#tolkien gave me life

[inahandful-of-dust]

THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING (2003) Dir. Peter Jackson

#the return of the king #lotr #the lord of the rings #tolkien gave me life #in order: #the red book of westmarch #narsil #anduril #barad dur #mordor #the gray havens #elrond peredhel #celeborn #galadriel #rohan #pelennor fields #battle of the pelennor fields #shire #the sshire #aragorn #aragorn son of arathorn #dunharrow #gondor #the white tree #minas tirith

[suzannahnatters]

So here's one of the coolest things that has happened to me as a Tolkien nut and an amateur medievalist. It's also impacted my view of the way Tolkien writes women. Here's Carl Stephenson in MEDIEVAL FEUDALISM, explaining the roots of the ceremony of knighthood: "In the second century after Christ the Roman historian Tacitus wrote an essay which he called Germania, and which has remained justly famous. He declares that the Germans, though divided into numerous tribes, constitute a single people characterised by common traits and a common mode of life. The typical German is a warrior. [...] Except when armed, they perform no business, either private or public. But it is not their custom that any one should assume arms without the formal approval of the tribe. Before the assembly the youth receives a shield and spear from his father, some other relative, or one of the chief men, and this gift corresponds to the toga virilis among the Romans--making him a citizen rather than a member of a household" (pp 2-3). Got it?

Remember how Tolkien was a medievalist who based his Rohirrim on Anglo-Saxon England, which came from those Germanic tribes Tacitus was talking about? Stephenson argues that the customs described by Tacitus continued into the early middle ages eventually giving rise to the medieval feudal system. One of these customs was the gift of arms, which transformed into the ceremony of knighthood: "Tacitus, it will be remembered, describes the ancient German custom by which a youth was presented with a shield and a spear to mark his attainment of man's estate. What seems to the be same ceremony reappears under the Carolingians. In 791, we are told, Charlemagne caused Prince Louis to be girded with a sword in celebration of his adolescence; and forty-seven years later Louis in turn decorated his fifteen-year-old son Charles "with the arms of manhood, i.e., a sword." Here, obviously, we may see the origin of the later adoubement, which long remained a formal investiture with arms, or with some one of them as a symbol. Thus the Bayeux Tapestry represents the knighting of Earl Harold by William of Normandy under the legend: Hic Willelmus dedit Haroldo arma (Here William gave arms to Harold). [...] Scores of other examples are to be found in the French chronicles and chansons de geste, which, despite much variation of detail, agree on the essentials. And whatever the derivation of the words, the English expression "dubbing to knighthood" must have been closely related to the French adoubement" (pp 47-48.)

In its simplest form, according to Stephenson, the ceremony of knighthood included "at most the presentation of a sword, a few words of admonition, and the accolade." OK. So what does this have to do with Tolkien and his women? AHAHAHAHA I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED. First of all, let's agree that Tolkien, a medievalist, undoubtedly was aware of all the above. Second, turn with me in your copy of The Lord of the Rings to chapter 6 of The Two Towers, "The King of the Golden Hall", when Theoden and his councillors agree that Eowyn should lead the people while the men are away at war. (This, of course, was something that medieval noblewomen regularly did: one small example is an 1178 letter from a Hospitaller knight serving in the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem which records that before marching out to the battle of Montgisard, "We put the defence of the Tower of David and the whole city in the hands of our women".) But in The Lord of the Rings, there's a little ceremony.

"'Let her be as lord to the Eorlingas, while we are gone.' 'It shall be so,' said Theoden. 'Let the heralds announce to the folk that the Lady Eowyn will lead them!' Then the king sat upon a seat before his doors and Eowyn knelt before him and received from him a sword and a fair corselet."

I YELLED when I realised what I was reading right there. You see, the king doesn't just have the heralds announce that Eowyn is in charge. He gives her weapons.

Theoden makes Eowyn a knight of the Riddermark.

Not only that, but I think this is a huge deal for several reasons. That is, Tolkien knew what he was doing here.

From my reading in medieval history, I'm aware of women choosing to fight and bear arms, as well as becoming military leaders while the men are away at some war or as prisoners. What I haven't seen is women actually receiving knighthood. Anyone could fight as a knight if they could afford the (very pricy) horse and armour, and anyone could lead a nation as long as they were accepted by the leaders. But you just don't see women getting knighted like this.

Tolkien therefore chose to write a medieval-coded society, Rohan, where women arguably had greater equality with men than they did in actual medieval societies.

I think that should tell us something about who Tolkien was as a person and how he viewed women - perhaps he didn't write them with equal parity to men (there are undeniably more prominent male characters in The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit, at least, than female) but compared to the medieval societies that were his life's work, and arguably even compared to the society he lived in, he was remarkably egalitarian.

I think it should also tell us something about the craft of writing fantasy.

No, you don't have to include gut wrenching misogyny and violence against women in order to write "realistic" medieval-inspired fantasy.

Tolkien's fantasy worlds are DEEPLY informed by medieval history to an extent most laypeople will never fully appreciate. The attitudes, the language, the ABSOLUTELY FLAWLESS use of medieval military tactics...heck, even just the way that people travel long distances on foot...all of it is brilliantly medieval.

The fact that Theoden bestows arms on Eowyn is just one tiny detail that is deeply rooted in medieval history. Even though he's giving those arms to a woman in a fantasy land full of elves and hobbits and wizards, it's still a wonderfully historically accurate detail.

Of course, I've ranted before about how misogyny and sexism wasn't actually as bad in medieval times as a lot of people today think. But from the way SOME fantasy authors talk, you'd think that historical accuracy will disappear in a puff of smoke if every woman in the dragon-infested fantasy land isn't being traumatised on the regular.

Tolkien did better. Be like Tolkien.

#tolkien #middle earth #jrr tolkien #lord of the rings #lotr #the lord of the rings #eowyn #writing fantasy #fantasy #female characters #writing #historical fiction #medieval women #medieval history #medieval #history #womens history

[fragiledewdrop]

WHERE NOW THE HORSE AND THE RIDER-Aka how I just had a Tolkien related freak out on the train

I can't believe what just happened to me. As in, it's such a weird chain of events that it has left me a little dizzy.

I was reading "Les Nourritures Terrestres" by Gide, and I got to a point he cites parts of a poem which I liked very much. The notes informed me that it's a French translation of "an 8th century saxon elegy called 'The Wanderer' "

That intrigued me, and, being on a train with a lot of time to pass (plus being a little tired of reading in French), I took out my phone and searched for the poem.

I found it here. It's the lament of a warrior in exile who has lost his lord and mourns the joy and glory of a world that has now disappeared. I was enjoying it a lot.

And then I got to this point:

And my mouth actually dropped open, because what?

Are you telling me that the Lament for the Rohirrim, one of my favourite poems in LOTR, which I learnt by heart at 13 and later took care to learn in the original English, which I sing when I do the dishes and which routinely makes me cry, is Tolkien's translation of an 8th century Saxon elegy?

Well, the notes at the end of the page confirmed it:

"Tolkien's rendition is hard to resist" I bet it is. I love that professional philologists add notes to their work saying "yeah, by the way, this bit here? It's in your favourite fantasy novel, and I am kinda jealous of how well it was translated, but it's Tolkien, the man spoke Old English, what can you do? Carry on, xoxo"

I mean, I had gathered that the Tolkien poem played on themes used in medieval literature, but I had no idea it was based on an actual, specific text. That makes it a hundred times cooler!

Maybe it's common knowledge, but it was a delicious tidbit of good news to me. Especially since I wasn't expecting it in the least, so I was blindsided by it.

Cherry on top? I had ignored the Old English text, since I don't understand it, but at the end I gave it a cursory read , and the line "Alas for the splendor of the prince"? "Eala þeodnes þrym!"

Now, I have never studied Old English, but I know roughly how to pronounce it (what kind of Silmarillion fan would I be if I didn’t recognize the thorn?). þeodnes has to be where "Theoden" comes from, right?

Apparently yes. I googled the "Lament for the Rohirrim", and Tolkien Gathaway has a nice little parapraph in which they explain all this. I don't know why I had never read it before, but it was a lot more fun learning it as an unexpected detour from my French practice, not gonna lie.

Bottom line: Tolkien was a both a nerd and a genius and continues to make my life brighter, and this is one of those moments in which I am very happy I have spent years of my life learning languages.

Thanks for coming to my impromptu TedTalk.

#tolkien #lotr #rohirrim #rohan #theoden #meta #lotr meta #I feel like a kid at christmas #lament for the rohirrim #poetry

[dailyadventureprompts]

Heavy Topics: A Child's Vision of Evil

One of the first big “aha!” moments in my journey to retrofit d&d’s laughably bad lore was the realization that the way the game treated evil didn’t make much sense.  As a dungeonmaster I was asked to create dramatic stakes for my players but the out-of-the-box antagonists supplied to me were as laughably one note as the pollution loving villains in Captain Planet. Who would ever worship the demon god of killing everything that lives? Of torturing you for all eternity? Of being unpleasantly covered in slime? 

None of it really made sense until I started to understand the world and recent history through a political lens, at which point several things became clear: 

Despite how large a bogyman it played in the satan scare of the late 80s, the people who laid the foundations for the lore of d&d came from a background of conservative american christianity, and baked a lot of that ethos into the game. 

The conservative christian imagination can only see things in black and white. People who disagree with them can’t just have a different opinion, even if that opinion is objectively good, they need to be wilfully evil . In fact they must be trying as hard to be evil as the christian is trying to be good, because they’re a backwards person, a monster, a demon. 

This idea of the “Backwards Person” is the exact process that gave rise to the bloodlibel, to the witchpanics, to the redscare, and yes, the 80s fear that satanists lurk around every corner sacrificing babies and putting poison in candy because they love evil that much.  It’s the same thought that’s given rise to Q-anon and the groomer panic. “People who disagree with just can’t just have a different opinion, they must be demons.”

D&D’s classic enemies are similarly all “backwards people”, hardwired to do evil so that players always have an excuse to kill them.  While on the surface it seems harmless or even childish it leads to the default d&d world being one where peace is impossible and genocidal violence is the only correct answer.  

We can do better in our writing than a bunch of shut-ins who wanted nothing more than to play cowboys and indians while ripping off Tolkien. Whether you want to write a sweeping epic or a mindless dungeon crawler, there’s a way to reconfigure d&d lore. 

Join me below the cut for a discussion of different ways to use evil in your games.

Children cannot control their emotions nor their fear, they lack the life experience necessary to contextualize things beyond a surface level reading. If you ask a child to "imagine something bad" they're going to take something that scared them, something gross or unpleasant or threatening and imagine it blown up to cartoonish proportion. Tolkien got bit by a spider as a kid and the entire fantasy genre has never lived it down.

D&D is weird because it keeps these childish ideas about evil and drags them forward into an adult context. Those three demon gods I mentioned in the intro make a sort of sense when you realize they're fears of dying, pain, and uncleanliness made manifest. That said most of us having outgrown our childish simplicity understand that those things are neutral, Spiders might personally gross you out but we all understand that doesn't make them bad on a spiritual level. In the base d&d lore however that personal distaste is ALWAYS true: Evilness is synonymous with ugliness and monstrousness, drawing a thick crayon line between the good people and the bad things.

That's where we get our particular flavor of backwards people, because one of those fundamental (pun intended) fears d&d inherited from it's creators was xenophobia, fear of the strange, but also fear of the stranger. When the white, suburban, middle class, christian creators of d&d imagined the other they took all the bad things they had been told in their youth about people who were not them and made them into monsters: That's why the default thinking enemies of d&d are tribal primitives who squat in the ruins of greater civilizations worshipping demons while coveting the beauty and wealth of cultured people. It sounds hyperbolic, but there's a one for one parallel between between the weird sexual anxieties conservatives have about black men and orcs raiding human lands to kidnap women as breeding stock. Same fears about emasculation and race mixing and ethnic replacement, only d&d gives the good ol' boys a narrative vehicle where they can revenge themselves upon their imagined foe.

Most modern d&d is not like this, and I chalk that up to the demographic shift that's happened both because of time passing and the influx of new voices that came along with the 5e renaissance. We're all media literate enough to avoid the obvious racial pantomime... except in cases like the Hardozee when the devs port something almost word for word from an older edition and we get a thanksgiving uncle/facebook aunt screed about how the silly monkey people are really SO happy to work for the refined and civilized and white elves.

What's left behind however is that pervasive childlike worldview: Where perfectly natural things that creep us out (like rot) or frighten us (like pregnancy) are made universally villainous regardless of any themes that are going on in that specific story. Ask yourself why the creators of a piece of media made their badguys look and act like they did, rather than just accepting that it's that way because "the lore says so".

Anyway, that's my rant over, and I promised you guys some different versions of how to use Evil:

Classic demons or lovecraftian horrors make for good bossfights but are thin on character, one of the basic building blocks of story. To remedy this, pair your unremitting force of darkness and destruction with a troubled and nuanced mortal agent, someone who is trying their general best but has been forced down this low road by circumstances beyond their control. This gives your roleplaying focused players something to play off against while your combat focused ones battle a building sized monstrosity. Raw evil isn't interesting, it becomes interesting when we see what it makes morally grey people, even good people, do in reaction to it.

Extremity is one of the best ways to turn normal people into villains, a looming disaster or recent crisis that's putting the pressure on everyone and preventing anyone from thinking beyond protecting themselves and their own. Beyond the people acting rashly, you're also going to have a legion of opportunists offering to fix the problem as your higher rank of antagonists to overcome.

Similarly, if you're going to have your villain backed up by legions of faceless mooks you're going to need a reason for their loyalty. Your villain is offering them something worth dying for, which gives your heroes an alternate win condition for overcoming their numbers beyond genocide.

If you're willing to take a step into a more fanciful, cartoony universe, feel free to play with the idea of good and evil as arbitrary teams: It's the badguy's job to cause chaos and it's the goodguy's job to stop em, they're all working professionals and the dungeon is the workplace comedy. This is fun, but then lets you escalate the tension when someone doesn't play by the rules. What happens when a zealot starts executing evildoers who'd already surrendered? what happens when the villain summons something that is more interested in devastation than wacky hijinx?

Think of morality like a punnett square: There's the party, and then there's the villain who wants the opposite of what they want. THEN there's the villain who wants what the party wants, and the ally who wants the opposite of party wants. Suddenly rather than a simple binary, the party is forced to balance the interest of varying groups as well as their better judgment. This can be made even MORE complex by creating different categories of "what the party wants", which is generally how you get complex political dramas like game of thrones.

#heavy topics #writing advice #dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #ttprg #pathfinder

[sindar-princeling]

The previous post made me think some more about the real life influences on LOTR, so because I’m down with a cold and have a lot of time to spare, I finally wanted to write a coherent post about those comments GRRM made about Aragorn and his tax policy.

For those who haven’t heard the actual quote, here it is:

Tolkien can say that Aragorn became king and reigned for a hundred years, and he was wise and good. But Tolkien doesn’t ask the question: What was Aragorn’s tax policy? Did he maintain a standing army? What did he do in times of flood and famine? And what about all these orcs? By the end of the war, Sauron is gone but all of the orcs aren’t gone – they’re in the mountains. Did Aragorn pursue a policy of systematic genocide and kill them? Even the little baby orcs, in their little orc cradles? In real life, real-life kings had real-life problems to deal with. Just being a good guy was not the answer.

And my god, do I have problems with this approach to Tolkien. It’s kind of like asking why Bilbo was unconscious for a lot of the battle of five armies, when we know it was a story Tolkien was telling his kids before sleep.

When looking at LOTR, I think you can’t not read it as an ultimate escapist fantasy - and what’s most important, Tolkien’s personal escapist fantasy.

He is Frodo - a man born into a middle class family, educated, well-read, with close friends coming from the same “social sphere”, like Merry and Pippin, who died in WWI. Sam is in a very literal sense the batmen Tolkien fought with, which he said he considered “so far superior to myself”.

Tolkien had a few batmen during the war, like the article from my previous post mentions. Most probably because he fought in a few different units, but also, he may have lost some of them to war.

And in LOTR, they all get a happy ending.

Of all four of them, Frodo is the only one who can’t return home, most probably mirroring Tolkien’s trauma. He’s the only one whose ending is grounded in trauma, PTSD, loss. The rest of the hobbits get happy endings - very simple and traditional in a way that after the war was nothing but good - they marry, they have kids, the kids marry each other, everyone is happy and lives long lives.

Sam, especially, gets the happiest ending of all in this sense - he marries a woman he grew up with, he has so many beautiful kids, he is mayor for like seven times and everyone loves him, the Shire thrives.

Tolkien was too traumatised after the war not to write Frodo as a mirror of his experiences. But then he took all the people who fought alongside him, who suffered alongside him, people who he lost, and gave them the happiest fairy tale endings he could think of. And it’s not that Merry, Pippin and Sam weren’t as traumatised - this ending is not meant to belittle their experiences - Tolkien is simply giving them the ending that real life didn’t give them.

Returning to the original point, to Aragorn - it’s just another version of the same mechanism. Gondor was struggling, Gongor had Mordor as their immediate neighbours and was heavily affected by the war as well. And then there came a just, good king, and everything was fine. The end. It’s a subplot of the same fantasy as the hobbits’ endings. It doesn’t matter how hard ruling is, we trust that Aragorn is a good king, because people of Gondor deserve a good king (the people of the real world deserved a good ruler who wouldn’t drag them to war), and we know that Aragorn is an honorable, just man.

Nothing about the LOTR ending - apart from Frodo’s trauma - is meant to be realistic. Why would Tolkien want to write WWI and the aftermath - this time fictional.

#flips the table eats the mic and leaves #it's mine my own my precious #meta #frodo #samwise #merry #pippin #aragorn #tolkien #the lord of the rings #lotr

[zafirosreverie]

Not enough (Bruno x Reader)

For @tolkien-fantasy hope you like it

__________________

You sighed and tried to block the pain from your mind as you let Casita help you to the nearest chair. You were sick of this, of not being able to do things by yourself and having to depend not only on your family, but on the house itself. It's not that you weren't grateful, but each day you felt more like a burden than a person.

"Thank you Casita" you whispered

You didn't even pay attention to the little tile that waved in greeting, you were too busy gently rubbing your hands and trying to hold back the angry tears that stung in your eyes.

You really missed the time when you could do more things, when you could run, jump, cook, play with your nieces and nephew, when simply moving from one chair to another was not an almost impossible herculean task for you. A time that seemed so far away now.

It started just three years after your wedding. You and Bruno were at your best, just enjoying each other's company, being goofy and happy, you had even made plans to make your family bigger (even if he turned red as soon as you mentioned it), it was all so perfect. Until the first blackout.

It had happened out of nowhere, one moment you were buying books with Pepa and the next everything had suddenly gone dark. By the time you woke up, you were already at home, in your bed, with the whole family looking at you with concern while Julieta tried to bring down your fever. Your sister-in-law didn't know what caused it, and despite what she might say, the soft smiles she gave you and how much she cared for you, you knew that a part of her had never stopped feeling guilty, because no matter how much magical food she gave you, you never healed.

Things had only gotten worse for you since that day, blackouts occurring more and more frequently, your joints and muscles getting weaker, condemning you to a life of constant pain. At first, you didn't want to say anything, you didn't want to worry Bruno or give Julieta more work, but when Pepa had to carry you back in her arms because your legs couldn't bear your weight anymore, you had to admit that something was wrong with you.

Your husband hardly ever left your side since then, saying that he didn't help the town much anyway. Alma accepted it, too worried that something could happen to the person she saw as another child, Julieta scolded you for not going to her every time something hurt and Pepa had made it her mission not to lose sight of you in the strange times when her brother was not with you.

