him a well-aimed punch. Now you had a chance to escape! But this time, you weren’t fast enough. Before you managed to flee, someone grabbed you from behind, making it impossible for you to move.
“Not so fast, girl,” you heard that unpleasant voice from before. You shuddered, but it didn’t stop you from thinking on how to escape, even though the man was clearly taller and stronger than you.
“I said, I don’t have anything!” you exclaimed. “Leave me be!”
“Somehow I don’t believe it. You’re too well dressed. Or do you prefer us to kidnap you in exchange for a ransom from your loving husband?” he twisted your arm, making you exclaim in pain.
“I don’t have a husband!” you said through gritted teeth.
“What? Such a pretty lass? And still unwed? Boys, does anyone care to be a groom?” the cutthroat offered.
“How about me, boss? I’d love me a bit of merriment,” one of his companions offered, wiggling his disgustingly looking unibrow.
You squirmed in your captor’s grasp, but it was still tight, and painful.
“How about ye have a wee bit of merriment with us, boys, instead?” a new, unusually accented voice said. You looked ahead and blinked. From the shadows, two broad-shouldered figures appeared. Their faces were hidden under the hoods of their cloaks, but something in their movements told you they weren’t just some innocent merchants passing by. Judging by their height and their clothes, they were… oh, yes. Dwarves.
The one who spoke took off his hood, revealing a bald tattooed head, and a bushy blue-gray beard. The light of the moon glinted on the surface of his iron knuckle dusters. No, this was definitely not a dwarven merchant.
“You better leave, short-arse, if you don’t want to have your skull cracked,” spat one of your assailants.
“Hear that, uzbadê? He called me ‘short-arse’!” the tattooed dwarf chuckled to his hooded companion.
“Perhaps he fancies you, Dwalin,” the other dwarf replied in a low, powerful voice.
“Aye, ye might be right! I shall give him a kiss, I’ve heard he wants one!” the Dwarf called Dwalin grinned ferociously and blinked at you.
And then the hell broke loose.
Without thinking, you let your body act on its own and kicked your captor in his shin with all your strength. He yelped in pain and let you go, falling on the street. Both dwarves, their fists ready, lunged at the group of men, dealing punches left and right. You glanced ahead, seeing your chance at fleeing from this place, but then your gaze returned to the Dwarves fighting off the men who had attacked you. The decision was easy. You stayed, faced your assailants and joined the fray alongside your valiant defenders.
Quite a few spinning kicks, well-placed punches and one or two hook kicks later, it was over. The fight seemed like a blur to you, but you recalled heavy dwarven fists flying through the air, pained moans of your former assailants and the thudding sounds of their bodies falling to the ground. Seven men lay on the cobblestones, some of them groaning in pain, most of them not daring to move, having learned how dwarven iron boots felt against their ribs.
You rested your back against the wall of a nearby building and let yourself slide to the ground, your muscles shaking, your breath quickened, trying to calm yourself.
“I told you a visit to Dale would be fun, didn’t I?” the tattooed dwarf, Dwalin, smiled widely at his mysterious companion.
You turned your eyes to this other dwarf and then you realized that his hood must have fallen off his head during the fight, uncovering a dark, wavy mane, a somewhat familiar face, and a pair of ice-blue eyes that now rested on you. You had seen these eyes before. And that handsome face, too. Oh, boy.
“T-thank you for saving me… your majesty,” you addressed Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lip as he said, “It looked as if you were already in the process of saving yourself, my lady.”
The king of Erebor called you my lady. You couldn’t recall whether anyone has called you that before. And then you realized you were sitting down and the ruler of Erebor was standing in front of you. You weren’t too good with the royal protocol, but you have visited the Steward of Gondor’s court once and remembered how the chamberlain insisted on you never ever sitting down in the presence of a ruler. You made a sudden attempt at getting up, but your legs gave way beneath you.
“I was simply trying to defend myself,” you mumbled, cursing yourself for your trembling muscles and burning cheeks.
Thorin Oakenshield quickly closed the distance between you and reached out his hand towards you.
