#thorin x elf

[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

[theaskywalker]

Imagine being an Elven warrior aiding Thorin's company and Thranduil taking an interest in you

Masterlist

#the hobbit #an unexpected journey #desolation of smaug #battle of the five armies #thranduil #thranduil x reader #thranduil imagine #imagines #the hobbit imagines #thorin and company #tolkien elves #elf ranger #sindarin #elves #mirkwood #third age #middle earth

[epilogue-and-prologue]

Ship: Thorin x Elf!Reader

Trope: Childhood friends to enemies to lovers

Length: 3 376 words.

Warnings: Injuries, violence, guilt, guilt trip. Thorin being Thorin, Thranduil being Thranduil. Angst with a happy ending.

Note: @sorisooyaa I have something for you. I made a thing. I don't know what to make of it. But I have made a thing. Tags - if I forgot someone sorry and please tell me so I can not forget you next time: @heilith @sotwk @asgardianhobbit98 @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @fizzyxcustard

Vocabulary point: Nethig = Sister, little sister (diminutive) - Sindarin

You were here to help.

Of course, you had come to help.

The battle of Erebor would be known as the one where great elven and dwarven warriors perished. It would still be an understatement before any of the gods who listened. The Durin line barely survived by the skin of their teeth. If you had not been there to prevent the massacre... Thorin stopped the thought there, fearing what it would bring to mind.

You, whom he had known since he was a mere child, your parents and his - if not in agreement - cordial to one another. At the time, you knew Erebor's halls almost as well as he did, despite having grown in the shadows of the Greenwood. Often, you would meet, in secret, away from the prying eyes of both your families, running away, chasing dragons and seeking battles made out of air.

Now, he wished for these times to come back.

The dwarven king owed you his life and the life of his nephews.

That was why he was at your side, watching until you woke up. If you were to wake up.

Why was he waiting? He knew not. Or, he knew as he had known for years, yet stopped himself from hoping you would know too. He was not the young dwarf he once was, careless with his words and promises, careless in his affections. The sovereign he had become could not make foolish choices as Kili had the luxury of making. Nevertheless, the hope in him would not die, not until you gave him an answer to a question he would not dare ask.

You were there. You were there when his grandfather had refused your brother and your people what was owed to them. The look of confusion and disappointment on your face had not left his thoughts in all those years. Where the regret and sorrow as you followed your brother away from the dragon’s massacre felt like a heavy scar, this first betrayal was still bleeding through the walls of his mind more vivid than it had ever been.

For since the battle, you would not wake. And he would not sleep.

Maybe, this was his atonement for not having intervened sooner in the feud between the elves and his people. Maybe it was punishment for not having told you, as a child, what those feelings were, leaving you blindsided for the rest of your life.

His breath came to a halt when you stirred in your sleep. His surroundings were dark, only lightened by the moonlight shining in the room. Everything was so pale, the sheets, your gown, the light. He felt sick for a moment, in pain with each breath. Thorin was sitting in the most uncomfortable seat he had ever been in, his back hunched over, elbows on his knees, rubbing at his face to erase the deep sleep in his bones.

Thranduil opened the door. His eyes racked over the dwarf’s figure. The deep circles under his eyes and the hollow of his cheeks were clear indicators of his state. Your brother would have been blind not to see your injuries’ effect on Thorin.

Despite what people knew of him, the elven king was not as heartless as he seemed. He had sustained many injuries over the years, many terrifying experiences, and too many meaningless deaths. His heart was a closed sanctuary now, only opened for those he trusted. Even if he was not trusting Thorin, he trusted you. You, who had sought him out all those moons ago, trying to stop a raging war between your families. He had refused to listen and what it had cost him would never be counted accurately. The elf was old and weary of war. He wanted this to end, almost as much as you did. When you were playing in Erebor’s halls, he was with his guardian, resenting you for not having to attend all those boring meetings nor being with him when he had to learn all those awful words in Khuzdul. No. You had learned with a friend. The ultimate betrayal for him was that you were allowed to. No one saw the harm in the shenanigans you orchestrated. You were children, what was the harm? Only when you grew, beautiful as a newborn star, people started talking. He dismissed them all in public. Chastised you in private. “Behave as you were born”, those were his words. It was then that Thranduil had known. It was too late for you. You had fallen for him, having known him for so long. His stubbornness familiar to your equally stubborn mind, the wits of his tongue matching your own, your secret kisses shared in the mistrusted shadows of the woods or the corridors of the dwarven city. You would not let him go. But, soon, even Thorin dismissed you, in favour of dwarf women more suited to be by his side. Your heart was misplaced. Lost with someone who had no use for it.

After that, heartbroken and deep into your mind, you let yourself perish to the brink of death. Thranduil’s wife and son became your only solace, throwing yourself into the family life you yearned for, but could not have for yourself. With your brother, you would not talk of love for the prince. Only a “misplaced trust” as if it was enough to describe what it was you were left with.

That “misplaced trust” was all that was needed for Thranduil to care.

“Thorin Oakenshield.”

His face barely rose to meet the elven king’s eyes, falling back again in an impolite manner, now familiar between the two.

“It’s you.”

The elf had a hard time not snapping at him. But even he knew, the pain he was in. Your brother kissed your brow in slow motion. Nothing moved in the air, as he was adjusting your pillow, smoothing your sheets, sitting down next to you, eyes lost on your face. The room reeked of balms and healing herbs. Thorin ran a hand over his face once more, the stiff figure in front of him immobile and solemn. 

“I remember.”

The sound of his voice was barely above a whisper, yet it took up all the space in the room. He had that effect, your brother. You used to be so proud of him when you were little. Trying to get his affection every time you could. He wondered if you would still look at him that way.

“When you were young. Both running around in our legs, trying to get some attention, only to run away just as easily.”

Thranduil might have seen a soft smile appear on Thorin’s tear-stained cheeks if the darkness was not so thick. He did not see.

Instead, the elven king grabbed your hand, ever so cold, between his own seizing your fingers, growing accustomed to your unresponsiveness. All those hours spent in silence by your side had made him weary. The loss of his wife was an everlasting memory at the back of his mind, as he was praying to anyone who would listen for your recovery. Not again his mind would say. Not her his heart would scream. 

And maybe it worked somehow, after all those days, all those weeks, because then you opened your eyes.

The light was faint. You could make out parts of the walls and ceilings. It was home. A breath of relief left you, making your chest ache. You winced, eyelids shut close, brows furrowed. Your hand was captured in someone else’s, warm, alive. You were alive. Every part of your body was in pain, sharp, akin to the edge of a fine sword twisting your guts and bones. Soon, you could hear a voice. Voices, you realized. You turned towards the tall figure holding your hand. It seemed to be calling your name.

“Nethig?”

Thranduil. His face came to a focus, his forehead meeting yours as you were holding his hand to your chest for dear life. Tears streamed down your face, not being able to stop them in any way.

On the other side of your bed, Thorin had not moved. His mouth agape, he was waiting for you to see him, to look at him. The minutes and murmurs exchanged with your brother were lasting, echoing in his mind. The chuckle escaping your lips was a balm to his undone heart. King, he was, yet he would have been on his knees and given it all up in a heartbeat if it would keep you from crying as you were.

You could not see past your brother and you did not want to. How stupid could you have been to throw yourself and your soldiers into this death trap? For what? An old flame nothing could light again? Thorin’s affections for you were long past, a mere child’s play you took to heart when he did not. The young and everlasting hope in your chest would not die. In the end, it almost had you killed. Deliberately, Thranduil pulled himself away, his protective gaze still on you. His eyes met someone else’s over your shoulder before coming back to your face. He helped you sit up, one movement at a time.

Upon seeing who it was, you started crying again. Not of joy, nor pain. In relief. How your heart could be a trickster. The moment was clear in your mind, despite the anxiety creeping up your spine. The moment you thought he was going to die in front of your eyes. It was without a second thought, you had pierced the chest of the orc before Fili or Kili could be harmed. For Thorin, your heart had lept in your throat as the menace of losing him became more and more obvious, the more the fight went on. The prince you remembered, the one you had loved, was brave beyond any elven or dwarven standards. He still was. You had hesitated, the ever-nagging thought of him being upset upon being defended by you. Until the last minute. When you had jumped from your vantage point, it had been all a blur, the only thing remaining the clear sky above you, the sun on your skin. The edge of the sword had pierced through armour and flesh, close to your heart. As if hurting it more was a feat anyone could accomplish. In a last stroke of luck, elven warriors had flooded the place, while you were still staring at the sky becoming darker and darker with each passing moment. You could hear yells and angry cries, strong arms cradling your head, and a soft, profound, grave voice begging you to stay alive. In your haze, you had thought… you had thought it belonged to him.

The sobs had stopped. Thorin stepped closer to you, his right hand outstretched. His palm touched your cheek sloppily, checking if he was not dreaming. Yet, you were swiftly pulling him away, careful not to touch him for too long. You exchanged a few words with Thranduil, and he stepped away, one final hard stare at the dwarf before leaving the room.

“What are you doing here?”

It was more to yourself than to him that you asked this question, in a hoarse voice you did not recognize. His arm lingered in the air, in your vicinity. How much you wanted to bury yourself in his chest and never let him go again. The harm he had done to you, on the other hand, was too heavy on your heart to let go of.

He swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat. The rejection was bitter-sweet. He knew his faults all too well. Against his first instinct, he got up to his feet, grimacing under the weight of his flesh wounds. Seeing you in pain was so much worse than that.

“I…”

Around you, the night lights were shivering, dawn simmering under the cover of the clouds. It was now or never.

“I have something for you.”

A snort escaped you and you coughed. Startled, he approached, but you stopped him with a gesture of your hand.

“If it’s not an apology, I do not want it Thorin.”

There. Plain as day. The look on his face, you never dared to hope he’d show for you. His gaze softened as you mouthed the name you had not spoken of in years. His name. Delightful to hear you say it, if only it had been in different circumstances. Alas, it was not. He had to make the best of this. Even if it killed him. Because a life without you was only worth death, the unmerciful kind, slow and feverish, agonising. He could not bear it anymore.

“I hoped you would agree to listen first and see what to do afterwards. Yet, you stay faithful to yourself.”

His voice resonated in the room even as he claimed the words one after the other, softly, trying not to scare you away. He smiled. One of those precious smiles you came to banish from your mind, year after year, as it plagued your waking hours almost as much as your dreams. You turned your eyes away from him, a heat blooming in your cheeks. Although you could not see his face, you heard him, coming closer to you, sitting near your calves, hands on his knees. He was loud as dwarves are. Sometimes, you dreamt about that noise. Dreamt of him coming home to you. You shook your head a little, the world blurry for a moment before your eyes.

“Could you… would you, at least, look at me?”

His voice was pained, smooth around the edges of his sorrow. He did not recognize that voice as his own. It was the voice of heartbreak. A sweet relief came over him when you finally looked at him.

It was short-lived. Your face, he remembered. Ever-lasting as the poets said. Engraved in his heart, beating erratically with every minute spent in your company. The bruises, the sharp cut going from your cheekbone to your chin. The edge and the indifference. All of that he did not know and wanted to rub off. His hand twitched in his lap, fingers extending into nothingness.

“I am incredibly happy you are alive.”

His words were met with pure harshness, almost hostility. Sorrow in your eyes, a headache growing behind your eyelids.

Thorin licked his lips.

“I came here to thank you. Personally.”

A snicker stopped him. You sniffled again, ungracefully wiping your nose in your sleeve, wincing at the effort it took you. His palm felt warm on your knee. You were not one to bet, but if you had to, you would have assured a tattoo of his palm was to appear on your skin at how hot it felt. How right. Still, unnerved, you did not move.

“I came here because… When we thought… When I thought I lost you, I came to realize how much of an imbecile I had been.”

You bowed your head. Biting your lips, your hair hiding the desperation in you. You could not bear it. Could not bear hearing him say the words without meaning them. He had done so before, what was stopping him from doing it again? It would destroy you.

“Stop. Just stop!”

Tears formed at the corners of your eyes. You did not try to stop them from falling. His hand reached you before you could stop it, meeting your cheek, and wiping away your tears. Stilling your heart in its ribcage, prisoner of his touch, again. His beautiful eyes were worried, brows furrowed, lips pinched together.

“Why are you torturing me so? Telling me what I want to hear? After all those years? Am I just a toy to you?”

You bit your lips harder, drawing blood. Without saying a word, he smoothed the skin there, smearing blood on his fingertips, unbothered merely grateful he could do it at all.

“Never. Amralimê, never.”