"You can't leave me alone with those two, Y/N" she had told you "I'd go crazy"

"You already are" you teased softly

She smiled at you, but you could see in her eyes the same fear that invaded them all. They never told you anything, but you knew that Bruno had tried to look into your future to find out how he could help you or what would happen to you, when would you get better? But he never shared that vision, and deep inside you knew the answer: you never would.

It was hard at first, but you were strong for him, because you knew that the only person more terrified than you was your husband. He was afraid of losing you, of not being able to do anything for you, and even though you felt the same fear of leaving him, you decided that you couldn't let that paralyze you, that regardless of whether you had much or little time left, you were going to enjoy it with your family. 

Your nieces and nephew were quick to get used to your situation. Isabela tried to act as if she could take care of you by herself, she would spend afternoons with you after school and she would fill your hair with beautiful flowers to cheer you up when you felt bad. Often she and Camilo competed over who could make you smile the most.

Luisa was extremely careful with you. She had just gotten her gift just two years before and she was terrified of hurting you with her strength, so she was content to just talk to you from the door. Mirabel, your precious butterfly, was the one who kept you the most company.

The girl was a miracle, you had told Julieta, who lit up the whole room with her mere presence. It didn't matter if Pepa or Bruno were keeping you company, Mirabel was always, always by your side, telling you how her day had gone, what things she had found, showing you her drawings and simply making you feel warmer every time she smiled at you.

However, everyone knew that it was Dolores who took care of you the most. The girl was silent, but her gift had turned out to be the most useful in helping you. She was always aware of you, your heart rate, your breathing, everything. If you started to get agitated, the girl immediately warned any adult who was nearby, she was like your little personal sentinel, always watching over you even if she wasn't around.

So you weren't surprised when Bruno rushed into the kitchen, almost tripping over his own feet. You smiled lovingly at him when he dropped in front of you with concern etched on his face. You were pleasantly surprised how after so many years, he was still incredibly handsome in your eyes and how he could look at you with such love and adoration, as if he hadn't spent the last few years practically having to shadow you.

"What happened?" he asked worried

"Nothing" you smiled "I just got a little dizzy, but I'm fine, Casita helped me"

He smiled back gently, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb, his touch as light as a feather. That was another thing he knew you hated: that nowadays your conversations were just to say who had helped you. There were no longer funny stories, innocent gossip or funny anecdotes, your life was slowly ending between the same walls.

"Amor..." you whispered

"Yes?"

"...please"

Your husband's expression changed to one of intense pain. It wasn't the first time you had this conversation, that you begged him to tell you what he had seen in that vision. You weren't stupid, you knew there was no cure, otherwise Julieta's food would have already worked, you didn't want to know how it would happen, if it would be painful or if you would go off quietly between dreams. All you wanted to know was how much time you had.

"Y/N -" he started

"I need to know, Bruno" you interrupted him "I don't even know if I'll make it to next Christmas"

It was a depressing thought, because it was September, and if it weren't for the intense pain you felt all the time and that had gotten worse in recent weeks, you wouldn't be making such a suggestion knowing that Dolores was listening to you. But you felt that now was not the time to be careful.

"Mi vida-"

"Please" you begged "...just tell me, how much time do I have?"

Bruno looked at you with an intense mix of fear, pain, and regret, but with a flash of love, love so deep you could almost feel it in your very bones. He sighed and took your hands gently. His grip was shaky and you knew, even before the words left his mouth, that his response was causing him great pain.

"Not enough"

#reader insert #x reader #bruno madrigal preferences #bruno madrigal imagine #bruno x reader #bruno madrigal x reader #bruno magridal #encanto preferences #encanto imagine #encanto x reader #encanto

[unclewaynemunson]

Tadaaaa here is the sequel to this post, which came from an ask that got me in a chokehold for days now so kudos to the lovely anon who sent that prompt to me! You can also read the whole thing on ao3 :)

As soon as Eddie got into the passenger seat of his Wayne's truck, he saw the whole world go blurry. He tried to blink away his tears, but it was no use – nothing ever escaped his uncle's notice anyway.

'Wanna tell me what's wrong, boy?' he asked while he started the car.

Eddie grimaced. 'You know how they say you should never meet your heroes?'

'Hm?'

'Well, I met mine. On the fucking train. Just yet.'

Wayne shot him an incredulous glance.

'What was the Black Sabbath guy doin' on a train?'

'What? No, it wasn't... No.'

'The Hobbits guy?'

'Jesus Christ, Wayne, Tolkien died like fifteen years ago, keep up.'

'You want me to keep guessin' or you gonna tell me?'

Eddie rolled his eyes.

'Yeah, no, you wouldn't guess it right anyway. It's this poet.'

'Don't think I ever heard you talk 'bout poetry before,' Wayne remarked.

And that was exactly the thing. Ronan Right had been something... private. Something between Eddie and the faceless blob in his mind that embodied Right – and maybe Jeff. Okay, and Jeff's mom. But it wasn't someone he'd talk people's ears off about on any occasion he got, like he did with plenty of other musicians or writers that he'd get all obsessive about.

Until Steve, that was. Steve, who had been casually listening to his music. Steve, who had recognized the book in his hands and effortlessly opened the floodgates of his obsession. Steve, who had said the most beautiful things about Corroded Coffin without even knowing who Eddie was. Steve, who had talked with him about their shared passions for hours. Steve, who he now somehow had to merge with Right in his mind.

Steve, who seemed so perfect that it made all of Eddie's alarm bells go off at the loudest possible volume. Because this couldn't be real. This was something straight from a disgustingly sweet romcom scenario, and if there was anything Eddie could be certain about, it was that his life was no romcom.

So during the short walk from the station to Wayne's car, Eddie's head had already come up with a dozen scenarios that were completely spiraling out of control – even though they'd all make for great songs, no doubt about that. Steve would die some kind of tragic death on his way to their first date. Steve was secretly addicted to crack. Steve was a stalkerish fan who had lied to him about being Ronan Right to get close to him. Steve would cheat on him on their wedding day.

The list of possibilities was endless and terrifying – while the list of possibilities for this having a happy ending, on the other hand, was exceptionally short.

'Was it that bad?' asked Wayne while they headed out of the city.

Usually, Eddie enjoyed amping up his dramatics to a maximum around Wayne, providing the much-needed balance to his uncle's calm and steady demeanor. But right now, Eddie felt himself deflate in his seat. He couldn't bring himself to make a show out of it.

'No,' he said, quietly. 'He was perfect.'

And Wayne must've heard it in his voice, must've picked up right away that this wasn't Eddie being dramatic, that something serious was going on here, because he gave him this look that was cutting way too deep into his heart.

'Nobody can be that perfect, you know,' Eddie continued. 'It's impossible. And he – he gave me his number. And I just know that if I call it, and we get to know each other better, I'll get crushingly disappointed sooner rather than later. Because something has to be, like, disturbingly wrong with this guy.'

Anyone else than Wayne would probably tell Eddie that he was being ridiculous, that he should get over himself and call Steve; that he should allow himself to let good things happen to him or some shit. But Wayne wasn't just anyone. Wayne was the one person who knew exactly what Eddie meant. The one person who had seen from up-close the shitshow that Eddie's life had been, who had retained a front row seat through all of it. And he had had his own fair share of misery himself, Eddie knew that much. He was too old and had gotten punched down too many times to still hold naive illusions of the possibility of good things.

So he didn't give him some bullshit advice. He merely patted Eddie's knee and turned up the radio.

---

Ever since Eddie had left Hawkins, it had become a habit of him to stay with Wayne for a couple of weeks every now and then. For all his desires to get the hell out of that town when he was younger, he still spent way too much time at his uncle's trailer. But it wasn't Hawkins that he came back for, it was uncle Wayne.

It was home. And it helped him breathe whenever the city got too intense. Helped him get detached from everything that distracted him from the shit that actually mattered. Helped him get his head right when Chicago was threatening to make him lose it.

Time seemed to move differently in Hawkins than in the city. Slower. More naturally, too, somehow. Maybe it was because of the lack of nightlife and flashing neon signs when the world was supposed to be wrapped in darkness. The fact that he could still see the stars when he stepped out of the trailer at nighttime. Maybe it was the quiet, which allowed him to actually hear himself think. Or maybe it was the predictability of it all: Wayne waking him up with a cup of coffee in the morning, the two of them sharing cigarettes on the porch, Eddie helping Wayne with some chores and then trying to write new songs until well into the night, when the world was his and his alone.

He kept reading Right almost religiously, but it was different, now. Now that he could hear Steve's voice say those words, now that he could envision the way in which the sun shone on his hair through the dirty train window and the shape of his hands clutching a walkman that had Eddie's music in it. It was all different.

After a week, Eddie had a whole album worth of songs about the deception of things that seemed perfect. He hadn't been able to write even one song about things ending well, about things working out. That wasn't his life. Things never worked out. Why would they, for a boy born in a household where the trifecta of poverty, addiction and violence was all he had ever known? In the five albums he had produced so far, he'd never experienced a lack of demons to write about.

So no, he wouldn't be calling Steve, even though he had read the number that was written down on the sleeve of his own album so often that it'd probably be impossible to ever erase it from his mind again. He'd protect himself, this time. He'd cherish the hours he got to spend with Ronan Right, the memories that were already starting to feel like a fever dream, and not let his heart break any further. Not this time. Not again.

---

'Got mail for ya.'

An envelope landed in Eddie's lap.

'What's this?'

'I dunno, 's your mail,' Wayne answered.

Eddie didn't recognize the handwriting and the Indianapolis post stamp didn't give him much of a clue either. It didn't make sense that someone would send him a letter at his uncle's place.

He frowned, roughly tore open the envelope and pulled a single sheet of paper out of it. It was neither directed at nor signed by anyone, but that wasn't necessary for Eddie to know who sent it.

'What is it, boy?' Wayne asked, a worried edge to his voice upon hearing the choked sob that freed itself from Eddie's throat.

Eddie knew that the words were only meant for him. But he and Wayne were a unit, always had been, ever since Eddie moved into Forest Hills. So he wordlessly handed the paper to his uncle, roughly wiping the tears from his eyes.

Wayne assessed the text with a wrinkled forehead, holding the paper at an arm's-length in order to read it.

'That from the boy you met on the train?'

Eddie nodded.

When his uncle looked up from the letter, Eddie caught an almost unfamiliar look in his eyes. It was soft, hopeful. Optimistic.

'You know I ain't any good with words, like you, or this – this poet,' Wayne said. 'But this...' He pressed the letter back into Eddie's hand. 'This looks like he knows you, Ed. Like he sees you. For all that you are.'

He didn't tell Eddie what to do; that wasn't his style, never had been. But what he did say kept bouncing through Eddie's head unceasingly, making him unable to sleep, unable to write, unable to think about anything else.

---

Eddie desperately wanted to say something meaningful when Steve picked up the phone. He wanted to thank him for reaching out, to apologize for being too much of a coward to call earlier – but what came out of his mouth instead was, 'How did you know where to find me?'

'Eddie, is that you?' It sounded like Steve didn't quite believe it.

'Yeah – yeah, it's me,' was the only thing he managed to get out of his mouth.

'Look, I'm sorry if I overstepped,' Steve told him. 'I just – I couldn't get you out of my head and it all felt so right, you know, like fate or some shit, so I just had to... I needed to try. And I knew your name, and that you were staying with your uncle, so I got help from some friends and they managed to find your uncle's address.'

And as if Eddie hadn't been enough of an emotional wreck over the past week, his vision got blurry with tears yet again.

'Sorry, was it – did I go too far?' Steve sounded nervous.

Eddie could perfectly envision the way he would be frowning and anxiously running a hand through his hair; as if they had already shared a whole lifetime of getting to know all about each other's mannerisms instead of a few stolen hours on a train.

He hated the idea of Steve thinking he had done something wrong when all he ever did was so fucking right, so he determinedly shook his head, then realized Steve wouldn't be able to see that, and started scraping for words.

'No, Steve, you... You're perfect. And that scared the shit out of me, because so far, my life hasn't really done perfect. Most of our songs, they're – well – creative retellings of my own shit.' Now that he started talking, the words actually came a lot easier. 'They're all real, at the core, when you peel away the layers of, like, monster slaying and fantasy imagery. Like, everything underneath all that, it's all... me. Damage, betrayal, fear, violence – all that shit is true. Life hasn't been kind to me, Steve. And I was convinced that you'd only become an addition to that long list of crap, because you seemed way too perfect. I never thought I could have something good. And you're good, Steve, you're so fucking good. So I couldn't believe it.'

A long silence ensued at the other side of the line. Then, a sigh.

Then, 'Eddie,' in the softest voice possible, like his name was something breakable. Eddie didn't remember ever having heard his name said like that.

'I think that was exactly what I heard in your songs. Why I kept listening to them. Why they inspired me so much.'

Eddie tried to swallow away the lump in his throat, suffocated by the emotions bubbling up inside of him.

'I wish I could hold you, right now.'

Eddie's breath caught. He knew exactly what he needed to do: he needed to stop running. He needed to trust that Steve could be right, for him. That Steve could be something good.

'I mean, you could come over to Hawkins and do just that, you know,' he suggested.

'D'you want me to?'

He nodded, again forgetting that Steve couldn't see him.

'Yeah, I'd like that. Probably still got half that cookie somewhere in my pocket, y'know. Maybe we could share it.'

Credit where credit is due: the line “He sees you, for all that you are” isn't mine, it's one of my favorite quotes from Schitt's Creek and I really wanted Wayne to say that to Eddie about Steve, so here we have it <3

@ My beloved 🥐 anon: I hope you like this ending, and that I came close enough to your suggestion to have Steve make Eddie a character in his next poem <3

Taglist: @kathorakiryu @goodolefashionedloverboi @undreaming-rambles @fangirlycupcake @ghouligans-central @henderdads @dolphincliffs @anglhrts @ajamlessbaby @yearningagain @vampireinthesun @xxbottlecapx @kissaphobic-kas @mad-h-w @booksandsience @obsessivlyme @ppunkpuppyy @barnes-bestgirl @capital-p-platonic​ @eddiemunsonmeltdowns @callme-keys​​

#tumblr didn't wanna format the poem right so i hope it's not too annoying i ended up inserting it as an image #also i'm v nervous about this one bc i can't write poetry yet here i am pretending like i can #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #fruity ficlet

[velvet4510]

The thing about Bagginshield is… it’s just so tragic.

Samfro, Farawyn, and so many other Middle-earth couples feel like destined soulmates who cannot be kept apart by any force. Lúthien, Tuor, and Arwen even break the rules of their own race to spend eternity with the loves of their lives. And even couples parted by death, such as Thingol/Melian and Russingon, have hope for a reunion since Elves are re-embodied.

But Bilbo and Thorin…don’t. Thorin will reside in the Halls of Mandos until the end of days. Bilbo will leave Arda forever when his life ends. There is a chance that they might briefly reunite when Bilbo stops in the Halls before leaving the world, but it would just be that: brief. They can never be together forever. And not only that…fate only unfolds the way it should because Bilbo loses Thorin. If Thorin had lived, Bilbo just might’ve stayed in Erebor, meaning Frodo would’ve had nobody to adopt him from his apparently sad life in Brandy Hall as an orphan. The Ring would not have come to Frodo, and he would never have met Sam, since Sam lived far away from Buckland in Hobbiton. Bilbo had to return to the Shire for the world to be saved, and the only way to ensure that was the loss of Thorin. As a result, Bilbo spends 80 years remembering a love he only knew and had for 1 year.

And yet…. and yet….

A good many of the aforementioned couples achieve great things together and contribute to the shaping of the fate of the world. These unions have wide ripple effects: Eärendil & Elwing save Middle-Earth in the First Age, Frodo & Sam save it in the Third Age, etc. The world is changed for the better as a direct result of these couples having met.

And the same actually applies to Thorin & Bilbo. Because they met, Bilbo had Thorin’s mithril shirt, and he gave it to Frodo, and it saved Frodo’s life twice and enabled the Quest of the Ring to succeed. Middle-Earth’s fate is indeed affected by that hobbit and dwarf having met.

But unlike pretty much every other couple who made such a contribution, they must be separated for all time. They cannot receive that ultimate reward of eternal togetherness.

The only Tolkien couple as tragic as this…if not more so…that also truly and properly aligns with the term “star crossed lovers”…is Aegnor & Andreth, which…don’t even get me started on them.

#bagginshield #bilbo x thorin #the hobbit book #the hobbit #jrr tolkien #tolkien legendarium #samfro #frodo x sam #farawyn #faramir x eowyn #beren x luthien #earendil x elwing #tuor x idril #aragorn x arwen #lotr books #lord of the rings #the silmarillion #lotr #aegnor x andreth #thingol x melian #fingon x maedhros

[inahandful-of-dust]

THE DARKENING OF VALINOR in The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power, Episode 1 "A Shadow of the Past" Dir. J. A. Bayona

#creation requires sacrifice #tolkien gave me life #1x01 a shadow of the past #valinor #rings of power #darkening of valinor #the darkening of valinor #tirion #laurelin #telperion #morgoth #ungoliant

[retellingthehobbit]

Your retelling, will it be implying a Thorin/Bilbo attraction?

I ask because I just discovered that ship and when I looked it up on tumblr, it led me to your work lolol

Every time someone asks me this I feel more like I'm making a Real Adaptation! I love the idea of people following this webcomic for years while analyzing the gay subtext as if they're waiting to see if Supernatural will make Destiel canon. a powerful feeling. The short answer is yes! The long answer is that it's complicated, and that if you're not a Bilbo/Thorin Person you should still stick around because I'm going to handle it in a very funky way that is not what you're expecting (also at the rate I draw, it won't be "canon" in the comic for approximately 2039482289798334534534534534 years.) Generally Thorin's role in my version of the story is that he's a living embodiment of The Quest, and Bilbo's feelings for Thorin mirror his feelings for the Adventure. When Thorin first arrives at Bag End, Bilbo is overwhelmed and annoyed and confused-- he finds him both fascinating and horribly frustrating at turns, and has no idea how to feel about Thorin in the same way he has no idea whether he'll join the adventure. As the story continues, Bilbo's feelings on the Quest will shift, and his feelings about Thorin will shift as well. I just really love the general idea of a new take on Thorin where he has a bit more pathos and a deeper relationship with Bilbo. I also think the way LOTR retroactively reframes The Hobbit as a story written by 'unreliable narrator Bilbo Baggins' adds to the possibilities a lot! there's a lot of queer subtext in Lord of the Rings, and it's fun to bring more of that subtext into the Hobbit. Tolkien often refers to hobbit adventures as "queerness,' and makes "queerness" the name for the thing that bigoted hobbits are afraid of; the fact that Bilbo has been repressing the "queer" part of himself that he inherited from his mother is, canonically, the thing he's struggling with in the beginning of the story.

I really enjoy the bit in the Unfinished Tales where Gandalf describes Bilbo like this:

And now I found that he was 'unattached' - to jump on again for of course I did not know all this until I went back to the Shire. I learned that he had never married. I thought that odd though I guessed why it was; and the reason that I guessed was not that most of the Hobbits gave me: that he had early been left very well off and his own master. No, I guessed that he wanted to remain 'unattached' for some reason deep down which he did not understand himself - or would not acknowledge, for it alarmed him.

That feeling of not being "out to yourself" and not knowing what it is that you want out of life is just!!! It's just very compelling to me.

