#she knew and remembered the dwarves and used the khuzdul place names and understood his grief in a sort of generational way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thorinsbestie · 3 years

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First time writing in english, is still hard for me to make paragraphs have sense, sorry :'3

War and Victory

Five months stood in the past since (y/n) magically appeared in front of everyone's eyes thanks to a mischief of Gandalf, after that she had been reluctantly accepted into Thorin's Company. Her relationship with the dwarves at first was not the best, however with the passing of days it improved little by little; now everyone treated her as if she were an old friend of theirs.

(Y/n) was lively, although most of her scandal and shamelessness led her to be the victim of the constant scolding that Thorin dedicated to his nephews. The three of them were somewhat common personalities, after a week or two the Li brothers and (y/n) had easily turned to nail and grime. It was no wonder why they had become best friends so quickly, both princes adored her, especially since (y/n) used to cunningly challenge their uncle, defying his words with a playfulness that drove the poor dwarf king mad and ended him musing incomprehensible words in khuzdul.

Today everyone had stopped in a town of men to reload ammunition of food and medicinal herbs. Being so late Thorin had agreed to stay in a tavern, the dwarves would share two rooms and the last one was left free for Bilbo, Gandalf and the human; luckily for (y/n) the hobbit was downstairs with the rest of the Company enjoying their free time. (Y/n) needed to talk with the Istari about a painful subject that she had been hiding in the depths of her soul since her arrival in Middle Earth.

As they approached the Lonely Mountain her heart stumbled more full of regret while remembering the tragic losses that all would suffer in the future.

"Gandalf, it's time for us to talk," she began, turning her cheerful face off with a pained expression, "you told me in the beginning that it was you who brought me here. You revealed to me that you were aware of everything I know about the future of Durin's sons and you asked me to keep the secret until I understood the purpose of my visit" the wizard looked towards the wood of the floor instead of her pleading eyes "I ... I think or rather I feel that from the first moment I came I knew what my role was. Five months have passed and my suspicions about this purpose it's now confirmed ... and I... I have made a mistake" she swallowed "a feeling that I already brought with me from my world was reinforced, I feel so desperate to prevent them from dying that…"

"Do you think it is correct to change the flow of events?" the wizard interrupted.

"I believe… is no longer important if this is correct or not. I adore Fili and Kili, and I love Thorin. I have been in love with him since I read his story in my world!"

"And do you love him enough to lay down your life for him?" he asked sternly. Gandalf's pale eyes piercing her soul. "You must think wisely about what you want to do, young lady. Yes, it is true that I have brought you to be the one who is choosing the destiny of Durin, and I know this is a difficult decision. But why would you lay down your life for someone whose feelings are not mutual?" his words were a hard blow to (y/n), but she remained firm "what will you gain by saving them? If Thorin lives he will be king of a kingdom of dwarves, do you think there will be an opportunity for you if you survive as well? Do not judge me as cruel, I just want to open your blind eyes from an illusion whose expectatives of being fulfilled are almost nil. If Thorin becomes king he must marry a dwarrowdam, a lady of noble birth; diplomacy does not allow a human to sit on the queen's throne or let an hybrid inherit the crown" his face became sympathetic, almost paternal "think, dear (y/n), you love Thorin however you don't need to risk your life for your feelings to be returned".

By now with such crude words spilled out from Gandalf's mouth, (y/n) was already biting the inside of her cheek as helding the fat tears that yearned to fall from her eyes.

"I don't care about my feelings! If he lives, I'll go happily into the arms of death!" she exclaimed with a broken voice, "he has been one of my greatest wishes! I am willing to fulfill it at all cost!"

The dwarves found themselves drinking huge mugs of ale that accompanied the stories and jokes that were told. The atmosphere down there was happy, even Thorin kept a tiny curve in his lips that, unfortunately, fell as soon as his eyes were fixed on the person who was coming down the distant stairs in a hurry. The dwarf King distinguished crystal drops sliding in her face. She was crying. Why was she crying? Why was her vivacity reduced to ashes? At no time in the five months that they had been sharing Thorin had seen her discouraged like that.