You blinked. And then stared at his wide dwarven palm, so unlike any human hand you’ve seen before, and yet clearly similar. Several large rings adorned his thick fingers, but you noticed calluses, too. This was the hand of a king and a warrior alike. When you touched it, the tips of your fingers tingled at the sensation. His skin was dry and very warm, warmer than you thought it would be. Not that you had been imagining it, of course. You have seen this Dwarf only once before!
His fingers wrapped around your hand with a surprising gentleness and he helped you stand up. You were glad that there was a wall behind your back because you still couldn’t trust your legs and you weren’t quite sure whether your sudden unsteadiness was caused by recent events or by his closeness. You could clearly see several silver strands in his dark mane of hair, the patterns on the beads clasping his temple braids, the small wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, and the noble lines of his face. And then, there was his cerulean gaze. The king of Erebor was studying your face, his eyes searching for something with a mysterious glint, making you think of a mountain river full of rapids, hiding its secrets under its surface.
“The way you fought… It was quite an impressive sight,” Thorin Oakenshield finally said, unhurriedly letting go of your hand, his warmth disappearing. Something inside you protested.
“Aye,” grinned Dwalin from behind him. “The way you kicked that bow-legged one right in his b---…”
The king cleared his throat and cast a warning look at him, “Perhaps it will be wise to escort you home now, my lady, before we draw any more attention to ourselves.”
As he spoke, they both put their hoods over their heads. You looked around. The dark alley was empty, except for the unmoving bodies of your unlucky assailants, but you saw a curious head or two sticking out of the window here and there above you. It was definitely time to leave this place.
“I can’t argue with that,” you admitted.
“Are you unhurt?” the king asked, looking at you intently, the ice-blue sparks in his gaze visible in the shadow of his dark blue hood.
“I’m well,” you replied. Your muscles were strained, your hands trembled, the adrenaline wearing off slowly, replaced by a wave of tiredness.
“Well enough to walk?”
You simply nodded. Reaching your home was more than you could have dreamt of moments before, facing the danger. But now it was over, the threat from the cutthroats was gone, and you felt… safe. Standing in a narrow, shady alley in the middle of the night, with two Dwarves as your only companions, two fierce warriors you had barely met and you knew nothing of them, you realized you wouldn’t feel any safer even if King Bard’s personal guard appeared in that place.
“Does that belong to you, m’lady?” the Dwarf called Dwalin approached you with the scrolls that you dropped at one point. They were visibly damaged, torn and dirty, but you hoped you could salvage them.
“Thank you, Master Dwarf. They do,” you reached for them.
“Let me carry them for you,” he made a small bow and you decided to accept his offer. Who would have thought that the Dwarves had such manners? Weren’t they supposed to be haughty and impolite to the people of Men?
“Do you live far, my lady?” the dwarven king’s words interrupted your thoughts. His low voice was like dark velvet, sinfully smooth, and yet full of character. This voice was used to giving out orders, but now you could hear softer notes in the way he spoke, making you somehow wonder whether his whisper would sound equally alluring.
“My lodgings are in the next quarter,” you pointed in the direction of your home, trying to chase away the image of Thorin Oakenshield closing the distance between you and whispering sweet words into your ear. It was clearly your tiredness speaking. You had to focus on getting back home, it was not a good time to daydream.
“We will be honored to accompany you,” the dwarven king offered and soon you were on the way, leaving the past danger and fears behind you.
For a while, you walked in silence. You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing from time to time at the king who walked next to you, but his hood covered most of his face. Even though you were of Men, and therefore taller than the Dwarves, you weren’t able to see more than his proudly set jaw and thick, dark braided beard clasped with a golden bead.
“May I ask where you learned to fight? Your skills are quite unusual,” Thorin Oakenshield’s pleasantly low voice reached your ears.
You swallowed, reminding yourself you had to tread carefully now. For the last two years, you were doing your best to blend in with the people of this wondrous, beautiful world, not wanting anyone to know your secret. Some folk were wary of magic, and by now, you were almost sure that it was magic that brought you into Middle Earth. Besides, your story seemed so improbable even in your own ears that you doubted someone like a king of Dwarves would believe it. Some days, you had problems believing it yourself.