He frowned. Only then did you notice how close he was, the word in his mouth settling near your heart, his forehead a breath away from yours. Blue eyes boring into yours, lips parted, his cheek covered by a white and black beard. He had aged, as we all do. How could he still make your heart beat so loud and your stomach flutter so even after all these years? It was uncanny. Impossible. You wanted to take his hands off of your face, gripping his wrists in a vice grip.

He held on, gritting through the pain shooting in his arms, your face cradled in his warmth.

“I have been wrong all this time. I thought I was better off without you. Hoping you would find happiness without this love we did not see coming. But, no one can stop the sun from rising and I could not stop myself from loving you.”

A whimper escaped you when he pulled away, reaching into his coat for a small thing, wrapped in grey cloth, worn with time and travel. Carefully, he grasped your hand putting the itchy material in your palm.

“I should have given you this, at the time. I am giving it to you now. I hope you keep it.”

His words were ringing in your ears as you pulled the package open. Inside was a trinket you recognized immediately. You smiled, half expecting it to be a fever dream.

“A courting bead.”

Clenching your hand around it, you felt the walls around your heart beginning to give. Taking your hand in his, one more time, he pried the cage your fingers made one after the other, relinquishing in the feeling of your fingertips.

“Not exactly.” Giddy with excitement, he leaned close to you, as if in confidence. “It is an engagement bead. I figured we were past the courting steps at this point.

- Are you serious?”

The question had escaped your lips in a bewildered whisper, not quite wanting to believe him. Thorin became self-conscious again, nodding, bashful. He was shy. Thorin Oakenshield had gone soft. The world was going to collapse.

“Why now?

- After this close call with death, I don’t think I have anything more to lose but you.

- What of…?

- The others? I do not care. Not anymore. If you’ll have me, I’ll be there. Whenever you need me. As who you want me to be.”

Without thinking, your hand reached out to his cheek, bringing him impossibly closer. In a familiar gesture, your lips met his. 

Thorin had become tender with the years. Surprised and inhaling sharply, his fingers gripped your gown at the waist, in a desperate attempt at getting you flush against him, your warmth comforting his melting heart through your skin.

The pain shot through you interrupting you both.

“My apologies, I’ll be more careful from now on.”

You smiled against his lips, pushing yourself a little bit further into his embrace.

“I doubt that.”

He arched an eyebrow.

“You were rough once. Harsh even. Don’t stop now on my account…”

You bit your lip and saw his pupils darken, a thin line of blue at the edge of it all, holding you down under this lustful stare.

The kiss he gave you next was nothing short of hungry, wild and powerful. You felt the fragility of your body in his hands, even more than you had during the battle. His palms spread a heated river down your waist, straight between your legs. Yet, it would have to wait. Only for a night or two, you thought. If you would restrain yourself. As if reading your thoughts - he had always been good at that - he replied.

“We have all the time in the world for this, now. If you’ll have me.”

He was worried. Still. You could not blame him, after all these years you had spent avoiding him only to find out he felt the same for you as you did for him.

“Yes. We do.”

Your tone left no doubt. Affirmed and self-assured, you knew this would be the beginning of something new. This was a new chapter in a lifetime of stories, you could not wait to find more about.

#thorin x reader #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x reader #sorisooyaa #the hobbit fanfic #thorin oakenshield x fem!reader #thorin x fem!reader #lotr fanfic #elf!reader #thorin x elf!reader

[astarothstarion]

“An arrow can only be shot by pulling it backward. When life is dragging you back with difficulties, it means it's going to launch you into something great. So just focus, and keep aiming.”

#lord of the rings #the hobbit #oc #lord of the rings oc #imagine #handir #handir x astaroth #handir galahon #the rings of power #elrond #thranduil #legolas x reader #thorin x bilbo #thorin oakenshield #legolas #elf #teacher

[snazzynacho]

Snapdragon & Co. Masterlist

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

My (mainly lotr/hobbit) account is @whorin-oakenshield yet I’m posting this on here bc this is where I’ve already posted my fan fics to lol

Read on ao3 here

Read on wattpad here

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Dragon Sickness, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Found family, Mage, Magic, Psychic abilities, Just kiss you idiots, Fae, Fairies, Fae magic, Thorin got that Royal Rizz™, Fili and Kili are sillies, Multiple Endings.

Synopsis: A lonely half-elf-half-fairy and her long-lost sister, whose speciality is magic, join forces with Thorin Oakenshield and Company. To them they are doing a noble thing but little do they know what darkness lies ahead. And what of their past they have to face.

Or, in which,

She had a heart of gold and he was addicted.

chapters under the cut:

Chapters:

1

2

More coming soon!

#the hobbit fan fiction #thorin fanfiction #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin oakenshield #Bilbo Baggins #the hobbit #fili #kili #tolkien #fan fiction #oc #fairy #mage #fae #faerie #elvish #elf #Legolas #Tauriel #snapdragon & Co. snazzynacho #masterlist #snazzynacho the hobbit

[blankdblank]

Divided

Separated outside the Goblin Tunnels and badly injured from taking Azog over the side of that cliff all you had to go off of was what you had been told of the lands ahead of you. Found and healed by the Lorien Elves in a matter of days atop a rather eager elk you rode off East towards the Lonely Mountain. Wary of being detained inside the vast Greater Greenwood some dared to call Mirkwood you went around. The long way, perhaps too far along as you found yourself awakening after a long moonless night on the edges of a vast set of hot springs to low deep voices.

Dwarves by the dozens stripped of their regal attire named themselves by your catch of names the Company had spoken of, well really Thorin had grumbled of in recounting which Dwarf Lords refused to aid in marching on Erebor. And right atop a flat smooth boulder all of them had left their regal adornments, crowns, circlets, necklaces and rings to mark their statuses piled on alongside their golden seal stampers to mark their postage and contracts legally to their titles. To yourself you smirked at a plan forming and softly urged your elk to stay in place after readying it to be ridden again. Right over to the boulder you bear crawled to creep up and like a raccoon take each piece with dainty fingers you put quietly into a sack you had to once hold some of the lembas you had been given you’d added to the other sack to make room and not crush your only secure food source.

And when the last piece was added you lowered down again as if you were never there. Back to the elk you crawled and then hurried to climb atop its back with hold of a rock you had pulled out of the earth on the way back. Hard and loud you threw it once barely to the edge of being visible as your silent elk sprang away instantly stirring a notion of alarm through the Dwarves soon bled to anger at the notice of their jewels gone.

Days you managed to stay two hours at least ahead of the amassing army ravens and hawks had been sent to warn for from Southern Dwarf Kingdoms even alarming the Men of Rohan who sent a legion of Riders to join along in chasing the unthinkable thief.

Right through the final night with the peak in sight your elk gladly kept the pace in this game of evasion as a storm had gained you a spare few hours of rest as the Dwarves were diverted around a flooding river it bounded and trudged through easily.

Halfway across the plain to the peak you halted its path at the sound of a loud roar that only meant the Dragon had been woken. Over the front of the saddle your leg swung so you could jump off and dig out a chunk of black metal used for dragon weaponry, the only metal able to pierce the scales of the beast.

The gates were thrown wide open and with the chunk in hand off a chain around your neck you eased a large Dwarf Ring of Power you had found after falling off the cliff the white orc wore like a trophy and slid it on your finger using the chain to help fill the gap between metal and skin. The main power of the thing was a pathway to the only way to drive the Dwarves to possible ruin, the ability to multiply anything they mined and you had pulled this metal right from the earth yourself so it counted at least to you on the vague interpretation of the rule. And just like you hoped a firm grip of the metal had it glowing and fire out both ends to form a giant spear the unknowing beast ran itself through unable to stop in time at the sudden jolt at his breast. Down into the earth he collapsed as you let go of the metal and scrambled to get a foot on the elk���s stirrup and urge it to spring away, as it planned on its own to do. Up above your view of the jostling saddle you drug yourself to be seated upon again was a huddle of bodies that came to stare at the now downed dragon and the nameless too blurry figure atop a steed now turning widely their way.

It didn’t take long for your name to be shouted in both relief and shock, but in the light of the fiery gold lit open doorway they could see the Elven garb and source of your survival. “Hey,” you said dropping off the saddle again to be drawn into eager hugs while the elk came to curiously inspect the hall to see if food was in sight.

“Lothlorien,” Thorin said breathlessly in awe of your survival of nightmarish disaster beyond his worst imaginings. “How did you down the beast?”

And you showed him the ring dangling from the chain wrapped around your palm and wrist loosely. “Azog had this. Multiplies what you mine, found black metal, made a giant spear.” And he let out a proud chuckle then looked to the sack you offered him. “We’re gonna have some angry Company in a few hours.”

His brow rose and you took hold of the reigns of the elk to go and find the farming peaks to let it rest and eat there Balin had once mentioned for their goat and boar steeds. “Y/n?! Where did you get these?!” He demanded to your back after he’d drawn out a familiar seal for the King of Orcarni he kept hold of to show you and the others in your turn to glance back at him still walking away.

“You know there’s a giant hot spring near Orcarni?”

“Yes..” he growled.

“Well there were some familiar names caught and good news, got you your armies. I’m gonna tuck them into the farming peak and then find the dungeon to lock myself in.”

“Y/n!! You-!!” At a loss for words at the sound of a distant Dwarf horn alerting of armed forces ready to advance after the last roar and thunderous crash he lowered his voice and told the others, “Seal the gates, we tell them we captured the thief and we will work out something less severe as a punishment later after a term of stay in our dungeons. Balin, mind her, before she marches another army on our gates please.” The exasperated glance he gave your back had his cousin chuckle and oblige, hurrying after you to congratulate you on the miraculous return and plan to help kill the beast. “And Bilbo, get searching for that stone.” Bilbo nodded and hurried to do that to the motion of the others to force the gates shut and locked again so they could wait atop the overlook in wait for the thousands of Dwarves to arrive and demand answers.

.

A second horn of a fouler tone however found you called for and amidst the ranks of Dwarves and Men standing above Dain now on his back from a warg bite with a chunk of his armor bent into the flesh of his thigh. Oin worked to stem the bleeding to get him able to be moved while you used a stack of dead orc and wargs to funnel the oncoming orc into a more manageable number for full view of the King who had mind to stab you himself when he’d first seen you. All the same on the front against the orc and goblin forces your bright eyed glowing petite thief of a self stood on their side and he would not cut you down unjustly mid battle and could wait for retribution later and now lay at your mercy.

Over the wall of orc a goblin scrambled and collapsed taking hold of your bloody dirt stained braid tugging you backwards in its fall. Belly up for the double handed grip of an orc who smugly grinned at being able to plunge his blade into your exposed chest.

Far off in the distance the sight of an Eldar Elf born and glowing with the light of the Two Trees even in that area plunged with darkness through grime and filth could not be missed by any of the Silvan forces who lined the edge of the forest in case of advance on their borders. All called to arms just same as the Dwarves at the roar of the fallen beast.

The King himself however was the one to break the hold to fire and let loose three arrows to clear the goblin who had hold of the lone Elf and two orc advancing upon them. Lothlorien garb explained little of why they were there aside from possibly having been amongst the Rohirrim and got stuck here after travel from some important message being sent to King Thengel. Then alone at sight of your spring to your feet ready for the next orc to advance was reason of the call to charge. Straight through the darker forces his thousands of soldiers sprung to make clean work of the orc and goblins Dwarves had split into smaller numbers as you had done.

The King himself off his elk dropped helping Dain and Oin up to have the steed charge towards the healing tents made up inside the guarded peak. Blades in hand to assist in this swarm of hundreds the Men of Rohan burst to aid with after clearing their own hundreds, an odd left over pool you had gotten edged to funnel off alone to just keep at bay until others could come and help as Dain had tried while his men behind him got thwarted by a band of wargs they were using to hold off as a wall more orcs trying to come at the back of their Longbeard kin who sprung from Erebor itself.

Hard into his back the Elf King turned his head, having just used both blades to kill five orc nearest him to scowl in focus at your smaller self pinned to his taller frame. Blades locked with a mace of a crooked leaning goblin that had found the obscure nail adorned weapon after losing its own. Easily he swung his arm to sever the head of the goblin and had to restrain his amused smirk at the huff you gave when the force and weight against your blades dropped to the collapse of its body and weapon.

A hand to his side with a hard shove an hour later again had him look to the smaller body trying to stagger away from a collapsing tower in Dale that would have fallen on top of him. Wide eyed in the moments of clarity before heavy stone obscured his view he saw a panicked expression on your face at the loss of crumbling ground to stand upon that had you fall mid squeak as words seemed to fail you. Loudly it fell apart into a giant heap and through the dust he clambered to get over the rubble to find you just ten feet down plopping off your side onto your back.

