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bayern-moni · 4 years

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True or dare : admit your feelings to someone you like or kill them.

Gin: Slightly drastic, Anon, aren't you? You would certainly get along with Aizen-taicho.

Aizen: What are you trying to imply, Gin?

Gin: Nothing, taicho, nothing you'd understand anyway.

Aizen: However, Gin, weren't you the one who bragged about having no heart nor feelings? This Anon here suggests otherwise. Were you lying to me?

Gin: I have absolutely nothing like that! I refuse to be thought of otherwise!

Aizen, smirking at the uncharacteristic irritation showed by his subordinate: As you say, Gin, but the ask speaks clearly. You have to admit your feelings, implied you must also admit you have them in the first place, or just killing your special person like the cold-hearted snake you claim to be. Are you sure you could get that far? I guess Hakufuku would be against the rules, this time. Now that I'm reminded of it, it's time you'd finally confess your undying love bla bla bla to that Matsumoto, isn't it? This is as good as a chance as any.

Gin: Were you ever told you're a massive son of a bitch, captain?

Aizen, looking unfazed and smirking: More or less since the day we met.

Gin: I assure you, you totally deserve the title.

Aizen: So do you, Gin. So do you.

He sipped his tea.

Gin's choice: Admit it or kill

Gin was at loss. Completely and utterly at loss of what to do. He had to admit his feelings to Rangiku. He knew he couldn't kill her, he could never bring himself to harm her, let alone kill her (he didn't even want to think about such things). Physically, at least, because hurting her emotionally seemed to be something he had always been good at. So he had to confess. He wasn't given any other choice. But ... was it really so necessary now? He had already waited for 109 years, a few more years or decades to collect some ideas on how to do it couldn't hurt much, could they? There weren't even guarantees that she wouldn't slap him to death as soon as he just appeared to start talking after all the shit he put her though. Or worse, she could accept. Though, she did cry when he died so maybe he hadn't literally all the odds against him in this endeavor. He didn't understand how, because in his vocabulary one that became a metaphorically human-eating monster didn't exactly had the needed curriculum to be still loved like that, but if she wanted to go on doing it he certainly wouldn't complain. So, how does he do it? He could ask for some advice, given he was totally blank in the matter. Izuru? Nah, scratch that, the boy couldn't say something like that without blushing to death to save his life. Rangiku was obviously out of question. Aizen? He'd rather die (again). Tosen? Absolutely not.

Shit.

"What are you doing here, Gin?" asked the red haired woman, spotting him standing in front of her door with a so dumbfounded look to be almost endearing. Almost.

Shit.

"Rangiku! Long time no see!" he tried to buy some time while his mental gears tried to put together something that wasn't outright idiotic or suicidal. Rangiku raised an eyebrow, skeptical. She looked too much like Aizen when she did that, Gin thought.

"I'm here to confess" managed to say at the end.

"Search for a priest, then"

"No, not that kind of a confession!" he was horrified just at the thought. Wrong start.

"Oh, you finally resigned to admit your feelings for me?" There was a mischievous spark in Rangiku's eyes that forebode nothing good for him. But she looked too happy for him to back down now.

"That's right" he still looked uncomfortable and she had every intention of getting back at him by prolonging this status of his as long as possible. They had the same nature at their core.

"You do know this is the least romantic confession in the history of love confession, right?" Now she was truly amused. He cringed. He loved her, he truly did, but this thing of feelings expression just wasn't for him at all. He couldn't do anything to help it, he was born like that. And she knew it.

"Yes, but you still love me, Rangiku"

Fuck you, Hisagi.

"Of course I do" she smiled, a curve so radiant enlightening her face that her warmth spread around his icy heart as well. "But I'm still waiting for my love confession, dear" another amused smile "Otherwise, I'll tell Unohana-taicho it was you that stole all her medical gauze that time to make poor Kira-kun look like a mummy" He gulped.

"If I did that, she'll probably neuter you or something equally gruesome, nobody was so suicidal to actually defy her ire; so we can only guess how it's ending up on her bad side. Then, do you want to go on? Ah, I always wished for a day like this, I'm so happy, Gin!" Nevermind she had just threatened him if he didn't say anything.

He had truly never had a choice, then. But in the end, it wasn't so bad like his always too paranoid mind was dreading. She did love him, after all.

He smiled. Genuinely for once. And then he went down on his knee.

Gin had every intention of making this the most dramatic and tooth-rotting love confession Rangiku had ever heard. He wanted to be so sappy that Rangiku'd be laughing on the floor by the time he was finished.