“This is the fighting style of my people,” you said carefully. “We call it taekwondo.”
“Tae.. kwon… do?” the king repeated it slowly, his countenance hidden under the hood. “I do not think I have heard this name before. May I ask where you come from?”
“I came here from faraway lands, beyond Umbar, where I learned my trade,” you explained. Well, technically, you weren’t lying. Wherever your world was, it was definitely beyond Umbar. And now it was a good time to change the subject further, something you have grown used to during your time here. “The last two years I spent in Minas Tirith under the eye of their Master Builders which came in handy. The owner of the building I’m renovating now insisted on the Gondorian stucco and haut-reliefs in the latest style of the White City. The plans you are carrying, Master Dwalin, contain...”
Dwalin glanced at the parchments, then at his king, and guffawed.
“Have ye heard that, Th-- uzbadê?”
You frowned, “I don’t see what’s so funny about my work!”
“Oh, no, m’lady, I’m not makin’ fun of ye! I’m glad we’ve finally met! And in a shady alley of Dale of all places!” Dwalin chuckled and added quietly, in a conspiratorial tone of voice. “Thorin here was getting a bit restless!”
“You… wanted to meet me?” you couldn’t believe your ears. Your heart started beating faster. The king, the legendary Thorin Oakenshield wanted to see you himself, and now he was there, walking beside you.
“You are the Gondorian, are you not?” the King under the Mountain scowled at Dwalin and then turned to you.
The Gondorian. This was what most of the people of Dale called you. You wanted a new house? You’d need to ask for the Gondorian. This or that building belonged to your family and now you wanted to have it rebuilt? The Gondorian would have it ready for you in no time.
“Yes, I’m the Gondorian,” you nodded, trying to stifle a sigh of disappointment. Whatever the reason was, it was clearly connected with your job. Nothing more.
Thorin Oakenshield glanced up at you, “Very well.”
And then he continued walking in silence as if nothing happened, taking long, decisive strides, as if he was strolling along the corridors of his dwarven stronghold and not through a city of Men.
“Are you… your majesty…” you fumbled over the words, not quite sure how to address him. “Are you interested in my services? As an architect?”
“I may. I have seen some of your work and it looks promising,” he admitted.
Oh, Valar! Is this possible? The Dwarves were very well known for the skill of their stonemasons, engineers and Master Builders. Why would he need someone like you? But then another thought crossed your mind: it could be a way for you to finally see Erebor with your own eyes.
“If there is any way I can add to the beauty of your kingdom, I will be happy to help,” you offered, trying to make your voice sound calm and professional.
“I am glad to hear it,” the king responded. “But there are quite a few matters to discuss first.”
“Then let me invite you to my home, we are already here! Let us sit down and have a talk about what you need,” silence fell after your words. In the flickering light of the street lantern you saw looks of surprise on the dwarven faces when they exchanged a glance. Perhaps they were worried that you would uncover their true identity. “No one will disturb us. You can be assured of my secrecy. I live alone.”
Dwalin gave out a cough and then said a few words to his king in their guttural language.
Thorin Oakenshield shook his head at him and turned to you, making a small bow. As he did it, one of his temple braids slipped out from under his hood, the silver bead glistening in the light of the lantern. Your fingers twitched, and you had to chase away a very silly thought from your mind. It was not the time to wonder how it would feel to trace the pattern of his braid with your fingers.
“I thank you for your hospitality, my lady, but I’m afraid it would not be prudent at this time. You had quite an eventful evening. We can meet tomorrow at noon at ‘The Boar and the Maiden’ if it suits you,” the king proposed. You knew the tavern very well, and were a frequent visitor. A decent and inconspicuous place if one didn’t want to draw too much attention to themselves.
“Tomorrow noon sounds perfect, your majesty,” you agreed with a hopeful smile.
The thought of having a chance of seeing Thorin Oakenshield one more time made your heart flip as you observed the two dwarven silhouettes walking away after you said your good-byes, their broad backs disappearing in the darkness of the night.
It was almost noon and you were sitting at your favorite table at ‘The Boar and the Maiden’. Well, technically, you had more than an hour until your meeting, but it was always better to arrive a bit sooner, right? Besides, the place served the best apple pies.