Without even thinking about it Thorin apologized and got up following (y/n), who had left the tavern. He didn't just go with her out of curiosity, night was falling, it was dangerous for her to be defenseless outside but he would never admit it out loud, not yet at least.

Thorin found her curled up in the barn where the ponies rested, her arms hugging her legs that kept her face hidden. He approached carefully as she quietly sobbed. Was a matter of time when Thorin felt his throat go dry as he discovered how much he hated seeing her so blue.

"(Y/n)...? " he called soft.

When he didn't obtain an answer, he preferred to take a seat next to her. Thorin gently dropped his hand on her back for support. There he stood by his side, feeling unable to formulate a word as he heard the heartbroken whimpers that made him wonder what was the reason for such sadness. And finally, after half an hour she calmed down, straightened her back and proceeded to lean against the wall of wood; her expressionless face was soaked, eyelids as reddish as her nose, yet the pained glow reflected from her orbs was the last straw for Thorin's patience.

"Who made you cry?" he asked demandly.

"Myself," (y/n) said in a whisper "Thorin, please answer this with honesty. If you were aware that your life is shortened with each step taken ... and if you have in your hands the possibility of preventing it, would you do it? Would you try to save yourself?"

What kind of question was that?

Upon analyzing his words, Thorin was clearly desconcert.

"What are you talking about (y/n)? Is your life in danger?"

"Answer my question, please" she turned her face bathed in anxiety, "would you save yourself even if it means paying with what you love the most?"

"I wouldn't, living without what I love the most would be a punishment worse than death. Tell me now, what is wrong with you? Are you ill? Should I call Óin?"

(Y/n) smiled without grace, but such action was interpreted by the dwarf as the synonym of a goodbye. A bad feeling took hold of his stomach that churned at the simple idea of losing her, because Mahal, it was clear than water how much Thorin appreciated her. She was his One! His true love, and if she had fallen from another world right into his arms it was because she was predestined for no one but him; she was his by right.

"Since the first time I met you in my world you became my greatest admiration, Thorin, and for that reason I would follow you further to Mandos' halls"

"Don't say that, (y/n), I haven't …"

"I'm sorry" she interrupted getting up and wiping another fallen tear, "keep in mind that no matter how difficult the circumstances are, I will be by your side until ... until my visit to these lands is over, I promise you."

Her words were never erased from Thorin's memory.

On Raven Hill there was no noise except for the cries of a King crying disconsolately the name of his One. She was slowly perishing in his arms. The dwarf did not cry easily since his heart was made of stone, however his hardness was cracking, cracking to release the unbearable pain that he suffered when he saw that life abandoning the human's eyes.

Why? he wondered, why had she taken her place? Why had she given her life in exchange for his?

Minutes before this heartbreaking scene, a battle had unfolded between Thorin Oakenshield and Azog the defiler. The King had no other thought than defeating the orc. At no time crossed through his mind the thought of (t/n) leaving the throne room where he had demanded her to wait for his return until the war was over. Thorin thought she had listened to him, but now the misfortune of her disobedience was manifested by a reddish thread of blood that trickled from between her lips and ran down her chin, staining her shirt more than it had already caused the deep wound on her abdomen.

"Thorin ... don't cry ..." she spoke in low whispers.

"Why have you broken your word? I asked you to stay on the throne where you'd have been protected, why have you taken death for me?! You shouldn't have ...!" Thorin broke into sobs, "you can't abandon me, don't do it, I implore you to stay with me"

"Don't you remember what I told you? I would go by your side further to Mandos' halls. I have come to Middle Earth with a purpose that I have already fulfilled, my visit is over" she smiled weakly. "I knew your destiny. Many times I begged in my world for being able to change it and give you the happiness of enjoying your effort to recover Erebor. My wish was listened, and…. " a fit of coughing interrupted her. Each second passed her voice was hard to hear" I will leave happy knowing that you can be King, Thorin…"

The dwarf never imagined that she would actually follow him to Raven Hill, that (y/n) would wait hidden in the mist and debris to impose her goal. He didn't see her coming when she leapt to get between the sharp edge that was pointing against his torso. He even had a chance to push her away from him.