Just a halo of the body of the King seen through the cloud of dust in view and you squeaked, “Ow,” forcing a breath of relief from his lungs that you were not likely to have been badly injured. Down into the crevice you had found he hopped with other Elves to come into view watching his ease to your side. “Have you landed on anything?”

“Just my ribs it seems.” You frailly replied and out he reached to test a touch of your legs to prop those up in a first step so he could scoop you up.

“Better your ribs than a blade.” He replied.

“Nope, got that too,” you whined in a shift of your hand to draw attention to the hilt of your blade that caught in your outer coat there fraying the side of your gifted Elven embroidered pants at the thigh.

“Clever,” he said collecting the blade he tucked into the sash around his waist so he could ease his arms underneath you. “Now,” he said on his knees having drawn you off the ground and into his chest, “Out of this rubble, Healers await.”

“How do I know you?” You squeaked next when he’d leapt up out of the crevice, to be walked in a heavy number of guards to escort you to a safer place to be seen to.

“My name is unimportant at the moment.” He replied, “Conserve your energy, damage to the ribs will take time to mend properly. Once you are safely placed into a guest quarters in Greater Greenwood I shall write to Lord Celeborn of your safety.”

“No, but my elk is in Erebor.”

“My soldiers will bring your steed as well.” He said and looked down as you narrowed your eyes at him and tilted your head.

“No, I know you from somewhere.”

“I am certain it will come to you in time.” He replied and looked forward again.

Right to an Elven tent amongst the Dwarf stations he brought you to first ensure no serious injuries were unseen before you were transported to the forest.

Though from the moment he’d passed beneath the cover of the tent his instant panic for your slip into unconsciousness was soon overtaken by argument of the Company who refused to allow you to be taken to the forest as you were a member of their Company and had slain Smaug, the direct source of a small tail spike that was found buried in your clothing to be just harmful enough to let out a steady stream of blood from your lower leg to fill your boot.

.

Deeply you inhaled, waking inside a lavish apartment in the Royal Floors of the mountain under watch of an Elleth who seemed pleased you had awoken.

Sheepishly in her slip out of the room you eased off the bed to limp to the robe left on the chair along the wall to cover the silk nightgown you had on with more painted silk you tied around your waist. Free hand on your throbbing ribs as you did this. Silence hinting you were alone had you sneak out of the bedroom and find the front door, that when opened revealed a line of armed Dwarf guards and Dain inside an armchair positioned directly there, complete with footrest his injured led rested upon so he could be here when you awoke.

“You, dragon slayer.” Deep and grumbling he let out a reluctant breath and said, “Had you not saved my life and I owe you a life debt, I would have you thrown from my kin’s lands. For now, I thank you for fealty in battle,” his finger raised to point at you, “But you touch another relic of claim to rule of my kin again and I will see to it you have no hands left to steal so much as a crumb to nibble upon.”

For a moment your lips parted and then closed causing his brow to rise, “Have you lost your voice in battle, Lass?”

“Mr Dwarf,” you squeaked out causing his brow to lift a bit higher, “Honestly I got lost trying to meet Thorin after our separation. And I happened upon you all, all the Dwarf Lords Thorin had named who refused to help him reclaim his home.” At that he scoffed and you said, “Thorin needed help, Azog was alive still until I beheaded him in the fall from a cliff, and I had no clue who would be upon him next when I found him. Turned out to be a dragon. I would say I am sorry for my actions however you must admit it was a clever plot. Classic, honestly, always worked on Finwe.”

Together his brows furrowed through a huff and he growled out, “Aye, it was. Naught but my beard adornments and a wee glowing thing races off with my rites to my crown.”

“I’m certain in a few years it will be a humerous leg to the tale of how Erebor was reclaimed gold over many ales.” Softly you groaned to the plant of your hand on the frame of the door and he gestured a hand to go with a Khuzdul order, and one of the guards came to help take hold of your slouching self.

“Back to bed now, before the Elf King hears of your tired self collapsing. Went and had to save his life too, now the pointy eared princeling is bartering with Thorin for his gems and release of your sticky fingered self to his halls for a stay. No telling what you pinched from him.”

.

“You are not in bed,” The Elf King spoke aloud having caught you in a late night sneak down to check on your elk. Whose face you were stroking while it nibbled on the carrots you brought down here to the stables where you’d left them that now housed more steeds from each army.

“The last Elf King I met was Gil-Galad. You do not look like Gil-Galad.”

“I am pleased,” he joked, “We did not see eye to eye on many things.”

“I would not doubt that very much, he was taller than you, but I know you.” You said and he looked at you still grinning post chuckle at your height comment.

“We crossed paths in Valinor, when I was very young. And very short, shorter than you I would dare to say.”

“Now that must have been a very long time ago then.” You said and he chuckled again.

“Barely a moment to me.” He said and you looked his face over, “I shall assist you, the last time we spoke, prior to my collecting you from that crevice, you were collecting me from a tangled net within which I fell in an act of thievery inside your orchard.”

“And they call me the thief.” You teased and he chuckled again.

“I had never tasted such a pear in all of my life.”

“As the one you stole,” you added and he nodded amused.

“As the one I stole.”

“I would hope not, I created them myself.”

He nodded and said hopefully, “We have much room in my kingdom should the two of us make terms for me to acquire a tree for within our borders.”

“I would have you know I never abandon my orchards.”

“I had hoped as much,” he hummed hopefully causing you to draw in a breath at his lingering gaze locked upon your eyes.

@jesevans, @theincaprincess, @lilith15000, @devilishminx328

#Thorin #thorin's company #durins #bilbo #Dain ironfoot #Dwarves #Dwarf Ring of Power #Lothlorien #Thranduil #Thranduil x reader #elf reader #the hobbit #lotr

[esculentevil]

(Thorinduil + Dis) Brother-wife

((We need more of Dis and Duil getting along. The Dis & Duil Sisterhood will be STRONG!!!))

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆💎AO3/Pillowfort🌲☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆

“So... you are the elf that stole my brother’s heart.”

Thranduil tenses subtly as he turns a quarter of the way required to face Dis, daughter of Thrain and sister to Thorin Oakenshield. The dwarf dame faces him fully, arms crossed and countenance frowning. She’s judging--perhaps not HIM but certainly the situation that has her asking him such a ridiculous question--and Thranduil isn’t entirely certain he has the strength to stand up to it.

So, he doesn’t.

He turns away, instead, as he apparently always does with this entire family, and sips his Dorwinion wine, “The Arkenstone, I assure you, Lady Dis, is still all his.” The fine jewels decorating his silver chalice are rough and biting against his hold as though tiny daggers lie beneath his fingers, ravenous for his Elda blood.

He ignores it.

Grips it tighter, even, either as self-punishment or distraction or a reminder: alone but alive; as he always is. He blinks back the tears this thought brings, breathing passed the desire to sob as he remembers clutching his father’s body--broken and bleeding and bereft--to himself just as he remembers feeling empty as he held Legolas’ form--tiny and trembling and too-young-to-understand-things--to himself as Mallosnell cried for him while telling him his wife has died just as he remembers the coldness that became his entire life after turning away from Thorin--young and yearning and yelling--on that one faithful day, and swallows down the urge to scream, shout, scorch himself into oblivion because he deserves nothing less for all his failings and he KNOWS it.

“My brother’s heart, Elfking, not the mountain’s.”

Thranduil frowns, turning a quarter again to face Dis, this time, as she’s standing strong and stubborn beside him, now. He eyes her profile, for she doesn’t turn towards him at all, with a slight furrow of his brow before quietly admitting to her: “I... know not of what you speak...”

She looks at him, finally, incredulously; before the snarl falls away and she sees what he means: “... Thorin hasn’t told you, has he?”

“Told me what?” the Elvenking asks, voice soft (for he realizes, suddenly, that although she does not seem to like him much: Dis is a wealth of information and actually willing to SHARE it--unlike anyone else that knows a thing about Thorin) and head canted gently to the side. His hair falls with the tilt and he allows himself this small pleasure because he does so prefer his REAL crown of thorns to the simulated version he wears as a jeweled silver circlet during times of war.

“That you have it, idiot!”

Thranduil almost drops his chalice at the dwarf dame’s shout, ears now ringing something fierce as they tend to when dwarrows get too loud (literally always). He refuses to so much as hiss, however, and simply stares down at her. “A?”

Dis rolls her eyes and dares to actually smack his arm, uncaring of his status or her clear lack of decorum (strangely; stranger still: he does not really mind...), “Thorin’s heart, brother-wife; you never gave it back--or, perhaps more accurate: he never took it back.”

The Elfking stares for a moment, shocked at what he thinks she just said to him; then, he gapes as it registers what she just CALLED him: “B-Brother-wife???”

#thranduil #dis #thorinduil #thorin/thranduil #thorin x thranduil #the hobbit #dorwinion wine #mywriting #headcanon #confession #elf/dwarf sisterhood #Dis doesn't hate Thranduil at all; she's just tired of his and Thorin's stupidity #Dis accepted Thorin's feelings for the Elfking long before he even realized them #Dis also accepted Thranduil as her brother-wife just because he's a sassy shit #Dis&DuilSisters

[sorisooyaa]

Thorin x Reader - Childhood friends to enemies to lovers

@absentmindeduniverse​ LOOK I HAD VERYYYY CLICHE IDEA FOR THIS ONE AND TBH IDK IF I LIKE IT OR NOT 

But.....reader being related to Thranduil, possibly his sister

#Thorin x Reader #thorin #Thorin Oakenshield #king thorin #thorin oakenshield x reader #the hobbit thorin #cliche idea #i swear I come with the most cliche possible ideas onlyI #ALSO A CLICHE TITLE #I NEED HELP #the hobbit #elf reader #soriyaa graphics #shalinizhara graphics

[delicatenightfury]

Star of the Mountain Chapter 27

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

Fili watched his uncle as Thorin slowly approached him. Kili was following him and the rest of the company stepped back to give the family space. Fili could see the difference in his uncle’s face. He still looked tired, but there was life in his eyes now. Fili smiled.

“It’s good to see you, uncle,” he said, his voice soft.

“You as well, Fili.” Thorin pressed his forehead to Fili’s, much like he had done with Kili moments earlier. “I am glad to see you both safe.”

Kili nodded, but Fili had another thought at the front of his mind.

“Thorin, what about Oreliell?” he asked.

His eyes softened further and Fili could see his worry.

“Have you seen them?”

“Not for some time. It got hard to keep track of them.”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Kili said. “They’re both capable of taking care of themselves.”

“Indeed they are,” Thorin agreed. “But I believe we would all feel better when we see them again.”

Thorin signaled to the company, who began moving quickly. Bombur climbed the gate once more with a horn in hand while the rest readied a large bell, pulling it as far back as possible. When they were ready, Thorin signaled Bombur again. The horn echoed loudly; Fili was sure that it could be heard from Dale. With another signal, the dwarves released the bell.

The bell swung forward, knocking into the stone wall they had built and destroying it.

Thorin led the charge, sword drawn and shield at the ready. Fili and Kili were quick to follow him, the company close behind them. The Iron Hills dwarves that had gathered in front of Erebor parted to allow the company through.

“To the king!” Dain shouted to his men.

The dwarves cheered and joined the charge.

“Du bekâr!” Thorin shouted, sword raised.

In moments, they clashed with the orcs. Fili swung his sword, taking down whatever orcs he could reach. He was determined to press on and follow his uncle through the battle.

The sea of orcs seemed to be never ending. Fili would take out one orc, only to be greeted by another one when he turned. He was glad to have his brother by his side. They knew to take care of each other. It was something they had promised their mother before joining Thorin on the quest. Even during the heat of the battle, they were watching each other’s backs.

“Lads!” Dwalin called.

He motioned for them to join him and Balin, who had managed to wrangle up several goats despite the heat of the battle. Balin’s smile was visible beneath his beard.

“Azog is commanding his army from Ravenhill,” he said. They all knew that Thorin meant to kill Azog. “You’ll need these to get there.”

Fili and Kili nodded their thanks to Balin, giving Dwalin a moment to say his farewell to Balin. Then, Dwalin mounted his own goat. He kicked it into action, the princes following close behind. They approached Thorin, who had found his own goat and was talking with Dain.

“Lead on!” Dwalin shouted to Thorin.

Thorin nodded and urged his own goat forward.

Together, they tore through the front line of a new wave of oncoming orcs. It was hard to see through them all, but the four cleared enough of a path that they were able to break all the way through. Kili gave a cheer, raising his sword. Thorin, still in the lead, felled any orc in his path. Fili, Kili, and Dwalin cleaned up behind him, killing the ones that he missed.