“You are not eating the apple pie without me, are you?” a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts.
“Leah! What are you doing here?” you hugged the little girl, her short, curly hair brushing against your cheek.
“We’ve come to celebrate! Leah just passed her first test at school and got a gold star!” said Josiah who appeared behind her, carrying plates filled with apple pie topped with whipped cream.
After a short round of congratulations, you sat down together and started talking over the cake. It was good to see your friends again. Before you could ask anything, Leah started telling you about all that she had to learn to pass the test.
“And you know what was funny? Everyone thought Danny would get a gold star! But I did instead,” she giggled and stuffed a piece of apple pie into her mouth, smudging her dark cheek with whipped cream. “There was this super duper easy question!” she mumbled, munching on the pie. “And he didn’t know the answer!”
“What was the question about?” you asked curiously.
“Name three cur… tu.. lal… differences between Dwarves and Men!” Leah exclaimed. “One: never ask a Dwarf how much money they have. It is very rude. Two: don’t touch their hair. It is even more rude. Three: if a girl invites a Dwarf to her home, he will think she wants to marry him!”
Your breath hitched. Your eyes widened. Your mouth opened.
“What do you mean, if a girl invites a Dwarf…?” you were unable to finish the sentence. “It can’t be true…”
“But it is!” Leah frowned. “Right, daddy?”
“That is right,” Josiah nodded. “The Dwarves are a very peculiar people. Their traditions are different from ours, especially when it comes to marriage. But yes, Leah here is right. If an unwed person invites another unwed person into their home, for the Dwarves it means that they are open to the idea of courting.”
Something buzzed in your head and you were barely able to follow the conversation that came afterwards. The only thing you could think of was that yesterday night you invited the King Under the Mountain himself into your home… and you were to meet him very soon. Oh, Valar. You started wondering what were the odds of ground swallowing you up here and now without a trace. At least, this way you would keep a bit of dignity intact. You remembered how he and Dwalin acted when they heard your invitation. Thorin Oakenshield must have thought that you were trying to secure a large contract by the means of the bed. Or worse.
Suddenly, someone approached your table and asked in a hoarse voice, “Are you the Gondorian?”
“Yes, I am,” you looked at a young, red-bearded dwarf that appeared in front of you.
“I have a message for you. Good day, m’lady!” he put a piece of parchment at the table, made a low bow and left the tavern.
You quickly opened the message, noticing that the symbol on the wax seal was a raven, and read it as quickly as you could.
“Who’s the letter from?” Leah asked.
“Someone I’ve met very recently,” you explained.
“Is it your new sweetheart?” she grinned, giving you a nudge.
“My… who?!” you gasped.
“Your sweetheart! You are reading and blushing! Just like Miss Kate when daddy invited her to dinner!” she giggled again.
“Josiah, why haven’t you told me you finally decided to ask her out? Congratulations!” you patted his shoulder. You were really happy for your friend. It was a few years since his wife passed away and Kate seemed like a nice person.
“It was just one dinner,” Josiah waved his hand. His usually dark cheeks darkened a bit more, but perhaps it was only a trick of light.
“What about your letter? Are you going out with someone for dinner too?” Leah demanded, tugging at your sleeve.
“Not quite,” you sighed in disappointment. “I was to meet a client here but they canceled at the last moment.”
The message said something about urgent matters of state and meeting at a more convenient time, but you were convinced you knew what it really meant. You failed to make a good impression on Thorin Oakenshield when you shamelessly invited him home and this letter was proof that he deemed you unprofessional. Unworthy of his attention… as an architect. And of whatever unusual project he had in mind. You scolded yourself mentally. You were of Men and he was a Dwarf. Was there anything else you could have expected?!
Two weeks passed. Two weeks of you ignoring the existence of the Lonely Mountain and the dwarven kingdom underneath it. And then the same messenger came inviting you to Erebor on king Thorin II Oakenshield’s personal request. You were to travel to Erebor in two days’ time and discuss a business proposal.
Perhaps not everything was lost.