So much he'd putting all those rubbish romantic comedies she so loved to shame.

Aizen: It went better than I expected. And here I thought you were going to confess to me.

Gin: If I didn't know better I'd say you are jealous, taicho. Just a few lines before, you actually sounded bitter like you thought of yourself like a nosy third-wheel between me and my lovely Ran-chan.

Aizen: I'm not, of course.

Gin: Sure you are. Nosy and third-wheel, I mean.

Aizen: Mind your words, Gin. Remember that I can decide to make you scrub every toilet in Las Noches anytime and you can't refuse. I even bought a new set of toothbrushes for you to use.

Gin: Are you aware that I did blow a hole in your chest and had Shinso poison you to death?

Aizen: I didn't die, though. It must mean something.

Gin: That you're more difficult to kill than an army of cockroachs? Seriously, taicho, how on earth did you think I was going to admit my supposed feelings to you of all people? We abundantly satisfied the second part of the ask by now.

Aizen: Love and hate are just different sides of the same coin. Merely preconceptions created by humans that didn't get to have their way. So it was entirely possible in a theoretical way.

Gin: ... Sure. And what about you killing me? It'd surely kill the mood, other than, well, me.

Aizen: I just wanted to show you how it's properly done. And in my defense, at the time I felt deeply betrayed.

Gin: Ooh, the understatement of the century. Should I also thank you now, taicho?

Aizen: Gin, you're being overdramatic. We're straying from the topic at hand.

Gin: That is you trying to guilt trip me into confessing to you?

Aizen: Exactly

Gin: You're wasting your time, captain. I'm already taken. Moreover, in your case I'd pick "or kill them" anyday.

Aizen: Where I'm from, It is called denial, Gin.

Aizen's choice: Admit it or kill

It was a night like no-one had ever seen in Hueco Mundo, the eternal darkness softly embraced by the light of brighter moon. The palace of Las Noches was uncharacteristically quiet and only a perturbed voice from the innermost hall of the court could be heard. This voice was smooth and full of emotion, a particular tone that belied its bearer's strangeness with such sincerity. The flow of words like a musical stream of sweetness.

"You are the only one that matter to me, your frame is so lovely that even gods invy you, your existence like a balm for my exhausted nerves. The way eternal shades reflect on the soft lines of your perfection warms my once dead heart like nothing else. You are my whole, you're the existence I couldn't live without. I adore you"

"Taicho, why are you talking to the mirror?" asked Gin and cleared his throat to hide his baffled expression.

"Wasn't the Anon the one who asked for us to admit our feelings to someone we like?" replied Aizen like nothing was wrong.

"And are you talking with the mirror?"

"Yes, I am"

"... Nevermind. I don't want to know"

Part of the Truth or Dare Challenge featuring Gin and Aizen I started yesterday. For the Anon that requested it, I really hope you like it or that at least it made you laugh. Bye bye, everyone!

#bleach #gin ichimaru #gin x rangiku #gin #aizen sousuke #aizen #bleach aizen #aizen x ?#rangiku matsumoto #rangiku #unohana #inappropriate use of tea cup and mirror #Aizen's fault #character meme #ask #anonymous #anon ask #truth or dare challenge #headcanon

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catbowserauthor · 6 years

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Hobbit Story: Of Silver and Mithril: 1

So, this one follows my "Calling in a King's Favor" though you don't necessarily have to read it in order to understand it. I was feeling a need for some paternal!Thorin and I wanted to get some of my head canons on paper!

Red hair blowing in the wind, Tauriel waited amid the remains of Laketown. It wasn’t the most pleasant place to meet but it was certainly quiet and private. Not a lot of folk, be that dwarf, man, elf or otherwise ventured here. They had obtained and salvaged from the city what they could with the conclusion of the battle and so the once bustling port had been left to slowly fade away with time. Time…Her heart felt heavy in her chest the longer she waited. Being an elf, time moved relatively without consequence and yet these minutes felt to be millennia.

“Tauriel!”

Finally.

Emerging from the newly fallen snow was the brown haired prince of Erebor. Trailing at his heels was a white pup that she had heard much about as of late, Goldfire he had been dubbed. The loyalty the creature had already displayed was quite endearing. When Kili came to a stop before her, the wolf child laid by his feet but his ears remained forever tracking. It was appropriate, she felt. A wolf pup of innocence to match the Dwarven Prince who seemed to ooze innocence in all he did. His face, even now, was full of enthusiasm and starlight.

