#thorin fan fiction

[snazzynacho]

Snapdragon & Co.

The Hobbit fan fiction/Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!fairy!elf!oc

Masterlist

Chapter One: Last of their kind

Chapter 2

Love had always felt like a distant dream to Nessa.

A fantasy one's imagination makes up to cope with the everlasting loneliness of what it meant to be a ranger. Even more so when she was turned away from the only place she could call home.

Even if she never particularly liked the elves, her being half-elf meant she grew up in the core of Elvish life. Rivendell. Her mother who was dying of a broken heart didn't help either. Especially since she is still knocking on death's door years later. Nessa presumed it would be easier to deal with her mother as if she's already passed than to watch her slowly dying.

It's not like her mother would care anyway. The last she heard of her was that she was doing much better since Nessa left. Seeing her daughter obsess over everything fairy-related must've been the cause for her decline. And Nessa's leaving, despite how horrible it sounds, made her survive.

Being Half-Elf and growing up in Rivendell meant Nessa would have always been fighting to fit into a world that saw her as a joke. A 5'3 half-elf half-fairy whose loud bubbly and, at most, eccentric personality only made her stick out like a sore thumb. I guess she could blame the fairy genes for that...But she never wanted to blame her fairy heritage for anything! The few times she had heard about the Fae from her mother appealed to her greatly. The lost race of the fairies would always hold a place in her heart. She was proud of her origin.

The Fairyland, though practically nonexistent today, sounded like the perfect place for her. If only it wasn't for the major depletion it accumulated in all of time, she would be living the dream by now. Thus her Elvish mother took her to Rivendell when she was a baby.

Also, because her fairy father flew off. (Literally.)

__________________

In a quiet clearing on the outskirts of a woodland, near a village in Bree, Nessa received a letter.

Upon opening, almost unreadable scribbles - assumed to be due to someone's shaky old hands scrambling to write their last words from their death bed - become clear and her theory of someone old writing this letter only made more sense to her as she began to read;

Dear, long lost sister.

                            My name is Rogue. All I've been told is that we have the same father. Sometime after he left you he became my father also. So, I am writing you this letter in the hopes that you may want to talk. You don't know me and I don't know you and yet we're sisters. Deep down I know you will do anything for me and I'll do the same for you.

This is why I want to ask, Would you like to meet in person? I will be arriving shortly.

We sure have a lot to catch up on. Time is of the essence, my dear sister.

From,

Rogue.

Nessa's eyes were as wide as her pet Owl's when she refused to give her another treat, and her mouth was agape. Nessa's had a long-lost sister this whole time and only finds out now?!

If this sister is who they say they are, they must be old now, as she speculates. Half-human. Half-Fae. Rogue is right, time is not on their side. Death seems to follow Nessa and even still, plagues a half-Fae-half-human.

The sweet hoot of her owl (Pilvi) and the gentle flapping of its wings brought Nessa back to her surroundings. She must pack a bag immediately. Food. Water. Medicine if needed. What state is Rogue in? Are they ill? Is that why they've waited all this time to contact them? Humans don't live long after all. Or had they only just heard about Nessa, as Nessa had about them? Is it too late to meet them? She received this letter weeks ago...

Her pet owl hooted again.

"Aw Pilvi, sorry, were you hooting for me?" Nessa caressed her bird and watched her enjoy it. Pilvi's eyes squinted and her head relaxed as if the loving touch could melt her.

Her precious hoot filled the room once again and Nessa cooed back, softly speaking to her.

Interrupting them, a knock sounded. It was uncommon for Nessa to receive visitors. Not after the fairyland practically died out. This must be some kind of trick, ironically.

Pilvi was flustered. Her wings sprayed in and out continually. After calming her owl down, Nessa grabbed the nearest item that she could find, which could be used as a weapon.

A frying pan.

Nessa slowly opened the door, peering out. An unknown figure stood in the pouring rain. Their fur cloak visibly weighed heavy on their shoulders as it soaked with rain. Along with wet blue locks of hair that peaked from under their hood.

"Oh, my, are you lost?" Nessa asked worriedly. She pondered to herself as to what might have happened to this poor soul out there in the woods in the rain.

"I am Rogue, your sister."

"Oh. You're not old,"

Rogue blinked in surprise.

"Excuse me?"

"You're human. Aren't you supposed to be old? Dying on your deathbed?" Nessa waved the frying pan about as she confusingly tangented. "That's why you asked to meet. And your handwriting...very shaky!" She pointed the pan in Rogue's direction who, in return, produced a blank stare.

The frantic waving of the frying pan returned along with another tangent from Nessa and before they knew it they were bickering like sisters do. Amongst the chaos Rogue managed to snatch the frying pan, tired of Nessa waving it too close to their face for their liking.

"GIVE IT BACK!" Nessa shrieked.

This continued for a few moments until Nessa suddenly screamed

"OLD CREEPY MAN!" as she pointed to someone not that far behind Rogue.

Rogue turned around and tried not to show her annoyance at the man. "Speaking of old, that is Gandalf. He's not creepy, he's a wizard."

A long pause comes as all three take long looks at each other.

"OLD CREEPY WIZARD?!?!" Nessa screamed again and in this moment of distraction, she grabbed the frying pan back and held it up as if she was going to do damage.

Rogue yelled out for her and swiftly snatched it again. "I'm half human. HALF. I'm not old."

"Then stop flailing like a child." Gandalf scolded as he walked closer to them, staff in hand.

"She started it!-" Rogue began as Gandalf stopped them again.

"Long-lost sister. Wizard. I think I'm going to faint." Nessa felt her forehead with her hand. The cold rain did nothing to cool her down.

"Let me help with that," Rogue declared as they took a purple glowing flower from their bag and the next thing Nessa saw was darkness.

_________________

Nessa stirred in her sleep, her nose twitched at the smell of

Pipe-weed. She had the weirdest dream. There was a wizard and her long-lost sister!?

She opened her eyes, expecting to be in her bed. Alone. Maybe with Pilvi by her side. And a book. But no. A figure with long blue hair, braided sporadically, leaned over her. Her dream was real. Though, no wizard in sight. Maybe that was the part her dream made up.

Before she could start to question anything and everything, Rogue placed a hand over her mouth and sent her a look, asking for trust. Nessa nodded and the hand was taken off her mouth.

Rogue slowly held out her hands for Nessa to hold. The single touch of their palms caused a glimmering shine to arise across their skin almost as if they were made of glitter. Their glowing veins painted the room in gold.

They studied their skin for what felt like years, unable to look away. "Fae markings," Nessa whispered, releasing a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Fae markings," Rogue repeated, pleased that her trick worked.

"You're my sister!"

"Of course I am. Now let's get down to business," They gently let go of Nessa's hands, and the glow dimmed until it was no more.

Rogue took a chair, spinning it around to sit on it backwards,

"Would you like to help a group of Dwarves take back their land?"

"Too right!" Nessa wholeheartedly agreed. She had nothing to lose. With the died-out fairyland and all, she also most certainly understood their wanting to take back land. These sisters finally reunited, the last of their kind would be helping the dwarves reclaim their home, as they wished others would have helped the Fae.

"You didn't make up that wizard, by the way."

"How did you know-"

_________________

A/N:

omg hi I have so much planned for this fic it's insane.

I started this with my bestie and we have made so much lore for the sisters and I literally cannot wait to show you all!

Btw We started a lotr fan fic before this one but we've not added onto it nearly as much as this one although they do have similarities (fairies & angst lol)

So idk when we'll pick that up again (probably after I finish writing this) but for now enjoy this fic <3

Anyway, we hope you enjoyed reading! look out for chapter 2👀

Also I made Nessa and Rogue in sims 4!!!

#the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #thorin fic #thorin and company #Thorin Oakenshield and company #Thorin x Fem!oc #Thorin fan fiction #the hobbit fan fiction #Bilbo Baggins #fili #Kili #Gandalf #tolkien #fan fiction #snapdragon & co. snazzynacho

[middleearthpixie]

Can you please write a fic where Thorin falls in love with a human girl, but he thinks she is disgusted by his looks? 🙏

Hi there, Nonny!! I know it took me forEVER, but here you go and i hope you like it! 💜

The Harp

Summary: You and Thorin are friends, but then you find out his feelings for you run deeper, and he’s holding back because he feels he is not good enough for you.  

Pairing: Thorin x fem!Reader (post-sack of Erebor, pre-quest for Erebor)

Warning: None. Just fluffy fluff

Rating: G

Word Count: 4.7k

***

He came into the dining room at the same time each evening and always sat at the same table—the one in the far corner, which was also the darkest corner of the room. He was polite, but kept to himself and you noticed how he always sat with his back to the wall and rarely did his eyes pause from scanning the room. 

The other diners eyed him with just as much suspicion but then again, they all eyed each other with suspicion as well. It was second nature to this lot, as they came from all four corners of Middle Earth. No one was actually from Emyn Vanya. No, every warm body had come from somewhere else to this tiny village on the outskirts of everywhere and yet somehow in the middle of nowhere. Some came to start over. Some came to forget. Some came to do both and some were just passing through. But everyone was from somewhere else and almost no one wished to discuss where that somewhere else might be.

You couldn't help but notice him, for he was a dwarf and the Grey Gander did not see many dwarves in their dining room. And not only that, but he was a handsome dwarf, to boot, with black hair, touched here and there with hints of silver, that spilled over his shoulders in a long tangle of curls. His most striking feature was his eyes, however, for they were the most piercing shade of icy blue you’d ever seen. There was a hardness within those pale eyes, one belied by his polite demeanor and deep, if soft, voice. 

Night after night, this man came in alone. He sat alone. He spoke to no one other than you when you approached to take his order, just as you did this evening. He was polite, if reserved, and spoke only when absolutely necessary, which was an interesting change from the patrons who grew louder and more opinionated as they dove further and further into their cups. 

“Welcome back,” you said with a smile as you approached him. “Might I fetch you a drink to begin?”

“Thank you. A tanked of ale would suit.”

“Of course. And do you know what you’d like or are you still trying to decide?”

He looked up at you with those striking eyes. “The hunter’s stew.”

His order never varied and you were certain you could just bring him a bowl of the stew without asking, which was why you couldn't resist a bit of playing with him. “I think we should start calling that your usual. Perhaps we should change it on the menu itself.”

That earned you one of the dwarf’s rare smiles. “I am not so certain that is necessary.”

“Well, you’ve been in here eight of the last ten nights and have yet to order anything different.” You couldn’t help teasing him. You sensed a hint of sadness in him, one that might explain the hardness in his eyes. And while it was a bit of a risk, teasing this man you didn’t really know, you had to admit, his smile made the risk worthwhile.

“But,” you added, taking your teasing further than you normally did, “you would have to tell me your name first. I certainly cannot ask to rename it Dwarf Stew. That would give the wrong impression, don’t you think?”

A darkness flashed through his eyes and you knew you’d overstepped. Your mind raced as you struggled to come up with something to smooth over his obviously ruffled feathers, knowing your employer would be furious if your flippancy drove away a paying customer. “I mean… that is… I apolo—”

“No,” he interrupted softly, shaking his head, “there is no need to apologize. And you’re right, it would sound odd. So, I suppose then, it would only be fair to tell you my name, wouldn’t it?”

Your heart beat a little faster at that. Perhaps it was but your imagination, but his voice sounded lower than it normally did. Lower and bit growlier. Had he, by any chance, noticed you the way you’d noticed him?

No, that was madness talking. Very few people noticed you aside from being their serving girl. You tended to blend into the background far too easily and since so many people in Emyn Vanya were only passing through, they paid little heed to you.

Still, that didn't stop you from replying, “It would, yes.”

To your surprise, that earned you a laugh. A genuine, honest-to-goodness laugh and one that sent flutters through you as it rolled across the small table in your direction. Like his voice, it was low and silken, and those flutters made you forget your own name for a moment.

“Very well,” he nodded, his eyes meeting and holding yours, “I am Thorin.”

You offered your name in return and added, “It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance, Thorin.”

“And yours as well.”

Heat climbed into your cheeks and you ducked your head, saying, “I will be back in a few moments with your ale,” you hesitated, then added, “Thorin.”

“I will be here.”

Thorin sat back as you darted off and couldn't believe his cheek. What had possessed him to even think to flirt with you? Your interest had to be only because he was a paying customer, because there was no way a woman as beautiful as you could possibly be interested in him. 

The first time he stepped into the Grey Gander, he’d noticed you at once, noticed how easily you smiled and joked with the tavern’s patrons. Your laughter was a silvery melody that made everyone turn in your direction and smile even if they had no idea what it was that made you laugh. 

He noticed everything about you—from that amazing smile and intoxicating laughter to your beautiful eyes and easy grace with which you moved about the crowded dining room. You never seemed impatience, or irritated, and even when someone gave you a hard time about something, you never lost your temper and somehow managed to defuse the most volatile of situations. 

The second night he’d come in, he’d witness such a scene, almost reaching for his sword, propped against the table, when the giant of man actually grabbed you by the arm. He had no doubt he’d have intervened if you needed it, but you didn’t. You smiled at the man as you peeled his fingers from your wrist and very sweetly informed him that if he touched you again, you’d turn him from a rooster to a hen in one fell swoop. 

It was at that moment, Thorin lost his heart.

A foolish notion at best, as you would never feel about him the way he did you. Why would you? He was a dwarf. He had no home. He had been in line for a throne, but now supported himself by moving from place to place, taking work where he could find it. 

That was what brought him to Emyn Vanya. His trade was blacksmithing and the village needed one. So, there he was, in the dining room of the Grey Gander, admiring you from afar and wishing he stood a chance at winning your hand. 

It was just as well, for what did he have to offer you? A king with no kingdom was no better than a pauper, really. Not to mention, he certainly couldn’t compete with the men of Emyn Vanya, who were all taller, slimmer, and far more attractive than he certainly was. You would be a fool to even consider him.

But, he watched you from afar, watched as you moved from table to table, how you brought a beaming smile to the face of an old crone, how you soothed angry children bickering over a toy, how you made a crying infant smile by making silly faces until they could do nothing else. 

How you focused on him as if he was the most interesting man in the room and not, for lack of a better phrase, a homely, homeless refugee. 

If only…

He sighed as you approached with a tankard in one hand. His heart beat so much faster when you met his gaze. His mouth went as dry as the plains between his lost kingdom of Erebor and the city of Dale after the dragon Smaug torched it from one end to the other.

You set the tankard before him. “Your supper will be ready in but a few minutes, Mr. Thorin.”

Mr. Thorin. He smiled, shaking his head. “No Mister. Thorin is just fine.”

“Oh, well that wouldn’t be proper now, would it?” Your eyes almost sparkled as your easy smile curved your lips. “After all, we only just met.”

“This is true,” he nodded, reaching for the tankard. Then, on impulse, he added, “Perhaps you might join me one evening?”