* * *
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Let me know how you liked this story so far!
Read it? Like it? Reblog it!
Taglist: @fizzyxcustard @shrimpsthings @dark-angel-is-back @sherala007 @amelia307 @anyaspidergirl-blog @justfollowtheroad @jotink78 @rachel1959 @saltwater-in-the-afternoon @linasofia @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @yourqueenunderthemountain @guardianofrivendell
74 notes · View notes
Third Time's the Charm (1/3)
Third Time's the Charm is a story prompted by @anjhope1’s ask. Thank you very much for your patience - I hope you will enjoy the three chapters I prepared for you. Enjoy! 💙💙💙
Relationships: Thorin x Reader
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
* * *
The first time you saw the King Under the Mountain was on the day you arrived to Dale. After Erebor was reclaimed by the Dwarves, the nearby city of Men that once was bustling with life needed rebuilding. Most of the people of Esgaroth moved to Dale, set on making it their new home. Soon, merchants started arriving with their goods, along with new settlers, searching for a good place to live. You were one of them. Two years ago, you got caught by a rainstorm while on a hike in a forest. Lost in the sudden darkness, you found a place to hide under a tree and decided to wait out the night. The sleep came soon, but when you woke up, both the storm and the forest were gone, along with the life you knew so far. You found yourself at the place called the Pelennor Fields, a place that, you were sure of it, wasn’t marked on any map of the Earth you knew. You were drawn towards the elegant towers of the White City, the capital of a land called Gondor, and started your new life there, quickly adjusting to it and making good use of your education as an architect. You were quickly noticed by the best Master Builders of Minas Tirith who taught you the secrets of their art in exchange for your knowledge.
Growing restless and eager to see the new world you were living in, you decided to join one of the merchant caravans and travel north to Rhovanion to find your luck there. If anyone would ask why you decided to travel so far away, you would tell them you’d always wanted to see the Misty Mountains. The truth was slightly different. As a woman of Men, you were fascinated by other cultures, their architecture and their building techniques. That is why you decided to travel to Rhovanion. If you were to find yourself in the vicinity of the Long Lake, you would have a chance to admire both the famed palace of king Thranduil of the Woodland Realm and, what was especially interesting to you, the legendary work of the dwarven stonemasons of Erebor. At least, that was what you hoped for.
Dale welcomed you with sunny weather and blue sky. After renting a room in a tavern, you ordered dinner to the sound of your growling belly. Enjoying the food in the main hall, you suddenly heard a commotion outside, and a sound of horns ringing in the air. A large group of the patrons moved to the door and left the tavern in visible excitement.
“What is happening?” you asked the barkeeper, a robust, middle-aged woman with a kind smile.
“The King of carven stone is returning to Erebor, see it for yourself!” she encouraged you, pointing her head at the door.
Erebor. The Dwarves. Finally! You’ve heard so much about the Lonely Mountain and its inhabitants and now you were going to see their king! Without thinking, you hurried outside and followed the crowd. The retinue of the King Under the Mountain was passing through the main street of Dale; a large group of proud Dwarven warriors in beautifully ornamented armors and helmets traveling on ponies. Every member of this group had an impressive beard and at least one dangerously-looking weapon.
One of the Dwarves caught your eye. He was slightly taller than most of his companions; his ceremonial black and golden armor shone in the last rays of the setting sun. A mane of dark, almost black wavy hair flowed down his shoulders and you noticed several braids, too. Looking at his profile, it was impossible to read his expression, but the aquiline line of his nose and his proudly set jaw made you think of the great dwarven statues of Erebor you had seen from afar. There was something more that made this Dwarf look different from his companions: the way he held himself, the way his icy-blue gaze scanned the gathered crowds, and... his beard. It was much shorter than one would expect, especially when compared to his companions, and pleated into only one braid clasped with a golden bead at the end.
“Look, Leah, the king of silver fountains is coming home!” a man in a leather apron who was standing near you said to a red-haired girl beside him, pointing at the group of Dwarves.
“Where has he been, daddy?” the child asked him, her eyes shining in excitement.
“He visited the elves to make sure we all have enough food for the winter,” he explained.