“Sorry, Tauriel.” He laughed, nervously and scratched through his scruff of a beard, “I may just be second heir but that doesn’t mean my uncle is slack with me. It’s just as important for me to know how to run a Kingdom as Fili, he says.” Honestly, it wasn’t so bad. Kili rather enjoyed seeing his uncle’s methods and when his suggestions were considered and even appreciated, he felt light as air. Already, with the kingdom rebuilding, his uncle would routinely ask him or his brother for input. While it was not always accepted, it was always considered. Oh, the pride that could burst in his heart.

It was nothing compared to being with Tauriel though. Her presence, her smile, the very essence of her just made him giddy.

Allowing a light smile to cross her lips, the elf woman remarked “Your Uncle is far wiser than he’s given credit for.” While her interactions with the Dwarf King had been limited, once the Gold Sickness had passed, he seemed a creature of high honor, at least by her standards. She doubted that he’d ever be trustful of elves but the fact he was willing to pursue an alliance despite personal feelings said a lot. With what she knew of the past between the elves of Mirkwood and Erebor, she could hardly blame either side for their reluctance. She doubted if another besides Thorin’s line had taken the throne if such alliances would have even been considered. Yes, for as much as the grouchy dwarf king could be infuriating, she had to give credit where credit was due.

Chuckling a bit and pushing the hair from his eyes, Kili agreed. “Yeah, he is. I’ve learned a lot but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss you!” The truth of that sentiment burned through his eyes like a flame.

Her heart sank again. “Kili, that’s why I wanted to meet with you.” She gave him a smile. “I understand your busy schedule now. Reclaiming a homeland has more work within it than most imagine.” While she had never reclaimed a kingdom, she knew that it took a great deal of work to run one. She was often busy simply being Captain of the Guard or she had been. “I’m almost glad to be relieved of my position as leader of the guard. For all its benefits, the amount of work involved never faltered.” Allowing another smile at the dwarf, she added, “I’m sure you and your brother have been finding that the title of ‘prince’ is not free.”

Laughing a little, Kili remarked “I think it’s been worth it so far though! I’ve never seen my uncle so happy and come spring, more of our people will be coming from the Blue Mountains! You’ll get to see my mother.”

Eyes warm, the elven maiden remarked “I’m sure she is full of strength just as the rest of her bloodline is.”

“She is. Her and Uncle together can be hilarious. Though they work well together.” He smiled and his whole face lit up. “She’ll like you.”

Tauriel took a breath and let it fill her lungs. “Kili, I’ve been meaning to return this to you.” She reached out, took his hand gently lay his stone talisman within it. He had granted it to her before the battle and while she had clung to it a while and made sure that no harm came to it, she knew it was time.

A low laugh came from his throat, one that clouded nervousness. “Tauriel, it was a courting gift. Amrâlimê means “my love” that’s why I gave it to you.” He held his hand back out to her. “It’s yours, Amrâlimê.”

She nodded “I surmised that it meant something along those lines. Your eyes gave all that away. Which is why I must give it back.” She gently folded his palm around it. “I cannot accept it.” She added “I…never should have accepted it.” Oh, the countless nights she had walked the wood, fingering the stone and wondering why she had not given it back. She should have given it back. Was it the moment? Was it the stress of the coming war? Was it a simple, childish desire of her own to fall in love? Perhaps it had been all three but she had no right to play his heart so, nor had that been the intention, but that had ultimately been what she had done.

She had to fix this.

Eyes wide, the Dwarven prince stared “Wh...what? I...I don’t understand...I...” Lost. That was all he looked like…utterly and totally lost. As if he were a forgotten child who was pleading amid the dark night for mother and father to return to him.

It hurt her heart.

“Kili.” Her tone was soft and gentle. “I truly do treasure you. I have lived my whole life among King Thranduil’s halls. I have only known the tales of stars and trees. Yet, here you came with stories of far away places, gems and stone. You carried such passion in your eyes and it was evident in all you did. I do treasure that.” She meant every word of that. Their small conversations in Thranduil’s dungeons had meant the world to her. She had spoken of starlight and moons and Kili had spoken of mines and caves where light sent every gem sparkling like its own fire. He had a deep heart to him and it had initially caught her eye.