Thorin's still gonna die though. Don't you hate it when you have this whole elaborate coming-out-to-yourself story but then your first gay crush is so Problematic he kiiiinda nearly starts a war so you betray him by stealing the Heart of his Mountain in order to prevent that war, but then the war happens anyway and he dies horribly :/. A universal gay experience.

Thorin is also an interesting character to play with, especially because I'm diverging more from the book (compared to Bilbo or Gandalf.) The way I'm planning to handle him is that he's a character we see only "from the outside," from the perspective of other characters, and no character sees every side of him. The dwarves portray him as a noble king; the elves portray him as a haughty arrogant joke, to the point where it affects Tolkien's own "translation" of the story; Bilbo has his own complicated feelings about Thorin, but even his portrayal of Thorin is heavily biased and he never gets to see the full picture.

But yeah-- the Hobbit is originally a very lighthearted story, but I do think there are lot of darker and deeper emotions you could explore in it if you wanted to, particularly if you bring in the metatext of how it's reframed in Lord of the Rings. And I do want to explore those darker emotions! So I am XD. There already was an extremely book-accurate comic adaptation of the Hobbit that came out in the late nineties (though it's super short and the pages are cramped to fit in all the prose)-- so I don't really see the point of being obsessively close to the original novel, since an obsessively close comic adaptation already exists. This comic is for the Weird Queer Overly Emotional Metatextual Reframing of The Hobbit!! Anyway, it's fun.

#thank you for the ask! #sorry it takes me so long to answer things XD #the hobbit #lotr #the hobbit comic #retelling the hobbit #asks

[thekingofwinterblog]

Tolkien's crowns.

You know something that really annoys me about the Tolkien movie adaptions?

Crowns.

Like a lot of things Jackson did, he basically crafted something completely new out of the bare bones we get from some descriptions, for better or worse, but the Crowns are another matter, because not only did Tolkien give very clear descriptions, and even drew the two most notable ones(the crowns of the dwarves and gondor)that appeared over the course of Lotr and the Hobbit, both had very, very clear cut meanings and symbolism behind them, that tied them to their real life origins.

The crowns of the dwarves of Erebor and Moria look like someone took their helmets and filed down the sides so only the skeleton remained, to varying degrees of success.

But you know what tolkien used?

In the books, Tolkien's dwarves uses crowns speciffically modeled after the crown of the Austrian-Hungarian Empire.

Why?

Well if you know anything about said empire, and the actual inspiration for Tolkien's dwarves, the picture is a bit clearer.

See Tolkien specifically modeled his dwarfs, their history of losing a homeland, desire for a new one, and their proud, industrious culture of craftsmen and skills of making money on a mixture between the Norse mythical dwarves, and the Jews in the long centuries after the Romans kicked them out of their original homeland.

Now with this in mind, Tolkien choosing to model the Dwarves crown on the Austrian one is him specifficaly choosing a real, Germanic crown as the inspiration... As well as a nod to the fact that the Austria-Hungarian empire was legendary for his time(The time Tolkien grew up in) as a progressive haven for jews, probably the best in Europe.

An empire, that was also destroyed by fires of war, just Moria and Erebor.

In other words, there is so much symbolism here that is completely and totally stripped away by the helmet crowns the movies gave them.

Hell, even the original hobbit animated movie got this right, while Jackson did not, as they basically just made the crown the austrian one, just a bit more exagerated.

Meanwhile, there is the crown of gondor, which completely missed absolutely everything tolkien tried to do with the Gondor crown.

It's a crown that fits perfectly with the rest of the city, this is truly a crown of the Gondor that the movies portrayed.

Meanwhile, Tolkiens Winged silver crown... Does not.

Even within the context of the fact that the books gondor is an early medieval(as it does not have plate armor at all) styled kingdom in terms of armor and clothing design, the crown does NOT fit in the slightest.

And that's the point.

The original crown of Gondor was a simple war Helm of the day that Elendil wore, and the later one that Aragorn wore was a more fancy replica of that helmet.

It is outdated by thousands of years, a relic of an elder time that was long lost even when Gondor's lost it's Kings in the first place. It's not supposed to fit in.

Also the fact that Elendil wore this, and it was considered just fine, tells us a lot about Gondor's fashion and style of arms during the closing days of the second age.

However, then we get into the deeper meaning behind the crown and where it was inspired from.

Gondor's winged crown was very deliberately inspired and based on the crowns of ancienct egypt, which was one of the main inspirations for Gondor and(to a lesser extent) arnor.

Just like Egyot there were two kingdom, an upper and a lower one, though in middle earth it was instead called the northern and southern ones.

Just like egypt, Gondor's entire socity and political and economic strength was based around their massive river that ran through the realm.

Just like Egypt, one of the biggest problems the gondorian elites had was their obsession with grand mousoleums and graves for their elites, focusing far more on the dead rather than their living children, and wasting who knows how much coin, manpower, energy and resources on such rather than just burying them in thr ground.

Basically the same problem egypt had building stupidly expensive superstructures for their dead in the form of pyramids, rather than something actually useful.

Then there is the fact that just like how lower and upper egypt combined their regalia together(as in they fused the two crowns into one, bigger one), Aragorn very deliberately made the royal regalia of the reunited Kingship BOTH his ancient and out of place winged crown, and the Silver scepter of Annuminas, the royal symbol of Arnor, combining the two of them together into one office.

#j r r tolkien #tolkien's legendarium #peter jackson #lord of the rings #the hobbit #crowns #meta #austria hungary #egypt #symbolism #gondor #arnor #khazad dum

[dem-obscure-imagines]

The Book Keeper

Kili x Reader

Fandom: Tolkien

Summary: On an unsuspecting summer afternoon, Gandalf the Gray shows up on your front porch and, much like he did to Bilbo, sweeps you up into an adventure you never could have imagined. With the knowledge of things to come, will you be able to change the ending?

Note: For my sanity, we’re pretending the book describes the dwarves the way they look in the movies. Also I’m gonna deviate a bit from book canon and dip my toes (more like my entire leg) into movie canon just because things flow a little better that way. Also also, I took some liberties with the Dwarvish courting customs. I will probably also be uploading this to AO3 at some point, separated into chapters for easier navigation. 

Bear with me and behold my Magnum Opus.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, the Hobbit spoilers, alcohol/drinking, some angst but a fluffy ending, mentions of injuries, kind of a slow burn but very fluffy

Word Count: 45k

Reader Is: Female, from our world, 23 years old

Stuck. You were stuck. You read the last few sentences back to yourself, but they didn’t make anything click. You’d lost your steam and now, you were stuck once again.

Writing was a lot harder than it looked, that was for sure, but writing something fantasy? You were finding the task nearly impossible. When you’d started the project several months before, it had seemed so fun. You’d grown up on Narnia, on Lord of the Rings. Building your own fantasy world would be quite the task, you’d known, but perhaps you didn’t know quite how time consuming it would be, let alone when you added in the characters and their characterizations, which fantasy creatures to include, how the magic would work, how the weapons would work and so on and so forth.

Thinking about it too much gave you a headache, so you sat back in your chair, closing your laptop. Maybe you needed a break. Some more caffeine, maybe, some stretches for your strained neck and sore wrists.

You stood up and walked to the kitchen to make yourself an iced coffee, filling a glass halfway with ice before pouring in some cold brew and milk. You slipped a bamboo straw into your drink and stirred the liquids until they were better acquainted with one another.

You looked around the kitchen, thinking. This was your parents’ house. You’d moved back in with them after graduating college until you could figure out what to do with your degree. Your dream, of course, was to be a full time writer, to adventure, to find inspiration for a great story, but for now, you were working part time at the local book store, writing your stories in the time you were at home.

Most days, you were left to your own devices, your parents out of the house and the place all to yourself. It was quiet. Kind of lonely, if you were honest, and so you spent most of your days escaping into movies, books, and your own fantasy world. It was kind of monotonous. You couldn’t even count how many days you’d lost this way.

“Is this what burnout feels like?” You wondered, chuckling and shaking your head. It probably was, you reasoned. You’d spent so long at school that now that you were done, you didn’t really know what to do with your life, and…even if you did, you didn’t have the energy to do it.

You let out a long sigh, which was interrupted by the ringing of your doorbell.

Maybe it was the lap desk you’d ordered on Amazon, you thought in passing, walking in that direction. But when you got there, there was no box sitting on the porch. Instead, there was a tall man in a gray cloak and a gray pointy hat standing there.

“Um, hi?” You asked, your eyes narrowing at the stranger, who you were beginning to believe wasn’t just someone cosplaying Gandalf.

“(Y/N) (L/N),” He grinned. “I’ve been waiting to meet you for quite some time, now.”

“Gandalf?” You asked, and he nodded, seemingly proud of your answer.

“Hello, dear girl.” He tipped his hat to you. “May I come in?”

And while there was some part of you telling you this was simply too good to be true, another, more desperate part of you knew if he was real, he wouldn’t be here without good reason. “Uh, yeah, of course. Come on in.”

So, you made him a cup of tea and the two of you settled in to the couch in your living room. Gandalf looked around, amused by your house. He’d seen many houses in his time, although none quite so…modern. It wasn’t often he got the pleasure of travelling to your realm.

“So you’re…the Gandalf. Gandalf the Gray. From…the Tolkien books and stuff.” You wondered, sipping your iced coffee, still in a state of total shock. Maybe you’d fallen asleep at the keyboard and this was nothing more than an exhausted hallucination, cooked up by your writer’s block.

“Quite the same.” He nodded, a glimmer of amusement in his wise eyes. “I’m sure you’re wondering what I’m doing here.”

“Yeah, I…I am.”

“You see, I’m in need of some assistance. For an adventure. One you are…quite familiar with.”

You stared at him for a long time before remembering you should say something. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Oh I think you do.” Gandalf took a long sip from your Captain America mug. “Is there not a book you read in your youth that you wished…had a different ending, perhaps? One you loved very dearly, but…one of the characters you cared for had their own ending cut short…”

You gulped and thought for a long moment, the pieces clicking into place, despite the fact that you were afraid to put them into words. “Are you talking about…?”

His eyes glimmered. “You know what I’m talking about. If you want to come with me, take me up on this offer, all you need to do is follow me out that door.” He pointed to the front door and you stared at it. It didn’t look special, altered, but you knew his magic worked in mysterious ways.

“Why would you want me?” You asked quietly, suddenly unsure. The hope in your chest began to dwindle. “I’m…I mean look at me, I’m not much of an adventurer. I’m a writer. A college burnout. I don’t…” You chuckled pathetically. “I don’t know what I’m doing with my life.”

“You know, I had a Hobbit tell me this very morning that he wasn’t much for adventures either.” He shrugged. “But I believe you know the outcome of that as well. All of this time travel business is rather complicated, isn’t it?”

“What’ll my parents think if I just disappear? How long will I be gone?”

“When I bring you back, it’ll be as though you never even left.” Gandalf reasoned, tilting his head. “And after all, won’t an actual adventure help your story along?”

He drove a hard bargain, that was for sure.

You glanced down the hall towards your room. “Should I…grab my book, then?”

He winked. “You’ll need it.”

You walked to your room and scanned the shelf where you kept your fantasy books. There it was, nestled in there next to Narnia. The Hobbit.

You’d loved the book as a tween when you’d be forced to read it in middle school, but in all honestly, you hadn’t really touched it since. You’d watched the movies, sure, but they were hardly accurate. Your fingers tingled as you took it off of the shelf, and when you got back to the living room, Gandalf was gone.

“Gandalf?” You called. No response. “Gandalf?” Nothing again.

You looked down at the book and back up at the front door. It hadn’t changed at all. It looked ordinary. And yet, you felt a tug in your chest pulling you to see if what the wizard had said was true.

You chuckled and sighed. Or, you’d made the whole thing up in your head. Gandalf had never been there and never would. He didn’t exist.

And then you looked at the coffee table only to find your mug still sitting there, full of steaming tea.

And so, at the risk of feeling like an idiot, you walked to the door, opened it, and stepped over the threshold…into a cozy hobbit hole.

Immediately, you looked back, wide-eyed, expecting to find your front door from the outside, but instead seeing the wide, round door that stood at the entrance of Bilbo Baggins’ home. There was plenty of chatter inside, the deep voices of several rowdy men and one panicked, flustered hobbit.

“H-hello?” You called into the house softly, tentative. You walked a little further, following the voices. “Hellooo??”

Faintly, you heard a now-familiar voice. “Kili, would you go fetch our guest? Seems she’s a bit late.”

You heard a few voices murmur “She?”

Your heart raced as you stood there, waiting. You heard heavy footsteps, and then finally a figure came around the corner. There he was. Kili, the Dwarven Prince, the youngest of the dwarves in the company. He stood a head shorter than you with shoulder-length raven hair and a dusting of stubble across his chin. He was handsome, very much so, in fact. Just the way you’d always imagined him to be.

“Kili.” You whispered, the breath stolen from your lungs as you stood there, bewildered. This was real. He was real.

His breath hitched and he stared at you for a long moment, eyes sparkling as he looked up at you. “I-I’m sorry, have we met before?”

You blinked and shook your head. “Oh. Uh, no. Sorry. I’m (Y/N).”

Kili smiled, charismatic as ever. “You must be this Book Keeper Gandalf speaks of.”

“I guess I am, yeah.” You nodded, staring down at your shoes, shy all of a sudden. You’d been dreaming of this moment for years. Meeting him. Changing things. And yet, being here, doing it…it was terrifying to say the very least.

Your eyebrows furrowed when you got a good look at yourself, though. These were not clothes you were familiar with. Well, you were in a way, you supposed. These were the clothes you’d described the main character of your book to be wearing; a long orange hooded cloak, leather armor on top of a flowing white top. Around your right ring finger, its point facing outwards, was a claddagh ring with a green gem set into it.

You reached up to see if your ears came to a point, and surely enough, they did, just like the Sunset Fae at the heart of the fantasy story you’d been writing. Weird.

“We’re all in here.” Kili motioned behind him, to where he’d come. “Are you from around these parts?”

“Oh! No, I’m from…pretty far from here, actually.”

“Whereabouts?”

Gandalf saved you from having to answer that question. “Dwarves, this is (Y/N) (L/N). The Book Keeper. She’s come all the way from another realm to help you on this journey.”

The rest of the dwarves murmured amongst themselves.

“What does that mean, Gandalf?” One of the dwarves asked.

“Another realm?” whispered another.

“It’s true, what he says.” You confirmed, nodding and letting the words come to you. “Where I come from, there are many tales of this adventure, the things that…have yet to unfold for you. I’m pretty familiar with them. Gandalf thinks I’d be able to steer you in a better direction at some points.”

“Prophecies?” Asked a deep, stern voice. Looking at him, a regal dwarf with dark brown hair, a streak of gray near the front of his head. Your heart raced. He was Thorin, no doubt, and he was every bit as intimidating as you’d heard he’d be.

“Sort of. Where I’m from, it’s presented as a work of fiction, actually.” You nervously tucked a strand of hair behind a pointed ear.

He stiffened. “Are you an elf?”

Your eyes widened. “What? No, I’m not. I’m, uh…”

“She’s human.” Gandalf stated. “Where she’s from she’s human, that is. Our realm’s magic has changed her, it seems.”

“Human?” Kili whispered. Until he spoke, you’d nearly forgotten he was standing beside you, staring at you. In fact, his eyes hadn’t left you since you walked through the door.

You nodded, taking in the company for all that they were. Thirteen dwarves, one hobbit, and one wizard who had whisked you away from your normal life into something much more exciting, it seemed. You couldn’t help but get a little choked up, looking at all of them. They had so much left to endure, to survive, to experience.

“I want to help.” You assured them, your voice cracking and a tear slipping down your cheek. “I want to help you. If you’ll have me, your highness. I ask nothing in return. I’m merely…along for the adventure.”

Thorin thought for a long, hard moment. You waited on pins and needles until finally, he relented, “how could we refuse an offer like that?”

***

The next day came and with it, the beginning of the adventure. The dwarves loaned you weapons. Namely, Kili had. In fact, he hadn’t really taken his eyes off of you since the two of you met. It had been less than twenty-four hours, and he already seemed endlessly fascinated by you.

“Tell me again, what is a telephone?” He asked, amusement heavy in his tone.

“It’s a little device that lets you talk to someone really far away.” You explained.

“Incredible.” He chuckled. “And a camera?”

“It’s like a little box that captures memories. Preserves them as a picture so you can look at them later. Sometimes they’re even built into the phone.”

“Did you bring one with you, by any chance?”

You laughed and shook your head. “No, I didn’t, unfortunately. I’m not sure it would have stayed like that when I came here anyway.”

“Right.” Kili was quiet for a few moments as you walked on. “Do you think a telephone would work between realms?”

“Probably not. Why?”

“How else will I keep in touch with you when you go back?” He was flirting, now.

“Maybe Gandalf would bring our letters back and forth.” You suggested, partially joking, but the look it put on his face made you think it wasn’t a joke to him.

“You’d write to me?” He asked sincerely, catching your gaze with his own.

“Of course I would. I’ve been reading about you for years. It would be nice to make you read about me for a change.”

You caught Balin grinning in front of you, an amused, knowing look on his wise face. You’d always admired the oldest of the company. He was wise and kind, looked out for the rest of the dwarves like they were his kids. You hoped maybe at some point, that kind of affection would be turned to you as well.

Soon, you all came upon Gandalf, who had the horses for the journey. Each dwarf claimed a horse while Gandalf pulled you aside, a large bag in his hands. He gave it to you, a glimmer in his eye.

“I thought you could use some supplies for the journey. Some things that might bring you comfort in a strange and unfamiliar land.” He winked.

“Thank you.”

“Gandalf, it seems we’re a horse short.” Thorin informed the wizard. Bilbo had just arrived, and seeing as you weren’t a part of the plan until the day before, it made sense there wasn’t a horse for you. But that did raise the question: what were you going to do?

“Oh, are we?” Gandalf raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. He counted absentmindedly while the dwarves saddled up. “Well, I suppose one of you will have to take the Book Keeper with you, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“I’ll take her!” Kili offered a little too enthusiastically and a little too quickly. Fili laughed at his brother’s display. He’d never seen him behave this way before. He’d had fleeting crushes, sure, but he’d never been desperate like this. He met your eyes, cheeks reddening and shy. “I…if you’d like me to.”

You grinned. “Sure, Kili. Thank you.”

“You seem smitten.” Gandalf commented quietly and you looked up at him.

“Have been since I was like twelve, but I think you knew that when you asked me to come.”

He laughed. “I know many things.” He replied cryptically. “And I knew we’d need someone with a strong motivation to turn the tides.”

“Well, let’s hope I’m the girl for the job.” You chuckled, slinging your bag over your shoulders. “Thank you. For everything.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Gandalf chuckled.

You took a peek inside the bag he’d packed you and sitting right on top was a Polaroid camera. It looked out of place in Middle Earth, but you had a feeling it would come in handy.

“What is that?” Fili asked, he and Kili wandering over to you.

“This.” You pulled it out and held it up. “Is a camera.”

“A memory device!” Kili said, excited. “How does it work?”

“Like this.” You turned the camera so it was facing you, Kili, and Fili with Gandalf and some of the other dwarves standing in range, and you pressed the trigger. The camera clicked loudly and then a few moments later, a black square spit out the front of it.

You handed the undeveloped photo to Fili, who looked at it quizzically.

“This is blank.”

“It takes a second to develop. If you shake it, it helps.” You instructed him, and he took your advice, shaking the photo until slowly, figures took shape on its surface, the colors brightening. “See?”

“It’s us!” One of the other dwarves said excitedly, looking at what was unfolding amongst the party’s youngest members.