You looked taken aback and he immediately berated himself silently. You fool! What is wrong with you?

But then you smiled. “I think I would like that. I have an off night tomorrow. Would that work for you?”

He was stunned, not only by your agreement, but by your suggestion. No woman ever approached him that way. He’d always been the one to ask. You were bold and he admired that. So, he nodded. “That would work just fine for me.”

“Wonderful. What time?”

“Half seven?”

“Half seven it is,” you told him. “And I’ll be back in but a moment with your supper.”

****

What were you thinking? How could you just blurt out an invitation to him that way? He must think you a harlot, or a wanton woman for doing so. 

But at the same time, as you smoothed a hand along your skirts, you had to admit, you looked so forward to seeing him without having to wait upon him. It was a nice change of pace for you. A break in the monotony of your life that was work, sleep, and more work.

You’d told him where you lived, a rundown little flat above the florist’s shop, and at half eight, when the knock came at the door, you nearly jumped clear out of your skin. Then, laughing at your foolishness, you hurried to the door, before he thought you’d changed your mind and left. 

You smiled as you pulled open the door. “You are early.”

“I allowed myself extra time in case I found myself lost. I’m still new to these parts and this town takes a bit of getting used to.”

“If you remember the streets run east and west, and the avenues run north and south, you might fare better.”

He bobbed his head. “I would, but there are three florists on this street alone.”

“It is a very competitive business in Emyn Vanya.”

“So I’ve noticed.” 

You hesitated a moment and then stepped aside. “Come in.”

As he stepped over the threshold, you tried not to dwell on how shabby your flat was, with its scratched and scuffed hand-me-down furnishings. After you paid your rent and made certain there was food on the table, there was not much money left for luxuries such as nice furniture. Normally, it didn't trouble you. This was your home and you thought it cozy, if a bit rundown. But, when you tried to see it through Thorin’s eyes? 

You saw exactly how awful it must have looked to him. Threadbare sofa. The armchair had a hole in the cushion thanks to a broken spring, which meant that not only was stuffing peeping up from the hole, one received a nasty poke in the backside, should they think to sit there. 

And of course, there was that awful water stain in the far corner. You had no idea from where it had come, only that no matter how much you tried to paint over it, it bled through. You’d given up trying when paint fell into the luxury category.

But, he reached up for the frogs at his throat and then whisked his cloak off to drape over his arm. “This is lovely.”

Lovely? You looked about, wondering exactly what he found so lovely about it. “It’s a bit… ah… worn, don't you think?”

“Lived in, is how I would describe it.” He smiled at you. “Homes should be lived in. That is how they become such. Otherwise, they are but houses, flats, nothing more than buildings.”

You looked back at him. “Lived in?”

He nodded. “Lived in.” 

Then he looked back at you and for a moment, you were rendered speechless. Did he have any idea whatsoever as to how handsome he truly was? Because if he did, he certainly did not act as if he did.

Of course, you kept that to yourself, especially when that night, a deep friendship was born. You had dinner together on the nights when you weren’t working. You spent off days together, sometimes running errands with each other, sometimes just doing nothing. He had a knack for the acrostics printed in the village newspaper and the two of you spent your share of days or nights looking up which answers you thought would work. It didn't matter. He had quickly become your dearest friend and while you loved that, you’d also begun thinking that perhaps there was a bit more to your relationship than only friendship.

It was too bad he’d never given any indication at all that he saw you as anything more than a friend.

So you stayed quiet. Autumn gave way to winter and the Yule holiday was only a few days off when you made your way to Thorin’s forge at the northern end of town. A bitter cold wind whipped down the narrow alleyway where his shop was located and you didn't have to look to know you were near it. The carved wooden sign identifying the forge creaked on its hooks as it swung in the wind. Through the swirling snow, you could still make out the word etched into the wood. 

Blacksmith

Beneath that word, Thorin had carved symbols as well, and when you’d asked, he’d smiled and explained that they were a language called khuzdul, which was his native language, actually. He’d attempted to teach you some of it, and showed nothing but patience as you fumbled over seemingly simple words. Little by little, though, it became easier and left you wishing you had something like that to share with him. 

But then you found something. One night, over several goblets of wine, he confessed that he once played the harp, but had lost his when he’d lost his home, but that was all he would say about either the harp or what happened to his home. So, you’d saved a bit of your pay each week and put it aside and then went to the music shop at the far end of town and found what you’d hoped would be a suitable replacement harp. It wasn't a big, grand instrument, as those were far beyond what you could ever hope to afford, but you hoped he’d like it the same. You couldn’t remember the last time you were so excited and impatient to give someone a gift as you were this one, which was why you braved the worsening weather.  

So there you were, at the far end of a gray-shingled building with a roof in need of repair, listening to the almost melodic sound of metal striking metal. The closer you drew to his workshop, the warmer the air grew and as you rounded the corner, a blast of heat hit you square in the face. It was a welcome sensation as your cheeks felt quite numb from the cold. 

He had his back to you and heat shot through you at the sight of him, shirtless in deference to that blasted heat, the muscles in his back and along his shoulders bulging as he held a piece of iron in one hand, a hammer in the other. The clang rang through you when he brought the hammer slamming against the iron, again and again and you couldn't help but just stare. 

Your eyes roamed over his naked back, heavy with obviously well-earned muscle, and inked with black lines of varying sizes that covered his entire shoulder, stretched across his back, and into the opposite shoulder as well. You had no idea what the symbols and lines meant, but they looked very similar to the ones carved into the forge’s sign, so your guess was they were dwarfish runes or words.

The heat in the forge was brutal regardless of how cold it was beyond the walls. Sweat prickled along your back as you stepped closer. You didn't want to startle him. The iron with which he worked began with an orange glow, but slowly, as he pounded it flat, the glow faded and when he set down the hammer and used a pair of tongs to pick up the flattened piece and thrust it into a tub of water, steam actually rose from the tub.

“Thorin?”

He jumped, letting go of the tongs as he spun around and now heat shot up into your cheeks at the naked chest you found yourself staring at. Like his back, his chest was just as broad, with black hair swirled from one nipple to the other and down across his belly. More symbols had been inked across it, meeting with the design on his left shoulder.

“I am so sorry,” you stammered, tearing your eyes from that impressive sight to meet his startled blue eyes, “I was trying not to startle you.”

“What are you doing here?”

You hugged the package close. “I had to go and pick something up and thought while I was out, I’d stop by.” You peered around him, at the iron still resting in the water. “What are you making?”

“A sword.” He reached for the towel draped over the workbench and swept it across his forehead. “You should not be in here. It’s far too dangerous.”

“I will come no closer then. But tell me, who commissioned the sword?”

“No one. It is mine. I work on it when I’ve a bit of free time.”

“Might I see?”

“It’s not even close to being finished.” He came around the bench and stood before you. His black hair was damp at the temples. 

“You don't have to stop on my account, you know.” You took a step closer to him, the urge to reach out and touch him so powerful, it nearly overwhelmed you. You wish you had the courage to tell him how you’d come to feel about him, as you’d had when you’d left your flat. You’d left there full of fire and determined to confess your feelings for him, but unfortunately, by the time you reached his forge, that courage evaporated like the water in the tub had. 

“It would be rude of me to continue.”

“Not at all. I think it would be fascinating, watching you work.” 

His gaze shifted slightly to his left and you followed it to see what he looked at—a heavy dark gray henley lay draped over a chair by his desk. Without thinking, you shifted the package to one arm and reached out to catch him by the upper arm as he stretched for his shirt.

“Wait, don’t,” you said, shaking your head.

“Don’t?”

You nodded. “I—what is this?” You traced your fingertips along the thick black lines curving his shoulder, unable to believe your own brazenness but unable to halt your touch as well. 

“It’s my… my… it’s a raven,” he managed, his voice deep and huskier than usual. He cleared his throat. “The symbol of my clan, and my family crest.”

You could not keep yourself from tracing along those lines as little by little, the image of a raven wearing a crown slowly showed itself to you. You’d held back from telling him how you felt for so long, now that the opportunity to perhaps go beyond friendship had presented itself and you were not about to let it slip by. But… you had to be careful. It was a delicate matter and that called for delicate handling. The last thing you wished to do was destroy your friendship with him.

With that, you lowered your hand “It’s lovely.”

“Thank you.”

“This is for you, by the by.” You pressed the package toward him. “I know Yule isn’t for several more days, but when I went to pick this up, I grew far too impatient to wait.”

He stared down at it. “What is it?”

“Well, you have to open it to find out.”

He took the package and slowly unwrapped it and then just stared, his blue eyes growing shiny as he murmured, “How did you know?”

“You told me, silly.” You nudged him with your shoulder. “Remember? We were talking about how my neighbor plays the harpsichord and how awful it sounds and you told me you once played the harp. So, I asked Mr. Trumble if he could find me a harp for you and he did me one better. He made this.”

“He—” those blue eyes met yours, wide and incredulous—“made this?”

You nodded. “He did, indeed.”

He gazed down at the harp, and then back at you. “I—this—this is beautiful. I thank you.”

“There is one condition to it, however.” You nudged him once more. “You must play it for me.”

“Oh, I couldn't now. I’d be far too rusty.”

“Well, once you flake off all the rust.”

“Fair enough.” He offered up a smile brighter than any you’d ever seen from him. “You shouldn’t have done this, though. Save your wages, don’t spend them on me.”

“I didn't mind.” You shrugged as if you spent that kind of money all the time. “And it’s Yule, so it was but a small sacrifice.”

He stepped closer. “This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me, you know. I will treasure it. And you.”

And with that, he leaned in and to your surprise, pressed his lips to yours. You froze at first, caught by utter surprise, as this was the last thing you’d expected him to do. For one maddening moment, you wondered if perhaps you were just imagining it.

But then, his lips moved softly against yours and your toes actually curled in your sensible boots when he brought his hands up to cup your face, and you knew that this was, in fact, actually happening. And how wonderful it was! The sensations that rippled through you were soft and sweet, the crisp, coarse hair around his mouth tickling at first, but then you found you didn't mind it so much as it was a caress of its own. 

Your head did a slow spin, his kiss leaving you lightheaded and when your hands came to rest on those massive upper arms of his, your fingers pressed into muscle that greatly resembled stone of their own accord. You were afraid your weak knees might buckle on you at any moment.

His kiss was slow and sweet, teasing and gentle and when his lips parted and his tongue swept gently along yours, your head spun even faster. A rush of heat swept through you. Your lips tingled. Your heart beat harder and faster and it took every bit of will you had to not melt right into his arms. 

When he drew back, his eyes were soft, swirling with an emotion you couldn’t quite place and he seemed as breathless as you were as he murmured, “I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time now.”

“What?”

He nodded. “I do and I did and now I just want to do it again.” Then he paused, a hint of sheepishness creeping into his smile, into his eyes, “Unless, of course, you’d rather I didn’t.”

“No, I’d not rather that at all,” you told him, smiling as you curved a hand against his cheek. “In fact, I’d like it very much if you would do it again. And again. And I think you should keep doing, no matter where we might be.”

A low chuckle rumbled up from the depths of his chest. “So, I am not about to send you screaming into the snow?”

“Hardly.” 

“Are you certain? I mean,” he rubbed his bearded jaw ruefully, a sheepish smile coming to his lips, “I know people whisper about me and poke fun at me behind my back.”

“They whisper about you because they are fascinated by you. And no one pokes fun at you. I know they think you’re quite an excellent smithy, judging by what I’ve heard. And I won’t even tell you what the women say about you.”

To your surprise, his sheepish smile faded and a darkness came to his eyes. “I can only imagine.”

“Have I said something wrong? I thought I was complimenting you. Do dwarves not like to hear how handsome they are thought to be?”

“Handsome?” He snorted as he shook his head. “That’s kind of you, but I’ve seen my own face and that is not how I’d describe it.”

“Well, perhaps you should but have Mr. Sinclair examine your eyes, for you are not only handsome, but very handsome.”

He stared at you, clearly not believing a word you said. “Thank you, but you are just being kind, as you’ve been since we met.”

“Thorin,” you caught his hands in yours, “I’ve been wishing you’d notice me as more than simply your friend, that you’d kiss me, and perhaps I’ve been too brazen in taking the first step. If you wish me to leave you alone, I will.”

“Leave me alone?” His eyes went wide and he shook his head once more. “No, no, I don’t wish that at all. In fact, I—”

A scarlet flush swept up into his cheeks and he went quiet. You waited for him to continue, your heart hammering away at your ribs. All you wanted was for him to pull you into his arms, to tug you flush against that massive chest, and kiss you until you forgot your name.

“You what?” you asked softly.

“I lied. About the sword.” He smiled then. “It’s for you, actually. For Yule. I meant it to be a surprise.”

“For me? But I don't even know who to wield one.”

“Worry not, for I will teach you. When the weather breaks.”

“You did this for me? You would do that for me?”

He nodded. “I would do anything for you, you know.” His eyes softened then as he smiled. “I love you.”

This was the last thing you ever expected him to say and you could only stare at him for a long moment, as your stupid brain forgot how to process words. The best you could muster was a whispered, “What?”

“I love you. I’ve been wanting to tell you for some time now, but how could I when I thought you would be embarrassed to be courted by me. So, I relegated myself to knowing we would only ever be friends, but now…”

“Embarrassed to be courted by you? Are you mad, Thorin? Are you absolutely and completely mad? Because you would have to be to think any woman alive would be embarrassed to be courted by you.” You shifted to wind your arms about his neck. “And no one has ever made something for me. At least, not something as beautiful as a sword. So, if I didn't already love you in return, I would have most definitely fallen at this moment.”

He smiled. “So, all this time, it would’ve only taken a sword to win your hand?”

“I’m a very simple woman, Thorin. You should know that by now.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he eased his arms about your waist, pulling you flush against him. He leaned closer, his lips just brushing yours as he murmured, “I’ll keep it in mind.”

You tried to think of something witty to reply with, but then his lips met yours once more and rendered words unnecessary.

***

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[enchantzz]

I tried something new. Writing a Middle Earth story about young Fili and Kili and Uncle Thorin. I was inspired by this amazing piece of art by @sugarsu Here is the link to the original post. If you like the artwork, please consider reblogging the original post as well.

In the woods of Ered Luin

Summary: Uncle Thorin is taking care of young Fili and Kili and they visit the woods in the area of Ered Luin, The Blue Mountains. Just a lot of fluff and a somewhat anxious Thorin at times, but we all know the boys, so we can't really blame him 😉

divider created by me

It was still early, but Fili and Kili had already been running around since their eyes had opened to a beautiful day in Ered Luin. Dis and Thorin were sitting at the kitchen table, quietly drinking their coffee and listening to the chatter and laughter of the boys. Thorin usually didn’t have a lot of time, so he valued these family moments very much.