Kneeling a bit so she could look him in the eye, she whispered “When I saw you, dying of that Morgul wound, I could only think that what a grievous loss it would be to see someone so full of fire slip away to shadow.” She paused, considered her words “I do care for you. Deeply. But not in the way that you seek.” It had taken her quite a few weeks of self-denial to come to that conclusion but facts were facts. She did care for him, as one might care for a deep friend, perhaps even a brother. She wanted him to do well, she wanted him to be happy, she wanted him to live a long life. Yet, there was not that desire to be one with him, to live out her life WITH him. She was meant to walk side by side with him, for a time, but their paths were not the same.

Kili felt like his world had dropped out from under his feet. “But...but Tauriel....the way we fought together. The way you looked at me. They said you wept when I fell and...” Had that meant nothing? Had their connection meant nothing? Had there been a connection at all? His entire world had become devoted to her. She haunted his every thought! His dreams were often clouded with her image and the image of a potential future (though he did not know how) and perhaps of children. Yes, he had dreamt of lovely children. He had dreamt of waking next to her and knowing the feeling of being wanted, accepted. He had thought she felt the same. The way she smiled, the way she had rushed to his side….had that been him seeing what he wanted to see?

It was breaking apart like shattered glass.

“I did.” She confirmed. “I wept at the unfairness of it. I wept at the possibility of so much passion being snuffed out. I wept for one I could call Elf-Friend. And I rejoiced to hear you survived.” Silence lingered. “But it was not as a lover weeps. I am not the Amrâlimê for you, Kili. That precious token should be saved for one who is.” She hoped deeply for him. He had a wonderful heart and it was a treasured thing to have been a potential recipient of it. When the time was right, she hoped that the world would give him one worthy of it. “You must save it for your true Amrâlimê.”

Willing his eyes to stay dry, for his throat to not construct, the dwarf prince locked eyes with her. She nearly wept herself at the pain in them. “Di...did I do something wrong?” His voice felt small and came out as a meek squeak. He looked like a kicked puppy. Her heart ached for him but Tauriel knew she could not give him what he desired.

“Kili, you did nothing to cause this. I must admit that after we first met, I pondered these feelings myself. As you are, I am young especially by elf standards. I was enticed by such a thought...by falling in love.” Standing back to her full height, she shook her head “Unfortunately, Kili, that’s what it was…I was in love with the idea of being in love. My feelings for you are strong…but they are not love, Mellon.” On that, she knew it. What Thranduil had said to her, about if her love for the dwarf was real, she had found that while yes, it was real, it was not the kind of love she thought it was. Much as she enjoyed his spirit, his spunk, she knew more about the allies they had made in Laketown than she knew about him. She knew she did not want him to die. She knew she wanted him to be able to achieve his dreams. She knew that she wanted him to be happy.

She did not feel an undying desire to be by his side to watch it happen. She did not feel that if he were to die, as all mortals would, that she would fade away. She would be saddened and would mourn but it would not kill her spirit. She did not feel that her own path was interlocked with his. “I want you to be happy, Mellon,” she said again, “But I fear the love you want is not going to be with me. Whomever you find it with is deeply blessed but…it cannot be me, Kili of Erebor.”

Head bowed, hair falling into his eyes, Kili managed a nod. “I understand, Tauriel. I...please don’t let this disrupt the alliance of our people.” It was hard, so hard. Each word was forced out, like choking on sand and fire. “I…still consider you dear to me and…our kingdoms…can learn much from one another. Do not let this…”

“Never, Mellon.” She bowed to him. “As I said, I do care for you and I do have the utmost respect for you. I wish I could give you the affection you seek.” She meant that. She had lain amid the trees, staring at the stars, seeing if her heart would change, if her thoughts would grow, if her desires would shift. She had pondered their conversations, wondered if they could grow into something more. She had felt grief when she thought he was gone and while it was deep and it hurt, it had not broken her. It had not made her ponder about the future with uncertainty. As it was, when the battle had been over, Kili had seemed sure that she would stay with him in Erebor but she had never had a desire. She had been grateful for peace, grateful for the safety of elves, men and dwarves alike but she had never felt more relieved than when Thranduil lifted her banishment. She had wanted to go home. With love, so she had heard, home became that person.

Kili had not become her home.

The young Prince of Erebor stared at the elven woman for a moment longer. Why, he didn’t know. She had made her point abundantly clear. Perhaps he was hoping for her to say it was elvish tradition, a test for endurance or purity or some other such nonsense. Yet, she just stood there, her face devoid of any emotion except sincerity. This was no deeper meaning, no trial. This was simply Tauriel giving him hard, cold facts. It hit like a hammer to the heart but what could he do? He could not change feelings, much as he would like to.