You grinned. “Yeah, it is.”

***

Once the excitement had died down and everyone was starting to get onto their horses, bidding the Shire one last goodbye, Kili helped you up onto the back of his horse with a strong tug. You adjusted yourself, an arm tentatively settling around his waist.

“You’re going to have to hold on tighter than that, Book Keeper.” He smirked, pulling your arms a bit tighter around himself. “I would hate to have you fall off and hit your pretty head.”

“I’ve never ridden a horse before.” You confessed, cheeks flushing red.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “How do you travel, then?”

“We have…um, motorized vehicles. No horses involved, usually.” You tried to explain in a way he would understand.

“Your realm sounds strange.” One of the other dwarves noted. You were pretty sure it was Ori, but there were a lot of names. Aside from the handful of them that you could identify easily, it was easy for them all to fall to the background. It was your personal mission, however, to make sure you knew them all pretty well before you left.

“Yeah, it kind of is. Especially compared to Middle Earth.” You chuckled.

“Can you fight, girl?” Thorin asked, skeptical of this girl his nephew already seemed too fond of.

“Admittedly, no. There’s no real reason to fight where I’m from, most of the time.” You told him, honest about it. You had no reason to make an enemy of the king of Erebor.

“We’ll teach you how to take care of yourself.” Balin assured you. “Kili there is an excellent archer. I’m sure he could teach you a thing or two.”

“I did archery at camp once.” You reminisced. “I was awful at it.”

“Oh, nonsense.” Kili shook his head and looked at you over his shoulder, smirking and confident. “We’ll make an archer of you yet.”

“We’ll give you sword lessons with Bilbo.” Dwalin joked.

“Good. I’ll need all the lessons I can get.” You chuckled to yourself.

***

The first night on the road, you all stopped just before sunset and set up a camp. You helped the boys unpack things, helped cook dinner, and before long, you’d all settled around a fire, eating dinner and talking amongst yourselves.

The fire’s warmth felt good on your skin, and once the sun went down the rest of the way, the stars in the sky were stunning. You exhaled a long breath, letting go of the stress you’d been holding in. One day down and nothing had gone wrong.

Gandalf was at the edge of camp, smoking his pipe. You felt safe with him there, like nothing could go wrong as long as the wizard was present. You knew, though, that at some point, he’d have to leave, and you’d be more or less on your own.

You pulled the book out of your bag and flipped past the beginning, reading by the fire’s light.

“Checking our progress?” Kili asked, sitting beside you, his leg touching yours and his warmth seeping right through your clothes.

“Something like that.” You chuckled, nodding. You flipped the page and brushed a piece of hair out of your face.

“How are we doing?”

“It’s hard to tell. Everything is so…condensed. There are weeks or even months between some of the major plotpoints.” You informed him, closing the book and letting it sit in your lap. “We should be okay for a while, I think.”

“And then what?” Asked Bilbo, obviously very nervous about the possibilities of this adventure.

“Trolls.” You replied, scrunching your nose.

“Oh.”

“I have to figure out how much I’m supposed to tell you…what things need to happen and which ones can be avoided.” You shook your head. “It’s a tough call to make.”

“I trust you to make the right decisions.” Thorin said, his voice stern, but a little warmer than it had been since he had met you.

“I’ll do my best.” You promised. The chill of the wind caused you to shiver a bit and Kili took notice immediately.

He got up, walked to his supplies, and returned moments later with one of the blankets he had packed, draping it across your shoulders. You were a lot warmer, but you weren’t sure it was entirely from the blanket.

“Thank you, Kili.”

“Of course.” He nodded, sitting beside you again. “You know, you haven’t told me how you knew my name.” His voice was quiet, soft.

You crossed your legs beneath yourself, curling further into his blanket. “What do you mean?”

“Back in the Shire, even before we introduced ourselves to you, you knew who I was.” He looked at you, his eyes sparkling once more in the firelight. The way the orange glow lit up his features made him look so…princely. Sometimes you forgot he was royalty. Times like this, though, it was impossible to not remember.

“Oh. Yeah. That.” You chuckled, looking away from him and instead at the fire in front of the two of you. “I’ve had this book since I was about twelve years old. I’ve read it a handful of times…I guess I could just tell it was you. It’s going to take me some time to put the rest of the names to the faces, though.”

Kili smiled, a warmth blooming in his chest. You didn’t recognize most of the others, but you recognized him. This was shaping up to become quite the adventure indeed.

***

Travelling so much after you’d been comfortable staying in one spot at home was, admittedly, a lot to adjust to. The first few days had taken their toll on your body. You were sore all over from riding on horseback for long hours and, additionally from sleeping on the ground every night. Some nights, you got lucky and the group would stop in a grassy area to make camp, but most nights, it was hard rock beneath you, which wasn’t very forgiving.

One of the days brought the group to a village, where you were able to replenish supplies in the market. Kili bought a beginner’s bow and a set of arrows to teach you to shoot with. He and Fili had been appointed as your unofficial bodyguards, as well as your teachers and they were taking the job very seriously.

They took you out hunting with them, and Kili thought it would be the perfect time for your first archery lesson.

“So what do you remember of your archery lessons in your realm, Book Keeper?”

“Not a lot.” You chuckled. “I remember how to notch an arrow, I think. It was hard to pull the string back.”

He smirked, handing you the children’s bow and quiver full of rudimentary arrows. “It just takes practice is all. We’ll have to build up strength in your arms, work up to a full size bow.”

“You think I’ll get good enough for that?”

The prince winked. “I know you will.” He searched the trees and spotted a sturdy branch that would be within your reach so you could retrieve the arrow once you shot it into the bark. “Aim for that branch there, the one with the moss growing on it.”

“Alright.” You pulled an arrow from the quiver and notched it, slowly pulling back the string. You tried to account for distance, but when you released the arrow, it arched pathetically and skidded through the fallen leaves on the ground.

“You’re tense.” Kili noted, taking a step closer to you, his eyes the tiniest bit flirty. “Do I make you nervous?”

“A little.” You admitted, laughing. “I mean, all of you do, not just…” You paused. “Being here is a lot. I’ve looked up to you guys for a long time. I’ve wanted to come here for a long time and never thought I would ever get the chance to. I guess I just don’t want to let you down.”

“You couldn’t disappoint me even if you tried.” Kili said. “I know Uncle can be a bit…stern sometimes, but I don’t think it’s untrue to say we’ve all been fascinated by you. It’s obvious where you’re from is quite a bit different than here, but you haven’t complained once, as opposed to the hobbit, who complains on the hour.”

You laughed a bit at that. It was true, Bilbo had been rather fussy and timid thus far on the journey.

“You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before, you know that?”

You smirked. “Really?”

“You’ve just got this…spark.” He shrugged, snapping a twig beneath his boot as he took another step closer to you. “Every time we turn a corner, it’s like your face just lights up with wonder. It’s like you’ve never seen a tree before.”

You burst into laughter. “We have trees in my realm, Kili.”

“Do you? I didn’t know.” He teased.

“Where I’m from, I have to travel quite a ways to see really beautiful places, and here, there’s a new one every few miles. I’m trying to soak it all in before I go back, I guess.”

He hummed, chuckling to himself. “Yeah, well, it can be dangerous sometimes, too.” He motioned to the bow in your hand. “Notch another arrow.”

You did as you were told and Kili stood behind you, examining your stance. You felt a large, rough, warm hand on your shoulder, guiding your elbow a bit lower. It was like your skin was electrified where he touched you, goosebumps pricking up on your arms, your heart racing at his proximity.

“Relax this hand.” He advised, his fingers curling around the hand on the bow. “Touch your thumb to your lip. And take a breath in.”

You inhaled.

“Release.”

You let go of the arrow and it shot right into the branch Kili had told you to aim for. “Woah!”

“There you go! See? You’re a natural!” He praised, that brilliant smile of his on his face. “You’ll be slaying beasts in no time.”

“You think so?”

He met your eyes, his smile softening into something more meaningful. “There’s not a single doubt in my mind.”

***

A few weeks had passed. You had managed to help the party avoid the conflict with the trolls, but had still wound up in Rivendell, in Elrond’s care. Thorin didn’t much care for elves, but he was managing to keep control of his temper.

Elrond had prepared a great feast for all of you, a celebration to welcome you to his land. And thus, you got to sleep in a proper bed for the first time in weeks. In your chambers, there had been a dress laid out for you, silky and orange, as well as an intricate elven circlet with a few gemstones on it.

You changed into the dress without help and headed down to the celebration, where the others were already seated at a table. Immediately, you felt fourteen pairs of eyes on you as you made your way to the only empty seat left, the one beside Kili. Huh. You wondered how that had happened.

“There she is!” Gandalf exclaimed excitedly, causing your already red cheeks to flush even redder. You didn’t like being the center of attention like this.

Gandalf, Elrond, and Thorin had a table to themselves, the rest of the party at a longer table.

“The Keeper of the Book, I presume.” Elrond said, tipping his head. “Pleasure to meet you. Gandalf has told me all about your journey from another realm to be here.”

“It’s an honor to meet you Lord Elrond.” You told him, heart racing as you met yet another hallmark character who had made a mark on your young adulthood. You curtsied. “I apologize if some of your customs escape me. I’m…not very familiar with them, admittedly.”

“That is quite alright.” He smiled. “I’m sure it has been quite the learning curve already.”

“I brought you a gift.” Gandalf confessed, presenting a glass bottle from beneath the table, a black cherry cream soda you were fond of back home.

You gasped, excited for even a taste of home after all of the time that had passed. You knew things had barely begun, though. It would be a long time before you would be able to go to a grocery store again. “Oh my gosh. Thank you so much! I’ll cherish it.”

You walked to the seat that had been left for you and sat down.

“You look different. Did you do something with your hair?” Ori asked innocently.

“Yeah, I pulled a few strands in the front down.” You chuckled, twirling one around your finger. “I’m also wearing a dress instead of pants, so that might be it.”

“Dressed up for these elves, but not for your traveling companions?” Gloin teased and you chuckled, twisting off the metal bottle cap and taking a sip, relishing in the sweet taste.

“My apologies. I’ll be sure to get all dolled up for our next hike through the mud.” The dwarves all laughed. “It kind of reminds me of my prom dress, actually.” You noted, admiring the shimmering elven fabric.

“What’s a ‘prom?’” asked Fili.

“It’s a dance, a big formal event in my realm. The boys ask the girls to go with them as their date and it’s a big deal. There’s always drama about who’s asking who. It celebrates your coming of age, kind of, because it’s at the end of high school. Everyone dresses up really fancy and dances all night. It’s a fun time.”

“You went to this prom? Someone asked you?” Kili asked.

“Funny story, actually. Someone did ask me to prom. Serenaded me with this big dramatic song and everything; it was a little much if you ask me, but we were friends, so I was excited to go. I got my dress, got everything ready, and then a few weeks before the dance, he told me he didn’t want to go with me anymore and asked someone else to go with him instead.” You said, taking a long sip of your drink.

“How dare he disrespect you like that?” Kili shook his head. “One would be lucky to have the opportunity to take you to an event of that kind!”

“Yeah, I was kind of upset about it. My friends ended up taking me with them, but I still got left alone during the slow songs.” You shrugged. “It was a while ago, though. I don’t think about it a lot anymore.”

Kili huffed. “Good. He doesn’t deserve your attention.”

“Is that ale, lassie?” Dwalin asked, distracted by the bottle you’d been sipping from.

You laughed. “Oh, no. It’s soda. It’s like a sweet, sugary drink from home. This one is black cherry flavored.”

Kili hummed curiously and you turned your attention to him again.

“Do you want to try?”

He looked from the bottle to you and his eyes softened. “You’d share with me?”

“Yeah, of course.” You shrugged, sliding the bottle to him.

Kili took a tentative sip, smiling as soon as the sweet drink hit his tongue. “You’re right. It is quite sweet.”

“Do you like it?” You asked and he nodded.

“I do, but…you should enjoy it. I have a feeling it’ll be a good long while before you get another.” He slid the bottle back to you, his warm hand lingering on yours for a moment. You couldn’t fight the blush that overtook your cheeks, you only hoped it wasn’t too noticeable to the other dwarves.

After the feast, there were some other festivities. The elves started dancing and playing music, moving with grace. Most of the dwarves had had a few drinks too many by that point. You could tell Kili was a little drunk, too, and Dwalin had told you earlier that the youngest dwarf was a bit of a lightweight.

At the moment, he was across the room with Fili, drinking and laughing while you took in the festivities. It was nice to see them have fun together. You hoped you’d be able to ensure they would have fun like this for many, many years to come. It saddened you to think of the end of the journey. That was the whole point you were here, of course; everything would be more or less smooth for the dwarves and their wellbeing until that final battle. But one wrong move, one missed moment and it could all be for nothing.

The more you got to know the dwarven princes, and their uncle, for that matter, the more you knew it would devastate you if you failed.

“Are you alright, Book Keeper?” Balin, perhaps the only sober dwarf at the moment, asked, sitting beside you at the edge of the party. “You seem distracted.”

“I’m alright, yeah,” you nodded, taking a sip of blueberry-flavored mead. “Just got a lot on my mind is all.”

“About the journey? Or are you homesick?”

“Definitely not homesick.” You laughed. “I don’t know what it is about this place, but…I kind of feel like I was always supposed to be here. Born in the wrong realm or something.”

“You fit in well.” Balin agreed. “The company has taken to you fairly quickly as well. Especially, ah,” he got a mischievous glimmer in his eye, “a certain dwarf prince?”

You blushed, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, it seems he has.”

“Can’t say I blame him. Beautiful woman from another realm comes here and saves us from trolls and who knows what else…” Balin chuckled.

The two of you looked across the room, where it looked like Fili was giving his brother one serious pep talk.

“Kili hasn’t had much luck in matters of love, I’m afraid.” He told you, his voice softer, as to not be overheard. “His looks are a bit unorthodox by Dwarven standards.”

“Really…” You murmured, shocked. “Well, by human standards—of my realm at least—he is…very handsome.”

“You think so?” Balin grinned.

“I have since the very beginning.” You told him. “He’s…” your voice got quiet. “He’s incredible.”

“Sorry to interrupt, my lady.” One of the elves came up to you, offering his arm. “Might I have this dance?”

When you looked up, Kili was about halfway across the dance floor, frozen on his way to you, staring at the elf who had offered you his arm.

“I’m flattered, really, I am.” You told the elf. “But, um, I’ve promised this dance to another.”

“I understand.” He bowed and made his leave.

Once he saw that the elf had left you, Kili’s eyebrows furrowed and he continued crossing the dance floor to you.

“You turned him away.” Kili stated, sounding confused. “Why?”

You shrugged. “I’ve had my eye on someone else all night.”

“Oh. I see.” Kili’s face fell and he started to turn, but you grabbed his wrist.

“You, Kili. I’ve been waiting to dance with you.” You chuckled.

Immediately, that handsome grin of his found his face and he took your hand, taking you out on the dance floor. His arm settled around your waist, pulling you close, while the other hand held yours. Despite the height difference, it worked.

“I haven’t found the time to tell you yet, but…” He paused, staring at you like you were made of starlight. “You look beautiful tonight, (Y/N).”

You smiled and your heart pounded. “Thank you, Kili.”

“Of course. I hope this dance can begin to make up for the ones you spent alone that night.” He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, his large hand warm and gentle. “I wish I could have been there to make it right.”

“I wish you could have been there, too. You would have been an awesome date.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, of course. It’s not every night a girl gets to dance with a handsome prince.” The way you said it was kind of teasing, but you meant it. He really was handsome and he literally was a prince.

He chuckled, blushing at the sentiment. He was quiet for a while before he said, “It feels like you were meant to be here.”

“In Rivendell?”

“In Middle Earth.” Kili clarified. “With our company.”

“I was just talking to Balin about that, actually.”

Kili smiled kind of sadly before continuing. “You don’t think you’ll be able to stay, do you? When all of this is over?”

Your breath hitched and you met his eyes. “If I’m given the chance…I will. In a heartbeat. But I’m not sure if that’s how this works.”

“Okay.” Kili nodded, willing to accept that answer. “Well, for the record, I hope you do. Things would be boring without you around.”

“I hope so too.”

***

The days ran into one another, as did the weeks. You were accustomed to the road now. You spent most of your time riding with Kili, but every so often, you rode with some of the other Dwarves as well. Balin liked to trade stories with you, Dori and you would talk about what kinds of wine you preferred. They were all good company and they took care of you, looked after you.

Kili had been continuing his lessons in teaching you to shoot, and you’d made quite a bit of progress. Fili taught you to use a sword and how to properly put on armor. You had many long chats with Bilbo about the Shire and warned him to send him a message back home to ensure his family members didn’t sell his furniture while he was traveling back home.

You even got to know Thorin a bit, although he was still very guarded, especially to the two outsiders of the group. You knew eventually those walls would come down, but you also didn’t blame him for having them; he’d been through a lot.

It was night once again, and you were trying to sleep, but it was a particularly noisy night. The crickets were especially loud. Kili was taking the first watch with Fili, so, as he did whenever he was on watch, he put his extra blanket atop you to keep you warm.

“She’s so beautiful when she sleeps…” You heard Kili murmur to his brother, convinced you were out for the night.

“Have you told her yet?”

“That she’s beautiful? Yes, countless times, brother.” You could imagine the dwarf’s confident grin as he said it.

“Not that. Did you tell her that she’s…your One?”

Now that was news. You didn’t think Ones were a thing. Not as far as you knew. You were certain they were something cooked up by the fan community in your world, not something that was real.

You heard Kili sigh before replying, “I don’t even know how to begin to tell her that. Not when I don’t even know if she’ll still be here after we fight the dragon.”

“Then you should be making the most of the time you have with her while she’s here!” Fili whispered passionately. “Not every dwarf is so lucky, you know.”

“I know that.” Kili was quiet for a long moment before relenting, “I’ll tell her. As soon as I can figure out how.”

“Good.” Fili said, sounding proud of his efforts. “It seems she really cares for you, brother.”

And though you were tempted to say something, to break the silence and tell him then and there, you didn’t want the brothers to think you’d been eavesdropping. There would be a better time to tell him; you only hoped it would come sooner rather than later.

***

With your new revelation, every day became a new adventure, a waiting game in which you would see whether or not Kili would confess to you the way he felt for you. Looking back on all of the evidence, it seemed especially obvious. Right from the very beginning, he’d been enamored by you and the world you came from. Now you knew why.

This was, of course, alongside the usual adventure of running from monsters, in this case, a group of goblins. Although you knew it was important for Bilbo to get the ring, and it therefore needed to happen, you still weren’t particularly looking forward to it. The trolls, you had been able to evade with the logic that the elves in Rivendell would give you whatever weapons the dwarves would have recovered from the Troll cave anyway, which they had.

You’d all slept in a cave to escape the storm raging outside, bedrolls close together. Kili slept facing you. Every once in a while, you’d open your eyes and look at him, to make sure he was still there. One of those times, he was looking at you, too.

“Can’t sleep?” He whispered, his voice deep with exhaustion.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this cave…” You admitted, something sinking in the pit of your stomach. You felt bad for not telling them, but it had to happen and you knew if Thorin had known, you’d all have set up camp somewhere else.

“Mmm.” Kili hummed, nodding. He scooted his bedroll a bit closer to yours and your heart leapt in your chest. Maybe this would be the moment he’d tell you, finally, the thing you knew he’d been holding in for so long. “Well don’t worry your pretty head too much, Book Keeper. Whatever happens, you’ve got thirteen fiercely loyal dwarves here who will do anything to protect you.”