"How could you be so cruel to yourself? You didn't owe me anything! Then why did you give your life for me ?! Why did you do it ?!"

"Because ..." her eyes narrowed, already becoming opaque, "I have admired you since I read your noble feat in a book, because I fell in love as an innocent little girl night after night, the naive illusions of meeting my hero one day in person were just lovely…." she was about to die "because I grew up adoring you and… I have loved you since the first moment I met you… Tho… rin… " her voice finally trailed off.

Her eyes finally got closed. She did not speak any more.

" (Y/n) ....? (Y/n) wake up, please open your eyes givashel, wake up, open your eyes!" cried the king in despair "please come back to me! You cannot abandon me!"

The cries returned, Thorin clung to the human's body as if he wished with all his soul to become one with her. His tears fell without frenzy, drenching the face that would have loved with such devotion if fate had not unjustly taken her away from his embrace. At that moment Thorin felt alone again as when he lost his father and grandfather during the Battle of Azanulbizar. This time Fili, Kili and (y/n) joined the memories that only came to life in his head; the three partners in shenanigans slipped from his hands like souls he could never caress or see.

In war there is no victory when lives as loved as those of your family have been lost.

#thorin x you #Thorin #hobbit #thorin x reader #Sad #Death #hobbit fandom #hobbit x reader

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grundyscribbling · 6 years

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from the anon: Maedhros with real Dwarven babies :) I bet that they must look like tiny dolls for him

Ok, anon. You asked. Here you go, ~2000 words of Maedhros and dwarves, some of whom are babies:

Maedhros straightened, subtly checking that he was dressedappropriately. He needed this meeting to go well. If it did not…

The consequences did not bear thinking on. He has lost father,brothers, and cousins, but he will notlose his children. The children, hereminded himself yet again. They are not his, though they are likely the closestto sons of his own he will ever have. He tried not to think of them in suchterms, to keep them kinsmen and not sons. It has not worked.

Elrond and Elros’ lives depend on his success this day. Thatleft him no choice - he must succeed.

There was only so much that could be done withintermediaries, when dealing with dwarrows. Beyond a certain point, theyexpected to negotiate face to face. Underlings might be trusted with preliminaries,but not with finalizing such a treaty as he sought.

It at least had novelty on its side. Morgoth will not expectthis – indeed, he is likely even now preparing to cut Amon Ereb off from anypossible escape to the Sea. The Enemy could sense the change in the West windseven as they could. He will expect them to send the children to Balar beforemaking their last stand. That they would instead strike out East would neverenter his head. That they would bring Thingol’s last surviving heirs here of all places…

The dwarrows of Návarot have both traded and warred with theelves of Beleriand, but never before have they sheltered them.

Maedhros smoothed his hair and straightened his circlet,smothering a smile as he did. Would that Elros could have been here to see thatsuch things were as needful in their proper time and place as he has been toldfor the past seven years.

The twins’ lessons have turned to dwarrows of late, thoughof course the boys do not yet realize why. If today goes well, in a few short weeks,they will know all.

“Greetings, Prince Maedhros.”

The speaker was as richly dressed as Maedhros himself, for onformal occasions, dwarrows showcased their work. This was not the finest eitherof them had to offer – that would be reserved for the presence of the king,probably at dinner that evening – but it was not far off.

Maedhros had opted for the copper circlet he liked best, acollaboration between his brother and his father in the days before Fëanaro wasopenly feuding with his brother, set with several clear white stones. They werenot the Silmarils, but their light remembered the Trees, and few gems craftedhere in Beleriand could equal them. His tunic was a rich red brocade, which heotherwise seldom had cause to wear these days.