Nodding, as he did not trust himself to speak, Kili turned on his heels and headed back towards Erebor. Goldfire gave a low growl, baring his sharp teeth at the elf woman before trotting after his downtrodden master.

——-

The forges were hot which meant it was not unusual for your eyes to water after a time. You would drip buckets of sweat “if you’re doing it right” as Uncle Thorin often said. There was a reason that most dwarves stripped down to their barest clothes when working the metals in the fire. There were a choice few who would only wear a simple apron to defend against sparks. Thorin had taught Kili and Fili to avoid layers of clothing and they both took care to follow that rule. The forge, while a place of wonderful magic could just as easily turn disastrous.

The slamming hammers made it hard to hear and if you focused on the noises enough, all else was blocked out. Kili remembered his uncle telling him often that if his heart were troubled, he would lose himself amid the noise. Mahal would guide your hand in a craft and if you let your mind and soul drift away from the monotony of the day so that you only knew the rhytmn of the hammers, then there was often a surprise that would emerge beneath your hard working fingers. Lose yourself in Mahal’s presence, Uncle would say.

Kili relished in it.

He didn’t even know what he was making or even if he had an end product in mind. All he knew was that he needed to pound metal. When he’d made his way back into Erebor, he’d found his brother was having his first true meeting with the Dwarf Lords on his own, though he suspected his uncle was near to lend aid if need be. He wouldn’t interrupt that. He could not interrupt that. After all, it was not as if his brother could fix what was happening, fix the anger, sadness and pain that made every step feel like a hike through Middle Earth. Why ruin his brother’s moment for that?

The next best thing was the forge.

The huge fires and hammers of Erebor were luxurious over the small forges that he had grown up using. All the same though, fire and metal was fire and metal. Give a proper dwarf a hammer, fuel and metal and it was all he required. The scurrying of dwarves, here and there, breathed life into the place. It made you feel like you were one with the kingdom, with the spirit of the dwarfdom. The first time Kili had swung a hammer, with his brother, in making the knife for their uncle, he had grinned from ear to ear the entire time, even when his muscles began to ache so much, he swore they had caught aflame.

Now, all Kili could feel was the pain in his heart. He cursed in Khuzdul with each pounding of the hammer. He suspected if this had been the first rejection, he might have sobbed, vented and then moved on. After all, such was the way for love. In their race, with female dwarves being so rare, it was not uncommon for interest to not blossom as one might wish it would. There was concern, deep concern, that their women only bind themselves to those that made them feel whole. He could understand that and even appreciate it.

But it was not the first. Or the second or the third.

It was the sixth.

Each hammer pound triggered memories. One of his childhood friends, Sunna. She’d been one of the few friends he’d had, her and her brother. Usually, they were teased that she could pass as Fili’s younger sister, as she had the same golden shaded hair though she had the rare green eyes of her mother’s clan. They’d been good playmates and good listeners. While Kili could not say that they had never teased him for his unorthodox looks, he knew it was all in jest (or so he thought and hoped it was) until the time came when Kili began to seek out suitors.

He’d always had a love for a potential mate and children, not something all dwarves did. His uncle did not have it and neither did his brother. Their people called it ‘child-longing.’ When the time came to announce their chosen trade to the people, someone with child longing would always announce parenthood first and then their trade. Kili had yet to do his, as that ceremony was done on the old age of majority which had once been 80. Fili had announced his trade as metalsmith, same as his uncle. Fili, despite his looks, had never been interested in mates or children though he did love children, just never wanted ones of his own. Always teased that “if you make me an uncle, I’ll love it!” It was similar to the situation with Thorin, Frerin and Dis. Only Dis had expressed desire for children, her two brothers having been married to their duty, work and craft. It was easy enough to see the same thing in her eldest child. Dis had always teased that if the Durin Line was to continue, it would be through Kili.

Thorin and Fili had been supportive when Kili announced that the concept of parenthood was enticing. “Good, you can handle that part of the heir’s duties, little brother!” Fili had smiled. The years had only increased Kili’s realization that love, a relationship, marriage and eventually children would have to be in his future somewhere, somehow. He’d known it as a youngling and he only became more and more convicned over time. Each rejection and how much it had hurt, only told him that such a feeling was not going to go away.

Sunna was the first.

He’d been young, barely into the teen years by dwarf standards so Kili’d thought a close female friend might be a potential mate. He’d asked Sunna if she might consider it, if they might try to explore that angle. They’d both been young, barely understanding the emotions involved in a relationship at the time. All they had really known was from stories and songs but that didn’t mean they weren’t intrigued by such a concept. It would be a learning experience for them both, Kili had thought.