Thorin led the way up Ravenhill, their goats scaling the cliffside almost effortlessly. They quickly reached the ruins of Ravenhill. With only quick looks exchanged, they broke apart, taking different routes to the top. Fili swung his sword whenever he got the chance, killing orcs left and right.

When he reached the top, he saw that both Thorin and Dwalin had dismounted and were fighting once again. Fili leapt from his goat, slicing the leg off an orc before killing another. Kili was beside him in moments. Soon, the orcs were dead. Fili looked around quickly to make sure of that fact, breathing a small sigh of relief.

Thorin stepped up to the edge of the stone platform and looked across the frozen water. Fili followed his gaze. The watchtower appeared abandoned through the mist. It sent a chill of unease through Fili.

“Where is he? It looks empty,” Kili said. “I think Azog has fled!”

“I don’t think so.” The dwarves quickly turned around at the new voice, their eyes widening. “Azog is far too smart for that.”

“Oreliell!” Kili said.

He dashed forward and wrapped his arms around her. Oreliell stumbled ever so slightly, but smiled. Fili and Dwalin also approached her.

“It’s good to see you, lass,” Dwalin said.

“We weren’t sure what had happened to you,” Fili said. “We lost sight of you.”

“I am fine,” she said. “I am glad to see that you four are all right as well.”

Fili quickly remembered his uncle. He glanced back at Thorin. His eyes were wide and trained on Oreliell. He seemed stunned to see her.

“Oreliell,” he breathed.

She looked up, eyes immediately landing on him. 

“Thorin.” Her voice sounded almost softer than his.

Fili stepped back from her, pulling Kili to do the same. Dwalin seemed to have disappeared. Thorin walked toward her. His steps were slow, as if it were an effort. Fili supposed it was. The two had not been in the best place over the last several days.

Thorin stopped only a few steps from Oreliell. His eyes would not leave her. Thorin lifted his hand, his fingertips touching her golden braid. Fili glanced away from the intimate moment. He sent a silent prayer to Mahal; he wanted his uncle and future aunt to find the happiness they both deserved. He also hoped that someday he would also find his One like his brother and uncle had.

“You’re here?” Thorin asked.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I could not leave you to fight Azog on your own.”

Thorin’s hand fell away from her.

“Despite-”

“Thorin. I am here. That is what matters. We can talk about things once Azog is dead and this threat has ended.”

Thorin nodded, a look of determination washing over him again. He looked out over the water for a moment before looking at Fili and Kili.

“Fili, take your brother,” he said. “Scout out the towers. Keep low and out of sight. If you see something, report back. Do not engage. Do you understand?”

“I will go with them,” Oreliell said.

They looked at her.

“You’re sure?”

She nodded.

“Another set of eyes will not hurt.”

Dwalin suddenly appeared again, ax gripped tightly in his hand. 

“We have company,” he said. “Goblin mercenaries. No more than a hundred.”

They turned to see that goblins were indeed coming over the walls. Fili adjusted his sword in his hand.

“We’ll take care of them. Go! Go!”

Oreliell nodded to the brothers.

“Let’s go,” she said.

#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

[michellesrandomwriting]

I got bored and decided to write something about Thorin and my character. Most likely slow burn enemies to lovers, not sure how good it is. My first language isn't English so if you spot any mistakes please let me know. Also i would appreciate some feedback. Thank you!:) Also this is my first time posting here and I have no idea what I'm doing:D

As the last bits of sunlight fall behind the tips of the mountains and the wind grows colder, the darkness begins to spread across the tall green grass and the old withered trees. I can feel that my horse has grown nervous, perhaps as much as I have. The change of our surroundings isn't playing in our favor. We are lost enough as it is, the darkness will only make it worse.

The tight feeling in my chest grows stronger as I imagine the angry faces that wait for me at the end of my journey. I'm not even supposed to be there, now I'm gonna arrive unexpectedly and into the middle of the meeting. They shall skin me alive for this, the dwarfs will already be skeptical about an elf joining their company, but an elf that proves her responsibility by the fact that she can't even arrive on time? I can already feel their judgmental eyes fall on me the moment I step in.

If I step it, If i ever find that damn place. Gandalf said it was easy to find, and that he had marked the door early this week.

I curse to myself under my breath and look around the little hobbit village. Have I finally managed to find the right one? Most of the windows are only filled with darkness, and the only source of light around the village is the dimmed mood light shining from above.

I gesture my horse to speed up as I notice a small light at one of the doors, perhaps that could be the sign that Gandalf has spoken of.

The moment I ride up the house I'm sure that this is Gandalf's doing, there is a glowing sign written on the middle of the door.

I jump off my horse and tie up his leash to the fence. I make sure that my cloak and the rest of my clothing is looking properly as I walk through the garden and to the door. Taking a deep breath I knock three times onto the dark wooden door, my anxiety rising every time my knuckles hit the rough texture.

The voices of many go quiet for a moment before I can hear Gandalf excusing himself and his heavy steps getting closer. The door swings open and I look up to face the wizard, his slightly excited expression is almost completely hidden by his gray, long beard.

“It is about time my dear Arwyn” He says with a light smile but I can sense a slight annoyance in his words.

“You have claimed this place was easy to find, I got lost many times before I found it.” I say back with a lighthearted tone but still try to defend myself before his judgment.

“I drew a mark.” He replies and points at it with his hand, giving me a look that almost resembles a disappointed parent.

“It is tiny.” I say and measure it next to my finger. “Almost not even the size of my own finger Gandalf.” My voice switches to more of a joking tone by the end of my sentence, trying desperately to light up the mood so my body can finally relax.

“I'm sorry Miss, I'll create a beacon next time.” His reply is calming this time, his smile grows bigger and his voice is filled with almost as much lightheartedness as mine. He hugs me after the end of his sentence, I can see him struggling in the small hobbit home with such low ceilings.

It almost makes me laugh to see him struggle and not drop his big pointy hat as it hits the wooden ceiling again and again. I'm glad he is here also, if I were to meet with the company alone there would be nobody to take my side and prove how useful I could be. With Gandalf here I felt a sense of welcome and friendship in the atmosphere instead of anxiety and pure judgment. He moves aside to allow me to step in. Luckily I'm pretty short for an elf so I fit better than him.

I look around the hall as I take off my cloak and put it next to the others.

“Everyone else has already arrived.” He adds after he notices me examining the rest of the cloaks and weapons that lie all over the place.

“How late am I?” I ask after putting my sword next to the wall and turning to face him, again trying not to laugh as I see him arch his back to fit into the small room.

“Not as much as the last dwarf that has arrived, but If I were to compare you to the first, very late.” He says with a light smile.

“Somebody also got lost?” The question sounds way happier than I have felt in the moment but I do have to admit It makes me more relieved knowing that I wasn't alone.

“Thorin, he got lost twice.” He says with more of a serious tone, most likely to let me know that the fact that somebody else got lost doesn't make my late arrival excusable.

“That the king?” Asking that was stupid since I already knew the answer, Galdalf told me about all the members of his company but not as much information as he did about him. Thorin Oakenshield, the son of Thráin II, on a quest with his company consisting of thirteen other dwarfs and possibly one hobbit if he were to accept. That's why they went there, to have their final meeting before the journey to the Bag end. They have met here to try and convince a young hobbit to join. Not at all aware of the fact that Gandalf has offered me a place among them.

That was the thought that has scared me the most, they have no idea that I'm here. That I'm going to join them. I wonder if they will even accept me to join.

“Yes, he is the king. Let's go and meet them Arwyn. They must be curious about who has arrived.”

Yes, they definitely must be. I nod and walk behind Gandalf into a small hobbit kitchen. The entire company is sitting around the table, talling, drinking beer and fishing the rest of their food. Thorin, I'm assuming, sits in the front of the table. Dead quiet. Unlike the others he has a serious expression on, he isn't telling tales or laughing among his brothers. He simply sits there and eats his food, as the rest has fun.

Gandalf walks in first and after he completely cleans my view I can perfectly observe the dwarfs inside. They look friendly enough, to each other that is.

“Who has arrived, Gandalf? We are not expecting anyone else to join us.” Thorin asks Gandalf when he sits back next to him and in that exact moment all the dwarfs look into my direction.

It is obvious to me at the first look to figure out who Bilbo Baggins is, the hobbit that is to join in. Not because the appearance difference between their kinds is not. Mainly because I can see how uncomfortable he is in the situation, unlike the rest of them. His expression is not serious like thorins or happy like the rest of the dwarfs. He looks anxious, about as much as I am. Only I cannot let them see it.

#thorin oakenshield #thorin x oc #enemies to lovers #slow burn #romance #the hobbit #the hobbit thorin #rivals to lovers #elf #hobbits #dwarf

[intoxicated-chan]

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 #𝟐

© Intoxicated-Chan 2023, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission. I only have one other platform and that’s Wattpad (same name).

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Between Your Thighs (Miguel O’Hara x GN!Reader)

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I Need You to Stay (Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader)

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Give Me Reasons We Should Be Complete (Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader)

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Mortal Kombat

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On Vit Dans Cette Love Story (Legolas x F!Reader)

You’re Gonna Wish You Never Had Met Me (Kili Durin x F!Elf!Reader) Ending 1 | Ending 2 , Coming soon!!

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The Walking Dead

Daryl Dixon Blurbs #1 #2 #3 #4 #5

Watercolor Eyes (S2 Daryl Dixon x F!Reader)

Baby, You’re No Good For Me (S1-2 Daryl Dixon x F!Walsh!Reader) Part 2 | Part 3

When You Come See Me (S2-3 Daryl Dixon x F!Grimes!Reader)

Payment-In-Kind (Shane Walsh x F!Dixon!Reader)

‘Til I Know You’re Mine (Daryl Dixon x F!Reader)

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I Will Love You ‘Til the End of Time (Daryl Dixon x F!Reader)

Daryl Dixon w/ Lady Gaga Songs (Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader)

Closer (Daryl Dixon x F!Reader)

#masterlist

[crownedghostprince]

That’s My Emotional Support Wife!

Legolas x Female!Accident Prone!Reader

Fandom: The Hobbit

Legolas and (Y/N) had courted for about a decade before finally deciding to marry.  (Y/N) was the daughter of Lord Elrond, just slightly younger than Arwen, and after marriage she moved to Mirkwood to live with Legolas and her father-in-law the King, Thranduil.  Legolas didn’t mind how accident prone (Y/N) was, sometimes it was even sort of cute.  And now there are 13 dwarves in the cells of Mirkwood having to be dealt with whilst the Elves continue their parties, patrols and usual antics that the dwarves were unaware of until that day.

Requests: Closed. Requested: no.

Warning(s): None.

Note: This is sort of silly, so if you enjoy a fun fanfiction, this is the one to read! (Y/C) - stands for (Your Choice) and (Your Colour).

Word Count: 2,021

[Third Person Perspective]

(I couldn’t find any attached link to this picture from Pinterest, but it was under the account name “The Facegirl” when I found it. They seem cool from what I checked out.)

The dwarves were not happy to be locked up in the cells of Mirkwood under King Thranduil’s rule.  The elves would just pass by here and there as if it was an ordinary path to take.  These cells weren’t in dungeons or anything like you might expect, for the bars of the cells were incredibly tough and strong.  Therefore, there was no need to put the cells in such an inconvenient spot and instead it was closer to the main area where most Wood Elves just wandered through.  (This was also best as the Woodland Realm almost never had prisoners to jail).

So, the dwarves were trapped in their cells, waiting for Thorin to join them (hopefully with good news).  They’d tried breaking out of the cell in whatever way they could think.  From slamming against the bars with their shoulders, to kicking them with their legs and shaking them with their hands.  But still the cell bars held strong.  Bofur was the first to actually observe the elves, rather than sneer and ignore them like the others.  The others didn’t wish to make eye-contact or even look in their general direction.

Bofur watched, as many elves walked through speaking elvish and looking graceful.  Some elves were so graceful when they walked it looked almost as if they were floating across the floor, not even touching the ground.  He struggled to tell who was male and who was female, but the sounds of their voices definitely helped - even if he couldn’t understand their language.

Eventually he saw a beautiful elf with (Y/C) hair and (Y/C) eyes.  His?  Her? Dress was a beautiful mixture of pink and purple that fell past their ankles and hid their feet.  Thus, they appeared to be floating as they walked.  Bofur smiled, appreciating how beautiful the elves could truly be.  How graceful and--and she walked into a wall.  This got the dwarves quietly chuckling from they cells.