“Does that mean I’ll have to eat kale again?” the girl grimaced in disgust.
“If you’re lucky, you’ll have some parsnip, too!” her father winked at her.
The girl moaned in obvious despair, but you didn’t follow their conversation any further, your eyes focused on the approaching Dwarves. Their ponies went slowly and steadily, clearly knowing the way. Soon you could admire all the details of their harnesses, the beautifully crafted saddles and the geometric patterns on the warriors’ armors. Your eyes followed the sharp lines of a breastplate; the pattern made you think of ruffled up feathers of a bird of prey, gold against black, accentuating a broad chest. And then there were the golden pauldrons with ravens adorning them. What an interesting design choice. Wondering if the Dwarves used this pattern in their buildings as well, you lifted your gaze to the face of that warrior and… gulped. A pair of icy-blue eyes rested on your face, the gaze piercing you to your very core, the whites of his eyes contrasting with his tanned face and thick, dark beard. You recalled that Dwarves were proud and fearless people and decided that averting your gaze could be understood as a sign of cowardice, so you looked straight back at him. There was a spark in his eye, but you couldn’t understand its meaning. Was it your imagination or the king just nodded slightly at you with a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth? You froze. No, his gesture wasn’t directed at you, you were sure of it. He probably greeted someone else who stood nearby, someone he knew. Yes, that must have been it. You looked around to locate the person, but couldn’t spot them. When your gaze returned to that Dwarf, you could only see his wide back covered by a long black cloak and the hind legs of his pony.
“When I’m bigger, I’ll be a warrior and I will have the same raven armor as King Thorin!” the kale-hating girl next to you stated firmly. Uh-oh. So... were you really staring insolently in the eyes of the king of Erebor himself?
“I’m sorry, did you just say King Thorin?” you turned to her. The girl flashed a gap-toothed smile at you and recited. “King Under the Mountain, Thorin Oakenshield, the second of his name!”
Her father chuckled amiably, “They have just started learning about the history of Dale and Erebor at school.”
You nodded in understanding, “But… has Thorin Oakenshield not fallen in the great Battle of Five Armies?”
“You are new to Dale, aren’t you, miss?” the man asked, holding the girl’s hand. Leah seemed to have lost interest in your conversation and looked towards the Dwarven warriors who were slowly disappearing in the distance.
“I have just arrived from Gondor,” you explained.
“Ah, that explains it. You see, miss, he was mightily wounded on the battlefield and there were some rumors about his death, but he is as sturdy a Dwarf as they come. Made of stone, they say. The Grey Wizard was with him, and the Elven King too! People say they made some powerful magic and the king survived! His cousin Dain Ironfoot ruled in his stead for a while until the king got better.”
“The news that reached Minas Tirith were different…” you shook your head in disbelief. “I heard that Dain became the king.”
“You’re not the first one who comes to us surprised that the lord of the Iron Hills is not the king of Erebor. The rumors of Thorin Oakenshield’s demise reached as far as Shire, I hear. It is weird how those stories spread sometimes. But here, in Dale, we are glad that all that dragon business ended the way it did. We moved here from Laketown a while back and with the Dwarves nearby, the city will soon be thriving.”
“Daddy, daddy, can we go and feed the donkeys already?” Leah pulled at her father’s apron.
“Yes, we’d better be going. Well, it was nice to meet you, and if you ever need good shoes, ask for Jossiah,” the man made a small bow and his daughter waved you goodbye.
When you finally returned to the tavern, it was late and you quickly went to bed. Falling asleep, you recounted the events of the day.
You have arrived to Dale.
You saw the legendary dwarven king himself, Thorin Oakenshield.
And you couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was.
* * *
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Don’t forget to let me know what you think about this story!
Read it? Like it? Reblog it!