Thorin had offered to spend the day with his little nephews. His dear sister Dis had gratefully accepted the offer and looked forward to having some time to herself. But as soon as Thorin had offered to take the boys, next to excitement a little pang of fear hit him. What mayhem would he encounter this fine day? Nothing ever did not happen, something always did.

Thorin mustered up his courage and got up to fetch the boys. When he saw a heap of pebbles, blankets, pillows and a cat on top of it, he wondered what had happened in the few minutes he had taken his eyes off of them. Shaking his head, he said, 'Come on boys, get your coats, put on your boots.’

The heap of blankets, pillows, pebbles and cat immediately came apart and two pairs of eyes looked at him questioningly. 'Where are we going uncle Thorin?' they asked. 

“You’ll see. Now come on, get ready,’ he told them.

Not long after, they entered the forest near the Blue Mountains. It was a beautiful day so far, but the big furry clouds in the distance promised some well deserved rain for the plants and wildlife in the forest. The leaves were softly rustling in the breeze, birds were chirping and singing, insects buzzing. The forest was so full of life, yet so peaceful. 

Kili was jumping and running around. There was so much to see. Flowers, plants, little rocks, insects. Thorin smiled. That boy never seemed to run out of energy. Fili was usually much more reserved and quiet. He was walking alongside Thorin, observing the woods, asking him all kinds of questions and Thorin was answering them patiently.

‘What animals will we see today uncle Thorin?’ Fili asked. ‘Will there be moose? And wolves? What about bunnies? Oh look, uncle Thorin, what kind of bird is that?’ his little fingers pointing at a bird with a bright red chest, singing its morning song on one the branches of a big oak tree.

Thorin cringed at the idea of encountering a wolf and the pebbles being in danger, but he didn’t have a lot of time to think about it, for Kili came running up to him. 

‘Look uncle Thorin, look what I have!’ he exclaimed enthusiastically. He was holding something in his tiny hands, careful not to drop it. Thorin crouched down. ‘What have you got there little man?’ 

Kili opened his little hands and a black spider crawled out. ‘You can have it uncle Thorin,’ he said proudly and with a big grin on his face. ‘I fetched it for you.’

Oh dear, how to get himself out of that situation.

‘I think the spider is …,’ he started

‘Ciaran’,  Kili said.

‘What?’ Thorin looked at Kili, confused.

‘It’s name is Ciaran,’ Kili explained.

Thorin raised his eyebrows at that and scratched his beard. Wow, he had only just found the spider and it already had a name as if it were part of the family and needed to be taken up in the Durin family tree.

The new addition to the line of Durin was quickly forgotten though, when a rustle of leaves alerted Thorin and he looked in the direction of the sound. The word ‘wolves’ still fresh in his mind, he grabbed Kili and told him to be quiet. He checked on Fili, who was crouching down beside Thorin, imitating his uncle and all three of them looked in the direction of the moving bushes nearby.

A little spooked by Fili’s question about wolves, Thorin wished that he had brought his sword. He held his breath, but he sighed with relief when a deer and a fawn appeared and not a big bad wolf. 

‘Oh look uncle Thorin,’ Kili pointed at the fawn, ‘A baby deer! Can we go pet it?’ he asked excitedly.

‘No, Kili,’ Thorin said, ‘They are erm … having breakfast. It’s best to leave them be.’ 

Kili sighed disappointedly and Thorin chuckled.

‘Come on boys, let’s go about our way. There is a stream not far from here.’ 

That also got Fili excited and both pebbles ran ahead, their chatter and laughter echoing between the trees. It warmed Thorin 's heart to see them so excited and happy. With a smile on his face, he followed his nephews in the direction of the stream. 

The clouds, which had seemed so far away at the start of their walk, now gathered above them, hiding the sun and making the forest a little darker. Drops of rain started to fall and the calming sound of the raindrops falling on the foliage and the fresh smell of wet earth had a calming effect on Thorin. All anxiety about wolves forgotten. 

He loved the woods, the sounds, the smells. He filled his lungs with a deep breath of fresh air and for a moment closed his eyes and held his face up to the sky, the fresh rain drops gently falling on his face, his beard and his long, dark hair, which was held back with a beautiful handcrafted clip in the form of a raven. 

He stood there, enjoying the moment, but then, at once, snapped back to reality. It had gone quiet. Even though shouting and noise usually didn’t mean anything good when the boys were concerned, neither did absolute silence. He quickened his pace and almost tripped over a boot and another one and another. He followed the trail of boots, picking them up. Apparently, the boys had decided that they no longer needed those. 

He approached the stream and saw Fili crouched down, his blue cape over his head and his chin resting in the palm of his hand.  Kili was perched on his hands and knees on a flat stone in the stream.  They were studying a black bird which was hopping from stone to stone in the stream. The bird paused, sat on a stone and curiously turned its head from side to side, seemingly as curious as the boys. It was altogether a peaceful sight, the dripping sound of the raindrops making little circles in the water, the gently flowing stream, and the boys watching the bird, watching the boys.

Thorin crouched down next to Fili and put his big hand on Fili’s tiny shoulder. So that’s why the little rascals had gone quiet, he thought and smiled.

‘Can we keep him uncle?' Kili asked, breaking the silence. ‘Can we take him home so that we can show him to amad?’

‘No my dear boy, your mother wouldn’t be very happy if you took a bird home. It lives here, in the forest, you know. This is its home.  Everyone and everything has its own place in this world and the woods is where the bird belongs. It would be sad if it had to leave his home. You don’t want it to be sad, do you?’

Thorin heard himself say the words and for a moment sadness hit him. His thoughts went to Erebor, his home, where he belonged and which he had been forced to leave and for which he longed with all his heart. One day, he would return to the Lonely Mountain. He was sure of it.

He didn’t have long to think about it, because a frog hopped out of the water, onto the stone chasing off the bird. 

Kili giggled and reached for the frog. ‘Can we take …’ he started.

‘No, Kili, we can’t take the frog home either,’ Thorin said sternly, but he had a hard time keeping a straight face. Kili seemed to want to take home every animal and insect he encountered. Thorin was sure that Dis wouldn’t appreciate a zoo in her home. 

After a moment, Thorin got up and said, ‘Come on boys, put your boots back on. Let’s go see if amad has something nice to fill your bellies ok? You must be hungry after all these adventures.’ 

With that, the frog was all about forgotten, the boys hurried to put their boots on and off they went with Thorin in tow. Thorin was quietly enjoying the walk back home, while Kili and Fili chased after butterflies, found treasures - read 'stones' - along the way, chased each other and left Thorin wondering if he, Frerin and Dis had ever had the same amount of energy as these two boys. 

The rain had stopped, the sun had broken through the clouds, its rays illuminating the way home and he couldn’t have been more relaxed.

By the time they got home, Thorin was quite proud of himself that so far, the day had passed without any incidents and mayhem under his supervision. He was grateful for the family time, but also, deep down, grateful to be handing them back over to their mother, his dear sister, whom he admired more and more, every time he looked after the boys.  But also deep down, he longed for another day with his nephews, whom he loved as if they were his own sons.

If you liked the story, please know that I appreciate reblogs and comments very much 💜

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@linasofia @lathalea @laurfilijames @guardianofrivendell @legolasbadass @middleearthpixie @xxbyimm @i-did-not-mean-to @the-poldarkian @shiinata-library @annkdarar @frosticenow @blairsanne @sweetestgbye @kibleedibleedoo @turnitdownsometimes @deanwanddamons @aduialel @lordoftherazzles

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[fantasyinallforms]

Oh my stars, please look at this amazing piece I commissioned from the always and ever amazing @tava-art for my Modern AU fic What You Do To Me, which is part of my Happy Accidents Universe!

I can't get enough of it! It's perfect in every way!

#bagginshield #the hobbit #thilbo #bilbo baggins #bilbo x thorin #tavas art means everything to me #amazing art #fan fiction

[lathalea]

Thorin Oakenshield Masterlist

Here is the masterlist of my Thorin Oakenshield stories. Enjoy!

📜 ONE-SHOTS:

✨ The Lotus Flower and the Summer Wind (Thorin x Reader, rated T) ✨ Forest Gold (Thorin x Reader, rated T) ✨ The Winner Takes It All (Thorin x Reader, rated E) ✨ Boop! (Thorin x Reader, rated: G) ✨ Imbolc (Thorin x OC, rated: T, gothic fairy tale) ✨ Blacksmith Needed (Thorin x OC, rated: M) ✨ Far Under the Misty Waters Cold (Thorin x Reader, rated: T) ✨ To Home Afar (Thorin & Dis, my TRSB21 entry, rated: G) ✨ Strong (Thorin x Reader, hurt/comfort fic) ✨ A Good Night's Kiss (Thorin x Reader, rated: M) ✨ The Gift (Thorin x Reader, rated: G) ✨ Mistletoe (Thorin x Reader, rated: G) ✨ How Do You Shop for a King? (Thorin x OC, rated: G) ✨ Thistle. A Midsummer Night's Dream (who is the woman in prince Thorin's dream?, rated G) ✨ The Tinderbox (Thorin x OFC, rated: G) ✨ The Crossover (Thorin x Reader, rated: G) ✨ The Best Day of My Life (Thorin x OC, rated: G) ✨ Never (Thorin angst, rated: G) ✨ Dream Come True (Thorin x Reader, rated: G) ✨ A Kind of Magic (Thorin x gn!Reader, rated: G) ✨ A Pint Too Far (Thorin x OC, rated: G) ✨ Wild Strawberries (Thorin x OC, rated: E) ✨ The Arrival (Thorin x OC/Reader, rated: G) ✨ The Shrieking Monster (Thorin&Dis&Fili&Kili family fluff, rated: G)

📜 LONGFICS:

✨ The Weeping Willow (Thorin x Reader, angst, dark fairy tale, rated T, complete): [1] [2]

✨ All Is Fair in Love and Trade (Thorin x Reader, rated E): [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [Chapter 1 scene from Thorin's POV]

✨ Entangled (Thorin x OC, rated: G): [1] [2] [3] ✨ Heart of Stone (Thorin x Reader, The Hobbit Pirate AU, an interactive story, rated M):  [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] (on hiatus) ✨ Third Time's the Charm (Thorin x Reader, rated T, complete): [1] [2] [3] ✨ Sun and Stone (Thorin x Reader, rated G, complete) [1] [2] ✨ Springtime at the Lonely Mountain (pre-Smaug AU, read the whole fic on AO3, rated E) ✨ How to Kiss a Fairy (collab with @avaria-revallier , Quest of Erebor with a twist, rated G, complete): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 ✨ Blame It on Cider (Thorin x fem!Dwarf OC Yrsa, rated E): [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] ... 💎 Soulmates (Modern AU take on Thorin and Yrsa's relationship)

✨ If on a Winter's Night (Thorin x Reader, Modern AU): [1] [2] [] [] ✨ The White Raven (Thorin x OC, rated: T/E): [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] []

➡️Other Masterlists

Lathalea's Main Masterlist

Writer's Month 2021 Masterlist

Tarot Imagine Ask Game 2021 Masterlist

The Hobbit Advent Calendar 2021 Masterlist

Armitage Summer Splash 2022 Masterlist

You can read all of my works on AO3 (Lathalea).

If you'd like to be tagged in my fics, let me know! Do you like my writing? Would you like to read more? Feel free to show your support by having a Ko-fi with me! Thank you 💙

#thorin oakenshield #fanfiction #lathalea #the hobbit #thorin x reader #richard armitage #thorin #tolkien #lotr #thorin fic #king under the mountain #fanfic #thorin x oc #thorin imagine #fantasy #fan fiction #the hobbit imagine

[aackxrmxn]

〘 Thorin Oakenshield 〙

It’s Over!

A/N: Haven’t been on this account for a while! I think it’s time I get back into writing, and what better way than to start off writing with Thorin Oakenshield! Thank you so much for 700 followers!

Warnings: Angst, Thorin through his dragon sickness.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ♛ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

“Am I not the King?” Thorin yelled, his voice echoing through the newly reclaimed Erebor. A lump formed in my throat as I looked down at the pavement; smooth and cold under my feet.

I had just woken up and I’m already being yelled at. I had had enough of this! My hands balled into fists as I fought back the tears threatening to spill. Balin stepped forwards then, and I had almost forgotten he was beside me to begin with. He placed a comforting hand in my shoulder and I look at him with teary eyes and smile weakly.

All this began with me asking him if he could come to bed tonight, seeming he hadn’t come to bed at all the past few nights. His chambers were luxurious but it was cold and too big for one person. Being a human, we always preferred to be outside rather than being cooped up in a mountain. I didn’t mind though, as long as I was welcome to stay at Erebor, that’s where I would stay.

A sigh fell from my lips as I gave up trying to fight with Thorin, he wasn’t budging and something about being surrounded by all this gold was making him sick in the head.

“It doesn’t matter, if he doesn’t want to spend time with me I might as well go back home.” I spoke to Balin, wanting Thorin to hear and be scared by the fact I was thinking about going home. I really didn’t want to go home, but if that’s what it took for Thorin to come to his senses than so be it.

What Thorin said next made my heart sink into my stomach. “Go then, go back home because I don’t ever want to see you again! Our courtship is over!”

“Thorin!” Balin exclaimed loudly, his hand slipping from my shoulder as he took the steps up to Thorin sitting on his throne. “Don’t say that about Y/N, she’s been nothing but supportive and helpful to us, to you! She helped us reclaim Erebor and without her we wouldn’t have been able to do such a thing.”

My gaze met Thorin’s, his once loving blue eyes had turned dark and unrecognisable. I wanted to believe the old him was in there somewhere but I couldn’t find it.

I tried my best not to cry, I really did, but a single tear fell down my cheek as I managed to keep my eyes on him. “Fine,” My voice shaky as the realisation came down on me - Thorin didn’t want to court me any longer. “I’m going back home then, and trust me Thorin, you won’t ever see me again.”

I spun on my heels, Balin calling out to me but I simply kept walking. My feet made a quick left where I almost smacked into someone, a gasp falling from my lips. I look up and see the whole Company standing there, Dwalin standing first.

They all had this look on their face, they were upset… upset that their once future queen was now leaving them. Tears filled my eyes again, this time I had no strength to hold them back and Bofur realised this and bought me into a hug, rubbing my back gently.

“I’m sorry, I-I can’t do this anymore… not with who he has become… I can’t.” I whispered the last part as all my strength and energy had simply vanished. “I really hope you guys have the best time here, I really do. I really want you guys to be at peace, but my peace isn’t here… not anymore.”

“To hell with him,” Dwalin spoke then. “You can be at peace without him, he clearly doesn’t want ya but that don’t mean you can’t stay here.” He had this fury in his eyes, more so than ever before.

I was stuck, I wanted to be here, I did, but I knew deep down it would kill me to live with Thorin and not be with him.