Even Dwalin was hiding his snicker.  They would laugh more openly, but they were in foul moods and didn’t want to anger the elves when the elves had an advantage against them.  The elf maiden didn’t seem to mind - hearing their chuckles with her good hearing - and laughed with them.  A shadow crossed the floor and Legolas landed with perfection as he came to check on his wife.  The dwarves’ faces immediately molded into scowls at the sight of the rude elf that found them and cast them into their cells.

They continued to watch as Legolas checked his wife’s face for cuts and smiled when she was cleared to be okay.  He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and took her hand, walking her to the staircase to continue her on her path.  She was not halfway up the staircase when she tripped and fell.  Luckily, Legolas was used to this and simply caught her and gracefully carried her the rest of the way.  He set her back down on the marble floors, kissed the back of her hand and returned to his position up high, watching over the area.  She curtsied and although the dwarves could not hear - or understand it - she thanked him.  “Ni ‘lassui en, Legolas.”

An hour later, Thorin joined his company in the cells.  He simply explained how he had not taken any deal with King Thranduil and that all the Elves could...well...let’s not translate that now.  The dwarves were upset by this news, feeling like they’d be trapped forever.  But Thorin knew there was a Bilbo Baggins somewhere out there.  And he would help free them.  He was sure of it.  Bilbo was not so sure.  Every time he thought he had a clear path to descend to the cells, suddenly a bunch of elves walked by.  He was thankful the ring he found made him invisible.

Some were going to patrol outside, some were laughing and telling jokes in Elvish, some were carrying wine and food, or decorations and others were reading a lovely looking book as they walked by.  The thing is this: Bilbo didn’t have many openings to sneak past and not bump into someone.  So instead he decided to follow them for a brief moment and saw them setting up a sort of party.  With decorations and a clear view of the sky where Bilbo could see the tinges of orange and pink beginning to appear in the clouds.

There were tables lined with bottles of wine and kegs of wine and cups for the wine.  There were a few tables of food, but mostly it was wine.  With lots of seats, some elves already perched on the staircases and some elves sitting up high on ledges already getting drunk.  Many were singing and some were possibly telling poems?  Or stories?  Bilbo wasn’t quite sure but it was a merry gathering that was forming.

‘Well,’  Bilbo decided to himself, ‘Time to find those dwarves.’  And so he walked back the way he came, sneaking down corridors of marble and past beautiful pillars with beautiful, intricate carvings running down them.  Soon his eyes laid upon, a (Y/C) haired elf with a beautiful dress and stunning eyes.  She was reading a book as she walked absentmindedly.  He decided to follow her and see where he ended up.

They walked for almost half an hour when he heard the familiar, grumpy dwarves’ voices as they hushedly whispered to each other in Khuzdul.  ‘Finally,’ Bilbo thought excitedly, ‘I’ve found them!’  He waited behind the she-elf, watching where she was headed.  By the time he realized she was about to walk down a flight of stairs and possibly injure herself, a blond elf was by her side with an arm around her waist.  Legolas was so accustomed to stopping his wife from falling down stairs it was almost a daily thing to catch her and gently lead her away.

“A, Legolas.”  She smiled to her lover with such a soft gaze he felt sure to melt under it.  Although the dwarves did not know it, ‘A’ was Elvish for ‘Hi’.  However, they simply thought it was an exclamation like the English ‘Ah’ when one realizes they almost walked off the top step of a flight of stairs.

However, (Y/N) was so accident prone she was no longer surprised when someone stopped her from walking into a wall, or a door, or out a window and this case was no different.  Bruises and cuts from falling down stairs was common for our silly she-elf lady.  Legolas sighed fondly.  “Hiril vuin, please do fall down the stairs before a most wonderful celebration.”  ‘Hiril vuin’ was Elvish for ‘my lady’ and was a sweet and simple way for Legolas to remain caring, but serious, in front of the dwarvish prisoners.

Bofur spoke up with a chuckle from the cells below, “Is falling down the stairs a common occurrence?  I would love to see such a performance everyday!”  He joked.  The dwarves laughed in agreement except for Oin who could barely hear what Bofur said.

“What did he say?”  He asked Gloin who was in the cell beside him.  His question went unanswered as Gloin continued to loudly laugh.  Legolas glared down at the cells whilst (Y/N) simply laughed with the dwarves.  She had a wonderful sense of humour - she has two older and fun twin brothers after all - and she was also used to these jokes which made it even more fun in her opinion!

Once the laughter had settled down a bit (Y/N) chuckled out, “I knew I should’ve been the King’s jester!”  and the howls of laughter sprung back up again.  Their thunderous voices bounced of the walls and echoed through the building.  Even Legolas and Bilbo chuckled at (Y/N)’s joke.  As the dwarves continued to laugh, crack jokes and sometimes just rest in silence, Legolas decided to simply ignore them and inquire about his wife’s current book.  “Oh!  It’s a book of Elvish poems and short love stories.  I fell in love with it after reading the first couple of love poems.  It even has some poems specifically to be read just before you sleep.  Oh!  I’ll find one of my favourites for you!”

She began to carefully flip back through the previously read pages, keeping her bookmark on her current page as she did so.  Bilbo took this chance to quietly sneak past the couple and down the stairs to the cells in order to look for the keys.  Legolas smiled adoringly as his wife quietly muttered the poem titles until she found the one she was looking for.  Although the Elvish is truly beautiful and wonderful to read, here’s the English equivalent instead:

“ Your Divine Beauty,

The stars crown your head, As you rest peacefully in bed, And the moon bathes you in its’ light, Kissing you with all its’ might.

Such beauty even the sun bows down, So its’ colours may reflect onto your white gown. Pink, orange and gold, Dare not touch or enfold.

For they will not dare, To hide your beauty nor ensnare.”

Although Bilbo and the dwarves had no clue what she said as it was in Elvish, still they folded to the sound of her melodic voice when she read aloud her favourite poem.  Legolas gently kissed her forehead when she was finished and sighed wistfully.  “I adore that poem so much now.”  He smiled down as their foreheads rested together.

“I’m glad you liked it, dear.”  She grinned, returning his kiss with a giggle.  Only a moment had passed when they heard approaching footsteps.  Bilbo snuck back to a corner in case they should pass him and the dwarves returned to their original scowls as two Elven guards came to a stop in front of the couple.  The woman curtsied to the guards and they returned with a bow.

“We’re sorry to interrupt, but the celebrations are beginning.”  They explained, carefully watching Legolas’ eyes as he sighed.

“Very well.  Then I shall not keep you any longer, my dear.  Please, go enjoy yourself and do not wait up for me.  I will join you shortly after I have finished my patrol over the cells.”  Legolas kissed his wife’s hand with a tenderness and care you only hear and see in romance books.

“Thank-you, darling.  I shall join them, but I shall still wait for you.”  She grinned with a cheeky glint to her eyes.

“Why do I bother to tell you to not wait, you don’t listen anyway.”  He chuckled sweetly.  “Very well.  Now go, before my father is disappointed with both of us being absent.”

“Ah, yes, I should hurry then.  Take care, darling, and try not to roughen up the dwarves too much.”  She kissed him once more before leaving with the guards to the celebrations.  Legolas sighed wistfully once more and did not move until she was safe out of sight with the guards.  He trusted them to catch her if she should fall.

But even if she is injured, they have healers that are always pre-prepared for her anyway.  He turned back and before he could ascend back to his post, the dwarves spoke up.

“So she and you are...well...together, huh?”

“She’s my emotional support wife.”  Legolas grinned mischievously, knowing fully well she could still hear them with her excellent Elvish hearing.  A second later his ears heard her voice in the distance,

“I heard that!”  And he smiled hearing her voice once more.

“You’ll do well to not disrespect her whilst you’re here.”  Legolas stared the dwarves down as he finally returned to his post, just out of their line of sight above them.  The dwarves rolled their eyes and proceeded to taunt him with funny comments anyway.  All were harmless, but they were fishing for a reaction from Legolas so they did their best to make it sound almost like insults.  He didn’t care enough to hear though, he was ignoring them and mentally reciting his wife’s favourite poem so when she was having a bad sick day he’d know it off by heart.

#the hobbit #thorin's company #x reader #legolas x reader #legolas #middle earth #fanfiction #accident prone reader

[multific]

Gold-Sick

Thorin Oakenshield x Reader

Summary: Thorin's sickness was getting worse by the day.

As you stood there and looked at yourself in your gold gown, you felt utterly lost.

Dwalin did warn you about this sickness that overtook Thorin. You knew, yet this was worse than you could have ever imagined.

It all started when you entered the mountain.

Thorin's confession and promise of eternal love came as a surprise, yet you accepted his love. You felt the same way about him for a long while now.

Ever since you first saw him in that blacksmith workshop.

And now, he called you his Queen as he sat upon his throne, calling out for you to join him while the others looked for the stone.

He requested for you to change as he had placed a dress in your room.

The door behind you opened and in came Bilbo. With tears in your eyes, you looked at him.

"You have it." you whispered and he nodded once. "Give it to Gandalf, or the Elf King, I do not care but this... man, is not my Thorin." you said as he nodded once more and you exited your room heading to the throne room.

You dried your tears before Thorin could see and offered him a smile.

"My Queen! My gorgeous Queen, dripping in jewels and gold as you deserve." he said as his hand moved to your face and his other to your waist.

You held back your tears and leaned in to kiss him.

He twirled you around, but he wasn't admiring you, no, he was looking at the gold.

You begged for this to end soon.

---

"Thorin! We must help them!" all of the dwarves begged but Thorin didn't listen.

"Are you against me as well?" he looked at you and you looked at the floor. "TRAITOR!" he yelled which made you jump.

You finally had enough.

"You are not the dwarf I fell in love with! Not the King I followed here! Not the man I want!" you said before you turned and got ready for battle with tears running down your cheeks.

On your way out you did see Dwalin enter the room, you only hoped he would put some sense into Thorin.

---

You were out of breath as you ran.

The fight was over and you have won.

But where was Thorin and Bilbo? Kili and Fili?

You asked Gandalf but he just smiled and as you turned, there they all were. Thorin, injured yet alive. Kili was in bad shape and so was Fili but they will survive.

You rushed over to Thorin, hugging him close as he groaned but soon stopped with his complaint.

You pulled back and looked at him.

"Now, this is the dwarf I fell in love with." he smiled as you kissed him.

"Marry me." he said when you pulled back to catch some air.

"I thought you would never ask." you said with a laugh as everyone around you cheered and celebrated.

It was so much better to get ready for a wedding than a funeral.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname224646

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

#thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield imagines #thorin oakenshield imagine #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin oakenshield x you #thorin x you #thorin imagine #thorin x reader #the hobbit thorin #the hobbit #the hobbit imagines #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit trilogy #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit fanfiction #lord of the rings x reader #lord #lord of the rings imagine #lord of the rings imagines #lord of the rings

[epilogue-and-prologue]

Affections

Fandom: The Hobbit Ship/Pairing: Thranduil x F!Reader Trope: Unrequited love that’s requited after all Note: No idea. I probably made heavy mistakes in the mythology. Don't hesitate to point them out if need be. Warnings: Miscommunication, father-son relationship, rejection Word count: 6 282 Tag-list: @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstareditd @fizzyxcustard @sotwk

“Legolas!”

Seeing your friend after so many years made you so happy, your eyes were watering even before you could feel his arm embracing you.

“My dear friend. I am so glad you could finally come home.”

Decades earlier, the young prince and you had learned and grown together under the watchful eye of the Mirkwood. Small ones were a rarity, but two at the same time almost never happened. Once an adult, it became clear you needed to leave the palace’s grounds and see the world for yourself. The only kin you had left was your aunt Ede, and she encouraged you to go, despite being torn upon your departure.

Now, finally, you were coming back to your place of birth, filled with new memories and new experiences. During the war, you were following the refugees, learning medicine and healing amongst them as you had for the past decade. Fortunately, this knowledge became of vital importance after the conflict and here you were, talking animatedly with the Crowned Prince, sharing adventures and stories.

“I am sure your father must not have taken kindly to that friendship.”

Legolas laughed, his long hair moving with the winds around.