You nodded, exhaling a shaky breath.

“You never did tell me what that ring means.” Kili said, drawing attention to the claddagh ring, still wrapped around your finger. “That’s a beautiful emerald. Did someone from home give it to you?”

“It’s a claddagh ring. I don’t have one back home, but it just kind of…appeared on me when I got here.” You admitted. “I’ve always been fascinated by them. When you wear it like this, on the right hand with the point facing outwards, it means you’re looking for love, but you haven’t found it yet.”

He was quiet for a moment, nodding. His hand reached out, his fingers brushing yours, warm and calloused. They were warrior’s hands, and seeing his with your own just felt right. The contrast between you was perfect. “What would happen if you…found love?”

“Then you flip it over so the heart is upright.” You told him. “And if you get engaged, it moves to the other hand.”

“I quite like that.”

You chuckled softly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He smiled.

A cold wind blew into the cave and you shivered, pulling your blankets closer.

“Come here.” Kili’s hand wandered from yours and instead pulled you closer to him.

You surrendered to his warmth, to his scent of leather and campfire and pine. His hand cradled your head, combing through your hair with gentle fingers. It did calm you down enough to finally get some decent sleep for the night.

But just before you drifted off into slumber, you heard Kili whisper, “Sleep, Amrâlimê.”

And you did get a few hours of quiet peace before the floor of the cave opened up beneath you.

Thus began your long descent into the goblins’ cave. The company screamed all the way down until you were met by hundreds of terrifying goblins, shuffling you all to the feet of their king, a massive, horrifying thing who looked at you all like you were their next meal.

“What do we have here? Thieves? Spies? Assassins?” The king said. “Why are you here dwarves?” His eyes fell on you. “And an…elf?”

“Close enough.” You muttered, heart absolutely pounding in your chest. You were pretty sure you were about to pass out from the shock of it all.

“Bring the tall one to me. And search them all. Every crevice.” The king ordered, and one of his henchman kicked you in the back of the knees, forcing you to the ground with a pained yelp, dragging you over to their king, who hoisted you off of the ground by your hair.

“Don’t you dare touch her!” Kili yelled, struggling against the goblins that were holding him, but it didn’t seem to stop the other goblins from beginning to search you. “DON’T TOUCH HER! LET HER GO NOW!”

“Ohhhh, the youngest dwarf has a soft spot, does he?” The goblin king laughed, holding you in front of his face to get a closer look. “I can’t begin to see why.”

“Let me go, you big ugly bitch!” You squirmed, kicking the goblin king straight in the eye, causing him to flinch and drop you onto the ground, hard. You groaned and tried to get your bearings. Luckily, you were close enough to the dwarves that they were able to tug you back behind them. Gloin grabbed your leg and dragged you into the middle of the company again while Bifur and Bofur helped you to your feet. Your head hurt from the hair pulling.

“OW! She’s a feisty one.” The goblin king rubbed his eye and pointed at you with a hideous finger. “Fetch the torture devices. We’ll start with her.”

“Over my dead body you will.” Kili readied himself, eyes dark and voice as intense as rumbling thunder.

The other dwarves all took up a position of attack to protect you. Even though their weapons had been taken, they were still willing to fight for you.

But they didn’t get the chance to. At precisely the moment you needed him, Gandalf busted through the wall of the cave, stunning the goblins for a few moments with blinding light and giving the dwarves the chance to pick up their weapons.

The battle broke out. You did your best with the weapon Dwalin hastily shoved into your hand, but for the most part, you just followed the rest of the dwarves, keeping an eye on Kili and dodging the goblins that came at you. He fought harder than you had ever seen him, an intense fire burning in him. It was, perhaps, the scariest and most exhilarating experience of your entire life.

One of the goblins’ claws scratched your arm and you winced, swinging your sword at him and taking him out. The group reconvened on a bridge only for it to collapse beneath you, sending all of you plummeting, plummeting, plummeting down to the bottom of the cave. You laid there on your back, pretty sure this was what a cracked rib felt like. You sputtered and tried to lift your head from the hard surface beneath you.

“(Y/N)?” You heard Kili’s voice as the others began to get their bearings. He looked through the group, becoming more panicked by the second. “(Y/N)?!”

“I’m here.” You groaned weakly, raising your hand so he could find you. “I’m okay.”

“Thank Mahal.” He let out a relieved sigh walking to you and helping you to your feet. “A-are you hurt?”

“I’m okay.” You nodded, out of breath with tears in your eyes. Your knees wobbled, but he held you upright, supporting your weight. Then your eyes widened, remembering. You looked up and sure enough, more goblins were climbing down towards you. “We have to go.”

“Towards the daylight!” Gandalf insisted, leading the charge out of the cave and into the light of the nearly setting sun.

Once you all were finally able to stop, you collapsed to your knees, catching your breath. Kili knelt beside you, looking you over.

“I’m okay.” You told him. “I’m nauseous and definitely bruised a bit, but I’m okay. Are you?”

He reached up and brushed the hair out of your face, his hand pulling your face down towards him. He rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and letting out a long, shaking sigh. “I’m okay now.”

“Gandalf, um…” You reached into your pack and pulled out the book, using your bookmark to open to the chapter you’d all arrived at, still quite out of breath from the whole ordeal, but still focused on the adventure and the group’s safety. “You might want to call the Eagles now.”

“A very good call, Book Keeper.” Gandalf nodded, counting the dwarves before getting a moth’s attention.

You looked around the group and noticed one was missing. Bilbo. “Guys, where’s Bilbo?”

“I think he slipped away before the goblins grabbed us.” Nori said while the others started frantically looking around for him.

“I knew it. I knew he’d run right back home at the nearest opportunity.” Thorin said, shaking his head. “We will not be seeing our hobbit again. He is long gone.”

“No. He isn’t.” Bilbo walked out from behind a tree, appearing seemingly from nowhere. “I fell into a cavern. It was difficult to find a way out. I’m sorry.”

Thorin hesitated for a moment before looking at Bilbo. “My apologies. I just thought—”

“I know what you thought. I’m…not quite acclimated to this lifestyle. I miss my books and my reading chair and my hobbit hole. That’s my home. That’s why I’m here. Because you don’t have one; it was taken from you. And if I can…I want to help you take it back.”

The company shared a long, warm moment in the sun, which was interrupted by the sound of the wargs on the horizon.

You groaned. “Great. Right on schedule.”

“You knew—” Fili realized.

“Yep.” You nodded, exhaling a breath. Kili pulled you to your feet. “I know a lot I’m not supposed to.”

“Out of the frying pan…” Thorin started, his voice wary of the oncoming danger.

“And into the fire.” Gandalf motioned forward. “Run!”

So, once again, you were on the move, running to the edge of the cliff, away from the angry, snarling beasts on your trail. The group climbed up pine trees and just before the wargs arrived at the base of the tree, so did the Eagles.

“A very good call indeed, Book Keeper.” Thorin praised.

You chuckled. “Thought the group might prefer to not be torn apart by giant wolves.”

You got onto the back of one of the eagles, followed quickly by Fili and Kili, whose arm fastened around you, holding you in place. You looked at him as soon as he touched you, not quite surprised it was him. It always seemed to be him.

“Breathe, Amrâlimê.” He spoke softly, the word cradled so gently on his tongue. “You can breathe now. I won’t let you fall.”

“Okay.” You nodded, adjusting to a slightly more stable position on the eagle, your arm wrapping around his back for extra support. You took in the sights of Middle Earth. It was absolutely gorgeous from this high up, especially now that you were up and out of harm’s way.

“Are you okay?” he asked again.

You nodded and looked at him, admiring the way the sunset framed his features. Leaning forward, you pressed your forehead against his and closed your eyes for a long moment, repeating his sentiment from earlier. “I’m okay now.”

“Good.”

It was quiet for a long moment before you asked quietly. “What does that word mean?”

“Oh…it’s not in your fancy book?” He teased, a cheeky smirk gracing his handsome face.

“It’s not.” You confirmed.

His eyes softened, the wind blowing through his silky dark hair. “I think you know what it means.”

You tilted your head, eyes exploring his own. “I think I do too…”

***

A few hours later, the company arrived at Beorn’s house, tucked into the woods. Gandalf went with Bilbo first, instructing the rest of you to come in small groups spaced about five minutes apart, as to not overwhelm the skin-changer with guests all at once.

Finally, you rolled up your sleeve to look at the cut on your arm. It didn’t look deep, but it did look dirty. You didn’t even want to know where that goblin’s claws had been. If you weren’t careful, you’d get an infection.

“Let me see it, girl.” Balin said, motioning you over. You walked to him and sat on a large rock, letting him look over the wound. “He got you good, didn’t he?”

“Looks like it, yeah. It doesn’t hurt too bad anymore.”

“You’re hurt?” Kili asked from somewhere behind you.

“She’s alright, Kili.” Balin assured the prince, a knowing twinkle in his eye. “We’ll get her cleaned up, lad.”

Fili pulled Kili off to the side while Balin and Oin tended to your arm, putting a disinfectant that stung pretty bad on it before wrapping it in gauze.

“Thank you.” You told them sincerely.

“And thank you. I have a feeling our injuries would have been a lot worse had you not told Gandalf to call the Eagles when he did.”

“Yeah, I figured the rest of the journey would probably be a bit easier if I didn’t get a leg ripped off by a giant wolf.” You chuckled, shrugging.

“How are things with Kili?” Balin asked, his voice incredibly quiet.

You glanced over to where Kili and Fili were standing, talking very passionately about something. They were definitely out of earshot, though.

“Can you keep a secret?” You asked him, heart racing.

Balin nodded, his eyes kind. “Of course, dear.”

You took a breath and let the words fall out of your mouth all at once. “I think I’m falling in love with him.”

Bofur perked up when he heard this, turning around with a huge grin on his face. “I knew it! I heard you two last night having a little chat.”

“I forgot you were on watch.” You chuckled, cheeks burning. “I…I don’t know. I think he feels the same, but—”

“He feels the same.” Balin took your hand in both of his. “I’ve known that lad for his entire life and I’ve never seen him so enamored with anyone before.”

Bofur agreed. “Seems he had a rather rude awakening when the goblins almost had their way with you.”

“Yeah…” You thought back on that moment. You’d never seen him yell like that before, never so angry, and all because you were in danger.

“We already consider you one of us, lassie. Not just anyone would be brave enough to kick a goblin king in the eye.” Dwalin said, coming from behind you and putting a strong hand on your shoulder. “And if you feel strongly for him, you should ask him to court.”

Your eyes widened. Ah yes, the ever-elusive dwarven courting customs. “How do I do that? No one’s ever explained it to me.”

The other dwarves chuckled.

“That explains a lot.” Bofur smirked. “Tell you what, we’ll—”

“(Y/N), Fili and I are leaving.” Kili told you, motioning in the direction of Beorn’s house. “Would you like to come with us or wait for the next group?”

You looked at Balin, who nodded, encouraging you to go.

“Go with the lads. We’ll speak yet.” He promised.

You walked with Kili, glancing back at the three of the dwarves who now knew exactly how you felt about their prince. You only hoped it wouldn’t spread through the rest of the group like wildfire.

***

When the next morning came, Beorn, who was a spectacle in and of himself, served a hearty breakfast for you, Gandalf, Bilbo, and the dwarves. It was a beautiful morning, fog lingering in the trees, sunlight streaming through it.

For the first time in a long time, you felt utterly safe. You knew nothing would happen while you were at Beorn’s house. In Mirkwood shortly after…that was a different story altogether. But for the day, you were safe from goblins and wargs and whatever else was lurking out in the distance.

Part of you wondered if Bilbo had gotten the ring, if it had been worth not warning the others of the perils of that specific cave, but you knew you couldn’t ask him. Not now at least.

You sipped a mug of warm tea Gandalf had made for you, its steam gently waking you up. The mug was very large, as was everything in Beorn’s house, which seemed to make the dwarves look impossibly small, and, you hated to admit it, very cute.

“You sleep okay?” Kili asked, mouth half-full of scrambled eggs.

You nodded. “I slept fine. Did have some weird dreams, though.”

“About what?” Fili asked, perking up.

“I was at a school for wizards in this massive castle and the stairs were moving and I couldn’t get to class.” You told them, chuckling. Maybe Hogwarts was real too, somewhere. After all, Middle Earth was.

“We almost got killed by goblins and you’re having nightmares about school?” Bofur asked, incredulous.

“She’s taking this Book Keeper thing to new heights.” Ori added, laughing.

“I’ve been out of school for almost a whole year now and I’m still having nightmares about it.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “I really don’t think they’ll ever stop.”

“How long are humans from your realm in school?” Dori asked.

“We start school around age five, sometimes sooner. We graduate high school at eighteen, and then if we choose to go to college after, most graduate around twenty-two or twenty-three.” You told them, causing Kili to promptly choke on his drink. “Are you okay?”

“How old did you say you were?” Fili checked again, his eyes wide.

Dwalin slapped Kili’s back until he regained his composure.

Thinking about it further, you weren’t sure age had ever come up with the dwarves. “I’m twenty-three. Why?”

They all shared looks between each other, some laughing softly, others looking genuinely shocked.

“Guys, are you okay? How old are you?” You asked, heart racing. “Dwalin, how old are you?”

“I’m a hundred and sixty-nine years, lassie.” He said.

“Oh my god.” You muttered softly, a hand on your mouth. “Seriously? The whole time?”

“He’s being genuine, Book Keeper. Dwarf aging is quite different than that of men.” Balin told you, trying to be gentle.

“I’m only eighty-two if that makes you feel better.” Fili offered, his eyes sincere.

You stared at him. “It does not.”

“And on that happy note, I believe I’ll borrow the Burglar and the Book Keeper for a moment.” Gandalf said, a mischievous smile on his face as he stood from the head of the table.

“Perfect timing.” You said, grabbing your mug and following after him. Bilbo walked beside you, so you looked down and asked. “How old are you?”

“I’m fifty-one.” Bilbo replied.

“See, that seems more reasonable.” You laughed, still in disbelief. “A hundred and sixty-nine…”

Gandalf led the two of you to Beorn’s gardens, which were quite lush and beautiful, filled with all manner of plants. A few chickens wandered the property and wildflowers grew along his cobblestone fence.

Bilbo bent down and picked an acorn off of the ground, tucking it into his pocket. You grinned. Cute.

“I’m merely here to check your progress. How is everything going?”

“Well, I’d say.” Bilbo said, sounding a bit unsure. He looked up at you for insight.

“We’re looking good on my end.” You nodded. “These next few days are going to be rough, though.”

“Undoubtedly.” Gandalf nodded. “The two of you should…formulate a plan together before leaving for Mirkwood. I’m sure some teamwork could help smooth things over.”

“I think so too.” You nodded.

“Excellent. Discuss. I will see you in Erebor.”

“Where are you going?” Bilbo asked.

“I have some unavoidable business to attend to, I’m afraid. But all of you are in good hands.” Gandalf assured him, nodding before walking back into the house to say goodbye to the other dwarves.

As soon as you and Bilbo were alone, you asked him, “Did you get it?”

He looked puzzled. “Did I get what?”

You wiggled your ring finger, holding up your ring.

He thought for a moment and then nodded, confirming. “I did, yes. Was I supposed to?”

“Yes. Good.” You exhaled a sigh of relief. “Don’t tell the others. But…you’ll need to use it on occasion. As you see appropriate. I don’t want to make you overthink it.”

“Good. Alright.” Bilbo nodded, considering. “What was this working together Gandalf was talking about?”

***

When night fell, some of the dwarves started a fire. Balin and Bofur pulled you aside. Kili and Fili were off scouting the edge of the property to make sure nothing was coming for the group, giving you the perfect opportunity for a lesson.

“What do you know of dwarvish courting, Book Keeper?” Bofur asked. “Anything?”

“Admittedly, not a lot. I know there’s braiding involved, but that’s about it.”

“That’s a good start, lass.” Balin smiled. “So, when a courtship begins, generally, the dwarrowdam, or, the woman, in this case, will ask the dwarf she fancies if she can braid his hair.”

“They make a courting bead to present to them, to braid into the hair. Something meaningful.” Bofur added.

“Okay.” You nodded, taking in the information.

“If he feels the same way, usually he’ll already have made a courting bead and will present it to her in return. If he doesn’t have it ready quite yet, he’ll present it to her as soon as it is.” Balin explained. “But the woman is always the one to initiate, unless, of course, it’s two men, in which case the oldest of the two will begin the courting.”

“And then they’ll go off somewhere private and braid the beads into each other’s hair. It’s quite romantic.” Bofur smiled.

You stared at the ring around your finger, the claddagh ring you’d carried with you the entire journey, the one Kili seemed so fascinated by. You thought it would look rather beautiful braided into Kili’s dark hair. “Would…um…” You slipped it off of your finger and handed it to Bofur. “Would this work? As a courting bead? I’d have to resize it of course, but…”

He smiled knowingly. “This is the special ring you explained to him in the cave?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“I think that would be perfect, dear.” Balin nodded. “We can teach you how to make the bead once we get to Erebor.”

“Okay, perfect. It won’t be long now.” You told them. “This next leg of the journey is going to be rough, as a heads-up.”

“That’s what I feared.” The eldest dwarf nodded.

Bofur handed you back the ring and you put it on again. “We’re in good hands, though.”

You nodded, serious. “I’ll do my best.”

***

The next day, you all stood at the gates of Mirkwood and a sinking feeling settled deep in the pit of your stomach. You did not like this. Not one bit.

“Are you alright?” Kili asked, his hand on your arm. “You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I know more than I’m supposed to again.” You told him, your voice soft, scared.

He looked up at you, taking a step closer. “Anything you can tell me?”

“Not at the moment, no.” You shook your head. You turned towards him, suddenly more serious and remembering something from the Hobbit movies you’d seen long ago. Up until this point, everything had been by the book as far as you knew. But in the case that something leaked over… “So, if, um…theoretically of course, if there’s a bunch of orcs shooting at us at some point on our way out of Mirkwood, don’t take any chances that would let you get shot in the leg with a poisonous arrow, okay?”

Kili’s eyes widened. “What? I’m—”

“It probably won’t happen. Most likely. But there’s one version of the story where it does and I just…I don’t know what I’d do if you—”

“I won’t.” Kili grabbed your arms with his large hands, stopping your rambling. “I promise you I won’t take any chances that would let that happen.”

You nodded, exhaling a sigh. “Okay. Good.”

“Does anything like that happen to me?” Fili asked, scared suddenly.

“No.” You assured him. “I’d tell you if it would. I’m not letting any of you die.”

You all set out through the gates, doing your best to stick to the paths. Things got very disorienting very quickly, however.

The group began to wander, confused, forgetting things and losing track of time. All hints of what direction you were going were gone, so you followed whichever dwarf happened to be in front of you at any given moment.

After a short time, you began to question everything. It was hard to tell how much time passed. You all wandered, going in circles, the dwarves bickering between themselves about which way was which. You felt utterly dizzy, confused and unable to ground yourself in the moment.

“(Y/N), are you in your right mind right now?” Bilbo asked you, grabbing your attention.

“Not particularly.” You admitted, shaking your head. “Do what you have to do. I’ll see you on the other side. Stick to the plan.”

“Plan, what plan?” Ori asked.

“There’s a plan?”

“What’s a plan?”

They went around and around while Bilbo climbed up into the trees to get a bearing on where you were. Most of them didn’t even realize he had left. And the next thing you knew in your bleary state, there were gigantic spiders descending upon all of you.