She’d blushed but politely refused him.

It was the first refusal of now six.

There’d been Friya, who had frequented their uncle’s forge and actually not dismissed his archery as “elf-like.” Hair of coal black and eyes of sapphire blue that had clouded in pity when she’d informed him that she wasn’t looking for “someone like him.” She never expanded to what that meant and he had been too disappointed to inquire. He had attended their annual celebration of Durin’s Day alone that year, sticking by his family and watching longingly at the budding couples among his age group.

There’d been Asjur , a spunky girl with brown hair and grey eyes, who had made a face and asked if he was serious before inquiring if his brother was free instead. That had been the end of that.

There’d been Sifa, a girl with red hair in long flowing braid with a beard to match, whom upon him stammering out his request had laughed in his face and she’d not stopped laughing for a good five minutes. When he had still been standing there after her fit, she had nearly lost her composure again and wheezed out “Not before the remaking of the world, elf-boy!”

The last dwarrowdam he’d asked had been ten years ago. A soft spoken lass named Idua whom had mirrored his looks if only in coloring (she had a beard that rivaled some males twice her age) that had gone with him on a few outings and then confessed that she would not be able to stomach the marriage bed with him because of his “unslightly” looks. She had tried to be delicate with her words but there really was no ‘nice’ way to tell someone you found them so unattractive that the thought of producing children with them was sickening.

Now Tauriel.

Maybe he should have expected it. After all, if the women of his own race rejected him then why would an elf of Tauriel’s status be intrigued by him? While she apparently was a ‘low-born’ elf, she still had her pick of a great many elven men. Why would a dwarf archer catch her eye? The more he thought about it, the more it made no sense. Why? Why did he think there was anything there? Because she was kind to him? Because she fought on his side in a war that expanded way beyond the realm of Erebor?

Because he wanted it to be more?

Kili’s eyesight was growing misty with unshed tears. The sight of the glowing hot metal blurred.

Why? What was he doing so wrong to be continually rejected? He knew he could be a bit of a prankster but he took care to never do anything deeply damaging and he had never tried such things on anyone he did not know intimately. He tried to take his uncle’s lessons on decorum to heart and he routinely told himself that he would honor any potential mate on the same level, if not more so than, than the honor he bestowed on his mother. He would treat them like a princess, no, like a queen!

He had done that with each of his previous attempts. He had brought gifts of well-being, of good intent. He had offered his aid, a listening ear, anything he thought might ease their own workload. He had done everything he could think of to do in order to show his sincerity, his devotion.

So why? All he wanted was someone to love and who would love him back. All he wanted was a family of his own, children to call his own. He loved his brother, his uncle, his mother. He wanted to be able to shower little dwarves of his own with the same kind of affection he had grown up with. He wanted a lady by his side that would smile at him, that would look upon him and love him for what she saw. What was wrong with him? It was one thing to have one, perhaps two rejections before finding your one. But…six? Was he cursed...?

“My Prince!”

The warning came a moment too late and the hammer, having narrowed the metal to hair thin, shattered the final fragment connecting it and metal splintered everywhere as the hammer connected full on with anvil, sending a vibrating pain up Kili’s arm that made his teeth chatter. The sharp pain from the metal cutting into his lower arm came a moment later. He dropped the tool and clutched his wrist, willing the sharp and intense pain to fade away. At least it blocked out those self-defeating thoughts for a moment…

“Your Highness!”

A cloth was wrapped hastily over the cut on his arm and Kili blinked, recognizing one of the dwarven smiths who had stayed when Dain Ironfoot went home, seeking a life in Erebor. Nice enough dwarf and devoted as one could be to the Royal family. He was older, had strips of silver starting in his dark black hair and his beard was more silver than black already. He was a warrior, well known for charging into the fray, a story that the scars over his face told well. Went by Audun if he remembered right.

“Prince Kili, are you alright?” The dwarf’s thick baritone cut through Kili’s daze. Looking down at his arm, which was only bleeding slightly, Kili nodded “I...I’m alright Audun. Just...distracted.” He gently moved his hammer from anvil back to the counter and went to scoop up the fractured pieces of shattered metal, blinking his tears away as best he could but Audun gently grabbed his shoulder. The older dwarf pushed his beard aside and stated gently, setting firm eyes on the younger one.