“No, he did not. Gimli is a close friend of mine and I would not allow him to be treated with the disrespect my father is so easily using. — Still. Of all the people present in the Company, the only one you find to be a friend is the son of Gloin? The very last member of Thorin Oakenshield’s entourage? — I did not choose, you know. And…”

Before he could finish his sentence, you stopped your steps. The place had grown so much since you last were there. The tallest trees reached peaks you could not see anymore, cutting into the sky slices of clouds and sunshine. The hall around you felt heavier. More grounded in stone than in wood. Ravages of the Great War had reached even here, it seemed. From the stairs in front of you, a tall she-elf, with her dark auburn hair and her proud stature, was staring right. Your feet guided you to her in a hurry. Her embrace felt like a warm bath, smelling of lavender and a quiet temperance you needed in that moment. Ede was one of a kind. She was the one who had taught you the basics to healing and the plants, as well as the stars. Your mother had been a valiant soldier of the King’s army. She perished on the front of the battle of the Five Armies. Ede became a support and an ally in the pain of her loss. It made you two grow closer, especially when her brother - your father - left for the Shores after his wife died. He did not see the future in as much brightness as he used to and did not want to become a hindrance for you. It was with the certainty of meeting him again that you let him go.

“Aunt Ede, I have missed you so much. It is a genuine pleasure to see you. — As it is for me, child.”

She pushed a strand of hair back, watching you intently with those profound dark eyes of hers. Once Legolas reached you, he saluted the Royal Healer before leaving the both of you, a soft smile on his face. You spent the rest of the day walking around and rediscovering the grounds with your aunt. They had planted bigger gardens next to the Healers Quarters. A gardener had been appointed specifically for them, allowing time and space for the now withering Ede. She was growing tired more easily and, despite her appearances, was becoming more depressed by the day. Her work was never done in this place, being the sole reference for every other healer in the woods and sometimes outside of the country and into others. Everyday that passed made her long for her home in Rivendell. Her husband had gone back the year before and the separation was taking another toll on her, time only making it worse. At the first signs of dusk, she brought you to your room, next to her own. It contained a simple bed and a desk as well as two tall windows, looking out on the garden below. The bag you carried when you arrived finally found a space to rest too next to the neat sheets.

“Child, I bid you goodnight. We shall talk more in the morning. -Yes, my aunt. I wish you pleasant dreams and a restful sleep.”

She kissed your forehead, smiled and closed the door behind her. Soon you crumbled into the heavenly made bed, but could not find sleep. After all, the real reason of why you left had been kept secret from everyone. Including yourself. You were becoming more agitated with every minute passing before meeting the King. You had not left on particularly good terms with him, a show of restraint on your part, inclining you to keep quiet and move on. Nevertheless, the memory kept replaying in your mind, as you felt yourself drift into a soundless sleep.

In autumn, the leaves fell, and Legolas was in the trees. Well, one tree. The tallest at the time, a great oak with leaves reaching into the sky as if trying to touch it. The Prince loved to climbed its branches, storm or high wind was of no matter to him, wanting to admire the sky more than anything. Also, it was the only place his father would not think of searching him in. Lately he had been adamant in having his son with him at all times, protected and locked in, close to him where he could not be lost. Or killed. That oak was where you found him.

“My Prince, I am afraid your kingly father will be upset with both of us if you do not come down this instant.”

Silence. Thranduil had asked you personally to go in search of his son. Out of the two of you, you were in appearances the more mature one. Even now young adults, you could not help yourselves and hid from each of your parents whenever you could, spending most of your times observing the wood’s life. The fleeting murmurs of the trees settled, leaving a melody of singing birds behind. Soon, he came down, looking sheepish.

“I am sorry. I did not mean to cause my father’s anger towards you. — No need to apologise. I understand why you would want to hide. Yet, you can not do so forever Legolas.”

He nodded, following you back inside. His father had grown tensed and tired after his wife’s death. Her warmth was the heart of the forest and once she was gone, every winter became colder and colder. The King only grew more weary of the outsiders, leaving no choice but to close the borders to most of them. You knew him in happier times, grew with his son and should have grown attached to the Prince. Yet, in your heart, Thranduil had the only space you could allow to be filled. It had pained you to acknowledge it, more so when Legolas’ mother passed. A voice inside wanted you to reach out and to pull the pain away from him. From them both, but you could not. As well as Thranduil’s borders closed, his mind and soul did too. For the longest time, he retreated so far inside that no one could reach in. Not even his son. Your arm looped around Legolas’ shoulders, trying to comfort him however you could.

“Do not fret. He was scared to death you broke your neck. Once he sees you intact maybe he’ll calm down”

It did seem to make him chuckle at least, as he leaned into you. You felt ashamed feeling this way towards a brother’s kin. It was a torment you would not wish on anyone not even your greatest enemy. It became a soft agony and then a feeling deeply buried. Sometimes, you hoped you would find yourself looking at Legolas the same way you looked at Thranduil. It never happened and you grieved the proper relationship that would never be. It had been talked about, making a match between the two of you. The Prince could have been inclined. Your own affections lead you to say no, to the disarray of your parents and Legolas’ poor heart. He never resented you for it but you did. You resented yourself so much it blinded the young spirit you had into biding yourself to this place, when nothing new could be learned, nothing new could be seen. No new love would grow. Ede had mentioned leaving before. The idea was taking roots but Thranduil’s actions were the final push into the adventure of your life.

Upon arriving in the King’s room, you caught onto three things. The first, he was still worried sick, apparently repeatedly pacing the room with no signs of stopping soon. The second was that once he saw his son, he embraced him, where you had seen him lash out in anger at others. The third, you were sure that when his eyes landed on you, he would burn you right where you stood. He took his time, checking if his son was alright if he was injured, who’s idea was it to go out and hide like that. Once his nerves settled, he dismissed Legolas, closely watched over by two guards. As the Prince left the room, you shared a soft smile, already knowing what was bound to happen. Once he was gone, the air left the room and the reprieve you had ended right there.

“How dare you?”

Thranduil’s voice was carrying across the room. He was standing as far away as possible from you, as if trying to avoid catching a disease you had.

If only that was the reason, he would sleep better nights. Not watching the stars peak and go down every morning, growing mad with every time he saw you. He knew it was, in truth, for another set of reasons entirely. His body was betraying him. His heart ached in the most delicious ways, retreating from its hiding place. He would have thought it dead if it weren’t for you. You with your sharp mind and loud laughter. You who had a spirit all of your own. You who were the oldest friend and confident his son had. How could he feel that way for you, he never wanted to know. It would have meant accepting he nourished feelings for you. He watched you grow and become a mighty warrior and a spirited young elf. Once well in adulthood though, that was only then that he noticed you. Before that you were a shadow compared to his wife’s memory. He saw and perceived all too well your longing looks and tight smile for him only to see. It touched his otherwise dead heart. The pain of knowing that it could never be and the blossoming feelings he carried for you were growing inside of him intertwined. Now, your eyes haunted him at night, hot and feverish, lingering in his mind. He longed to be touched by you, when he knew he should not have. The remorse was ever present. What would she think of all of this? She would want him happy, cared for and content. He wanted it too. He would not yield, not crumble under your stare. He had to protect his people from disappointment in their ruler. He could not afford jeopardising his rule so. Even for your beautiful mind and gorgeous soul.

“How dare you compel my son into acting so? You and your ideas! Of course you were the one to give him such ideas about freedom and… — Your Majesty, with all due respect, I gave him what he asked of me, nothing else.”

He was livid. What he asked of you? A jealousy he had forgotten the name of, formed in his stomach, giving his wrath a fuel to keep on burning. What did he ask of you? What did you ask of him?

“How could you? You are full of yourself. Arrogant. Reckless. Do you not know the influence you have over him? How dangerous that could be?”

He could see you, bowing your head, biting your tongue. He drove the knife deeper still, wanting you to react, to do something. Anything was better than you not reacting at all. Especially to him. The cruel intentions in him a reflection of his frustrated state at seeing you and not touching you.

“Answer me!”

The scream rang through your body. Teeth clenched, you had been biting your tongue this entire time, not wanting to make this situation worse. Although, he was on the right path for it to get worse.

“Why would I? You seem to have all the answers already! About your son, about me!” You kept on going, even as he stepped closer and closer to you, domineering and hovering over you. “He needs to experience life! If you can not give him that, at least give this to his mother!” This touched a nerve, his face darkening with fury. Where he knew you were right, he wanted to make you quiet. Those truths either he was not ready to hear. “She would certainly not want her only son to go to the Shores having never touched life with his own hands. Never fighting for what he believes in, never seeing the sun high in the sky or never feeling the touch of a lover, because of you. Sire, you cannot keep him in a gilded cage like this. Either you let him go or he will escape.”

He was invading your private space now. You could not look up. You would not look up.

“How would you know how to care for a child who is not your own? — I know him better than you think.”

Better than you lingered in the air, unsaid, deeply felt. His long fingers gripped your jaw pulling your eyes along them, then his deep burgundy robe before meeting his darkened pupils. He narrowed his eyes, the very tip of his fingers were burning with the yearning of touching you. He could not give in. He would not give in.

“Do you now?”

His lips ghosted over the shell of your ear, in what was supposed to be a show of power. Both of you knew it was not, still thinking the other to not know about it. His teeth bit lightly into your earlobe before you could stop him. Frozen in place, you did nothing when his lips drew goosebumps down your throat. In a swift movement, he sucked a deep bruise into your skin. You cried out as he held your face in place, merciless in his grip. It was not a cry of displeasure and that surprised him. As your hand gripped the one holding your face, he searched your expression looking for a momentary lapse in judgement. Maybe something to stop him. Something to tell him this was wrong. He found nothing of the sort. He slid his fingers from your jaw to your cheeks, finding comfort into the plump and supple skin of your face, before all but tearing himself apart by kissing you. You kissed him in return, feverish and wanting. Too soon, he stopped. Disgusted with himself, he turned around, hurting like never before. His weakness was showing, all too visible to his own eyes.

“Go. Now. And never come back. — Sire…”

Your voice was but a whisper, the fluttering of your heart where his skin had met yours turning your whole body into a beating drum.

“Leave! Leave and never show your face again!”

Tears threatened to fall from your eyes. You did not let them and left the room, closing the door as hard as you could behind you. Once in your room, everything went blank. Almost as if on drugs, mechanically, you gathered your things, warned your aunt of your departure. She did not question it. She knew of your yearning to leave and did not stop you either. Only accompanied you to the main road, wishing you farewell and a heartfelt goodbye. Legolas received a delayed goodbye, by letter. He was angry with you, but understood. You never told him about what happened and it said a lot about his forgiving nature that he did not hold that hurt against you today. She figured Thranduil might have something to do with it when the next day he asked about you. He seemed hurt beyond measure when she told him you were gone, almost surely never to return.

The first rays of the sun sneaked through the glass windows, shades and hues of red and yellows nesting into the corners of the room. After a change of clothes and a frugal breakfast, you accompanied Ede to the gardens along with her pupils, witnessing the classes she gave to elves from all backgrounds and all horizons. Midday approached and she took you aside after leaving her students.

“Child, we need to talk. — Yes, aunt Ede. What do we need to talk about?”

Her next words startled you as much as they turned your world upside down.

“I will be direct, my child. I need you to replace me, here, at the palace. I need you to become the next Royal Healer.”

*

Ede and you had carried that conversation long into the night. She was adamant that it was you who was supposed to carry on in her place. On the other hand you were less than convinced. Especially considering that she always described the task as a burden - more so in the last years. You would not negotiate with her and complained, exposed, revealed what you feared and felt unable to do. She would hear none of it. Her sole purpose here was to give her place to you, of that she was certain. Deep within her a longing of her home had taken root and she had wanted to leave for a long time. If only for her sake, you had no other choice but to do what she asked. For your own, you would have to face Thranduil when that day would come. Maybe, it was for the best. You could not stay in this place of ignorance and avoidance. A quick walk through the garden and you found yourself, face to face with Legolas, all smiles and a hint of mischief in his eyes you were worried about.

“Good morning to you. -And good morning to you, my friend.”

His smile did not falter as he proposed to accompany you through the palace, talking animatedly as usual, until finally you reached the healers quarters.

“I do have a question though. — Yes, what is it?”

As he opened his mouth to say something, he closed it again, his eyes drawn to something - or rather someone - in the room behind you. The door had been left ajar. Distinctively you could see Thranduil’s back and when he stepped aside, your aunt Ede too. Her brows were furrowing and her lips were pinched in a thin line. That could not be any good. The King on the other hand, was towering over her, rolling his eyes and pinching his nose every time she spoke as you would do with a child. That, that was intolerable. Legolas tried to stop you, his hand slipping from your arm only to be left bewildered and strangely, amused, when you stepped inside, slamming the door open.

“Your Majesty. Aunt Ede.”

You bowed your head as he observed you from head to toe. Since that night, it was the first time he was seeing you again. As you, him. A beating sound rang in your ears. His sharp eyes looked down upon you, considering your face, your lips. He stopped and turned towards Ede again.