“I-I… I can’t, I’m sorry…” It hurt me.

Dwalin took a moment before he nodded his head. “I understand ya. We just… we’ve just grown to love ya like our queen.” He head hung, clearly sad but not wanting to show it.

I didn’t hesitate to hug him, he seemed stiff but he soon relaxed into the hug. “I’ll miss you and your grumpiness.” I laughed, trying to make everyone a bit happier. “I truly thought you wanted to kill me when we first met, but I now know you really want to kill everyone, not just me.”

He laughed at that, as did some others, but some did not. Fili and Kili both had a somber look to them. “We’ll miss you Auntie,” Kili said, bringing me into a hug.

I wanted to tell him I wasn’t his ‘Auntie’ any longer, but I didn’t want to make him feel bad so I smile at him and kissed his forehead. That’s when I heard a shout from Thorin who was still talking with Balin.

“Right,” I said then, trying my best not to feel sad anymore. “My bag is in Thorin’s room, I’m going to grab that and go while he is here.” I didn’t want to see him right now. I mean, I wanted to, but not like the way he is now.

I looked at the Company once more, tears coming to my eyes again, but I turned so none of them could see me and began to walk.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Someone snarled, grabbing my arm and yanking me to their body harshly. I winced, and out of instinct, I pushed them away. Hair fell in my face as I stumbled back into Bofur.

Thorin glared down at me, going to grab me again but I moved away. “No Thorin, you wanted me gone and that’s what I’m doing… going! You and your stupid gold filled mountain is yours and when you finally come to your senses, I hope you are filled with so much regret and guilt possible! You are changed Thorin!” I laughed then, tears streamed down my face. “You know I’m glad you said you didn’t want to court me anymore because I don’t love you! Not anymore!”

It was a lie, I loved him and I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving him.

“You can have your stupid coat back, you can have your stupid bead back too!” I grabbed the bead securing the courting braid in my hair and threw it at Thorin. It bounced off his chest and to the floor where it rolled and stopped somewhere off the side. “Goodbye Thorin.” I grumbled and turned on my feet and ran off towards his chambers.

The heavy and luxurious dress Thorin insisted I wore the night before fluttered behind me as I ran. I felt like I was suffocating in it, I wanted to tear it off.

When I got to his chambers I quickly packed my things, not wanting to see him again, making sure to leave the fur coat he had given me to keep warm on his bed.

The silence was deafening as I packed, tears sliding down my cheeks. I don’t know how I would get back home, perhaps I would ask the people of Laketown to let me use a boat in exchange for some gold. With all the gold in this mountain, I would take some for myself; it’s what I deserved after all.

Loud boots filled the atmosphere then and they gradually got louder. My eyes widened as I realised the familiar sound of Thorin nearing. I panicked and grabbed my belongings and hid behind the cabinet to not be seen, wondering what he would do when he was alone with me… I didn’t want to know the hurt I would go through.

“Y/N!” I held my breath as Thorin entered the room and I could see him staring at something… the coat on the bed. “Where are you?” He sounded distant, like he was talking to himself.

He sat on the bed, grabbing the coat and bringing it to his face, like he was smelling it. My eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

As he bought the coat down and I saw tears in his eyes. “Fuck, what have I done?” I wanted to come out, but I decided to stay hidden for a little while to see what he would do. The coat was thrown to the floor, and his hand covered his face and a broken sob came from his throat.

My feet moved beneath me against my will and they moved over to where Thorin was sitting at the edge of the bed. Tears filled my eyes as my hand reached up to move a piece of hair away from his face. He jumped, grabbing my arm and looking up at me.

“Y-Y/N?” He asked, his blue eyes red and puffy. “I-I’m so sorry.” He voice broke as he nuzzled the side of his face into my warm palm.

He sobbed then and kissed the inside of my wrist while his other arm snaked around my waist and bought me close to his body. “Thorin…” I started.

“Forgive me, please forgive me.” He cried, “I didn’t mean… anything. I didn’t-“

“Thorin.”

“Please, I’m sorry.”

“Thorin shut up for a minute.” He stopped, looking at me with teary eyes and his bottom lip quivered slightly. “You have been the biggest asshole to me, and for what? Gold? The throne? The stupid Arkenstone?”

“I’m-“

“No, you’re not getting forgiven Thorin. You didn’t realise the damage you’ve done to me, to our relationship.” I could feel his fingers playing at the string holding my dress together. “Thorin, you hurt me.” I mumbled as I wiped away fresh tears.

“Amrâlimê, I will do anything to make it up to you.” He whispered, both his hands running up and down my sides. I didn’t trust me voice and just nodded as he bought me closer and wrapped his arms around me.

I nuzzled into his neck and sighed, relaxing against his warm skin. I pulled away then, grabbing the sides of his face, noticing the crown still on his head. I frowned and grabbed it, taking it off his head and throwing it across the room. I smile warmly as I saw the same loving glint of Thorin’s eyes looking at me, grabbing the sides of his face again and leaning in for a kiss.

He smiled into the kiss, his hands placed firmly on my hips. “Don’t do this again, it’s your last warning.” I spoke against his lips.

“I won’t amrâlimê, I promise.” He said, not opening his eyes still, forehead against mine. “I will make you Queen under the mountain and treat you with such grace.”

You shifted in his embrace, “so…?”

“So what?”

“You don��t regret courting me?” I whispered.

Thorin pulled away from me slightly, “not ever.”

#thorin oakenshield headcanons #thorin oakenshield #lotr #the hobbit #bilbo baggins #thorin #thorin fanfiction #thorin x y/n #lotr imagines #the hobbit imagines #sad #fan fiction #bilbo baggins imagines #bilbo x reader #thilbo

[delicatenightfury]

Star of the Mountain Chapter 24

Warnings: fluff, angst, canon-level violence, spoilers for the Hobbit films

Pairing: OC x Thorin Oakenshield

Beta'd By: @mistys-blerbz

Author's Note: please do not steal my work! I do not own the Hobbit or the characters, but I do own my OCs and the parts of the plot that are not part of the movies. I have worked very hard on this fic. Please be respectful and do not steal.

Please comment, reblog, and like!

Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Pleasantries with Gandalf were short-lived. The wizard seemed very anxious and dove right into what he wished to say.

“You must set aside your petty grievances with the dwarves,” he said. “War is coming. The sepsis of Dolguldor have been emptied.” Thranduil cast a lazy look over at Bard, indicating that he was not truly taking the Grey Wizard seriously. “You’re all in mortal danger!”

“What are you talking about?” Bard asked.

“I can see you know nothing of wizards,” Thranduil replied before Gandalf could. The elven king stood to pour a glass of wine. “They are like winter thunder on a wild wind rolling in from the distance, breaking hard in alarm.” He handed Bard a glass. “But sometimes a storm is just a storm.”

“Not this time,” Gandalf said. “Armies of orcs are on the move. These are fighters that have been bred for war. Our enemy has summoned his full strength.”

“Gandalf,” Oreliell said, stepping forward slightly. “Are you sure of this?”

The wizard nodded gravely.

“I have seen them with my own eyes.”

“Why show his hand now?” Thranduil questioned.

“Because we forced him! We forced him when the company of Thorin Oakenshield set out to reclaim their homeland. The dwarves were never meant to reach Erebor.” He led the elves and human out of the tent to look at the mountain. “Azog the Defiler was sent to kill them. His master seeks control of the mountain. Not just for the treasure within but for where it lies, its strategic position. This is the gateway to reclaiming the lands of Angmar in the north. If that fell kingdom should rise again… Rivendell, Lórien, the Shire… even Gondor itself will fall.”

“These orcs armies you speak of, Mirthrandir, where are they?” Thranduil asked.

Gandalf sighed heavily, unable to give an answer. Thranduil rolled his eyes and returned to his tent. Oreliell and Vedis looked at Gandalf.

“Are you all right, Gandalf?” Oreliell asked quietly. He looked rather beaten up. “Perhaps you can have Vedis take a look at your wounds-”

“I am fine,” he said. “Truly. Besides, we have much larger things to worry about than a few cuts and bruises, don’t you think?” He paused and looked between them. “How is the company?”

Oreliell sighed.

“They are all alive. But the dragon sickness has taken root in Thorin’s mind.”

Gandalf nodded gravely.

“Then we must think of a way to get through to him.”

“Gandalf, I’ve tried. He is my One and even I struggled to speak with him.”

“I understand. Nevertheless, we mustn’t give up.”

Oreliell smiled a little.

“You’re crazier than I thought to believe I would give up.”

Gandalf smiled back at her before returning to the tent. Vedis placed a comforting hand on Oreliell’s arm.

“All will be well, muinthel.”

Oreliell nodded and followed her sister to the tent. Gandalf was back to trying to convince Thranduil.

“Since when has my council counted for so little?” he asked. “What do you think I’m trying to do?”

“I think you’re trying to save your dwarvish friends. And I admire your loyalty to them. But it does not dissuade me from my course.” Thranduil rose from his chair. “You started this, Mirthrandir. You will forgive me if I finish it.” Oreliell exchanged glances with her sister as Thranduil approached one of his guards. “Are the archers in position?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Give the order. If anything moves on that mountain, kill it. The dwarves are out of time.”

Gandalf stormed out of the tent, clearly angered. Oreliell looked at the elven king, who still stared out at the mountain.

“You said that you would attack at dawn,” Oreliell said. “Would you be so heartless as to shoot while they are not expecting it?”

“They have been given their warning,” Thranduil said.

“And what about the warning Gandalf has given you? We have traveled many months with him. If what he says about the orcs is true, then I think we must at least consider his words.”

“Oreliell.” She glanced over her shoulder at her sister, only to realize that Vedis was no longer standing there. “You’ll never believe who just showed up.”

A moment later, Vedis entered the tent with Bard, Gandalf, and Bilbo in tow.

“Bilbo,” Oreliell said with a smile.

“I’m glad to see you’re all right, Oreliell,” Bilbo said.

“Who is this?” Thranduil said.

“Bilbo Baggins, the official burglar of the company of Thorin Oakenshield.”

“If I’m not mistaken, this is the halfling who stole the keys to my dungeons from under the nose of my guards.”

Thranduil sat down in his chair, eyes narrowing slightly at Bilbo. The hobbit shuffled in place.

“Yes,” he said under his breath. “Sorry about that.” Oreliell glanced at Vedis, who was also smiling. They watched as the hobbit stepped forward, pulling something out of his pocket. “I came to give you this.”

He placed the item on the table and pulled away the cloth. Everyone stared in shock and awe.

“Oh my gosh,” Vedis murmured.

“The Heart of the Mountain,” Thranduil breathed, standing slowly. “The King’s Jewel.”

“And worth a king’s ransom,” Bard said. He looked down at Bilbo. “How is this yours to give?”

“I took it as my fourteenth share of the treasure.”

Oreliell almost laughed in disbelief. She was stunned by his courage. But she couldn’t help but worry about what Thorin might do if he found out.

“Why would you do this?” Bard asked. “You owe us no loyalty.”

“I’m not doing it for you,” Bilbo told them. “I know that dwarves can be obstinate and pigheaded and difficult. They’re suspicious and secretive, with the worst manners you could possibly imagine. But they are also brave and kind and loyal to a fault. I’ve grown very fond of them, and I would save them if I can. Now, Thorin values this stone above all else.” Oreliell noticed that he glanced her way. “In exchange for its return, I believe he will give you what you are owed. There will be no need for war.”

Oreliell glanced at the two leaders. Bard turned to Thranduil, still in shock at the hobbit’s actions. Thranduil looked at him for a moment before looking back at Bilbo.

“We will take this into careful consideration,” Thranduil said. “Someone will show you a place to rest for the night.”

Bilbo nodded. Gandalf ushered him toward the entrance, but the halfling suddenly stopped.

“I nearly forgot!” he said. He turned around and pulled a sheath far too large for his body. He handed them to Oreliell. “You left your swords back at the mountain. I figured you’d want them back.”

Oreliell looked down at the swords then at Bilbo. She was surprised that he had noticed and that he had brought them with him to give to her. She put her hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Bilbo. You did not have to do that, but I greatly appreciate it.”

Bilbo smiled at her then stepped out of the tent with Gandalf. Oreliell looked back at her blades. She had not really realized that she had left them in the mountain; her haste to leave made it slip her mind. But Bilbo had brought back both her swords and her pair of daggers.

“He is a brave hobbit,” Vedis commented.

“Yes. Much different from when we first met him. I just hope he stays safe tomorrow if war breaks out.”

Vedis put her hand on Oreliell’s shoulder. The two exchanged small smiles.

“The halfling is quite impressive,” Thranduil said, regaining their attention. 

“Indeed he is. You also need better guards,” Oreliell replied, barely casting him a glance.

She heard Bard half choke on a laugh, but he tried to cover it with a cough. Oreliell smiled to herself. She didn’t need to look at Thranduil to know his eyes had narrowed. 

“I noticed that both of you are without armor. If you are interested, I can provide both of you with sets for tomorrow.”

Oreliell wanted to roll her eyes. She wanted to ask why on earth he thought they would need armor if they were going to confront Thorin. But she knew better.

An army of orcs were on the way.

And she recalled something Thorin had told her long ago: “never underestimate dwarves.” She hated to come before the man she loved dressed for battle, but she wasn’t sure what kind of plan he had come up with to handle Thranduil’s army.

Oreliell sighed and glanced at Thranduil. She nodded.

“Then I shall make sure that you have it.”

He stepped aside to deliver the orders to one of his guards. Bard looked at the Arkenstone then at the sisters.

“What do you make of it?” he asked. “The stone.”

“Bilbo is right about it,” Oreliell said after a moment. “Thorin craves this stone more than anything. It is sacred to the dwarven people, the crowning glory and symbol of their house and power. Thorin will not be pleased to see it in your hands.”

“Our hands? Would you not carry this?”

“I barely want to look at it,” she admitted. “That rock has taken away more from me in the past few days than I ever wanted to lose. And that says a lot, for I have lost much in my long lifetime. Simply seeing me siding with you will create a reaction. I do not want Thorin to think that I have betrayed him further by taking that stone.”

Bard nodded.

“I understand. I shall speak with Thranduil to see what we shall do with it.”

“Before we get to that,” Thranduil said as he stepped back inside the tent, “I would like to have a word with Oreliell.”

Bard glanced at her before going outside. Vedis stayed a minute longer. She studied Thranduil for a long moment before looking at her sister.

“I will go inspect the armor we are being given. If you would like, I can take your swords with me?” she said. 

“Thank you,” Oreliell said, passing her blades over.

“Let me know if you need me.”

“I will, muinthel.” 

Vedis nodded and stepped out. Oreliell took a breath before looking at Thranduil. The elven king had remained standing and was watching her.