“If I may, my Prince.” He offered. “I’ll clean this up. Please, go tend your arm. It may not be deep but metal is never good to let linger in a wound.”

Yes. Yes, of course. Amateur rule. He should know this...

Nodding mutely, Kili thanked him “Of course, thank you, Audun.” He slowly walked out of the forges, and was glad to be rid of the eyes on him.

He likely should have stopped to see Oin but he had no desire. He’d clean it himself. It wasn’t the first cut he’d received from broken metal and it would hardly be the last. A forge-master that had no scars was no true master. If he had to patch himself up, the more he’d remember. Yes, yes, that would be his reasoning. The less people he had to interact with right now, the better. He even found he had no will to greet his pup when he bounded at him as he emerged from Erebor’s belly. He simply kept walking, eyes blank, until he got to the Royal Wing.

“Prince Kili?” One of his personal guard, Mahnar, addressed him gently. “Are you alright?”

For a moment, Kili considered telling him. Mahnar, while older than him, was no older than Ori. He’d actually wanted to come along on the journey to Erebor when Thorin had asked for aid but his family had been so against it and he did not wish to be disrespectful to their wishes. Such things could be tricky, especially among Dwarf families. You always wanted to be respectful to your elders and even if Mahnar wanted to lend his aid, he would not blatantly go against his family’s decision. Though, when they finally responded after Smaug’s death, Mahnar had been the first one out onto the rams. His ferocity on the battlefield had been rewarded and when Thorin had offered him a spot defending the royal family, he could not say yes quickly enough. It was a statement to his loyalty and skill to be trusted to defend Thorin’s heirs.

Kili had formed an understanding with Mahnar, a friendship of sorts though it could not be a true friendship. Hard to be close friends with someone when the very essence of their job included dying to ensure you lived.

Still, given their closeness in age, it was usually easy for Mahnar to sympathize with Kili. Talks between the two of them were not uncommon but today, not even Mahnar’s friendly and concerned face was a comfort. He ignored the inquiry and paused, briefly, hand on his door and then turned to look him in the face. Kili was the least formal of his family. It was something he could afford as he was neither the King nor the direct heir. He got the benefits without a lot of the responsibility.

In this case though, he meant to utilize some of the power he held but rarely used.

“I wish not to be disturbed.” Kili said simply, numbly, before walking into his personal chambers. “Not until I say otherwise. No one.”

“...understood.” Mahnar managed before the door shut entirely.

If Kili noticed his pup had not followed him in, he made no mention of it. He’d every intention of going to clean his arm. Instead, he made it as far as the bed, pulled the curtains tight around it and flopped down on the sheets. The youngest prince wept.

——

“Lad’s doing well,” Dwalin noted though he didn’t move from his recline near the door. The meeting would be drawing to a close soon and while Fili had shown no issue thus far, they really didn’t want to leave without warning. Dwarves were volatile folk and it would be all too easy for a seemingly perfect meeting to suddenly erupt into chaos. Much as they thought Fili could handle it, no point in throwing the lad to the wolves so to speak. Thorin in particular remembered such a thing happening when he was a young Prince and while the chaos had taught him well how to handle a sudden eruption of temper, he had always wished his father had not just left him to figure it out. He did not want to do such a thing with his eldest sister-son.

It was beginning to look as if his caution was for naught though. If the action from within the meeting room was any indication, the eldest heir of Erebor certainly needed no aid. Thorin offered a smile through his beard and gave another puff of smoke as he addressed his oldest friend. “He learns well and quick. I know sometimes it’s hard to believe but they both do.”

Chuckling, Dwalin remarked “I think my brother may challenge you on that, Thorin.” Though he moved so he was leaning against the wall next to his king.

Throwing a playful glare his way, Thorin amended “They learn quick and well when they wish to.”

Dwalin’s response was cut off when Thorin suddenly jerked to the side. Had he been any less of a seasoned warrior, the swift shift of balance might have knocked him over but as it was, he managed to grab the wall and remain upright.

“Mahal’s...” Thorin’s curse was cut off by the sound of a deep throated growling, in the form of a little white furred pup who had sank his teeth into Thorin’s boot cuff. “Goldfire, no!” The Dwarf King gently pushed the pup off only for it to then latch onto Thorin’s sleeve and jerk its head back and forth, not once relenting on the growls.

“Where’s your master, Pup?” Dwalin inquired simply, looking around for the youngest prince. He was rarely without his pet. That thing followed him around like an extra shadow. Fili was just as bad with his. The weapons master was well aware that the elder heir had a black furred pup sitting under the council table at his feet this very moment.