His counterpart, of course, outshone him. The dwarrow’s beardwas an easy match for Maedhros’ hair, but woven with bands of silver studdedwith gems the elves named star sapphire but the dwarrows called Light of Mahal,and the ornamental leather jerkin over a deep blue doublet was embroidered withgold and silver as fitted a prince of the realm.

“Prince Kheli,” he replied with a formal bow.

Kheli smirked, and Maedhros knew it meant he had still notquite mastered the proper pronunciation.

At least he had trained himself to use only the masculineaddress when speaking. Dwarrows did not use gendered forms of address, preferringwhat both Sindarin and Quenya generally translated as male pronouns and titlesfor all, for they considered gender to be a private matter. Maedhros had notdealt with any of the other clans, but he knew the Firebeards found it ratherodd and perhaps even a bit insulting that the taller kindreds openly made suchsharp distinctions between male and female.

“Have no fear, Copperhead. A lisp is not an insult,” Kheliassured him. “I dare say many will find it endearing. And perhaps a bitreassuring.”

The flicker of Kheli’s eyes up and down his long frame didnot escape him. He was considered tall by his own people. To the dwarrows hewas a veritable giant. The largest of them stood only to his waist.

“At further risk of insult, honored prince, I had expectedto meet your father,” Maedhros ventured. “I had understood him to be amenableto my proposal.”

He definitely didn’t miss the twinkle in Kheli’s eye.

“You might wish to review your Khuzdul, noble friend,” Khelitold him. “That word is formarriages, not treaties or trade.”

He inclined his head politely. Such a mistake was probably aneven greater faux pas given that he knew he spoke to the daughter, not the son ofthe Telakh. (It had been some years of dealing with both the king and theprince before Maedhros realized that, and he had never raised the point, uncertainif it was rude to acknowledge it or not.)

“I live to learn, venerable one” he replied, hoping he hadthe phrase correct. It had originated among the dwarves, but was as apt for hisown people as it was for them.

Kheli nodded in return.

“As do we all,” she replied gravely. “And yet – my father isno longer young by our reckoning, though in yours I understand he would bescarce more than a youth. He feels that as it will be those younger than himwho must bear the consequences of this agreement, for good or ill, the finalsay should be mine, not his. He leaves the decision in my hands.”

Maedhros paused, considering.

Kheli would be King after her father, but he had not expectedthat for another fifty to a hundred years – years it may yet prove that none ofthem truly have, given that Morgoth now dominates nearly all of Beleriand andhas never known the meaning of satisfied orenough.

“In that case, Prince Kheli, I would hear your thoughts onmy – suggested course of action?”

It was frustrating not being sure of his words, but thegesture of using the dwarrows’ preferred language has been too well receivedfor him to abandon it now. And the folk of Návarot pride themselves on honesty –part of the reason their rage at Thingol had run so deep – so he knew they wouldensure he signed nothing he does not fully understand.

“Walk with me, tall one,” she suggested, looking rather amused.“You may need to be careful of your head – these halls have been enlarged withyour kind in mind, but you are the tallest elf we have ever seen, Elu Tightfistincluded.”

Maedhros thanked her as gravely as he could, given that hereally wished to laugh. If nothing else, the elves of Amon Ereb and thedwarrows of Návarot had this much in common: they agreed Thingol had been a fool.

It turned out he only needed to duck twice – the corridorsand even the rooms they passed were all more than acceptable by elvenstandards, and wanted only furnishings to be comfortable. They might lack thegrandeur and elegance of Menegroth, but Maedhros and his brother had not askedfor elegance – security was their priority, and space enough for their peopleand their animals their main requirement.

The hall Kheli stopped in was not empty. There were severaldwarrows within, attendants if Maedhros judged correctly. And something he hadnever seen before – dwarrow younglings.

He regretted more than ever not bringing one or both boys.The young always seemed to get on, regardless of what their elders might do.