“{You risk a lot going with us tomorrow,}” Thranduil said after a long moment. “{Why do it?}”

“{Because I have already lost so much. And I do not wish to lose my betrothed as well.}”

“{Even after everything he has put you through?}”

“{Do not pretend you know him better than I do.}”

Thranduil motioned for her to follow him. They stepped outside once again to look at the mountain. The braziers were lit above the gate, but otherwise everything appeared normal. Oreliell couldn’t help but wonder what was going on inside.

“I want you to know that I truly do not want this,” Thranduil said. “While the heirlooms of my people are of great importance to me, this was not the outcome I had hoped for. I tried to avoid this when your company passed through my kingdom, but Thorin turned me down.”

“Because he still holds a grudge against you for what you did when Smaug first took the mountain. Or rather, what you didn’t do.”

Thranduil sighed. He turned to look at her.

“I want you to understand what it is you are risking going into this, what this could potentially do to you if things do not go smoothly tomorrow.”

“I am well aware what could happen, Thranduil. And that is why I must be present tomorrow. If something were to happen to Thorin, I would never be able to live with myself. I will protect Thorin with my very life.” She looked at the mountain again. “No matter what happens to me, he will live.”

#The hobbit #Tolkien #Thorin Oakenshield #Thorin #Thorin Oakenshield x oc #Thorin x oc #Thorin Oakenshield x elf oc #Thorin x elf oc #Thorin x elf #The hobbit oc #Fan fiction #Star of the mountain

[lotrthobbit]

                        Fragile Creature

Thorin Oakenshield x Human GN! Reader

Warning: Angst

Reader is called a queen but still everything else should be Gender Neutral

I do not own any of the gifs

[y/n pov]

I lived in a small and crowded town, Lake Town. The town itself felt completely isolated and cold. Everyone was always in a sour mood, the clouds always loomed over the sun causing the hazy darkness to be a norm. It certainly did not look homey, but it was home.

What a provincial life, no escapades, no dashing handsome knights or kings, all but a greedy mayor and his goon who did nothing but enjoy the most finest of silks and delicious pastries and luxurious treatment off the backs of his people.

We were constantly taxed high prices only to be eating the same boring meals everyday, living amongst the cold town fighting for some warmth.

Until he came....

A group of dwarves and a hobbit had stumbled into our town, apparently one of the townsfolk, Bard, who was a kind man, a born leader, yet many looked down on him. He had snuck him into the town, yet the town itself seemed to be overjoyed to be in the presence of loyalty. King under the mountain, son of Thrain, son of Thror. He promised us riches when he reclaimed his stolen home, yet my body filled with fear because legends say that a strong dragon lay asleep in the mountain, Smaug the defiler.

Despite my fear, what could I do, such a charming smile laid on his face as he introduced himself.

I was a simple merchant selling small trinkets I made by hand using the bones from fish and clay, I made small figurines to sell in order to help my [mother/father/guardian] with the necessities.

"These are beautiful." I heard a voice and looked up to see the king himself. Despite his small stature, He carried himself well and strong.

When I looked into his eyes, I felt warmth spread across my cheeks," Thank you, my lord." He offered me some money, far more than what they were worth and placed a kiss upon my hand.

That is how my daily interactions began. At first he seemed to buy many, but then he had joined me whenever I would get on a small boat and go to the land to pick some herbs.

He stated it was for 'safety measures' despite knowing his time was limited here, I found myself falling in love with the handsome dwarf.

He longed to reclaim his home, often times whispering sweet nothings into my ear about how we could live in Erebor alongside one another, it did not matter if I was human, despite many seeing us as fragile 'creatures' we were no different than a dwarf, an elf, a hobbit, etc. We all breathe and fight to survive every single day.

Then came the departure... My hear hurt once they sailed off into the distance nothing but a chaste kiss placed upon my lips and a beautiful ring on my fingertips. Despite our short moments, we found ourselves madly in love.

The days grew dark and grim once again. We were back to the same old routines , no excitement and no warmth. Yet the people were hoping to see the reign of Thorin Oakenshield, the gates of Erebor to open itself and gift its people the riches they once thrived in.

Yet. something far worse happened. The once dark skies became red with fire and smoke. The once groaning and whining of the people were covered with screams of far and agony. The once horribly built structures were set ablaze by no other than Smaug. We were all rushed onto boats as Bard once retook the same role of the great bowman. he struck Smaug down and we all made it safely onto land. But we stared at the small town we once called home, completely parish into nothing.

I held the small ring in my hand, staring off into the mountains, despite my home becoming ashes, the only thing that was in my mind was whether or not my beloved was safe.

We found ourselves settling in the deserted City of Dale, hiding once we heard horns blare, the men going off to fight, women following behind. Us Laketown Folk fought alongside the elves against the orcs, but one thing that scared me the most was that before this, Thorin had completely disregarded us, he disregarded ME.

My heart lay in shambles, but nothing I could do or that he could do to stop me from loving him. I tried making my way towards the mountain hoping to reason with him, but as I got closer, the more Orcs seemed to be in my way. I thought I was going to die, my [short/long/bald] was covered In sweat and blood of my enemies. I stared up making eye contact with Thorin as his eyes widened.

In that moment I felt something puncture me,I fell to my knees still holding my gaze on the dwarf I came to love. Everything became silent to me, I could no longer hear anything but I could see Thorin was yelling. I felt my vision cloud with darkness until I could no longer see.

Momentarily it felt as if finally I could be at peace, despite knowing he was infected with the dragon sickness, I still felt better knowing he was safe and alive.

" [y/n]"

that voice ?

" [y/n} "

no, no he can not be here, it Is not his time.

I was in darkness, I was dead, I knew that much, yet why could I hear his voice ?

I turned around once I heard my name again and there he stood, there he stood with his hands spread wide, my heart hurt knowing we ended in the sam predicament but I could not hold myself back from running into his arms.

I felt other arms hug me and I realized Kili and Fili were here as well. Despite the darkness, it didn't feel so lonely.

" I promised to be with you forever." He whispered as he kissed me again

" forever." I repeated back.

[ Narrator pov]

As they all gathered looking at the tombs of Fili, Kili and Thorin Oakenshield, and beside him lay his lover. For all eternity this kingdom will flourish because of their sacrifices.

" LONG LIVE THE KING AND QUEEN "

the horns began to blare as they all mourned, Bilbo Baggins felt melancholy, his friends died but part of him was happy that they could all be reunited in the afterlife.

FIN

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#thorin #the hobbit #elves #elven #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fan fiction #one shot #Thorin Oakenshield x reader #thorin x reader #lotr #erebor #Oakenshield #the hobbit thorin #Thorin oakenshield fanfic #thorin son of thrain #the hobbit oneshot #dwarves #dwarven king

[thirstyhoesupreme]

Wanna read my stories? You can find them all HERE!

- daddy x

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[rite-te-suli-kireysi-ite]

Metamorphosis by Dragmir

Rating:

Teen And Up

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Pairings:

Female Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield

Bilbo Baggins & Thorin's Company

Bilbo Baggins & Dís

Ori/Dwalin

Status:

Incomplete

68k words

last updated 2020/01/17

Summary:

Or, the one where Belladonna Baggins is sent back in time, if maybe a little too early?

Bella Baggins, young once more, decides to give the Quest for Erebor another shot. Only this time, she intends to get a headstart. After waking up in Bag End, Bella conjures a plan to help Dwarf and Hobbit alike and if it means she gets to see her old friends a little earlier than last time, well, where's the harm?

#the hobbit #hobbit fic rec #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #thorin's company #female bilbo baggins #bagginshield #bilbo x thorin #female bilbo x thorin #fic rec #the hobbit fan fiction #hobbit fanfic

[snazzynacho]

Snapdragon & Co.

The Hobbit Fan Fiction/Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!fairy!elf!oc

Masterlist

Chapter Two: Comforts of Home

Nessa hadn't known much of The Shire or its inhabitants. Though Rogue apparently did as throughout almost the entire journey to The Shire, Rogue had complained about a Hobbit being allowed, no, asked, to join them on the quest. And it hadn't stopped now, even when they arrived in Hobbiton.

"Can we talk about something else now?" Nessa whined.

"What?"

"The whole journey here you've been complaining about a Hobbit joining us."

"Not my problem a Hobbit going on an adventure is unheard of! What is Gandalf thinking?!"

"Gods, you're not even Dwarven yet you're so stubborn."

"I was raised by them though," Stated Rogue.

Nessa sighed. She hated arguing or anything along those lines. "All the more reason we need anybody we can get to help Thorin and his people."

Rogue grunted in frustration, knowing Nessa was talking perfect sense.

After a few moments passed Nessa spoke up.

"So, is he hot?"

"Who?"

"Thorin..."

Rogue came to a stop. They swivelled around to face Nessa, and glared at her, arms crossed.

"I'm just asking the important question here,"

"The important question here is where on Earth are we?!" Rogue held their map, vigorously turning it and inspecting it from different angles. The next couple of hours drained on. Their map reading skills were not up to measure, clearly. Nonetheless, they had finally reached a market in Bag-End. A very busy one.

"Where are we supposed to find Bilbo now?" Nessa spoke her thoughts aloud.

"Bilbo Baggins?" A fellow Hobbit asked, having overheard.

"Yes, we are looking for him. Do you know where he might be?"

"You're in the right place. He's just over there." The Hobbit pointed to another Hobbit before walking off. The Hobbit in question was further away from them. He anxiously stalked the market, stopping shortly at a stall. It seemed he was waiting for someone, as he glanced at the letter in his hand and back up, skimming the crowd.

"Well, that was easy." They said, striding over with a beat in their step, they felt confident in their plan.

Before Rogue could utter a word, Nessa talked first. "Hello, Mr Baggins. It's nice to meet you." She held her hand out for him to shake, who in return, sent them a puzzled look yet shook her hand to be polite. "I'm sorry, but, do I know you?"

"In a way..." Nessa hesitated.

"Right-" He looked down at his letter and the stall of food again.

Seeing he was losing interest, Rogue noticed the letter and smugly spoke, needing to get to the point. "I suggest you stock up, it will be quite the dinner this evening."

Bilbo looked at them quizzically.

"Oh, and here, have this honey!" The pair held out a jar of pink honey. By the time Bilbo accepted the gift, they had run off, leaving a very confused Hobbit. He listened to them though and began to buy a couple of other things, thinking it'll just be them...

_______________

Truth be told Bilbo's home was a small dome-shaped hill with a circular green door, fit for any Hobbit, just as Rogue described to Nessa along the journey. Even in the dark, it looked welcoming.

Nessa and Rogue stood near the front of his house where they told Pilvi to wait for them outside.

"When do you think will be the most inconvenient time for us to show up?" Nessa mischievously asked. "I want to see him livid," She giggled. By now, they'd watched several dwarves enter Bilbo's home, waiting for the right moment.

"Hmm. Just follow my lead,"

Suddenly they heard someone near them. Someone running. "Come on Kili, you can run faster than that!" The person shouted as they ran closer as another, presumed to be Kili, ran behind him.

The two fairies jumped behind a bush, successfully hiding themselves as the two men reached Bilbo's house.

"Not fair, Fili. You started running first." Kili panted.

"Nuh-uh. I'm just fast. I've still got it," He pridefully admired his muscles causing Kili to roll his eyes.

"What was this Hobbit's name anyway? Mr Biggins?" Fili pondered.

"No no, I'm sure it was Mr Boggins, or was it Bimbo?—"

Fili shrugged and proceeded to ring the doorbell. He just wanted nice warm food and a drink of - preferably - ale.

During this, Nessa had been trying ever so hard to stifle her laugh. And it only got worse when Bilbo opened the door, an irritated look on his face remained as it did the previous times this evening a dwarf was at his door.

The pair introduced themselves as: "Fili." "And Kili."

"At your service." They said at once and bowed.

"You must be Mr. Boggins," Kili said.

"No! You can't come in, you've come to the wrong house." Bilbo tried to shut the door but Kili stopped him. "What?! Has it been cancelled?" he asked. The distraught look on Kili's face only entertained the two hiding fairies even more.

"No one told us," Fili added.

"Can-! No, nothing's been cancelled."

"That's a relief."

"Careful with these, I just had them sharpened," Kili said as he handed over a pile of weapons to Bilbo and barged inside with Fili striding behind.

Seeing the flustered expression on Bilbo's face was the last straw for Nessa - she let out a wheeze of a laugh and just before it could turn into a proper belly laugh, Rogue slapped their hand on her mouth, muffling her laughs, and the bush rustled from the movement. To which Bilbo thought he heard something outside but was ultimately distracted by Kili rubbing his boot on his furniture.

"That's my mother's glory box, can you please not do that?!"

They heard Bilbo say as Rogue gestured for Nessa to follow, quickly but quietly leaving their positions behind the bush. The two walked into the house, the door closing behind them.

"Fili, Kili, come on, give us a hand," Dwalin called for them and they followed, not noticing the fairies. If only Bilbo could do that. He turned around and thought he was going to drop the weapons and combust in rage at the sight of them - which didn't help with Nessa's giggling.

Amid their secret entrance, Rogue couldn't resist a theatrical touch. With a flourish of their hand and a raised eyebrow, Rogue delivered their line to a bemused Bilbo, "You might want to hand those weapons to me, Mr Baggins, someone is at the door,"

He staggered backwards but was able to compose himself. "No one is at the door!"

Nessa's giggling persisted, even though her hand was on her mouth. Only further aggravating the poor Hobbit.

"No, look! Someone is ringing the bell right now!"

"NO THERE'S—"

*Ring.*

Their prediction rang true. Rogue smirked at Bilbo's face, seeing him turn red, as he angrily threw the weapons into Rogue's arms and stormed off to answer the door. They swore they could see steam flaring out of his ears for a second.

"How rude," Rogue remarked and Nessa stifled another giggle, impressed by her sister's flair for the dramatic. They revelled in the lightheartedness of the moment, eager for the adventure that lay ahead and the camaraderie they would forge on this grand quest.

After moving aside, Rogue placed the weapons carefully on the floor out of the way, unlike Bilbo. They took a moment to gather their composure, knowing that their true purpose would soon be revealed. The anticipation of the adventure ahead mingled with the amusement of this unexpected start, creating a sense of belonging that hinted at the bonds they would forge on this daring quest to reclaim Erebor.

Peeking around the corner, they saw the door swing open and a bunch of dwarves fall into a heap on the floor, on top of each other, earning another laugh from Nessa. Even Rogue sniggered.

A grey wizard peered into the house behind the dwarves. Gandalf. With no time for Rogue to grab Nessa, dart behind a wall, and pretend they didn't see each other, he and Nessa had already locked eyes, and he sent her a complicated look - a mix of perplexity and suspicion. Nessa felt a flicker of uncertainty. The renowned wizard's sharp eyes seemed to search for hidden truths. However, he turned his attention back to Bilbo and the clumsy mound of dwarves, allowing Nessa and Rogue a moment of relief.