***

When you came to, Bilbo had cut you and the others free from where you’d been suspended up in the trees, the webs encasing you sticky and disgusting. You used your dagger to slice your way out of them and get to your feet, taking a head count of everyone that was present. All of the dwarves accounted for.

There were hordes of spiders, giant and covered in fur. You fought your way through a few, counting dwarves every second.

When you spotted Kili, however, he was pinned beneath a giant, shrieking spider. You drew an arrow and shot it quickly, putting to use the archery skills that very dwarf had spent hours teaching you. The spider slumped over top of him and Kili kicked it off of himself, looking to see who’d shot it and unsurprised to find that it was you.

He hurried over, a proud glimmer in his eye. “I told you we’d make an archer of you.”

“And it seems you were right.” You laughed, you eye tracking movement in your peripheral. There were more spiders, yes, but there were also elves, plenty of them, and they were coming in hot.

You looked around for Bilbo, but didn’t find him.

“What’s wrong?” Kili asked.

“Do you trust me?”

“Always.” He answered without hesitation.

“I have to go. We have a plan.” You leaned in and kissed Kili’s cheek, causing him to look up at you, dumbstruck.

A grin slowly spread across his face, processing the first kiss between the two of you. “Be safe.”

“I’ll find you soon.” You promised and took off into the trees, just in time to evade the elves who were apprehending the rest of the dwarves.

From your place up on a branch, you kept an eye on Kili as they hauled him and the rest of the company away, and you caught sight of Bilbo in another. He nodded at you and you returned the signal, waiting for the elves to all leave before meeting him down on the forest floor.

“I’ll go in with you and steal one of their uniforms, change, and then linger outside their cells until you get to us. The guards will be drunk tonight because of the festival. They should be drowsy enough that you can get the keys without too much trouble. On your way up to the rest of us, split the keys in half and I’ll unlock half of the doors to get them out faster.”

“Smart thinking.” Bilbo agreed.

“We’ll have to give them some time to get inside and out of our way before we can head inside. In the book, they’re held here for a few days. I think we can get them out in one.”

“Ambitious,” he said, thinking over the plans. “Ah, right. Well, if you don’t mind me asking since we have some time, are you and Kili…?”

“Seems to be the question on everyone’s minds.” You laughed. “Um. No, not yet. Not officially anyway. Balin and Bofur gave me a lesson on dwarvish courting rituals, though, so I kind of know what I’m doing now.”

He grinned. “Moving on up in the world, eh?”

“Something like that.” You shrugged, sitting for a moment and resting your cheek against your knee. “I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone this much before, Bilbo. I genuinely don’t know what I’d do if something happened to him.”

“That’s how you know it’s real, I think. That fear might protect you.” Bilbo said, wise from the journey. “Might protect him, too.”

“I can only hope so.”

***

Breaking into the elves’ fortress in Mirkwood was easier with a hobbit as a companion, you decided. Bilbo was good at going unnoticed, but especially so when he could sneak into the armory invisibly and retrieve Silvan elf armor for you. You slipped into it quickly, entrusting your bag of things to Bilbo for the moment until you’d be reunited with him.

Then, you went up to the cells where they were holding the dwarves, careful to calm your pace. For the first time in your journey, your pointed ears came in handy. You were able to sneak past any elf you passed without question. They thought you were one of them.

“You there, will you not join the festivities?” An elf asked you. Upon closer inspection, this was Legolas, his blond hair and Orlando Bloom complexion unmistakable. Oh shit.

You did a double-take. “Oh, Prince Legolas. I was going to see the prisoners before joining.” You smirked. “Not every day we have thirteen dwarves in our custody. I’m rather curious.”

“An unusual day indeed. I’ll admit, they are rather…interesting creatures.” He agreed, laughing. “I’ll save you a dance, then.”

“I’d be honored, my prince.” You curtsied, holding your posture carefully before walking past him without any further questioning. You chuckled. Little did he know the only prince that had your attention was a dwarven one.

You reached the hall where the cells were not long after that, looking into the doors and counting. Ori, Dori, Nori, check. Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, check. Balin and Dwalin and Oin and Gloin, check, and finally, Thorin, Fili, and Kili.

Fili was the first to notice you. He stood there for a long moment, staring at you, his eyebrows furrowed. It couldn’t be you, could it? Not dressed like that, surely. Perhaps his eyes were playing tricks on him, despite the fact that they’d only been there for a few hours.

“(Y/N)?” Fili asked, his voice hushed. “Is that you?”

You turned to face him, keeping the stiff elven posture you’d adopted to fit in. You smirked. “I put on some elf armor and suddenly you don’t recognize me, Fee? I’m offended.”

At the sound of your voice, Kili rushed to the bars of his cell. “Amrâlimê!”

You walked to his cell and rested your hands on his. “I told you I’d find you.”

“Where’s Bilbo?” Thorin asked from the next cell over.

“Grabbing the keys.” You told him. “And then we’re busting out of this place.”

“Were you spotted?” Nori wondered.

“Walked right past every elf I saw. They think I’m one of them.” You shrugged, tucking your hair behind one of your pointed ears. “Even managed to trick their prince. He’s up at the festival saving me a dance as we speak.”

You didn’t miss the tiny jealous grunt that left Kili’s throat at the mention of another prince, but you didn’t address it either.

Dwalin let out a proud, bellowing laugh. “Well done, lassie!”

You shrugged. “These ears of mine finally came in handy for something.”

“I happen to think they suit you.” Kili said, looking up at you. He looked so impossibly small in his cage.

Your heart ached. You couldn’t wait to get him out of there. “Is that so?”

“I happen to think most things suit you, actually.” He amended, a flirty grin on his face.

“Don’t get too comfortable, Miss Elf Guard.” Bilbo teased, tossing you a set of keys. “We have some dwarves to free.”

You quickly found the key to Kili’s door and unlocked it, followed immediately by the rest of the dwarves on your side of the hallway. The two of you led the others all the way down to the cellar, to the barrels Bilbo had located. You had almost forgotten this part of the adventure. And if it wasn’t too deadly and terrifying, it might actually be pretty fun.

“Are you sure about this, lad?” One of the dwarves protested as they started climbing inside the barrels.

“Trust me.” Bilbo said, looking to you for support. “Trust us.”

“This is one of the best parts in the book.” You told them. “It’ll all work out. I promise. It might even be fun.”

“There might be room for two in this one,” Kili told you, scouting the biggest barrel.

“I don’t know if it could support both of our weight.” You reasoned, thinking quickly. “And we have to get going so the Elves don’t stop us.”

You climbed into the big barrel, preparing yourself for the plummet downwards.

Kili nodded and climbed into the barrel beside yours, his hand reaching out and touching yours.

“Hold your breath.” Bilbo warned, pulling the lever and sending the barrels rolling down into the water tunnels beneath the castle. He took your tip about the floor and came down moments later, gripping the rope on Thorin’s barrel.

“Well done, you two.” Thorin praised. “You never cease to amaze me.”

“He would have figured it out without me, just for the record.” You told him. “Maybe just a little slower.”

You all started paddling, getting out of the elven tunnels a few minutes later, under cover of night. The stars were quite beautiful. You couldn’t help but stare at them, trying to recognize constellations in the still-unfamiliar sky.

“No sign of orcs.” Kili pointed out. “Nor poisoned arrows.”

“Good. Let’s hope it stays that way.” You chuckled, paddling beside him. Bilbo was still swimming alongside one of the other barrels. “Bilbo, there’s room in mine.”

“You don’t think I’ll sink you?”

“You’re lighter than I am.” You pointed out.

He couldn’t argue with that logic. Fili and Kili both helped hoist Bilbo into your barrel for the rest of the fairly smooth ride. There were a few dips and small waterfalls every so often, but the current wasn’t too harsh.

“Is it like this in the book?” Gloin asked and you nodded.

“Yeah. In fact, in the book, there are lids on the barrels. But it’s, uh, harder to steer that way.”

“I was going to put lids on them?” Bilbo asked, incredulous. “Thank you for steering me away from that option, Book Keeper.”

“That’s my job.” You chuckled, making the most of the ride until, eventually, it ended and the group pulled their barrels onto the shore.

“How’s our progress?” Thorin checked.

“We’re ahead of schedule. Our ride into Laketown won’t be here until tomorrow morning or afternoon.” You told him. “We were actually supposed to be in that elven prison for a few more days, so…we’ve got some time to get our bearings. And we won’t have to cut it so close hiking up to Erebor.”

The king grinned. “Excellent. Great work.” He turned to the rest of the company. “Set up camp for the night. Eat some food. Tomorrow, we journey to Laketown.”

You helped the others unpack some of the belongings, drying out things that had gotten wet. You scrunched your hair, draining it of excess water, and set out a bedroll for whenever you settled down. It was dark, but you couldn’t exactly tell how late it was.

Some of the others started a fire to dry themselves and cook dinner, which was whatever fish had slipped into their barrels on the way there. You found a private spot and changed out of the elven armor into your sleeping attire before returning to the group.

Kili was sitting near the fire, his bedroll now set out beside yours, and two plates of food in his lap. You sat beside him and he handed the extra plate to you, which you were grateful for. It had been a long few days, or however long had passed while you were trapped in those wretched spider-infested forests, and you were hungry.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” He nodded. The two of you were quiet for a long time before he finally asked a question you could tell had been eating at him for a bit. “What would have happened if…theoretically, I had been shot with that poisonous orc arrow?”

“Hard to say. In the version of the story where that happened…you were pretty injured from it, got progressively sicker and sicker and then when the company left for Erebor, you had to stay behind.”

“Oh.” He looked at you, his eyes serious. “I would have died, wouldn’t I?”

“No.” You shook your head. Not at that moment, you thought darkly, keeping it to yourself. “Well…it’s difficult to say, because in that version, you caught the eye of a very beautiful elf warrior. She healed you before you died from the poison. And she’s not here, so I…I really don’t know what would have happened.”

“Well…” He processed the information for a moment before a soft, tender look overtook his face. “I did happen to catch the eye of another woman with elf-like ears this time around. I think I prefer this one, actually.”

“I can’t heal you if you get poisoned.” You reasoned, insecurity eating at you, despite the lack of competition. You hadn’t seen Tauriel in Mirkwood, which probably meant she didn’t exist. Probably. She wasn’t in the book, after all, but neither were a lot of the other details you’d lived through that Tolkien had seemed to skim over in his version.

He took your hand in both of his, calling your full attention to him. “Maybe not, but…you did prevent me from being poisoned at all, which, I would argue, is better.” One of his hands wandered up to your cheek and you caught his eyes lingering on your lips for a long moment before he said. “You gave me this earlier, and I’ve been meaning to give it back to you.”

You watched him, curious. “What?”

Kili moved closer and pressed a long, lingering kiss to your cheek, causing your face to flush with warmth. He whispered, his voice deep and gentle, “Thank you for letting me borrow it.”

***

The next day, just as you had predicted, Bard found your group on the banks of the river. He was defensive at first, but eventually granted the group travel into town in exchange for whatever gold you all could scrape together.

For the first part of the voyage, you were all able to wander about the ship. You pulled out your Polaroid, assessing the damages it had incurred thus far. Part of you expected it to be totally busted, its parts flooded in your ride down the river, but it was functional. Maybe Gandalf had enchanted it to be indestructible.

“Is it broken?” Bofur asked, curious.

“I don’t think so, actually. I definitely thought it would be after everything it’s been through.” You chuckled, holding it in position and snapping a picture of him. A few moments later, it spit the picture out the front. You handed it to him and he watched as it developed.

“Fascinating little thing.” Bofur noted, tilting his head.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool.” You agreed, tucking it back into your bag.

“Couldn’t happen but notice you and the young prince last night.” Bofur smirked, mischief in his smile. “We’re still on for your smithing lesson, then?”

“As soon as possible, yes.” You nodded. A nervous laugh wrenched its way out of your lips. “I don’t know why I’m so scared.”

“It’s a big moment. I don’t blame you for being a little nervous. But it’s very obvious to me and,” he laughed, “well, everyone else that the lad cares for you. And I, for one, happen to think you’d make a lovely addition to the family.”

“Thank you, Bofur.” You wrapped your arms around your bag, cradling it to you. “I think I needed to hear that.”

“Book Keeper, if I might have a word.” Thorin said, motioning you to the front of the ship.

You nodded and stood from your spot, walking up to meet him. You noticed Kili was sitting on a crate at the back of the boat, his legs dangling from it. He appeared to be working on something very small, but you couldn’t tell what it was from where you were.

“What’s on your mind, your highness?” You asked, standing beside him, staring out into the fog.

“I’ve heard murmurs of something within the company, I was hoping you would confirm or deny them.” Thorin started, looking amused. “I don’t think it should be news to you that my nephew cares for you, yes?”

“I care for him as well, Thorin.” You assured him.

“Mmm.” Thorin nodded. “I hoped as much. I just ask that…if you do not wish to court him, don’t string him along. The boy has had his heart broken too many times. This time, though, I feel he would never recover from it.”

“When we get to Erebor, Balin and Bofur are going to help me make a courting bead.” You told him. “I should have told you long before now, but I never found the time or opportunity.”

Thorin grinned. His hand came to rest on your shoulder, the other resting on his belt. “That is most excellent news. Do you know how you’ll be making it, yet?”

“I don’t know the specifics. I’ve never smithed anything in my life.” You shook your head. “In my realm, smithing isn’t as prominent as it is here. But I was planning to use this.” You held up your hand, showing him the ring. “Balin and Bofur said it should be something sentimental. This ring is usually used to show relationship status in my realm.”

“I heard you discussing it with him the night of the goblins.” Thorin smiled softly. “I didn’t get very much sleep that night either. I think that would work quite well as a courting bead.” He met your eyes, his gaze sincere. This was perhaps the first time you’d connected with the king on a personal level on the entire journey, but you were glad you were finally getting the opportunity. “After everything you’ve done for us, I would be honored to have you as my niece.”

Your breath got caught in your throat, tears pricking your eyes. “You have no idea how much it means to hear you say that.”

“We’re approaching the gates!” Bard warned. “Get back in the barrels.”

With some protest, the dwarves got back into the barrels they’d come there in. You started to climb into the barrel beside Thorin’s, but Bard stopped you.

“You won’t need to. Just cover those ears of yours.” He told you.

You nodded, using your hair to cover their extended points, looking to Bifur to ask if they were covered. He gave you a thumbs-up before ducking back into his barrel. You inhaled nervously and settled yourself as casually as you could on a crate in the corner of the boat.

It was then that several pounds of fish were dumped on top of the dwarves. You cringed for their sake. You had a feeling this was going to be a very smelly evening indeed. You heard a few quiet groans from them, but otherwise, they remained silent, hoping not to blow their cover.

Next, Bard took the ship to the entrance of town, where he was stopped by the gate keeper. He initially was approved to enter until the disgusting little weasel Alfrid decided to pay a visit.

“Oi! Who’s the girl?” He asked, his unibrow scrunching as he looked you up and down. God, he was even more disgusting in person somehow. You were hoping he wouldn’t be real, but it seemed Tolkien had skimmed over him in the book as well. You couldn’t say you blamed him.

“She’s paid her passage. Therefore, she’s entering town.”

“Now, now, now, no one gets into my town without a more…thorough investigation, let’s say.” Alfrid rubbed his sleazy little hands together and you did your best not to gag at the mere thought of him touching you.

“You will not put your hands on her.” Bard said, defending you. “If you so much as breathe on her, I’ll see to it that the whole town knows.”

Alfrid seemed to contemplate this before relenting. “Fine, but if she steps even a toe out of line, she’ll be sleeping in the dungeons.”

“And she won’t.” Bard assured him, seeming annoyed. Not long after, the boat continued, through the narrow waterways to an alley between some buildings. Bard started dumping barrels full of fish-covered dwarves. He instructed them on how to swim under his house and up through the toilet.

“Count yer blessings, lass.” Dwalin muttered before jumping in.

“Oh believe me, I am.” You grimaced at the strong fishy smell wafting from your companions. Once they were all out of the boat, you went with Bard through the front door of his house, met immediately by his daughters and his son.

“Da, who is this?”

“A traveler.” Bard replied. “Bain, get them in.”

Bard’s son walked down the stairs and signaled the Dwarves to start coming into the house.

“If you speak a word of this to anyone, I’ll rip your arms off,” Dwalin threatened, coming out of the murky waters first.

“Why are there dwarves coming out of the toilet?” Bard’s oldest daughter wondered.

“Will they bring us luck?” The youngest asked.

“I can assure you, they are very lucky.” You told her. “They’ve brought me nothing but luck, in fact.”

Kili walked up to you, sopping wet, his clothes and hair thoroughly soaked. You couldn’t help but chuckle a little at his pitiful state, handing him a towel. He buried his face in it before using it to scrunch his wet hair.

“Not feeling so lucky at the moment, however.” Kili muttered. He handed the towel back to you and started ringing out his shirt, water splattering on the floor. “He didn’t touch you, did he?”

“Who?”

“That…sleazy gate keeper man.” Kili looked pissed.

“Alfrid.” Bard’s eldest daughter said, rolling her eyes. “He disgusts me.”

“Yeah, same.” You agreed with her and looked down to Kili, who wouldn’t make eye contact with you, instead, his eyes were fixed on his dark blue shirt, ringing excess water out of it. “He didn’t touch me. He didn’t even come near me.”

“Good.” He nodded, his eyes still serious.

“I’m pretty sure if he’d have breathed on me I would have puked on the spot.” You joked, which did get him to smile again.

“Is he that hideous?” The dwarven prince finally dared to look up at you, a mischievous glimmer in his eye.

“Literally the ugliest person I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

“Truly gruesome.” Bard’s daughter agreed, cringing. She looked at you and offered her hand. “I’m Sigrid, by the way.”

“(Y/N),” you introduced. “This is Kili.”

The dwarf in question did a little bow. “At your service.”

Bard came into the room, carrying a variety of tools and makeshift weapons. He set them on the table all at once.

“Oh no, these will not do at all.” The dwarves started going through them harshly.

“We need iron-forged weapons! Not fishing supplies.” Gloin shook his head.

“All of the weapons in town are held under lock and key in the armory.” Bard told them. “These are the best I can do.”

“Book Keeper?” Balin looked to you for advice.

“Um, let me check.” You reached into your bag and pulled out the thin paperback book you’d been referencing the entire time. You used the table of contents to flip to the chapter about Laketown. “Okay, so um, under cover of night, you sneak into the armory to take the weapons, you get caught, but when you tell the Master and the rest of the town about the quest, they celebrate and give you weapons and a feast and a place to stay.”

“What is that book?” Bard asked. “Is she a Seer?”

“Not quite. Just a…reader, I suppose.” You shrugged. “I’m from a place where all of this is a story.”

“A feast sounds quite nice…” Fili raised an eyebrow. Bombur nodded in fierce agreement.

“Then we do what the Book Keeper says.” Thorin nodded at you, grateful for your guidance. “We leave at nightfall. Ready yourselves in the meantime.”

***

The dwarves set out to retrieve the weapons sometime after dark. You stayed at Bard’s house with his kids, waiting nervously to hear the commotion in the middle of town begin. Bard, obviously, had quite a few questions for you.

“You’ve been traveling with them? For how long?”

“Quite a while. Almost half a year now.” You said, just now realizing how long it had been. “It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long, though. They’re a lot. They’re loud and kind of messy sometimes, but…they’re fiercely loyal. They’ve saved my life more times than I can count. I really do consider them family.”

“You knew I’d find you on the bank of that river, then?” He asked, his dark eyebrows furrowing.

“I was counting on it.”

“Interesting.” He nodded.

“How long have you known the younger one? Kili, I think his name is.” Sigrid asked.