“My sons,” Kheli announced. “Gabil and Farin.”

Gabil was old enough to walk cautiously on his own, butFarin was still only a babe in arms. Maedhros had no sense of what their agesmight be, and did not trust that it might not be some breach of etiquette toask.

“You honor me, Prince Kheli,” he said cautiously, uncertainwhat the proper compliment would be. “They look to be fine, strong children.”

“I hope it proves so,” she replied.

And then, to his immense surprise, she handed Farin to him.

Maedhros managed not to drop the tiny child, but it was anear thing given how shocked he was. The little one was scarce more than ahandful for him, and looked solemnly up at him, apparently less disconcerted atbeing held by a giant than Maedhros was at holding a child so very little.

He blinked at the unfamiliar sound of dwarvish laughter.

“It’s only a wee thing, he’s much too small to take an axeto you yet,” one attendant chortled before Kheli hurriedly hushed him.

“I am honored by your trust, Prince Kheli,” Maedhrosstammered. “But I must ask – why am I holding your son? Are you not worried?”

“Less worried than I would be had you not asked thequestion, or shown such obvious concern not to do him harm,” she repliedsolemnly. “You’ve dealt with us before, Prince Maedhros. You know well that we maydrive a bargain, but at the heart of our business we have always treated eachother as equals.”

“Indeed,” Maedhros said, solemnly offering Farin the tip ofhis little finger. The tiny dwarrow gavehim a puzzled look when he discovered it to be much larger than the fingers hewas used to grabbing at, and gummed it indignantly as if that might bring itdown to size.

“I have heard that this treaty is for the good of your young,”Kheli continued. “You know you are taking a risk in bringing them here. Iwanted you to see that you are not the only one at risk in this venture.”

Maedhros offered young Farin back to his mother, whoaccepted him without any sign of undue worry.

“You worry enough for both of us, Copperhead,” she observeddrily. “I did presume that as you have young ones of your own, you had held a child before.”

“Never one so small,” Maedhros murmured.

“Ah, yes, I suppose our infants would not be as large asyours,” Kheli said ruefully. “It would make birthing rather difficult. There, nowwe have both learned something this day.”

Gabil toddled boldly up – he did not even reach as high asMaedhros’ knee – and lifted his arms imperiously, unwilling to miss out on hisshare of the visitor’s attention.

Maedhros, after a quick glance at the prince of Návarot, pickedthe child up and sat him on one shoulder, where the boy squealed with delightat his unexpected perch.

“These ones will not be old enough to wield an axe, if thewar you expect comes as you say it will,” Kheli told him grimly. “We – you andI, your people and mine – will have to be enough to protect them.”

“We may not be enough to protect my young,” Maedhros repliedquietly, doing his best to keep one eye on the boy on his shoulder lest he fall.“The Enemy wants them dead. And theymay well be old enough to take up arms in their own defense before the end.”

“So long as you understand the stakes, and that we expect noless in defense of ours than we offer for the protection of yours,” Kheli saidfirmly, “then we have a deal, elf.”

Maedhros looked down sharply, though he did not release hiscautious hold on the young dwarrow.

“We do?”

“Indeed, Prince of the Noldor. Tumunzahar has not forgottenour old grudge against the evil in the North that slaughtered so many of ourkind and daily defiles our Maker’s works, nor your reputation for being hischiefest foe. But for the sake of your young, I would say we should set pen topaper without further delay, that you not wait any longer to move them. Messengersarrived this morning from Gabilgathol, and I suspect the warning they bringmeans your time runs shorter than you guessed.”

Maedhros thanked whatever Vala might hear him that theyalready had nearly everything in readiness. The fortress could be evacuatedbefore the week was out.

“Then let us conclude our treaty, Prince Kheli,” he said,swinging a reluctant Gabil back down, “and I will send word to my people atonce.”

#fic #not on AO3 yet #Maedhros #dwarves #Nogrod #pardon my khuzdul

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