“Your Majesty, this is… — We shall talk about it at another time. ”

She bowed and did not dare question his statement. He stepped out of the room without another word, only mildly surprised at finding his son at the door. He inherited his need to meddle in other’s affairs from his mother. It both amused him and annoyed him to no end.

* “Ede, what was that about? — Oh, nothing. Have you eaten yet? I was hoping we could eat together and talk some more about your new position?”

There was no negotiating her. Soon, she led you towards a secluded spot under a willow tree you used to hide in when you were a mere child. It’s blooming branches looked smaller now, even when surrounding both of you in its fresh shadows.

“Aunt, please tell me what this talk was about. With the King.”

Ede sighed, plugging some grapes from her bag. She stalled, settling down cheeses and bread at a luxuriously slow pace.

“Aunt… — Yes, I know. Listen, it is a matter between the King and I and… — Was it about me? — Sort of.”

You snorted loudly, startling a few birds in the tree.

“What do you mean? — It was about my replacement. He disagrees with my choice.”

That should not have stung as much as it did.

“And I told him that I would not be changing my mind anytime soon. And that you would be taking my place in three weeks time as per what was planned. — Wait… Three weeks? From now? It’s too soon, Ede.”

She shushed you with a finger against your lips, as she did when you were younger.

“No discussion, no negotiation.”

She proceeded to tell you all about the Royal Healer’s position. You were to tend to the Royal Family, anytime day or night, big or small wounds. Fondly, she recalled a time when Legolas was still small, and had fallen off of a tree, breaking his wrist. He had been restless for the long process of the cast and even more when he had to not use his arm for weeks after that. Being light of foot was not something you were born with and he had mastered it with numerous injuries and various broken bones. You recalled the infinite patience his father had to show. The prince was not as quiet and calm as he was now. She kept on with an extended list of places you were expected to go and help, as well as the palace. Indeed, she had taken it upon herself to replace the old healers in all the neighbouring villages. Most of them had been replaced, yet there was still work to do and new persons to train. At the first lights descending in the sky, she excused herself, exhausted that she was. She kissed your temple and walked away.

Your room felt smaller once you reached its bed. The walls seemed to be getting closer with each moment and soon, you could not stand it any longer. The night had just settled, the first stars showing above. Without much thinking, your feet wandered around the place, finding bushes and crannies, the deep river you knew. Several times, you passed by the willow you had eaten under earlier that day. Somehow, it drove you to its shelter, the rays of the moon shining through the leaves, giving the place an eerie and melancholic air.

Carefully you immersed yourself in this small reprieve of the world.

What you did not know was that you were not alone, sneaking around at night, unable to sleep.

* Once done with the argument, Thranduil had left the infirmary in a hurry, not wanting to dwell in a room where you were. Inadequacy was not something he was fond of feeling. Legolas followed him back to his chambers. He could sense his son’s amusement from behind him. When he turned around, stepping into his bedroom, the very same son had the audacity to laugh wholeheartedly.

“You do remember you owe me allegiance, even as my son and heir.”

The elf struggled to gain back his composure and nod. Finally he had come to his senses.

“Yes, Father. Although I choose to find our relationship into its more domestic issues than its governmental ones.”

Or not.

“Legolas, I swear on your mother’s grave if you do not explain why you are mocking me I will send you to an early retirement deep in the forest with nothing but bread and water to survive, as well as the animals to keep you company.”

That made him stop. Thranduil’s threats were always outlandish. They were also never made in vain or carelessly. Legolas stepped closer to his father, leaning in as in confidence. The King’s eyebrow lifted in a show of not being impressed. From where he was sat, he could see the sparkle in his son’s eyes. The one that meant no good.

“Your affections are showing, father. — My…”

If he had not been angry to begin with, he might have been now. He thought back to that night and could not wash away the culpability creeping in. After you had left, he had spent sleepless nights, without an end to his thoughts about what he could have done worse. Never better. In fact, he had come to the conclusion that where you were concerned, things was to be left alone. A sort of status quo, left undisturbed. Nevertheless, he stayed quiet. The silence worried Legolas.

“Father, I never meant any harm. — I know.”

He couldn’t face Legolas anymore, a veil covering his vision. The King felt the weight of the past years weighing him down, sitting in that chair behind this table, his future in the eyes of his only child. How much he had wished there had been other children with her. Legolas was as perfect now as he was when he was born but he was alone. He released a heavy sigh.

“Sit.”

Legolas obeyed, fearing something worse than a stern talking to.

“Nothing is ever meant to happen between…” The name on his tongue travelled down his throat to his heart. He chocked on it. “It is not meant to be, my son. Of my own fault. No harm can come to her. Not more than the one I have already done.”

Questions began plaguing the prince’s mind, almost wondering aloud what his father could have done to deserve your absence and his longing. In a way, those questions were answered shortly after he thought them up.

“I was the one who chased her away. — You…”

Thranduil’s hand stopped him. It barely lifted in the air, before resting again.

“In a very unkind manner. The behaviour I had was… Unworthy.”

No other words were necessary for he was one to choose them precisely. His close circle knew that. That knowledge was what made his son get up and look at him, with so much disappointment in his eyes he could have made his father drown in it if he so much as wished it. Legolas did not have any will in himself to do so. Instead, he channelled this frustration and shame into his words, chosen carefully as he had been taught to, many times before.

“Did you even try to talk with her? — No. — Why?”

His tone had taken a harsh turn, startling Thranduil in his immobility. No good excuse came to mind. He had been afraid and incapable of voicing his apologises. With you gone, gone was the possibility of redemption. Now that you were here again, he could try. Legolas’ mother was still in his mind, chastising him for his actions. He had come to accept that he would never forget her. That she would remain his conscience for the years to come, the years until his disappearance from this Earth. He had known her for so long, she would always be there. Telling him when he was doing wrong too. Even if it was with the voice of their only child, now grown, looking at him with something akin to violence in his eyes.

“She is out there, thinking she has done something wrong, when you could have freed her from that burden long ago. That, father, is not an unworthy behaviour. That is the behaviour of a coward. — How dare you speak to me in such a way? I am still your King… — Not as long as you behave like this, you’re not.”

He strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him. His words resonated against the walls and the mind of the one left behind. A deep frown settled on his forehead, erasing all traces of previous fury. A weary hand pinched his nose, narrowing his eyes at his own anger. In a careless gesture, Thranduil pushed everything off of the table before him. Papers, ink, quills… everything went flying across the room. The only thing left were his hands gripping the edges of the table, ready to throw it too. Soon, he found himself crying silent tears, trying desperately to stop them from falling. His hands were shaking, a whole body tremor going through him, as sobs escaped him. This had to stop. A knock at the door interrupted him in his misery. Quickly he composed himself and followed the council servant outside, attending absentmindedly the meeting he was supposed to preside over. Legolas’ absence thrust another surge of sadness, pure and raw, through him. His absence only making him think about yours. In this scenario, he could lose you both. He could have none of it.

Once the first rays of sunshine started disappearing behind the clouds and down the horizon line, his feet brought him to his son’s chambers. He had to at least try to make this right.

* Under the willow tree, you laid, head resting against the trunk, eyes up in the sky. Sleep would still elude you, in the most peaceful ways this time. The clouds were moving with the winds, hiding and showing the numerous constellations up above. A rustling of leaves brought you back to solid ground quickly. Someone had found your hiding place, of all the places in the palace.

“Legolas? What are you doing here?”

The shadow did not answer, only advanced and stepped in the moonlight. It was indeed Legolas, but his eyes were different. A solemn toll had taken hold upon them and it was strange, if not completely out-worldly to watch him be this serious.

“I fear, the same as you. I could not sleep. — How did you find me?”

He did not answer right away, throwing a glance behind him before looking back at you.

“I followed you.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. His steps had gotten more silent with the years, apparently. From your room to this place, you had not heard him once, not even in the gravel or the grass.

“Listen, I am here…” He hesitated a moment. “I did not meant to follow you. It was the only way. The most opportune one. There are things you need to talk about. I thought that if I was the first to show, you would feel less incline in running. — The first to show?” Fear ran through you. “What have you done Legolas? — I talked with my father.” Something sank within you. “About you.”

Your voice died in your throat. “I never meant to overstep my position, as your friend. I was worried about what he could have done to warrant such guilty actions from him. — What actions? Wait. Did he tell you…?”

Thranduil’s voice interrupted you both. His tall stature loomed over, albeit hunching over to pass through the leaves and come to you.

“Legolas, would you leave us for a moment, please.”

The gentleness in his tone surprised you. It seemed it was a normal occurrence for the Prince who reached and squeezed your arm reassuringly before leaving with a bow of his head.

“I believe we have much to talk about.”

Neither of you said another word, before he stepped forward and sat down next to you. It felt awkward to see your King in such an informal setting. You could see the discomfort it brought him to be this close to you. You were about to get up and go, when his hand pinned yours to the space between the two of you. Stunned, you looked at him straight on. He avoided your gaze at all costs, not taking the risk to say hurtful things again, out of spite. Out of fear.

“My rank demands an exemplary behaviour and it seems I have failed in that task.”

Your breath caught in your throat, you kept staring at his profile, making it hard for him to keep going. Through greeted teeth he added more words you never thought you would hear from him.

“My actions towards you were nothing short of ungraceful and puerile. You have my deepest apologies.”

Finally, he looked at you, tall and head held high. That was as far as he would go. Legolas might have had a hand in that forsaken apology. It was a needed humiliation, if he was to keep you in his court. With him. Near him.

“Sire, you have my sincerest thanks for this. There was no need for you to do so and you demonstrated a great kindness by this gesture.”

His face relaxed slightly, his jaw unclenching. His hand was still on yours. The feeling erupting from that meeting left you dizzy and energised at the same time.

“Was that all, Sire?”

Thranduil could see the hope on your face. Brows pulled down, frowning around your beautiful haunting eyes, lips pinched in a thin line. What took him over he would never know, for he did not recognise himself behaving like this.

“No. The kingdom is deeply grateful to have you back here with us. This land deserves excellency and perfection. That is why I can be demanding of my people. As well as of you.”

His hand gripped yours. You did not stop him from doing so, letting him finish his thoughts. He seemed to be needing it as much as you. A prickling in your eyes made you withdraw your hand for a moment to wipe it out. Your fingertips erased the tears down your cheeks, while your tongue felt as a leaded weight in your mouth.

“I understand.”

Only then did you put your hand over his, squeezing lightly. A sharp hope ran through him, a knife of helplessness felt deep in his bones. He did not want to recognise the feelings growing inside of him. He knew what they were anyhow.

“Thank you.”

Words ran away in the night. Your eyes found the sky again, the stars and the moon above lighting your way in the dark. He was staring. You could feel it. You kept on looking away, biting your lips and swallowing your tears down your throat. If this was what you could get, then you would take it. At least he was sorry. Your feelings, you could deal with on your own. Thranduil’s stare was boring into you with little care for his heartbeat accelerating. Here he was, sitting in the grass, in the middle of the night, watching someone he thought he had lost. Something to smile about, finally, he thought. He was committing to memory the shape of your nose. The curve of your chin. The apple of your cheeks, the soft trace of your eyebrows. The stubbornness and intelligence hiding in your eyes. As he did back when, his hand slipped down your cheek, bringing you to meet his eyes. He settled in your throat, slender fingers finding their place under your jaw. Half hooded eyes and a sharp inhale from your mouth were all it took for him to meet your lips. Slowly, both his hands came to cradle your face.

Then, you were the one to pull away. He frowned, trying to meet your eyes. You wouldn’t. Cradling his hand against your cheek, you pushed it away. Deep within, the restlessness of your heart had not gone quiet with his words. Only louder, the beating in your chest trashing around, begging to be freed.

“My lord, I… I understand. I really do understand what is at stake, here.”

You met his eyes, full of something you never thought you’d see again. Worry.

“Nonetheless, I want more.”

Thranduil opened his mouth to stop you. You stopped him first, the palm of your hand quietly overtaking his senses, when meeting with his face.

“This. What is happening here, I will not have it hidden away. I cannot. Not after this long. I…” You licked your lips, anxious at his reaction. “I belong to you. In whatever shape or form. But, if you give me this…” The skin of your thumb caressed down, meeting his lips. He had stopped moving. “There will be no going back. All out of the shadows. And, if you break my heart a second time, I will not be coming back.”

For someone with a patient talent for words, the King was left speechless. No proper sentence could carry his meaning. Only gestures, actions and demonstrations of his affection and commitment could. So he did. For the first time with you, he became hesitant, his mouth shaping itself around your throat, your open neck bathed in the moonlight. He clung onto your waist as one would a lifeline, your hands threading through his hair when he kissed you. His hunger and thirst for you was unmatched. Unparalleled. He had forgotten what that felt like.