_________________

Whilst all the dwarves were grabbing and snatching different foods from cheeses, bread, meats - and not to mention alcohol - Nessa and Rogue respectfully stood aside marvelling at the chaos unfolding in front of them with nothing but a plate of food and a teacup ale each, classy yet down-to-party, reflecting a sense of poise amidst the merriment.

Sipping wine occasionally, Nessa took pleasure in the jovial disarray of the dwarves ransacking Bilbo's pantry before their eyes. Sometimes, when she could get ahold of food she added it to her plate. The variety of foods showcased the cultural richness of the different lands they were from, a testament to the uniqueness that comprised the company. As they nibbled on their golden toast doused in the pink citrusy honey they gifted Bilbo, Rogue on the other hand had their watchful eye make sure they were always out of Gandalf's line of vision, wanting to be discreet, avoiding him at least until the meeting.

When it came to the song the dwarves began to sing as they cleared the dishes - 'blunt the knives, bend the forks' - Nessa's enthusiastic clapping and Rogue's polite applause blended harmoniously with the dwarves' spirited song, filling the room with a sense of companionship. This all reminded them of the few comforts of home they so missed, one of them more than the other.

Sensing someone new, Rogue urged Nessa to quieten down right as the doorbell rang for the last time that night. A silence replenished the room momentarily.

"He is here," Gandalf declared.

Rogue passed Nessa a glass of wine. "Shit's getting serious?" Nessa joked to her sister.

"I'd say so. Besides, this is the last good wine we'll have in quite some time, we need this."

Nessa nodded and gulped wine, the bitter but sweet flavour lingered on her tongue as she savoured it. Going in for another taste, she nearly choked. A noble, slightly taller looking dwarf with long dark wavy hair, framed perfectly with a couple of white strands, entered. Everything about him - from the dramatic way his arrival was announced, to his demeanour - oozed authority. Even the warm smile he gave the dwarves, she found attractive. He must have been Thorin Oakenshield. King of Durin's Folk. And...

"...The leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield." Gandalf introduced Thorin to Bilbo.

Thorin's smile turned stern when he noticed Nessa and Rogue yet he kept quiet. Instead, he joined everyone at the table. Nessa quickly took off to the kitchen and diligently prepared soup using some leftovers, hoping to extend a gesture of goodwill and earn some favour within the company. When she presented the bowl to Thorin she offered a shy but warm smile, his hesitation was apparent, but hunger won over scepticism.

The two fairies stood behind Kili and Fili, somewhat out of the way. After eating and drinking heartily with his kin, he became serious again and undoubtedly wanted to start a conversation on the quest.

So far, all through the evening, most of the dwarves had given Nessa and Rogue wary looks. They noted that the pair were likely fairies due to Rogue's bright blue hair and Nessa's hair (although a normal dark blonde) also had pinky gold highlights in - yet they did not look entirely Fae-like. At least not of their ideas on what Fairies should look like; Rogue's hair was braided intricately suspiciously in a style reminiscent of Dwarvish craftsmanship, and Nessa's handmade dress on her chubby figure from afar could look like any mismatch of patterns found at markets sewed together. Nothing like fae fashion. And not to mention their heights - they were the same height as the dwarves! Yes, only slightly taller but they also were nowhere near as tall as elves...Last but not least, there were no fairy wings in sight! It was clear that their presence seemed out of place and raised questions about their true identity and intentions, and now, as the discussion to consult the quest approached, the lingering caution and uncertainty among the dwarves remained, leaving Nessa and Rogue acutely aware of the need to prove their worth and establish their role in this company bound for Erebor.

The dwarves all had one question in particular - what were two fairies doing at a, supposedly, private meeting of dwarves to reclaim their homeland?

"Now that you've stopped hiding from me, I'd like to know what your sister is doing here." Gandalf directed at Rogue, as he sensed the ongoing tension towards the two sisters. At this, Nessa side-eyed Rogue, sending her a searching glance for the truth.

Surely Gandalf knew she was tagging along? Nessa had assumed that's why he was there on that fateful day. Evidently, Rogue had taken the initiative to ask her to join the company, yet Gandalf's inquiry brought a different perspective to light.

"Well, I didn't inform you but I did inform the leader of this company," Rogue voiced nonchalantly.

The revelation of Rogue's secret communication with Thorin left the company in an uproar. Clamorous objections rose from the group. The dwarves exchanged incredulous glances, their trust in Thorin momentarily shaken. In the midst of the confusion, Nessa and Rogue found themselves at the centre of a storm they had unintentionally ignited. Amongst the commotion, questions upon questions flew at Thorin.

"Is this true Thorin?"

"How long have you kept this from us?!"

Rogue saw Thorin's face contorted in disbelief at their statement and said, "Yes, I have. The letter is in your front left pocket."

The room became silent. They watched Thorin reach into his pocket and pull out a letter. Gasps and murmurs of shock from the company broke the stillness. Thorin dramatically held the letter in front of him, as if it was the most precious thing in the world. Gandalf immediately snatched it. He ever so carefully unfolded it, and read it. All that was printed on it were stamps that represented Rogue, their sister and their pets. He glared at Nessa and Rogue, slamming the letter on the table, with an exasperated huff. "Fairies and their mischief,"

Gandalf's remark hung heavily in the air, an indication of the distinctive circumstances surrounding Nessa and Rogue's inclusion in the quest. They exchanged a glance, realising that their path forward would be even more challenging than they had anticipated, as they needed to overcome not only their own doubts but the mistrust of Thorin's company as well.

"I've personally looked that letter over from front to back and not found a single word," Balin spoke. "How on Earth could it have addressed your arrival?" Balin thought back to when Thorin first received the letter. Thorin had angrily rushed around the entire place, asking anyone and everyone if they had sent the alleged indecipherable letter to him. If it was some sort of trick. They had even hunched over the letter, inspected it using a magnifying glass, and were still met with the same four vertically placed stamps.

Rogue grabbed the letter back and showed the group. In order, they explained that each stamp in a fairy letter symbolised someone or something. They began with the first stamp - a hand holding a rose representing Pilvi, Nessa's pet. Then the second beneath it - the cat: Pip, Rogue's cat. Then at the bottom, the butterfly: Nessa and the Rose: Rogue.

With the company's reluctant understanding and acceptance, a tentative sense of unity began to form within the group.

At this, Bilbo retrieved his letter and gave it a look over again, realising the letter he also received was from the two fairies as well. Now recognising the stamps with meaning, as illustrated.

Moving on to the more important part of the evening, they finally started to discuss the quest. Balin began by asking if the dwarves of the Iron Hill would be joining - which turned out to be no - "They will not come. They say this quest is ours, and ours alone."

"You're doing a quest?" Asked Bilbo and Rogue had to use all their willpower not to face-palm, or worse, smack him.

"Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light. Far to the East, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak." Gandalf restated, spreading a map on the table for all to see.

"The Lonely Mountain."

"Aye, Oin has read the portents, and the portents say: it is time," Gloin expressed and Oin elaborated with, "Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold. When the birds of the old return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end." At the mention of birds, Nessa pondered to herself if Pilvi was doing alright outside, in the dark, alone, but was interrupted by Bilbo, bringing her attention back to the real problem at stake: "Uh...what beast?"

"Well, that would be a reference to Smaug the terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals." Bofur clarified.

"Yes, I know what a dragon is."

Ah. A dragon...Nessa hadn't really thought about who they had to fight. Too late to back out now.

Ori who was especially eager stood up and announced: "I'm not afraid, I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of the dwarfish iron right up his jacksy!" Rogue face-palmed for real this time while Nessa giggled.

"Good lad, Ori!"

"Sit down!" Dori grabbed his brother, reminding the two sisters of each other.

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us, but we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best, nor brightest," Balin said, feeling defeated already.

"Hey! Who are you calling dim?"

"Sorry, what did he say?"

Fili then spoke proudly, reassuring his kin. "We may be few in number. But we're fighters, all of us! To the last dwarf!"

"And you forget we have a wizard in our company, Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time." Kili looked over at Gandalf expectantly.

"Oh, well. No, uh, I...I wouldn't say..." Gandalf spluttered over his words.

"How many then?"

"What?"

"Well, how many dragons have you killed? Go on, give us a number!" Dori insisted. The room quietened, waiting for what they hoped to be an impressive answer from Gandalf.

However, an embarrassed Gandalf started to cough on his pipe smoke making the dwarves groan and shout at one another, feeling hopeless.

Thorin abruptly rose to his feet. "Enough!" He roared. The dwarves sat back down. "If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumours have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look East to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?"

Thorin was right. Rogue had heard all about this for years, and now more than ever, in recent months. Inspired by the speech, the dwarves jumped and cheered. His words struck a nerve with Nessa, who had always wondered if she should return to the abandoned fairyland.

Balin stood and raised his voice. "You forget the front gate is sealed! There is no way into the mountain."

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." With a twiddle of his fingers, Gandalf produced a Dwarvish key, ornately wrought.

Thorin's eyes lit up and he looked at it in wonder. "How came you by this?" He questioned curiously.

"It was given to me by your father, by Thrain, for safekeeping. It is yours now." Gandalf handed the key to Thorin, who held it in awe. Everyone looked on in proud astonishment. Including Nessa and Rogue.

"If there's a key, there must be a door!" Fili exclaimed excitedly.

"Very astute observation," Rogue whispered sarcastically to her sister. Rogue's sarcasm had hit the mark, and Nessa burst out laughing, but in the midst of their serious discussion about the quest, Nessa's laughter seemed like an outburst at an inappropriate time. A few sent scrutinized glances her way and she quickly realised how it might be perceived and made an effort to regain her composure, all while attempting to convey that her amusement was unrelated to the quest itself.

Fili's observation, though met with humour, was indeed astute, and the company continued to brainstorm and plan their next steps, eager to unlock the way into Erebor. "These ruins speak of a hidden passage to the Lower Halls." The wizard pointed to runes on the map, ignoring the 'fairies and their mischief.'

"There's another way in," Kili noted.

"Well, if we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map...and I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in Middle-Earth who can." Everyone looked at him, listening carefully. "The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. But, if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar," Ori stated.

"A good one too. An expert, I'd imagine." Bilbo added.

"And are you?" Gloin asked.

Bilbo froze, half confused, half afraid. "Am I what?"

"He said he's an expert! Hey!" Gloin cried out, optimistically, and the other dwarves cheerfully joined in. Rogue snorted...Bilbo didn't even know he was to be part of this journey beforehand and they had to travel all this way to Hobbiton for him...Just for him to mess up this badly...

Bilbo's face however was livid with shock causing the fairies to laugh again. "Me? No, no, no, I'm not a burglar. I've never stolen a thing in my life."

"I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He's hardly burglar material." Balin conversed.

"Aye, the wild is no place for gentlefolk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves." Dwalin agreed.

Bilbo nodded in desperate agreement, ignoring the insult. Nonetheless, Gandalf shook his head, irritated. He stood tall, imposing the dwarves who looked on in shock. "Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then he is. Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet! In fact, they can go unseen by most if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of a Hobbit is all but unknown to him which gives us a distinct advantage."

Gandalf turned to Thorin, determined to make his point. "You asked me to find another member of this company and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest, and he's got a great deal to offer than any of you know, including himself. You must trust me on this."

Thorin sighed and for a moment scanned the room, weighing the outcome. "What about those two?" He nodded over at Nessa and Rogue, all eyes on them.

Nessa waved slightly but Rogue smacked her hand. "As for them, well, Rogue is remarkably agile and has a talent in magic - fae magic in particular - and that I do know to be very rare these days, so we are lucky to have them on this quest. Their sister, Nessa, on the other hand-" he wavered to continue so Rogue cut in. "-Is exceptionally talented with her axe," - Rogue grabbed at the pink axe that was attached to Nessa's belt at the back that just peered over the top of her head and showed the company - "and, I assure you, she is not afraid to use it."

"We are descendants of the Fallen Fae and I know what it is like to lose your home, so please, we would like to contribute to this quest." Nessa pleaded.

Thorin regarded Nessa with a newfound understanding, her words resonating with the struggles and losses he had faced as a leader seeking to reclaim his homeland. Growing up, Thorin had heard of the Fallen Fae, of their tragedy. From this moment forward he promised himself he would hold the sisters in high regard. If they could prove their worth, that is.

"Very well. Your dedication to the cause is duly noted. We shall need all the skills we can muster." He settled. "Give them our contract."

A sense of relief washed over them. Nessa's heart soared with gratitude, and Rogue offered a respectful nod.

Balin handed a scrolled contract to Bilbo to which Thorin grabbed and shoved it at him, who unrolled the scroll, which nearly reached the floor. Balin began explaining that the contract was a summary of out-of-pocket expenses, including... "Funeral arrangements?" Bilbo queried after looking at the contract reluctantly.

Bilbo, now intensely reading it, was growing more and more distressed with each new word he spoke, "...Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof, including, but not limited to - lacerations? Evisceration? Incineration?"

"Oh, aye, he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye." Bofur teased.

A white sheet of paleness covered his complexion. Bilbo seemed breathless and unwell. His grip on the contract tightened nervously, needing something to hold onto, as he grabbed a hand to his chest.

"You alright, laddie?" Balin asked, worriedly glancing at Bilbo.

"Huh? Yeah, I feel...I feel a bit faint."

"Think furnace, with wings," Bofur egged on.

"I...I...I need air."

"Flash of light, searing pain, then poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ash!" Bofur continued, much to the situation. The vivid descriptions of potential injuries were enough to make anyone apprehensive, and the jests from the dwarves only exacerbated his anxiety. So much so that he managed to let out a pained "No-" before fainting, falling to the floor.

"Oh, very helpful, Bofur." Gandalf sarcastically said.

Rogue walked up to the unconscious Bilbo and poked him with their boot. When they confirmed he was out like a light they pried the contract from his grip. Nessa brought out two large stamps for them each from her bag. They skipped to the last page where the spaces for their signatures were and raised their stamps to print. Having not realised how loud the stamps would be when they collided with the paper with an audible thump, everyone jumped. Additional disapproved glances were sent their way though the dwarves tried to trust their leader, Thorin's, decision to accept them.

"Not going to read the terms and conditions?" Fili asked them.

"I mean, Bilbo here just read it for us before he...fainted...but It's not like we have anything to lose."

Rogue said indifferently when a ginger kitten poked his head out of their pocket and meowed softly. "Isn't that right, Pip?"

Excitement grew amongst the company with the upcoming quest ready to commence and now with the added addition of a cat, the companionship was prospering already. The tiny feline seemed to captivate the attention of the dwarves, melting hearts and creating a brief respite from the otherwise serious discussion.

Thorin of course wanted to send scrutiny, though he couldn't help but crack a smile at his happy kin, welcoming and recognising that bonds were forming that would be crucial on their journey to reclaim Erebor.