Goldfire was not persuaded. If anything, he became more insistent, shaking his head so violently that it threatened to tear Thorin’s tunic. The Dwarf King shoved him off, a bit more roughly. “Goldfire, I said no!”

The pup yelped a little before turning in several tight circles, sitting on its haunches and howling. He ran out the door then back in, scratched at the doorframe before running right in front of the two dwarves and howled again.

Continuously.

“You’re the one that said they could keep ‘em.” Dwalin felt inclined to remind his king.

Calling his friend a rude term under his breath, the Dwarf King was very close to considering making a hat out of the pup when Audun made his way up from the forges. Not too unusual and to be frank, Thorin was rather surprised that more dwarves were not pouring in, demanding that the annoying howling be dealt with. Audun was not one to be easily bothered though and when he saw the noisy pup, he seemed even more disturbed before setting his eyes on Thorin. Bowing low on one knee, as he was want to do whenever greeting the King, he spoke out, “Your Majesty, if I may inquire?”

“Stand, Audun, son of Audal.” Thorin said in response though he had to heighten his volume a bit to be heard over the wolf pup’s howling. Thorin was very tempted to have Dwalin toss the pup outside but Audun had the Dwarf King’s attention currently.

“Forgive me for interrupting, My King, but I wanted to inquire if Prince Kili was doing better.”

Blinking in surprise, Thorin asked, concern lacing his voice, “Doing better?”

“Aye,” the dwarf smith continued “Got a mild injury in the forge earlier and the lad seemed…distant. Distracted. Hard to tell sometimes with him but something was off. I assumed he came and found you or his brother…”

“Fili’s been stuck with the old dullards all afternoon,” Dwalin offered. “Lad probably decided to not bug us about it when he couldn’t talk to his brother.” Kili, and Fili too for that matter, could be quite infuriating at times. They usually were great supports to one another but while Thorin would easily stop a war to tend to his sister sons if need be, they were still hung up on ‘bothering’ him, especially now that the kingdom was getting back into its old glory again. Talked about not being a ‘burden’ to their uncle now that he was rightful king. Never mind that he never stopped being an uncle! Dwalin was half tempted to box their ears half the time for it. If they were up front about things, so much fuss could be avoided.

But then, that WAS the Durin Line stubbornness.

Thorin’s lips were pursed in a tight line “Any idea on what was on his mind?”

Audun shook his head “Couldn’t tell. Looked like he mighta been trying not to cry though.” He hated to add that, knowing all too well the pride of dwarves and especially of the Durin line but that was the very reason why he felt he needed to bring it up. Such a thing was surely a sign of horrific news!

Dwalin and Thorin exchanged a glance. While Kili was without a doubt the more sensitive of the two brothers, it was still rare for him to openly cry outside of the privacy of his own chambers. Even amongst family members, Kili usually reserved his tears for when he and his brother were alone unless it was something deeply troubling. In that latter case, he might allow Thorin to see him shed a few tears. It was rare though and the idea that he had been crying, or at least, trying not to cry, worried the both of them.

“I’ve not seen my youngest sister-son.” Thorin began and stumbled again when Goldfire once more began to tug on his boot before howling once more. “Is that why you are carrying on so?” he inquired of the creature who simply howled again in response. Glancing backward towards the council room, Thorin jumped a bit when Dwalin’s hand fell on his shoulder.

“Go find the youngest lad, Thorin. I’ll mind this one.” He jerked his head towards the council chamber. “Lad sounds like he’s wrapping up. I’ll usher ‘em down to the kitchens for some ale.”

Giving a nod, Thoirn stated “Tell him that I’ll be back to debrief him…and congratulate him as soon as I’m able.” Glancing down at the white wolf pup, Thorin declared “Alright, bothersome thing, please tell me that you can be of some use.”

With a half yelp, the creature took off for the hall and Thorin followed.

#the hobbit AND LOTR are awesome #The Hobbit movies had potential #the hobbit fanfiction #The Durin Line lives damn it #post BOTFA AU fanfiction #UNCLE THORIN #Fili and Kili are Thorin’s treasures #Thorin is a good uncle #Thorin knows more about parenting than he gets credit for #Kili is ugly by dwarf standards #Kili is also a sweetheart #heartbreak sucks #BOTFA fix it #erebor post BOTFA #Kili and Tauriel #Kili and Tauriel's relationship is not quite romantic in my head #Though I do like Tauriel

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