“I’ve known of him for years. I’ve known of all of you for years, actually. But I met him at the same time as the rest of them, why?”

“You two seem to have known each other for ages.” She sighed. “The way he looks at you…It’s like there are a million stars in his eyes.”

“Oh I know.” You laughed softly. “Once we get to Erebor, I’m finally going to do something about it.”

A call came from the center of town, echoing into the distance. “Explain yourselves, dwarves!”

“Oop, there it is.”

“Just as she said…” Bain mumbled, thoroughly impressed.

You got up and rushed to the door, following the crowds of people into town, where the dwarves were being held by guards. You were careful to cover your pointed ears just in case their attention wandered to you, but you were sure the rest of the townsfolk were pretty well distracted.

“I am Thorin! Son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the mountain! I have come to reclaim our home from the dragon Smaug!” Thorin declared, fire in his eyes. He really did sound like a king when he spoke like that. You got chills up your spine just listening to him.

The crowd began to murmur about a prophecy, the word whispered amongst them. The Master perked up at this. He, like his lackey Alfrid, was absolutely grotesque, any sliver of dignity eaten away by his immense greed.

“If we succeed in our quest, we will share our bounty with Laketown.” Thorin promised. You knew when you all actually arrived in Erebor, that might change, but you hoped you’d be able to convince him to keep his word. “You have my word. All we ask is weapons and shelter until we make our leave.”

The Master thought about it for a long moment before he made his decision. “Welcome to Laketown, dwarves! Let us eat, drink, and be merry to celebrate their quest to reclaim Erebor!”

The townsfolk all cheered and the guards finally let go of the dwarves. You walked to Kili, who looked up at you with stars in his eyes, just the way Sigrid had described. It sent warmth blossoming through your stomach.

“You always seem to be right, Amrâlimê.” He murmured, his arms settling around your waist and pulling you close to him.

“I wonder why that is.” You chuckled, arms wrapping around him as well. You tilted his head up towards you with a gentle hand. “Everything go okay? Well, until…you know.”

“More than okay.” Kili smiled that boyish grin of his. It was at times like these that it was hard for you to believe he was hiding seventy-seven years behind that youthful face. “I cannot wait to get to Erebor.”

“It’s close now, isn’t it?”

“Very much so.” He nodded, pressing up on his toes to kiss your cheek before tugging you into the pub, where the rest of the group was beginning the celebrations.

Musicians were in the corner, playing lively lake shanties, the bartenders were slinging drinks faster than you could comprehend, and there was more food than you’d seen since the group left Rivendell so long ago. You settled into a seat in the corner, at a table with Fili, Bofur, and Kili, the last of whom left to grab drinks. While Kili was away, Fili leaned forward to speak to you over the noise.

“(Y/N), would you visit the market with me tomorrow?” He asked, feigning innocence. You suspected there was something going on, but you didn’t call him out on it.

“Yeah, of course, Fili. Shopping for anything in particular, or…?”

“Supplies and whatnot. For Uncle.” He added, although you were fairly certain it had nothing to do with Thorin.

“Okay, sure, I’ll help.”

He grinned. “Excellent.”

“You like mead, right, (Y/N)?” Kili asked, sliding a mug to you. “You seemed to like the kind the elves had in Rivendell.”

“I do like mead. Thank you.” You grinned and took the mug of the drink, taking a few tentative sips. It was good, but it was very strong.

“I asked if they had blueberry, but they didn’t, only raspberry and some strawberry.”

“It’s good.” You assured him. “You remembered what kind of mead I had all the way back then?”

“I remember everything about that night.” He winked.

The company drank and ate and drank some more. You hadn’t been drunk in a good, long while, so you finally let loose a bit, giving into the warmth and numbness of the alcohol flowing through your veins. You got a bit giggly, watching the dwarves dance and joke around.

“It’s all about unwinding and having a good time, isn’t it?” Ori rambled, rocking in time to the music. “That’s what these adventures are for.”

“Absolutely.” You nodded. “We have a phrase where I come from…‘maybe the real adventure was the friends we met along the way.’ And you guys are like my best friends. I love all of youuu.”

Kili turned to look at you very dramatically, bewildered at the way you were talking. “You’re drunk!” He laughed, pointing.

“So are you!”

He shook his head, though he was obviously lying. “Nonsense. I can hold my beer.”

“Bullshit, laddie!” Dwalin bellowed. “You’re the lightest weight of all of us here, the lass included!”

“Am not!” Kili huffed, crossing his arms.

“I’m a lightweight. Very much so.” You argued, shaking your head. “I’m only (height). It goes straight to my head.”

“He’s only 4’10”!” Gloin’s laugh echoed off the walls, and the whole company laughed with him.

“Oh right.” You shook your head. “I always forget.”

The band picked up a lively tune and Kili abandoned his drink and the laughing company. He took your hand and tugged you onto the dancefloor that had formed. The two of you did your best to follow along with the dance the people of Laketown were doing, twirling each other around, skipping along to the music around and around and around.

You and Kili laughed and laughed, dancing until the music stopped and you lost your footing, inadvertently pulling him down with you. You landed in a heap on the floor, his strong arms on either side of you and his face right in front of you, his warmth radiating onto you, even warmer than it usually was, due to the alcohol in his system.

Finally, things seemed to slow down as you sobered up due to his proximity and that look in his brown eyes. You imagined him leaning in and kissing you, what his lips would feel like against yours, rough and filled with passion and fire. You imagined the way his scruff would feel against your skin and the way his large, strong hands would wander your body. You wanted it. You wanted him.

“Are you alright?” He chuckled, looking you over for damages, but only finding a tipsy Book Keeper with flushed cheeks.

“I’m great.” You insisted, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his. “I’m always great when you’re around, Kili.”

You didn’t miss the way he lit up when you said it. Instead of replying, though, he pressed a messy kiss to your cheek and pulled you to your feet again. You walked back to the others, some of whom were grumbling and exchanging money with one another. If you didn’t know any better, you would have sworn they were taking bets over when and how you and Kili would finally kiss. Unsurprisingly, Balin and Thorin and Bofur were on the receiving end of most of the coin.

You walked, albeit a little wobbly, back to your chair. Once you settled, Balin handed you a mug of what you came to realize was water. It always seemed he was taking care of you, and you very much appreciated it.

“Lassie, could you settle a bet between us?” Dwalin asked.

“I’m a lil’ drunk, but I probably could.” You tilted your head, crossing your legs on the chair you’d settled on. “What’s going on?”

The company laughed a little at your drunkenness.

“Great. Do you know what a One is?”

“I can count.” You insisted, furrowing your eyebrows.

The dwarves all laughed, and then Bofur added, “With a capital O, lass.”

“Ohhhhhhh. That makes more sense.” You giggled a bit and took a sip of water, praying for some sobriety for this conversation. “I do. Kind of. They’re like soulmates, right? Like…and correct me if I’m wrong…the belief that you were created as half of a whole and that your One is the other half?”

“I told you. Pay up.” Fili held up his hand. He tilted his head to you. “Thank you very much.”

“Did he tell you that?” Dwalin asked, shoving a few coins into the golden prince’s hand.

“No.” You shook your head. “I read about it where I’m from.”

“There are works about Ones where you’re from?” Ori asked, genuinely curious.

“Oh yeah.” You nodded. “They’re not in the Book so I didn’t know if they were a real thing or not, but there’s some works about them, yeah.”

You took a long sip of water from your mug and missed the look Fili gave his brother.

Once the party was over and the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon once more, you all headed to the lodging the town was providing for all of you, a large house with plenty of beds, and claimed one for yourself, falling asleep almost instantly. And yet, drifting somewhere between asleep and awake, you swore you felt a pair of soft lips against your forehead.

***

Before coming to Middle Earth, you’d never had a hangover before. Sure, you were twenty-three, but while you were in college, you’d been focused on finishing your degree. You’d been drunk, sure, but never badly enough that you were hungover the next day. And yet, now, you had a pounding headache that could only be explained by the mere amount of alcohol you’d consumed the night before.

Most of the dwarves were still asleep by the time you came around, their snores all too familiar by this point in your journey with them. You spotted Kili in a bed across the room next to an empty bed you assumed belonged to Fili. He was still passed out, snoring. You smiled to yourself. There he was, your Prince Charming.

You reached for the book in your bag, which was hanging on the end of the bed you’d found yourself in.

The sun was up now, and streaming through the windows, so you opened the book and read the next couple of sections. What came next was the hike up to Erebor, then a confrontation with Smaug, and then, said dragon would be killed by Bard. You wished there was something you could do to stop the destruction. Smaug would destroy Laketown and kill many of the people who lived there. There would be survivors, sure, but…there must be some way to warn them, surely. But there was also the chance that if you told them to evacuate town, Bard might not be there to stop the dragon. You were pretty sure he was the only one who could.

You sighed. Sometimes your knowledge of things to come was a blessing. It had helped you protect the company, keep them ahead of schedule on their journey. Other times, like this, it made you feel guilty, even though there was no real way you could save the men of the village. Some things had to happen; Smaug’s death was one of them. And besides, you’d seen the Master, you knew he was skeptical of the dwarves as is. If he knew it was kind of their fault the dragon would be headed towards Laketown, you had no clue what would happen to them. Then none of you would make it to Erebor. In fact, he’d probably burn you at the stake for being a witch while he was at it.

“You ready to go?” Came Fili’s gruff whisper. He was all dressed and ready for a day on the town. Right. You’d agreed to go to the market with him.

“What time is it?” You asked, eyes bleary.

“Sometime after noon. The market is open. Thought I’d let you get some sleep, though.” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows at you. “You had quite the night last night, Book Keeper.”

You motioned to the rest of the dwarves that were still out cold. “I think we all did.”

You stretched and got out of bed, rummaging through your clothes for something suitable to wear and changed quickly before meeting Fili outside the house, your bag slung over your shoulder.

“Is there anything you need from the market today, Book Keeper?” Fili asked. “I scoped out the stalls earlier. The merchants have agreed to furnish us with anything we need before we leave.”

“Did you see anyone selling dresses?” You asked. “Not anything super fancy, just…clean and nice.”

“I saw some, yes. Any particular occasion?”

You paused, looking at him and the mischievous look in his eye. “Why, what do you know?”

“Oh nothing, nothing…” He shook his head, walking along. “I think I did see one. This way.”

Fili led you down through the market stalls to one run by a kindly old woman. She had several simple dresses. Vibrant greens and oranges. They were perfect now that the leaves were changing color. The orange would go well with your cloak, but the green would match the courting bead once it was made. Choices, choices…

“Hello, lass.” The old woman greeted you. “How can I help you today?”

“I’m looking for a dress.” You told her. “I love this green color.”

“It matches your ring, dear.” She smiled, noticing the gem around your finger.

“That’s what I thought, too.” You told her.

“Is it for any occasion in particular?”

Fili looked away, pretending to be distracted by something in the next stall.

“It is, actually. It doesn’t need to be anything very fancy, but…I’m planning on wearing it to tell the man I love that I want to court him.” You told her.

She gasped, her eyes twinkling. She took your hand in both of hers. “I have just the thing.”

She led you by the hand into her house and let you try on the perfect dress. Its fabric was soft, a deep emerald green. Along its hem, several wildflowers were embroidered with sage green and lavender thread. It was beautiful, though not too flashy, and it went perfectly with your ring.

It was absolutely perfect.

Though she insisted you didn��t have to pay her, wanting to give it to you for the occasion, you gave her most of the coins Gandalf allotted you at the beginning of the journey. You’d been saving them for something special, and this felt right.

Once you changed out of it, you met Fili back in front of the stall. He looked at you, expectant.

“Well?”

“I found one. It’s very nice.” You smiled, patting your bag. “Now, what did you need to buy?”

“Hmm?”

“…for your uncle?” You reminded him.

“Ah, right! For Uncle! Yes, um, just some provisions is all. More food, some supplies; rope and wood and things…”

“Mmhmm.” You hummed, unconvinced.

Fili led you through the market, purchasing a few things here and there. But you could tell he was just biding his time until he finally asked what he’d actually brought you there to talk about. “So um…It seems none of us have ever asked you how humans from your realm…court.”

You laughed in disbelief. “Oh my god.”

“It’s not for me!”

“I know that.” You shook your head.

Fili stared at you, waiting for more of a reply. “How might a dwarf go about that? About courting a human. A human woman. If he so wanted to. I don’t. No offense, of course, you’re lovely, Book Keeper.”

“Fili…” You hesitated for a long moment. You knew he and Kili were close. Beyond close, in fact. You trusted Bofur and Balin to keep your not-so-secret secret, but could you tell Fili without indirectly telling Kili?

Fili’s expression fell. “Do you not love him?”

Your took a breath, forming your words. “Fili, I love your brother more than I have ever loved anyone in my entire life.”

He breathed in relief. “Thank Mahal…”

“It’s just that, um…Balin and Bofur are teaching me to smith a courting bead for him. Once we get to Erebor, I mean. I wish I could do it sooner, but I want to do it properly.” You breathed, fiddling with your claddagh ring nervously. “I want it to be perfect.”

Fili looked at you for a long time, his eyes soft. “You really do love him.”

You nodded. “I do.”

“Well…” He scratched the back of his neck. “He sent me here to get information on how to take matters into his own hands. My brother has never been…patient, let’s just say.”

You laughed. “Oh, I know.” You thought for a moment. “Just tell him…it’s a long, complicated, confusing process, but…flowers are usually a good start.”

“Is it actually complicated where you’re from?”

“Yes. I wish our customs were as straight-forward as yours. With humans, it’s all a guessing game. You go on a few dates together, but there’s always the question of who asks who out, and who pays for the meal and when do you have a first kiss, when do you take the next step, it’s all…experimenting and feeling things out. And sometimes, you think someone is really into you and they’re not and then your heart gets broken because they were acting like they liked you, but they didn’t and they just slowly stop talking to you altogether. Or maybe things moved too fast and it scared them away…so many things that could go wrong. And then you don’t know how many dates you go on before you’re actually considered dating, well, courting, I guess. Same thing, really. Could be three or four, could be a lot more than that…it’s rough.”

Fili was stunned silent for a long moment. “That does sound…awful.”

“It is.”

He looked around awkwardly, unsure of exactly what else to say. “So…what kind of flowers do you want?”

***

That night was the last night the company was staying in Laketown. Your efforts had bought the group some extra time to spend on the hike up to Erebor. You were spending the evening to yourself. The dwarves were out drinking in the pub, so you were in the house alone, preparing your things for more travel.

You sat on the bed you had claimed and went through your pack, organizing your clothes, folding them in piles. You pulled out your stack of polaroid photos and started shuffling through them. There were so many that you and the dwarves had taken over the course of the journey. The guys making silly faces, cooking dinner over a campfire, dancing and singing songs together, visiting all kinds of beautiful places together. You’d always known Middle Earth would be beautiful, but you had no idea the extent of it. And yet, after having been there for so long, it was beginning to feel more like home to you than the realm you’d come from.

You stared at one picture in particular, one of Thorin, Fili, and Kili all together. You couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. It was about time you faced the inevitable. Your own personal quest to save the line of Durin was nearing every moment. You weren’t sure what to do about it. You hadn’t told anyone, obviously. You didn’t even know what they would say. And if you did tell them, there was the chance that it would make them nervous and even more likely to die. Or, worse, one of the others could die as well. That blood would be on your hands.

You found yourself wishing, now more than ever, that Gandalf was there so you could ask him for advice. He was the only one who would know that to do.

Instead, however, the first to wander back from the festivities was none other than Bilbo Baggins, a smile on his face and a wooden mug of something in his hand.

“(Y/N), what are you doing in here all alone?” He spotted the tears running down your face and stopped, his expression softening. “Are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” you nodded, sniffling and wiping away your tears as quickly as you could. “Just, uh, taking a little stroll down memory lane, I guess.” You held up some pictures and he nodded, walking closer.

“You know, if there’s anything you need to talk about, I’ve got open ears.” Bilbo offered, closing the door behind him. “I may not be as wise as Balin, but I like to think I’ve acquired some wisdom of my own on this trip.”

“Thank you.” You chuckled, nodding. “I appreciate it, Bilbo.” You let out a long, shaking sigh. “I really wish I could tell you what’s going on, but I don’t want to put you in harm’s way.”

Bilbo nodded, thinking for a long moment before replying. “Whatever it is you’re facing now…you’ve been carrying it for a while, haven’t you?”

“For longer than I’ve known any of you.” You admitted.

“Well, whatever it is you’re carrying…you don’t have to carry it alone. If you need to tell someone, it can be me. You’ve carried my burdens, let me share yours.”

“Okay, well…” You choked back a sob, pulling the book out of your bag. You flipped through the pages at the very back of it, scanning the tiny words carefully. What you hated the most about it was how easy it was to miss. Like an afterthought. One sentence that broke your heart a million times over.

You pointed and handed the book to Bilbo so he could read it for himself. You couldn’t bear the thought of reading the words out loud. “Am I allowed to read straight from the book?”

You nodded, so he allowed himself to scan over the words, and as soon as he did, he let out a sigh and shook his head.

“Wow, (Y/N), I’m so…” Bilbo exhaled. “You’ve known this the whole time?”

“That’s the reason I’m here. Gandalf told me…he said I’d be able to change it. To try at least.” You shook your head, new, hot tears trailing down your face. “I don’t know. I’m just…so scared.”

“You have every right to be.” Bilbo said. “And, especially now, with everything between the two of you…” He handed you the book back and looked you in the eye. “I am so sorry. Have you…have you spoken to Gandalf about it since then?”

“Not directly. He’s never here for long.”

“Ask for his advice. I’m sure he’ll know what to do.” Bilbo assured you. “And if he doesn’t, well…you and I are rather good at making plans together. We will figure this out.” He took your hands, very serious. “You’re not going to lose him, alright? I promise you.”

You sniffled and nodded, looking at him for a good, long moment before pulling him into your arms. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Book Keeper.”

***

The next morning, bright and early, just before the company was set to leave for Erebor, you knocked on Bard’s door, nervous. In your hand was a note, a warning about the dragon that was set to come for their town. You explained it as well as you could in a way that you hoped he would understand. It was inevitable, but if he was prepared, it might prevent damage to the town, save some lives.

When he opened the door, he had a dismissive look on his face before he saw that it was you.

“Oh. Hello. (Y/N), was it?”

“Yeah. Hi Bard. Um, so, you can take this with a grain of salt if you want, but I thought you should know.” You handed the note to him and he held it, hesitant.

He raised an eyebrow. “A prophecy from the Book Keeper?”

You nodded. “So it would seem. And thank you for helping the dwarves. I know they probably didn’t thank you properly. I’ll do my best to make sure they hold up their end of the bargain.”

He stared at you for a long moment. “Thank you. Best of luck to you.”

It was a weird moment when you stepped down from his stairs, back down to the dock where Kili was waiting for you. It felt significant. Bard had an impact on you when you’d read the story as a child. It felt…right to help him now. And you knew how important he’d be for the outcome of the story and everything that would come after Smaug’s death.

Not long after, the company boarded a boat and set off towards the shores nearest Erebor. It was beautiful. The waters were fairly calm, the sky was alight with color…You watched as Laketown got smaller and smaller behind you, the Lonely Mountain growing closer and closer.

You caught Kili squinting at the distant grass, searching for wildflowers, no doubt. You couldn’t stop your heart from melting at the sight.

“I bought some things at the market in Laketown. When we get camp set up, I’ll have Thorin send Kili and Fili out to scout for a bit.” Balin told you, his voice quiet. “And then we can get started.”