That night, as many others afterwards, you found yourselves bound together, under the willow.

#thranduil x f!reader #thranduil x reader #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fanfiction #thranduil x you

[cowboybeepboop]

The only one

“Kili, you can’t tell anyone about this.” “So it’s our dirty little secret then?”

Paring: Kili Durin x afab reader

Genre: romantic smut

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: You’re Bilbo's adopted human daughter and he takes you along on the journey. Kili has his heart set on you and after getting involved in the fight he gets angry with you for putting yourself in a dangerous situation.

Warnings: public sex, arguing, jealous Kili, hickeys, p in v sex, hickeys??? Idk what else I always forget

a/n: I did not proofread and its lowkey a summary of the first movie? This is my first smut regarding anyone in the tolkien universe but I did write some sad fluff at some point lmao. Anyways, please like and send any requests if you want <3 tags go absolutely wild

You’ve been an adopted hobbit for the last 18 years of your life, Bilbo was always comforted in the known so when he brought you along with him and the dwarfs on their journey you were beyond surprised. Your presence was unexpected for everyone, except Gandalf of course, and most of the company was against your involvement. The dwarves saw you as frail and weak, the only one on your side was your dad, but of course he was.

Kili has kept an eye out for you since you joined the company, he makes sure you're safe and also just enjoys looking at you.

__________

When Elrond and his fellow elves come back the dwarves pull you and your father behind them and create a circle around you. You stay behind your Bilbo as the elves talk with Gandalf.

Upon your entrance to their dining room you look around with wonder, you sit down between Kili and your dad. “They're so beautiful,” you whisper to Bilbo, he nods with a gentle but awkward smile. Kili’s ears twitch as he looks around, his eyes narrow on an elf who has his eyes on you, he moves closer to you wrapping his arm around you.

“You think so?” Kili questions, his jaw clenching slightly, “I think us dwarves are better looking, stronger too.” he says pridefully, you chuckle in response.

“Is it a competition now?” you cock your head, “You’re very good looking too, Kili.” he smiles wide.

“Is that so? I am the best looking of all of the company, aside from Thorin of course.” you laugh, putting your hand on his arm.

“A bit full of yourself huh?” he shoves your shoulder gently in response. Kilis arms finds its way around your waist as he continues to glare at the elf who dared to look at you, who did he even think he was.

Gandalf, Bilbo, and Thorin wander off with Lord Elrond, leaving you with the dwarfs. You watch quietly, laughing with them and listening to their conversations before you feel yourself drifting off to sleep. Kili quietly sits next to you letting your head fall to his shoulder he smiles, covering you up with a blanket.

__________

After the company left the palace Thorin led everyone to the Misty Mountains, Kili keeps you in front of him. He insists that it’s better that way so if you fall he can catch you. As the rain picks up your feet slip under you, Kili and Fili grasp your arms quickly, pulling you back onto the ledge.

“Thank you,” you say softly as your eyes look over the ledge. Kili keeps a hold of your arm tightly as you all try to avoid the stone giant's blasts. The ground splits under your feet as the mountain takes shape as a giant, you grab onto the stone behind you before everyone begins to slide forward.

The stone giant slams into the mountain, throwing everyone off of it and onto the ground. Thorin yells for his nephews as the rest of the company runs over, Kili helps you up dusting your clothes off and checking to make sure you weren’t hurt anywhere.

After all the commotion everyone settles into the cave, Bilbo pulls you off to the side and quietly talks to you, he tells you about his plan to leave once everyone is asleep. “Why dad? What's wrong?” you whisper to him.

“Thorin is right, we never should've left home, I’ve put you in danger and I can’t let anything else happen to you.” he sighs as he runs his hand through your hair, “It’s okay, we’ll be fine.” he smiles reassuringly.

You both gather all of your stuff and sneak out, he leads you by the hand. He pulls you behind him as he talks with Bofur, you stay quiet looking around the cave. You didn’t really want to leave the company, I mean they were becoming your friends, you enjoyed the company.

“Y/N?” Kili mumbles as he looks up at you, he yawns. “Where are you going?” You crouch down putting your hand on his shoulder.

“Go back to sleep Kili, you need your rest,” you smile sweetly.

The floor splits and you slip down with everyone, Bilbo gets away but you are guided off with the dwarves. Your eyes fill with terror as you look around, you take a hold of Kilis hand squeezing tight as the goblins push you all around. You cower behind him, holding onto his shirt tightly.

Once you get out the dwarves all argue over where your dad went, your head drops as you think that your dad couldn't possibly have left you all alone. He reappears and you rush over to hug him, his hands drop to your waist as he smiles.

“Y/N!” Kili and Bilbo yell at you as you try to defend the dwarves with your small blade; it goes into the center of the wargs head, and Kili grabs you and pulls you up to the tree with him. His hand wrapping around your waist as he holds you close.

“Don’t move,” Kili’s voice is angry as he demands you to stay put. His hands dig into your slides as you look below your feet. Kili’s hands slip away as they start to throw the pinecones, the tree begins to fall, you grasp onto the trunk as tight as you can. His hands wrap around the tree, his eyes focused on you.

As Thorin and your father begin to fight the orcs, your eyes squeeze shut tightly, you try to focus on anything but the attack of Thorin. Kili pulls you up and onto the ground, insisting you stay put as they go to fight. You look forward, clutching the blade you retrieved from the corpse tight. As all of the commotion ensues you feel yourself being picked up by an eagle.

Once you all are in a safe place you watch as Gandalf helps heal Thorin. You stand next to your dad, holding onto his arm, as Thorin goes in for a hug you let go of him and move back. Your eyes wander to Kili who turns his head in order to avoid eye contact with you.

As the company moves forward you come across an area close to a river, Gandalf suggests that you all take a break and bathe. You and Kili were the last to go, you were paired up at the recommendation of Fili.

Kili guides you to the river, holding his weapon close to his chest, he’s been giving you the silent treatment after you got in between a fight. “You can bathe here, I’ll keep watch.” his voice stern.

“Kili..” your voice trails off as you look at his back, trying to pull his attention to you.

“Y/N, just take your bath. It’s getting dark.” Kili’s tone is extremely cold. You pout your lips as you begin pulling your clothing off slowly, once you finish you slip into the cold water.

“You can turn back now,” you say softly before you dip all the way under the water, holding your breath and squeezing your eyes shut. After a while you break the surface of the water sliding your hands over your face pulling the water back with your hair. Kili had turned around keeping his eyes on everything but you.

“Kili,” you wave him over, “come here, please.” you bite your lip as he gives you a bored expression.

“What is it?” he walks close to the bank of the river, his eyes scanning your face.

“Shouldn’t you join me? You're supposed to bathe as well,” he sighs, turning his back to you again.

“Fine, turn away.” he sets down his sword and strips quickly. You face the other way as he slips into the water with you.

“Kili, what is your problem?” you huff, spinning around with your arms crossed over your breasts.

“What do you mean?” his eyes are half closed as he looks at you with a slightly annoyed expression.

You move closer to him, “I mean, you’re acting so rude for no reason. You won’t look at me, you barely talk to me, you’re being so dumb” you glare at him, “So what is your problem?” he rolls his eyes at you.

“I don’t know maybe the fact that you threw yourself into harm's way? You could’ve gotten yourself killed,” he yells at you while running his hand through his hair.

“Calm down Kili,” you move close to him, putting your hand on his arm. “I didn’t expect you to get all worked up like this, I know I should have been more careful but I just wanted to help.” your eyebrows furrow as you look down.

His warm hands grasp your upper arms “You really worried me Y/N,” he presses his forehead against yours.

“You worried about me?” a sly smile paints itself on your lips, “does that mean you like me Kili?” your voice is soft and teasing. His ears turn a deep shade of crimson as he turns his head up.

“Y/N cut that out,” he puts his hand on the side of your neck, his eyes flick to your lips.

“Cut what out?” you wrap your arms around his neck pulling yourself close to him.

“You know what,” he clenches his jaw, your hands running down his back as you wrap your legs around his hips.

Kili pulls your face to his, hovering his lips over yours “Quit teasing me,” he whispers. Your hand snakes up to the back of his head, cradling it as you push your lips against his. His hands move to your waist, his fingers dig into your soft flesh as he hugs you tighter against him.

“Mahal,” he pulls away, pressing soft kisses down your face and onto your neck. You lean back letting his lips trail over your body, your nails scratch his scalp softly as you arch into him.

“Amrâlimê,” he whispers against your collarbone, “you’re driving me insane,” Kili groans. He grasps your face pulling you in for an intimate kiss, he’s getting more intense with his affections, his hands squeezing your hips roughly.

Your hand trails down his chest tracing every muscle on his stomach, he begins grinding against you while holding your hips against him. Pulling away from the kiss you gasp for air, leaning your head against his shoulder, you wrap your hands in his hair pulling it off to the side. Kissing his neck roughly you begin to leave soft marks on his flesh as he massages your ass.

“Y/N..” he mumbles into your ear, you moan softly as he picks you up, moving into shallow water. “Can we..?” his ears flush as he looks away, “I mean, would you mind?” you chuckle softly.

“Mhm,” you move your hips against his thigh, feeling him twitch underneath you. “But we’ll have to be quick..” you kiss his shoulder as his hands pull your hips up, he lines himself up with your hole, pushing the tip in.

“Let me know if it hurts,” he says gently, his hand finding its way to your neck grabbing ahold of it pulling your head back as you moan softly. He bucks his hips up into you, leaning forward you bury your face into his nape hugging him tight as you moan into his skin.

“My precious girl,” he groans as he slowly begins moving your hips up and down, his fingers digging into your soft skin, leaving red marks. You moan into his ear as you begin riding him, your arms wrap tight around his neck, eyebrows furrowing as you squeeze around his dick.

Kili cradles your head against him, holding you as close as he can, thrusting up into you pushing as deep as he can. Your head falls onto his shoulder, he moves a hand down to your sensitive clit, rubbing circles into it.

“I’m so close,” you moan, Kili nods in response.

“Me too,” he groans, his hands exploring every part of your body as he pulls you into a passionate kiss.

“Hey, Y/N, Kili, hurry it up.” Fili yells to you, causing the both of you to jolt up. Kili pushes himself into you as deep as he can. You bite your lip as you cum around him, your hole pulsing.

Your back arches, silent gasps leaving your open mouth as you ride out your high. Your whole body seems to tense up causing Kili to groan while he cums deep inside you. He pulls you off of him giving you a sweet kiss.

“Now we really need to clean up, and fast.” He says lowly, his hands creep up from behind you gasping your sides as he pulls you into deeper water to rinse off. You sigh contently as he holds your body close to his.

After quickly cleaning yourselves up; you both get out, drying off before putting your clothes back on.

“Kili, you can’t tell anyone about this.” you bite your lip as you turn to him, his eyebrows furrow. “Bilbo might actually get so mad he tries to kill you,” you giggle softly as his face relaxes.

“So it’s our dirty little secret then?” coming close to you he wraps his arms around your neck giving you a deep kiss. “But we will get to tell everyone later, right?” he pulls back, eyes scanning yours.

“Yes, Kili,” you kiss the tip of his nose, hands resting on his shoulders, “but let's wait it out for a bit, okay?” he smiles in response.

#the hobbit #the hobbit fandom #the hobbit fic #the hobbit fili #the hobbit fanfiction #kili durin #kili x you #kili x reader #kili x y/n #kili smut #Kili durin smut #the hobbit smut #uncle thorin #thorin #bomfur #bilbo baggins #the hobbit bilbo #dwalin #balin the dwarf #golin #fili and kili #Fili #dori #nori #ori #oin #bifur #bombur #bofur the dwarf #dwarves

[esculentevil]

(Thorinduil) Sugar Cures Everything (467 words) by EsculentEvil

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Hobbit - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield & Thranduil, Thorin Oakenshield/Thranduil Characters: Thorin Oakenshield, Thranduil (Tolkien) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Thorin Oakenshield Lives, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Caretaking, Syrup, Self-Indulgent, Elf Culture & Customs, Headcanon Series: Part 30 of Evil's Thorinduil Headcanons, Part 10 of Evil’s Greenwood Headcanons Summary:

Thranduil shares a secret of his people with Thorin and thus earns his trust... and perhaps something more.

#thranduil #thorin #thorinduil #thorin/thranduil #thoranduil #thorin x thranduil #the hobbit #mywriting #fanfiction #fanfic #flashfic #hurt/comfort #headcanon #Thranduil is a Bald Cypress tree #syrup #elf culture #silvan elves #selfish