_______________________

Thorin stood by the fireplace, pipe smoke in hand. The golden glow from the fire lit up his face revealing the stoic expression that was still present as he was in deep thought. The crackling fire was unexpectedly interrupted as he began singing.

Far over the misty mountains cold.

One by one each dwarves began joining in, following Thorin's lead.

To dungeons deep and caverns old.

We must away, ere break of day.

To find our long-forgotten gold...

Their deep voices hummed and gently sang heartfelt and deeply meaningful lyrics together, harmonising perfectly. Their pain and sorrow filled the now atmospheric room, and Nessa, who stood to the side solemnly with her sister, wiped a tear away from her cheek she didn't know was there. This hit close to home. She understood their pain. Their burdens. Their losses. She knew what it was like having no home. Forgotten gold for her was her heritage which, over the years, had been slipping away from her. If only they could truly see that. See they cared. She hoped to prove this. They did have a whole quest to fulfil together after all.

___________________

Thanks for reading! Please reblog if you liked it :)

#the hobbit #Thorin x oc #fan fiction #snapdragon & co. snazzynacho #Thorin Oakenshield #the hobbit fan fiction #thorin fan fiction #thorin and company #the hobbit thorin #fili and kili #erebor #hobbit fic

[middleearthpixie]

Something in the Night ~ Chapter Eleven

Summary: Following the Battle of the Five Armies, a seriously wounded Thorin Oakenshield returns to Erebor to recuperate and eventually ascend the throne as king. With the deaths of Azog the Defiler and his son, Bolg, Thorin no longer has to worry about the bounty the Defiler placed on his head and can instead concentrate on restoring Erebor to its former glory. 

Nina Carren of Esgaroth has one goal—to make Thorin Oakenshield pay for unleashing Smaug the dragon unto her home—where he destroyed the town and killed her family. The Defiler might be gone, but his bounty remains very much in place, and she fully intends to collect on it. 

Finally, the opportunity shows itself for her to do just that, only to have it go horribly awry. Wounded and now at his mercy, neither Nina nor Thorin stopped to think what might happen, should things not go quite according to plan…

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x ofc Nina Carren

Warnings: Unprotected intercourse, a little teeny bit of angst

Rating: M

Word Count: 4.5k

Khuzdul: kurduwê - my heart

  Abnâmul-beautiful

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @fizzyxcustard @lathalea @legolasbadass @xxbyimm @kibleedibleedoo @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @knittastically@notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @msjava1972 @glassgulls @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @sazzlep

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here. 

Nina managed to avoid Thorin for the rest of the day, which actually wasn't all that difficult, as she remained in her chambers and had no idea where he had gone. He might have left, for all she knew. In fact, she almost hoped he had. It would make things easier. 

She saw him at supper, however, and it was with a mixture of relief and apprehension, as more than once, he looked over at her as if he was going to say something, only to turn back instead to Thranduíl or Legolas. Her heart actually felt as if it skipped a beat when he got up and moved to sit beside her. “We plan to leave at dawn’s first light.”

She nodded. “And should I meet you?”

“Only if you wish to travel with us.”

“Do you wish me to travel with you?”

Irritation flashed through his blue eyes. “Why would you ask me that?”

“I think it’s obvious, don't you?”

He glanced across the table at Dwalin, and then toward their hosts before looking back at her. “I apologize for overstepping earlier, Nina. It was foolish of me and right of you to halt things as you did.”

“You needn’t apologize,” she told him. “I overstepped just as much and I thought we were going to pretend it never happened?”

“I just—I sense you’re still angry with me.”

“I wasn’t angry with you at all. You were angry with me.”

He drew in a slow breath. “I wasn't angry with you.”

“So, then it never happened?”

“It never happened.”

“Good.” Although she smiled as if a huge weight had been lifted, the truth was, she felt anything but happy over this turn of events. On the walkway, when he kissed her, it reminded her of all the feelings she’d had that snowy night in Esgaroth, when she first laid eyes upon him. Reminded her of all the feelings that were so wonderful and frustrating at the same time and how she’d wished with everything she had that he would notice her.

And now he had and it was all for naught. She was no longer that same lovestruck girl. Too much had happened since then and now for her to ever be that girl again. 

Which was too bad, really, as she thoroughly enjoyed kissing him and if things hadn’t worked out the way they had…

She could easily fall under his spell, for the King Under the Mountain had no idea how truly desirable he was, and she had the feeling that Mirkwood was not the only thing magical around her. 

“So, I will see you in the morning,” she told him, pushing her chair back. 

“We will wait for you at the eastern gate.”

“Good.” She stood and smiled at Thranduíl. “Thank you for a lovely supper, Your Majesty. If you will excuse me, I think I will go and get what will probably be my last good night’s sleep for some time to come.”

“Of course,” Thranduíl replied. “Good evening.”

She turned and left the dining hall to go back to her chambers. After she and Thorin parted ways that morning, she had gone down to the stream that flowed not far from her chambers and gathered the clothes she wished to wash. Heeding his warnings about enchanted waters, she took great care to pay close attention to her surroundings, but nothing seemed at all amiss to her.

Even so, she’d washed everything as quickly as she could and laid it out on the rocks to allow it to dry and now, her sword at her hip, she went to retrieve everything. Hopefully, it would be dry enough to pack. It had been a clear day, with sun filtering through the treetops, so she thought there was a good chance everything would be just fine. 

Carefully, she picked her way around tree roots, branches, and the typical woodland debris as she made her way to the bank where her trousers and tunics lay spread out on rocks that were still warm.

She’d chosen wisely.

She was just folding her trousers when the sound of a branch snapping gave her pause. Her sword lay at her feet, so she swept it up and rose, saying, “Who goes?”

“I thought I told you to stay away from the streams?”

Her shoulders relaxed as Thorin came around the bend in the path. “You did and this one is fine.”

“Nina.”

“What? The air feels fine here. And besides, I am not your responsibility. I’m certainly of the age where I can decide for myself where to launder my clothes.” She resheathed her blade, then crouched to pluck the shirt she’d laid out from its rock.

“You need to be careful.”

“I am being careful.” She gave up trying to fold anything and just stuffed the mostly dry clothes into her sack. Then she rose, slipping the strap over her shoulder. “Why are you even here?”

“Because I wanted to make certain you made it back to your chambers all right.”

“Back to my… we aren’t in the wild, Thorin.” She pushed around him to march back toward her chambers. 

“We might as well be. I told you, Mirkwood is not always as it seems and dark magic permeates it. I am on cordial terms with the elves here, but they don't know you.”

“The elves have nothing to fear from me, either. And somehow, I think they know that.” She didn't slow down, didn't break her stride as she made her way along the path. “And stop following me.”

“I will. Once you are safe in your chambers.”

“Argh!” She rolled her eyes, and promptly stumbled over an exposed root, but managed to keep her footing and continue on.

At her door, she turned to find him still right behind her. “See? I’m fine. Now, you can just go about your business and I will see you in the morning.”

“Nina,” he reached for her, catching her just above the elbow to halt her, “I know this place and I know what it can do to a body.”

“And I am fine. Nothing reached forth from the water to grab me. No nymphs or balrogs or anything.” She opened her door and stepped over the threshold, setting her sack just inside it, her sword alongside it, and then sighed softly. “I appreciate your concern. But, I’ve made it all this way on my own, remember.”

“I know, but… I cannot help it.” He gestured to her. “May I?”

“Come in.”

He thumped into her chambers, his heavy boots echoing loudly against the wood floor. “I’m not checking up on you because I think you’re incapable of taking care of yourself. Or because I think you are inept. I’ve seen for myself you aren’t. But, I also want to make certain you are safe, Nina. And I’ll not apologize for that.”

“I’m not asking you to apologize for it. But I also don't need you to worry about me. Really, I don’t. I’ve been taking care of myself for quite a bit now, and I’m mostly good at it.”

He arched one brow. “Mostly?”

“Well… every now and then something goes wrong.”

“Such as a to-do at a tavern?”

“Exactly.”

“I know, but…” to her surprise, he closed the space between them and her heartbeat picked up as he reached to catch her face in his hands, “that won’t stop me from wanting to be certain, as I said.”

“Thorin,” her head spun, slowly at first, but as his thumbs swept lightly across her cheeks, the dizziness grew, spreading through her, “I thought we agreed this morning never happened?”

“I know,” he murmured, leaning in until his lips just brushed hers. “Do you truly wish to pretend that, though?”

“I just—” She couldn’t catch her breath as he brushed her lips with his again, the last of her resolve melting away at the gentle caress. No, she didn't want to pretend that at all. Not tonight. Tonight, she wanted to forget everything that led her to this point. None of it mattered. Not one bit. All that mattered was the feel of his hands against her skin, his lips sweeping hers, and the heat that rose from his body to sink into hers.

He pulled back just far enough to offer up a smile laden with promise and whispered, “You just what, Nina?”

She smiled and without thinking, caught the front of his henley in a fist and tugged him back. “Never mind. Just kiss me, dwarf…”

A low rumble of laughter rolled up from him as he did just that, and leaned in to capture her lips in a soft, gentle kiss. It did not remain soft and gentle for long, however, as a slow fire crept into it, the tip of his tongue brushing her closed lips, teasing them into parting before sweeping along hers in silken caress that she reciprocated. Her hands came to rest on his shoulders, as solid as the rest of him, the rise of muscle across them like granite. As the kiss deepened, she slid her hands up along the sides of his neck, into his hair, cool and soft against her fingers. On their own, her fingers twisted into those soft locks, her heart thundering like mad now as he backed her flush against the wall.

It wasn't like anything she’d ever felt before, the solid bulk of a dwarf’s body was so much different from the thinner, more sinewy Men who’d stolen kisses from her before. This was… this was like being engulfed by him, surrounded by a maleness that no Man could ever hope to possess. And when his hips slowly, steadily arched to meet hers, she shivered at the obvious  evidence of his arousal. How could she miss it, when that most definite bulge met her most sensitive cleft and she shivered against him?

His tongue moved slowly, teasingly along hers in a caress that sent her head spinning wildly and her heart pounding out of control. The room around them grew so hot, her breath grew so impossible to catch, and when he broke the kiss to sweep his lips along her chin and down the front of her neck, Nina was powerless to do anything other than let her head thud dully against the wall and let her eyes close as the delicious heat swept through her.

His fingers curled into the hem of her tunic and he swept it up, pulling away to allow her room to lift her arms for him to slip the shirt from her back completely. The air was a warm kiss against her skin, a caress as wanton and wicked as any and when he came flush against her again, the rough weave of his henley scraped sensually against her skin, against her nipples, which beaded from the friction. 

She bit down on her bottom lip as he brushed his lips over her chin. The coarse fur of his beard scratched her, but it only heightened her pleasure as he pressed hot kiss after hot kiss down toward the hollow of her throat, his breath warm and hard against her overheated skin. She clung to him, her hips rocking to meet his, his desire becoming her own as inside her, knots tightened and that heat surged through her. 

He slid one hand up from her hip, along the slope of her waist, and she sucked in a hard breath when it cupped her left breast and his thumb just barely swept over the already tight, aching bead of her nipple. 

Gripping two handfuls of his shirt, she tugged and he obliged, the rough garment sweeping up and off him to fall into the darkness at their feet. Her hands came to rest on his shoulders, his skin hot and firm, the muscle like granite beneath his skin. She ached to touch him, to sweep her lips over any part of him she could, to explore and tease and make him ache for her the way she ached for him.

Because she did ache for him. Her entire body cried out for his, pleaded with her to find some way to make him spirit her to the bed in the corner, where her legs would part of their own and she would welcome him hot and hard and powerful inside her. 

Knots twisted in her belly. Delicious knots of sinful delight that tightened with each sweep of his tongue against hers, with each pass of his roughened thumbs over her oh-so-sensitive nipples. Her arousal came damp and hot between her thighs, and she wanted to peel off her trousers, to wrap her legs about him, and ease that ache in any way she could. 

His lips were hot and damp, his kisses punctuated with teasing flicks of his tongue, playful nips with his teeth as he moved along the curve of her neck, then swept back down along the same path.

He kissed down along the inner curve of her left breast and she whimpered from the fiery pleasure streaking through her. Her eyes were so heavy-lidded, but she forced them open, drinking in the sight of him as he sank to his knees before her while raining a path of teasing kisses along her belly.

He looked up then, his eyes smoked sapphire as he caught the button of her trousers and slid it free. The linen skimmed along her legs, and when he looked up, fire filled his gaze, his eyes blazing sapphire to steal the breath from her lungs. 

“Abnâmul,” he whispered, his voice husky and low as his fingertips just grazed along the backs of her thighs.”

“I—I don't know what that means,” she managed to whisper back. “I don’t speak your tongue.”

A devilish smile played at his lips. “It means you are beautiful.”

Heat flared through her. Heat from his words. From his gaze. From his touch. It was a wonder she didn't melt into a puddle right then, especially when he leaned in and pressed a hot kiss just below her navel. 

For a moment, she thought he might move lower, and she tensed in anticipation.

But then, he kissed her belly above her navel. And higher still. And with each kiss, he rose until he loomed over her once more. 

His mouth found hers again, hot and demanding and she matched his fire with one of her own, winding her arms about his neck, tightening them to pull him flush against her. He offered no resistance, wrapping his arms about her to lift her from her feet. She caught his sigh in her mouth when she teasingly wrapped her legs about his waist and in that moment, he arched into her. She couldn’t hold back her sharp inhale as pleasure zinged through her from the contact and she shivered against him. 

He carefully turned, moving slowly toward her bed, and when he reached it, he bent, pressed her down, and arched once more, this time his breath hitching when she rocked up to meet him firmly. 

Thorin drew back, straightening up and in the soft light, Nina was certain she’d never seen a sight as utterly amazing as the half-naked dwarf standing before her. The light played softly about him, highlighting the swells of muscle across his arms, his shoulders, packed beneath the dark hair spread wide across his chest and down along his belly. He wasn't slim, as Men were, but instead far more compact and solid, as if he could pick up a fully loaded cart, horses and all, and not even break a sweat.

He was beautiful.

And she wanted to see more of him.

She sat up and without thinking, bent to him, pressing her lips against his lower stomach, just above the fastenings of his trousers. His hands came down onto her head, his fingers threading into her hair, tightening on her when she flicked her tongue against him, through that crisp hair, against the warm skin beneath it. 

Her fingers moved nimbly, working open the fastenings, curling about the waistband, shoving down to send the heavy fabric grazing down his thick thighs, over his equally thick calves, to puddle about his ankles. He carefully stepped out of them, kicking them behind him.

Nina gazed up at him, her heart hammering her ribs as she hooked her fingers in his warm linen small clothes. In a heartbeat, she would finally see this man in all his glory and was as anxious as she was terrified at what awaited her.