Taglist: @fizzyxcustard @shrimpsthings @dark-angel-is-back @sherala007 @amelia307 @anyaspidergirl-blog @justfollowtheroad @jotink78 @rachel1959 @saltwater-in-the-afternoon @linasofia@bitter-sweet-farmgirl @yourqueenunderthemountain @guardianofrivendell
84 notes · View notes
Imagine taking polaroids of the company throughout the quest
Okay it’s actually 1AM right now and I just shot up in bed and was like WHAT IF READER FELL INTO MIDDLE EARTH AND TOOK POLAROIDS OF THE COMPANY THROUGHOUT THE JOURNEY AKSJSK THAT’D BE SO CUTE so yeah here it is
So when you fell into middle earth you had on you your mini backpack thingy and inside it was your polaroid camera and like 5 other boxes of extra film
Anyways a while after you meet the company and join on the quest they ask what is in your bag
So you take out your camera and the company is the “....the fawk??”
You explain to them that it’s a camera and what it does
Of course they absolutely loose their shit because to them having their picture taken is an absolutely insane concept
So through out the quest you are always taking tons of pictures of different members of the company doing stupid or cute things
You don’t really mind taking all these pictures and actually you enjoy it
You’re lucky you had your camera with you when you got airdropped into middle earth
Some of the polaroids that you have of or with the company are:
- Fili and Kili hanging upside down on one of the stone trolls
- bofur leaning back in his chair laughing with a mug of ale in his hand (he fell right after that photo was taken)
- A picture of￼ you and Bilbo, that Dori took, asleep by the fire. You both leaning on eachother with a blanket over you two
- Kili face first into a barrel
- Dwalin making a peace sign at the camera (you told him it was an honorable and respectful hand gesture from your world hehe)
-Ori, Fili, Kili, and you sneaking into the kitchen at 2 AM in erebor with shocked expressions (Thorin took this pic after he caught you all) (this is post BOFA and yes they all live)
- Oin stitching up kilis forehead and lecturing him after he did something stupid. What it was you can’t even remember
- You on Fili’s shoulders and Ori on Kili’s playing chicken fight in a river (Balin took this photo)
- Thorin with a flower crown you made for him on his head while he sharpens his axe
- food fight during Rivendell. It has different members of the company zooming in and out of it and food flying everywhere but it’s mainly focused on bombur still just trying to eat and enjoy his food
- bifur with a fish on his head in lake town
- Balin pinching the bridge of his nose because he is the definition of “too old for this shit”
- Ori drawing in his book
- Fili teaching you how to flip knifes in the air
- Gandalf smoking his pipe and a smoke butterfly flying in the air
- gloin, Nori, and bofur in a drink competition
- a selfie of you and Ori, and in the background Thorin stabbing a orc coming at you guys
- a group picture of the entire company and you guys are around beorn’s table eating breakfast (beorn took this one)
164 notes · View notes
Turgon having a crush on you would include:
Although he’s usually pretty quiet compared to his siblings, he’ll go out of his way to avoid speaking with you
If it’s later in his life, perhaps in Gondolin, this won’t have changed much. Although he’s still mature, he tries to keep contact to a minimum in case he embarasses himself
His self confidence isn’t particularly high and he can't help but compare himself to his family. Why would you want him when you could have someone like Fingon or Aegnor?
He’ll keep his crush on you a secret at all costs - there’s no point voicing what you’ll never return.
All he’ll end up doing is ruining his relationship with you and creating an awkward atmosphere
Turgon is also a very private individual and dislikes people knowing his thoughts or emotions in personal matters.
If this is after his first wife, he’ll be even more reclusive. Any feelings he has towards you feel like a betrayal to her so that’s something he’ll need to work through
It’ll take him a long time to make a move to be around you more instead of outright avoiding you. It’ll take him months to gather himself
It’ll be nothing overtly romantic, but Turgon might invite you to go on a walk with him. No doubt, you’d be surprised at first - having suspected he disliked you, but you wouldn't refuse
Turgon isn’t great with words, especially with matters of the heart, so he’ll leave most of the talking to you
But what he lacks in eloquence, he makes up by being a great listener. He’s quite content to listen as you fill the silence chatting about your life, hobbies and interests
As a thinker, he’ll keep that all tucked away, happy on the inside even if it doesn’t seem so to you
You half think he’s not paying attention, only to be shocked when he brings something you said up or asks about something you mentioned a few weeks later
Maybe he was listening after all
64 notes · View notes