“What is it?” he murmured, tracing a forefinger along the curve of her cheek. “Have you changed your mind?”

Her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth, which had gone far too dry to allow her to speak, she shook her head, swallowed hard, then whispered, “Have you?”

“I’ve not, no.”

“Neither have I.”

A hint of that devilish smile returned and he reached to cover her hands with his. “Then allow me to help you.”

With that, he stripped off his small clothes and  she smiled as she drew back to drink in the sight of him. 

He was perfect. 

Absolutely perfect.

His big body held very little fat, honed to perfection by whatever it was dwarves did that kept him in such fine form. She let her eyes feast upon him, let her fingers move lightly through the dark hair swirled thickly across his chest, down over his belly, where it joined a far denser patch.

Her mouth went dry at the sight of him, thick and hard and proud and the pit of her belly fell away. He was the first naked man she’d ever seen and somehow, she felt there was not a man alive of any race who would ever top this one magnificent dwarf. 

Swallowing hard, Nina leaned in to press a hot kiss above his navel this time. That dark hair was so soft, tickling her nose and her lips. Thorin let out a low sigh as he pulled back, shifted, and bent to capture her lips once more. As the kiss deepened, he gently pushed her down onto her back and came up over her, his dark hair tumbling over his shoulders to surround them.

He caught one hand, pressing it down into the bed above her head, linking his fingers with hers to offer up a gentle squeeze as he carefully came flush against her and their lips met in a kiss that was more tender than fire, but no less passionate. 

With his free hand, Thorin let his fingertips dance along her skin, the caresses light and teasing, the sensations sweet and sensual as they fluttered through her. Her fingers threaded through his soft hair, twisted and tugged as those fingers swept lower, along her belly, down her thigh.

Into the darkness between them. 

Her legs parted of their own accord and her back bowed as he slid those fingers into the heat between her thighs, into the dark red curls damp with her arousal now.

He caught her gasp as he slid a thick, slow, teasing finger inside her and did something utterly magical. She couldn't hold back her cry as fiery pleasure swept through her, didn’t even try to hold it back. How could she, when it just felt so amazingly good?

Actually, good did not even come close to what Thorin made her feel. Nothing could compare to the white-hot pleasure scorching through her at that moment, the pleasure that made her blood sing and her body hum as he teased and tortured her in the most deliciously sensual way possible. She arched to meet him, his name a breathless whisper on her lips, every fiber in her body tensing with the need for release. She was so close… so very close…

“Thorin!” His name erupted in a cry that she immediately tried to quell by clapping a hand over her mouth. “I didn't mean to be so loud… I hope Dwalin doesn’t come in search of you. He might think we’re doing battled in here.”

“If he comes in search of me, I’ll tell him where to go,” he whispered back with a smile. Then, he did something magical with that finger that made her pulse all around him once more and as he eased it out, he shifted, and then—

He filled her slowly, allowed her to adjust to him, and she bit down on her bottom lip at the sensations running riot through her. She arched to meet him, to accept him completely, as he slid deep, he shivered against her. 

His first thrust was long and silken. His second, even more. His lips found hers, her rhythm found his, and they moved in a slow dance, the pleasure feeding from one to the other as he brought them both back to that summit. 

She tightened about him, throbbing as he arched hard and deep, and her fingernails sank into his shoulders, her hips arcing toward his. Nothing ever felt so wonderful. Nothing would ever feel so wonderful. It simply couldn’t. Each thrust brought forth and new and delectable sensation, a pleasure unlike any she’d ever felt—hot and sweet and wild and amazing. 

Knots of sweet bliss tightened hard inside her, aching with the renewed need for release. She teetered on the edge, her thighs pressed hard against his sides as she will him to send her over the edge. She’d go mad if he didn't shatter those knots and burned for him to do just that.

“Mesmel…” a low string of words she didn't understand bubbled to his lips as his thrusts came faster and harder now. The fingers linked with hers tightened about them. His climax bore down upon him, judging by the power of those thrusts, by the tension winding through him. 

He moaned low in his throat, his thrusts increasing in strength, in depth. The knots began to loosen now as the first sweet, fiery tingles took hold of her, swelling and multiplying as he growled her name and practically tore the linens from the mattress with his free hand, while nearly crushing hers with his other. “Nina!”

Her name exploded from his lips as he thrust hard and deep and came in a powerful shudder that triggered her own climax and left her clinging to him, her fingernails dragging hard across his back as her fingers tensed of their own accord. Her eyes squeezed shut at the explosion of her release, at the white-hot tingles burning through her. She wrapped herself around him, gave herself up to the fire that threatened to swallow her whole. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t hear or speak beyond a breathless cry. All she could do was let that wave wash over her, let it carry her out to sea, and so she did, her surrender complete.

Thorin sank against her, his breathing as rough and ragged as hers and tears stung her eyes as she wrapped her arms about his neck and his head came to rest against her breast. “Oh…” was all she could manage to breathe.

His own breath was a hot blast against her skin. “Oh, indeed…” he managed to whisper back, a hint of laughter woven into his words. 

He lifted his head to regard her with sleepy cobalt eyes, a sharp contrast to the long black hair that fell about them. He said nothing, but bent to capture her lips with his in a soft, lingering kiss that had every bit as much passion woven into it as their lovemaking had, and when he pulled back, he whispered, “Am I crushing you, kurduwê?”

“I’m fine,” she whispered back, reaching up to thread her fingers through his hair, tucking it back behind his right ear. She had no idea what kurduwê meant, but had no energy to ask. The tranquility that settled over them was unlike any she’d ever felt, a complement to the passion that had just raged between them, like the calm after a fierce storm.

Thorin shifted and eased from her, then stretched out alongside her, pulling her into his arms as he sank into the pillows. His breathing had return to normal, though his breath hitched when she curved up against him and laid her hand gently on his chest. She could feel his heart beat, which started out at a race, but slowed to a more relaxed pace and when she let her head come rest against him, she gave in to the peace and let her eyes close. 

The only sound was that of Thorin’s deep, even breathing and occasional snore. Nina lay alongside him, his arm about her shoulders, her head resting against him, but sleep refused to come. 

What had she done? 

What had they done? 

She had not meant for this to happen. It was a terrible idea to sleep with him because now her thoughts were muddier than ever. 

Carefully, she slipped from the bed, easing from beneath his arm, and held her breath as she waited for him to wake and demand to know what she was doing and why she had her sword out.

For she did just that. Crept over to where her sword stood against the wall and slid it from its sheath, then crept back to the bed. It would be over in a moment and she could slip off into the darkness. By the time Dwalin or anyone came looking for Thorin tomorrow, it would be too late and she would be in the wind.

It would be so easy.

Except…

He slept on, peacefully oblivious to her struggle. The silver streaks in his black hair glinted in the pale moonlight that filtered through the treetops, just as the sun did during the day. The long curls spread across the linens. His lips were softly slack. His chest rose and fell with each slow, deep breath.

Her gaze went lower, to the scars on his lower abdomen that she’d seen earlier, but couldn't bring herself to ask him about. She’d heard what happened at Ravenhill between him and Azog, although the pale orc was never called by name at the time. All Esgaroth survivors knew was that Thorin had been wounded in battle at the hands of a great pale orc. She only assumed now that orc was Azog. 

Her hands trembled as she brought the blade up and held it over him. The bounty Azog had offered for Thorin Oakenshield’s head had been a small fortune. Payable in gold. It would have been more than enough to keep her comfortable for a long time. 

This was her plan. This was what she set out to do, to avenge Lenna, and Rhys and Ena. 

One move was all it would take.

He was asleep. He’d never feel a thing.

She tried to make her hands move. Tried to make her arms listen.

She couldn't do it. 

Not any longer.

Shame, hot and steaming burned through her. Tears blurring her vision, she managed to return her sword to its sheath and crawled back into bed alongside him. Forgive me.

She had to tell him the truth. 

#Richard Armitage #AU #The Hobbit #Thorin Fic #Thorin Oakenshield #Is it hot in here? #Hobbit Fic #Romance #Hobbit Fanfic #Thorin x OC #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction

[enchantzz]

Fall in Ered Luin 🎃

Summary: Family Fluff - Thorin spends the day with his young nephews Fili and Kili. Thorin thinks that after a couple of successful times, he has babysitting under control, but does he, really?

Inspired by, but not specifically for @fellowshipofthefics fotfictember I just finally have vacation and my muse showed up 💜

For more stories, visit the masterlist

Sunrays were illuminating the damp, mossy grounds of the Ered Luin woods, which were covered in an array of pretty red, yellow and brown colored leaves. The air was filled with the scent of Fall. Thorin took a deep, soothing breath and closed his eyes, the sunrays warming his face. For a moment, Kili and Fili’s chatter and laughter softened and a smile played on his lips. He was content. No, he was happy. A welcome change to the feelings of sadness which usually haunted him.

He opened his eyes again and looked at the boys scouring the ground for acorns, twigs and leaves and their little treasures, aka rocks.

Thorin had offered to take Fili and Kili for a walk in the woods, while Dis, his beloved sister, would get supplies from the market for a nice dinner and a pumpkin pie. 

Usually, when they went into the woods, the boys, especially Kili, wanted to bring home all kinds of things, including animals, but Thorin could proudly say that so far, he had managed to get home without much more than pretty rocks and pebbles and the occasional stick. 

Today, however, he had told them that they could bring anything home with them, so that they could make a nice Fall project from what they would find. Both Fili and Kili had brought their tiny rucksacks to carry their precious collection back home.

“Put the bunny down, Kili,” Thorin bellowed, when he saw Kili trying to stuff the animal into his rucksack. 

“But Uncle! “ Kili protested, “You said we could take anything!” 

With a sigh, Thorin crouched down beside his nephew and petted the bunny, before taking it and releasing it. Kili’s chin wobbled and tears sprang to his eyes. 

Thorin gently stroked the little pebble’s head and explained, “You can take any leaves, acorns, flowers and things like that, Kili. You just can’t take home any animals, ok? They belong here, in the woods” He smiled at Kili, pulled out an acorn from his pocket, which he had picked up earlier and Kili’s eyes lit up. Sorrows all forgotten, he sprang up and ran towards his brother to show him the gift.

Fili was crouched down, curiously studying some pretty colored mushrooms. “Uncle Thorin!”, he yelled, “come look”. He proudly pointed at his find. “Aren’t they pretty!” he exclaimed and Thorin had to admit that the big red mushrooms with white spots were a pretty sight on the green, mossy forest bed. He just loved the Fall and its colors and scents. 

After having roamed around a while and the pebbles having collected their treasures, they walked back home, where Dis was already unpacking the goodies she got from the market.

“Can we help make the pie?” Fili asked, having climbed up on a chair to look at the supplies sprawled out on the kitchen table. 

“I’m not sure that’s …” Dis started, but Thorin stepped in and offered to make the pie with the boys, so that she could rest a bit. Dis hesitated for a moment, but having some time to herself sounded wonderful. 

“I got this and the boys,” Thorin reassured her and gently ushered her out of the kitchen. 

“All right then.” Dis smiled and left them to it.

“So boys, what do we need?” Thorin asked, rolling up his sleeves.

“Forks!” Kili shouted.

“No, dumbass,” Fili laughed. “We first need to make the pie before we can eat it. We need the recipe, Uncle Thorin,” he said and climbed off the chair to grab the book from a side table, which was filled with cookbooks and notebooks with secret recipes by Dis. He had helped his mother in the kitchen many times before and he knew exactly which book had the recipe for the pumpkin pie.

For the next hour or so, Thorin and the boys managed to put the ingredients together and the pie was finally in the oven. When Dis entered the kitchen, she found Thorin, Fili and Kili and the entire kitchen, covered in flour and remnants of ingredients. Thorin looked a little guilty and the boys, well, they just looked proud. She couldn’t help but giggle. “Need a hand, my dear brother?” she asked. 

Thorin sighed gratefully and a while later, the kitchen, as well as Thorin, Fili and Kili, were spotless again. 

“Why don’t you go rest a bit near the fire?” she told Thorin. 

“Can we have a story, please, Uncle Thorin?” the boys pleaded, tucking on his shirt.

“Alright, alright,” Thorin agreed and swooped the boys up into his arms and onto his shoulder. With the boys dangling from his broad shoulders, giggling and squealing, he retreated from the kitchen, leaving Dis with a smile on her lips. She loved the boys so much and her brother wasn’t too bad either. 

When Dis entered the living area a while later with a tray laden with hot chocolate and pumpkin pie, she found the boys lying on their tummies on the soft rug in front of the fire, glued to Thorin’s lips, who was telling them a scary story. They ooh-ed and aaah-ed and were completely engrossed in the story.  When they saw her with the goodies, however, they sprang up and took the pie and hot chocolate, only to sit down again and beg Thorin to continue the story.

When their bellies were full and the story finished, the boys were visibly tired and yawned. They curled up beside Uncle Thorin, who had a hard time keeping his eyes open himself. 

“I should change my profession to babysitter. I’m good at it.” he whispered, proudly. He smiled and gently pressed a kiss on Kili and Fili’s heads. 

“I guess you are,” Dis humored him, holding back comments about the state of the kitchen and the boys earlier. They love you, my dear brother, as do I. Days like these are my favorite, especially in the Fall and I’ll make sure they stay in my memory forever.

“Likewise , my dear sister,’ Thorin agreed. “Family time is the best.” and with those words, Thorin dozed off, holding his beloved nephews Fili and Kili close.

divider and header created by me

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#thorin oakenshield #uncle thorin #young fili #young kili #fan fic #the hobbit #dwarves #ered luin #fluff #middle earth #the line of durin #durin's folk #kili and fili #fan fiction #lord of the rings #the blue mountains #richard armitage #aidan turner #dean o'gorman #fall #autumn #pumpkin pie #fic #fotfictember #fotfic #fictember

[roadtogracelandx45]

someone tell me not to write something with the Oakensheild company in a modern-day setting like maybe a royal wedding (?) I have this idea running rampant in my head, I just don't know how many ideas are out there like that.

#ash writes #series: second chances #modren day au #thorin oakenshield fan fiction #the hobbit imagines #the hobbit fan fiction #lord of the rings fan fiction #lord of the rings imagines

[drascales]

new chapter of the king and i posted!! happy nye everyone!! 🥳

#bagginshield #bilbo baggins x thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x bilbo baggins #thilbo #thilbo fic #thilbo fanfic #bagginshield fic #ao3 bagginshield #bagginshield ao3 #bagginshield fanfic #bagginshield fan fiction

[spinel224]

I THINK IM GONNA DO A HOBBIT STORY NEXT!!! OR THE BEGINNING OF THE NELLY SERIES!!! IDK YET BUT SOMETHING WILL HAPPEN!!!

#I have so many thoughts #I feel like my brain has opened #do I write Thorin fanfics #or do I write my oc lore #only my adhd can tell #writing #fan fiction