“Awesome.” You nodded, a chill running up your spine. It was finally happening. You stared at the ring around your finger and couldn’t help but smile thinking about its future. “Thank you, Balin.”

The old dwarf smiled, a twinkle in his eye. “Don’t mention it, dear. I’m quite excited myself.”

Six of the dwarves paddled the boat for a few hours. Not long after, they switched. Kili had been paddling during the first shift, so once he was finished, he plopped down in the seat beside yours, his leg resting against yours. He kept staring up at the Lonely Mountain, his eyes absolutely glimmering with excitement to finally have reached your destination.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” He asked, his voice soft and sentimental.

“It really is.” You agreed, nodding. You imagined years from now when the rest of the dwarves journeyed to Erebor from wherever they had gone to since, business bustling, children laughing. You knew it would be so beautiful. You hoped you’d get to stick around to see it. You still weren’t sure how it would work when everything was done.

Kili slipped his hand into yours and squeezed it excitedly, bringing it to his lips. You swore your heart skipped a beat. Any of the dwarves that witnessed this interaction laughed softly to themselves.

The boat landed some time later when the sun was beginning to tickle the tops of the hills nearby. Thorin decided to camp as far from the mountain as possible, as to, hopefully, not wake the dragon overnight, but he would have dwarves posted on guard all night just in case. He was ever-grateful you’d bought them an extra day of time. The following day was Durin’s day, which meant that around tomorrow evening, the dwarves would enter Erebor finally, and, inevitably, Bilbo would wake the dragon.

Yikes.

As soon as you got out of the boat, you spotted a crate not too far from the shore and scrunched your eyebrows at it. While the others started unloading things, you walked over to the big box and noticed a piece of paper sitting on top of it. Upon closer inspection, it was addressed to you.

“What is that, lass?” Dwalin asked, noticing your absence.

“It’s addressed to me.” You read the words in your head.

My Dear Book Keeper,

Do not stress to much over the days to come

It will all work itself out in the end.

Well done so far. Enjoy these with the company.

I’ll see you soon.

-Gandalf

“It’s from Gandalf.” You told them, pushing the lid off of the crate to find a whole bunch of bottles of black cherry cream soda. “He brought us that cream soda I like.”

“I wonder what it tastes like…” Dori wondered.

“We’ll have it with dinner this evening.” Thorin declared. “For now, set up camp and keep an eye on the skies.” He stared up at the mountain for a long time. It would be quite the hike tomorrow, but you knew it would be well worth it.

Sometime after they got the boat unpacked, the camp set up, Thorin sent Kili and Fili out to scout and Balin and Bofur found you not long after, looking excited.

Balin took a tiny kit of jeweling tools out of his bag and unrolled it, showing you all the tools he had at your disposal.

“Alright, lassie, do you have an idea of what kind of design you’d like to do?”

“The bead should be pretty thick, right? Is this circumference okay, or should it be smaller?” You asked.

“Let me see.” Balin held out his hand and you carefully set the ring in his palm. He pulled out the little glass eyepiece he used for reading to examine it more carefully. “Kili’s hair is quite thin, so it might be wise to bring it in a little bit, but in terms of thickness, yes, it should be a thicker band.”

“I got some chains at the market. They’re silver, so they’ll match.” Bofur said, presenting a few broken pieces of jewelry he’d picked up at the market. Well, either he had picked them up or Nori had…borrowed them, one of the two. “Should add onto it quite nicely once it’s melted down.”

“Wait, is she courting Kili?” Ori asked, completely unaware until that very moment that something was going on between you and the youngest prince. “Why am I always the last to know?”

“She will be, but for now, keep quiet, lad.” Dwalin, roughed up Ori’s hair. He met your eyes over the fire and winked at you. “Would hate to ruin the surprise.”

The three of you worked quickly, with Balin and Bofur directing you through every step of the process. The other members of the party occasionally chimed in with advice. Thorin watched the whole exchange with proud eyes. He didn’t say much, but you could tell he approved.

And once it was finally done and cool enough to touch, you couldn’t stop looking at it.

“I think he’ll love it.” Bilbo said, smiling proudly.

“It is quite beautiful, (Y/N).” Thorin complimented. “Very impressive for your first work.”

“I had some really great teachers.” You said, emotion welling in your voice. You looked at all of the dwarves that were around you, Bilbo sitting among them as well. This was your family. These were your boys, and even with Kili and Fili out scouting for the moment, you still very much loved and appreciated each dwarf in attendance. “You guys really mean a lot to me. All of you. All of your advice, your comfort, your lessons…I will carry all of them with me for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t go all soft on us now, lass.” Dwalin tilted his head, compassion in his dark eyes. “We’ve got plenty of time for that.”

“Right.” You laughed softly, nodding.

“When are you going to do it?” Dori asked. He’d always been something of a hopeless romantic, as he’d told you. Loved the idea of young love and the innocence and beauty that came with it.

“I was going to wait until the day after tomorrow to do it. I can’t give too many details now, but…I don’t want to distract him while there’s still a dragon here.”

“That’s a good plan.” Balin put his hand on your arm. “Best of luck to you, dear, but I doubt you’ll need it.”

***

Kili and Fili came back sometime later, and once they did, the rest of the party finally got into the drinks Gandalf had sent. You’d all found some large logs to sit on around the fire. You’d tucked the bead into a pocket for safe keeping and were sitting there, staring into the flames when Kili approached, a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand. They were beautiful, purple stalks with smaller yellow flowers in between.

He seemed nervous, standing for a moment before deciding to sit on the log next to you. You could tell he was rehearsing in his head how to word what he was about to say next. Thinking about it, you had been a bit vague in the advice you’d given to Fili.

“These, um…I picked them for you.” He said, handing the bouquet to you. “I hope you…like them.”

“These are beautiful, Kili.” You assured him, holding the flowers and admiring them for a long moment. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He nodded, taking a shaky breath. “I’m glad you think so.”

There was a moment of quiet and you could tell he was contemplating asking whether or not this meant you were courting now, but he didn’t say anything else, unsure of exactly what to say. So, you decided to fill the quiet.

Setting the flowers carefully on top of your bag, you took Kili’s hand and leaned on his shoulder. “I’m really glad I came here, Kili.”

“To Erebor?” He asked quietly.

“To Middle Earth.”

He squeezed your hand. “I am too.”

“It’s been a while since you’ve spoken of home, lass,” Dwalin pointed out. Everyone was circled up now, facing the fire and sipping on their bottles of black cherry cream soda.

“Yeah, you don’t talk about it much anymore.” Ori agreed, nodding.

“It’s…well, it’s pretty boring, honestly. I’m no fighter. I’m a writer. I’ve been writing a fantasy novel, ironically enough, but I got stuck and didn’t know where to take the story.” You shrugged, lifting your head from the dwarf prince’s shoulder, but not letting go of his hand. “There’s no elves or goblins or trolls or…magic there. We latch onto these stories of whimsy and adventure so much because we don’t have it where I’m from. It makes us feel alive.”

You were quiet for a moment, fetching the book from your bag.

“I’ve had this book since I was twelve years old. I had to read it for a class when I was in middle school. Usually I hated reading things I was forced to read, but…I knew this book was different. I could feel it, even then. A classic adventure, a quest to kill a dragon, but there was so much more to it. My friends and I were excited to read the assigned chapters every week to see what trouble you guys would get into and then fight your way out of. It was fun. And at the time we were reading it, they were also in the process of making movies about you guys.”

“What’s a movie?” Fili asked, seated on Kili’s other side.

“Oh. Right. Well, um…a movie is like a play. Kind of. Except the whole thing is recorded with a camera. Imagine if my Polaroid could make moving pictures with sound. It’s like that. Moving pictures with sound that tell a story. And so my classmates and I all took a trip to the theater together to see them and it was really special. I couldn’t imagine then that I’d ever be here, that I’d ever see these events with my own eyes, intervene in them. Even before I knew you guys existed, you had a really big impact on my life. You all got me through some tough times.”

“And you’ve gotten us through tough times.” Bilbo smiled. “I’d say we’re probably even now.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to repay all of you for everything you’ve done for me. So I guess I’ll just have to stick around and keep trying.”

“Will you stay?” Kili asked, his voice quiet. “A long time ago you told me if you got the choice, you would. Is that still…how you feel?”

The company was quiet, waiting for your response.

“If I get to choose, I will absolutely stay here. If you’d all have me, of course.” You were looking at Kili now, your other hand joining the first, holding his. “I don’t think I could live in a realm that doesn’t have you in it.”

Kili leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling you into his arms. You reciprocated the hug immediately, surrendering to his warmth. You felt the tears trail down your cheeks. Unlike the night before, you weren’t sobbing, you weren’t sniffling. You were barely making any noise at all, but that didn’t seem to stop the tears from flowing.

“(Y/N), you will always have a place in our halls.” Thorin said, watching his nephew embrace you. “You and the Burglar both. You’re our kin now.”

“Once we get the library back in working order, we’ll need a Book Keeper.” Nori pointed out, causing the others to laugh.

You nodded and pulled away from Kili. He noticed your tears immediately and reached out to wipe them away.

“Oh, Amrâlimê, there’s no need for tears.”

“Someday you’re going to have to tell me what that word means,” you whispered, a soft laugh escaping you.

He smiled. “Soon.”

“Promise?” You held out your pinkie finger.

He stared at it for a long time. “What am I meant to do with this, Book Keeper?”

You reached for his hand and shaped his fingers, tucking them all down aside from his pinkie. “This is a very important human custom where I’m from. Sacred almost. Everyone pay attention.” You told the others, linking your pinkie with Kili’s. “We call this a Pinkie Promise. It’s an unbreakable oath.”

“Why are you just teaching us this now?” Fili laughed.

“Unbreakable, you say?” Kili laughed, his pinkie curling tighter around yours.

“Unbreakable. Now you have to tell me someday.”

He smiled. “Deal.”

***

You didn’t really get much sleep that night. Too much on your mind. The next morning, the dwarves packed up their supplies just as the sun was peeking over the horizon again. It was going to be quite the hike. Honestly, you were excited for it. It felt right, finally being there after everything you’d all been through to reach Erebor.

While getting ready for the day, you put some of the flowers Kili had given you in your hair, tucking them into the single braid that sat on your shoulder.

Kili gasped and you looked down at him, his eyes fixed on your bare finger, just now noticing that your ring was gone. “Amrâlimê, where’s your ring?”

“Oh.” Your eyes widened and you looked at your hand and then at him. “I guess it must have slipped off at some point.”

Kili started scanning the ground for something small and shiny. “Fili, help me look.”

“For what?”

“For (Y/N)’s ring!” Kili exclaimed, exasperated.

You bit your lip, unsure of what to do. You looked to Balin for advice, who shrugged, chuckling.

“We can look for a moment, but we must get going.” Thorin insisted. “We have no time to waste.”

“Uncle—”

“It’s okay, Kili,” you met his eyes.

“But your ring…”

You reached out and tilted his face up towards yours. “If it’s meant for me to have, it’ll find me again.

His eyes softened and he let out a breath. “You are wise beyond your years, you know.”

You shrugged, smirking. “Seems you guys have rubbed off on me.”

After the slight delay, the group got moving again, walking closer and closer to the base of the Lonely Mountain. There were footpaths up to the entrance, sure, but they were steep, and since the mountain had been uninhabited for so long, they had eroded in the weather, making it difficult to walk.

Kili went on ahead of you, offering his hand and tugging you up when the steps were too steep. Sometimes, he’d let his hand linger in yours, fiddling with your fingers. You would never forget the way he looked at you, like you were made of starlight. No person you had ever been romantically involved with had ever looked at you like that before. God, you wanted to kiss him so bad.

Finally, after hours of hiking, the group reached the landing where the secret door was hidden. You pulled out the book while one of the other dwarves consulted the map. The sun would be setting soon, so all there was to do was wait.

“Are we sure this is the spot?” Ori asked.

“Yes.” Thorin nodded. “Book Keeper?”

“We’re all good here. Just keep an eye out for the hole. Watch for it while the sun is setting just in case, but it should show up by the light of the moon.” You told them. “But yeah, make sure you double-check during the sunset, just to be safe.”

“Good, good.” The king nodded, resting for a moment. “The light of the moon?”

“Yeah. Would have been a real heart-breaking moment for a second until Bilbo spotted it when the sun went down and the moon came out. The rest of you all gave up, but he didn’t.” You told them, tucking the book away again. For a bit, you took a seat against the stone wall and drank some water, tired from the long hike.

“Are you alright? Is there anything you need?” Kili asked, kneeling in front of you.

“I’m just a little tired. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing well.” He settled in, sitting with you. “Those flowers look very beautiful in your hair like that.”

“You picked some lovely ones, what can I say?”

“Are they…adequate?” He wondered, his eyes sincere and unsure.

“They are perfect.” You assured him, taking both of his hands in yours. You so wished you could just do it here and now, just tell him everything and ask to braid that beautiful hair of his. But it was so close to the door opening. There were bigger things to deal with, more important matters at hand. “Kili…”

“Yes, Amrâlimê, what is it?” He searched your eyes.

“Can I sleep on your leg? I didn’t get very much sleep last night and things are about to get…difficult when that door is opened…”

“Oh. Yes, of course, come here.” He adjusted into a position that would be comfortable for you.

You laid down, using his thigh as a pillow, pulling your cloak around yourself as a blanket.

“Get some rest, Book Keeper.” Balin told you. “I have a feeling we’ll need you once we’re inside.”

You nodded and let yourself close your eyes. And when you did, you felt Kili’s careful fingers playing with your hair, gently lulling you to some well-needed sleep.

***

When you awoke, the sun was setting and the dwarves were watching carefully for the keyhole to open. Kili had not moved at all. His hand was still playing with your hair. You hummed and stretched, turning to look up at him. He smiled once he saw your face.

“You sleep well?”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded, sitting up. “Thank you.”

“Just in time.” Bilbo said.

The sun continued to dip beneath the hills, and soon, the moon emerged. Sure enough, there was the keyhole. You smiled. You were right. Of course you were, but it still felt good. However, you knew what else this night would bring.

“There it is…” Thorin murmured, holding up the key as the thrush knocked against the stone.

“We’ve done it. We finally made it.” Balin was clearly getting emotional, his voice betraying him.

Dwalin put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, nodding. The dwarves all stood at attention, watching anxiously as Thorin slipped the key into the hole and turned it. The door gave way, drifting open into the Lonely Mountain.

Kili’s breath stuttered and when you looked at him, his eyes were watering. You took his hand, giving it a supportive squeeze. You knew how long he’d been waiting for this moment. He’d grown up hearing tales of Erebor, their stolen homeland, and had longed to return.

Balin and Thorin lead the other dwarves inside tentatively, touching the stone walls and looking at the carvings upon them. Balin explained one of the carvings, one depicting the Throne of the Kings with the Arkenstone sitting in it, its rays of light shining out, representing the seven dwarven kingdoms.

“I cannot believe it.” Fili whispered, eyes watering as well.

The dwarves were careful to not make too much noise, but they all spent a lot of time embracing each other, celebrating silently before going back outside to wait for the Burglar to scope out the scene. Bilbo did, however, pull you aside to ask for some advice before heading down.

“Balin has requested I retrieve the Arkenstone if I find it…What advice do you have on the matter?”

“You’ll find it down there.” You knelt down to whisper in his ear, as to not be overheard. “Hold onto it. Keep it somewhere safe. You’ll need it for…the days to come. But don’t tell the others.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “Thank you.”

“When, um…when we hear the dragon start moving, we’ll come down to help. It’ll all work out.” You were confident on the matter, and that helped instill a bit of confidence in him as well. “Any other questions?”

“No, I don’t think so.” He shrugged. “Here goes nothing.”

“Master Burglar,” Kili approached suddenly, a tentative look on his face. “I have a request as well…”

“I’ll see you outside.” You told Kili before leaving the both of them there.

Fili was waiting outside with the others on the balcony where you were all waiting together. You hadn’t told them exactly what was coming, but they knew they’d need to be on alert.

“Did he tell you what he’s requesting from Bilbo?” You asked Fili.

“I’m sworn to secrecy, Book Keeper.” Fili chuckled. “He made me do a Pinkie Promise and everything.”

You laughed at that. “Well, I could never ask you to break a Pinkie Promise.”

A short while later, Kili came out to stand with the others. You looked at him, curious, but he didn’t tell you what he’d asked for, only brushed the hair out of the front of your face, warmth in his eyes.

“What now, Book Keeper?” asked Dwalin, his hands resting on his belt.

“Now we wait.” You told them. “Shouldn’t be long. Maybe an hour or so. And then we’ll need to go in there and save him.”

“Does he—”

“He knows.” You assured Dori, who looked concerned for your hobbit’s wellbeing. “I told him. We’ll go down there and drive the dragon out and then…he won’t be our problem anymore.”

“And just how do we do that?” Thorin asked.

You reached into your bag and opened the book, flipping to pretty close to the end of it. “In the book, he just kind of gets pissed off and leaves. I doubt it will be that simple, though.”

“Is it ever?” Ori whined, leaning back against the stone wall.

You spent the next hour listening for any tiny sound that would signify Smaug had awoken and was chasing Bilbo. Nothing yet. You decided that waiting was the worst part, especially when you had a faint idea of what would happen next.

“Something bad is going to happen, isn’t it?” Kili asked, his voice a mere whisper. “That’s what you’ve been so stressed about lately.”

“Everything with Smaug is…easy compared to what comes after.” You confessed. Until that moment, you thought you’d been hiding it well, but Kili saw right through the façade. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

“Mmm…” Kili nodded, taking your hand in his, admiring your fingers before bringing it to his lips. “I will not let anything happen to you. None of us will.”

You nodded, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him it was him you were worried about.

Soon enough, there was a loud rumbling from within the mountain. You all got to your feet and rushed inside, down the spiraling staircases to the massive treasure hoard of Thror. It was…even more massive than you could have possibly imagined. And at the center of it all, was Bilbo, scrambling to get away from the massive beast.

You gulped. There he was. Smaug the Terrible. Big, monstrous, and coming straight at all of you. Fire welled in the dragon’s throat and you all ducked behind a marble staircase.

“You dare challenge me, dwarves?! Over the inconsequential life of one little hobbit?!”

“You think yourself so terrible, Smaug?! You underestimate our strength!” Thorin bellowed. The group split up, distracting the dragon, going separate ways all with one goal: the forges.

Unsure of where you were going, you, Kili, and Fili followed quickly after Thorin, down, down, down the massive fortress into its depths. Erebor was impossibly large, and, seeing it for the first time, you doubted you’d ever learn your way around it.

Smaug’s fiery breath nearly scathed you a few times. Its heat was close and scorching, giving you an even better motivator to keep moving. Eventually, the group all made it down to the forges. You counted the heads as quickly as you could, and when you did, you sighed in relief. This didn’t last long, however, as Smaug quickly rose from the stairwell, peeking through the massive gate that barred him from entering the forge.

The dwarves took cover behind massive metal beams, as did you, however, Smaug didn’t breathe fire, as you’d expected him to. Instead, you heard him land on the other side of the gate, an intrigued growl forming in his throat. You heard a loud clang and then felt his sharp claws cut through your pants as he scratched you, reaching carefully between the large metal bars.

You let out a yelp and collapsed to the floor, using your arms to scurry back, out of his range. It seemed you were bleeding, but it didn’t look like it was too deep.

“You.” He hissed, his eye staring at you, helpless on the ground. “You do not belong here.”

“M-Me?” You asked, staring up at him. The dwarves moved uncertainly, some of their eyes on you, some of their eyes on the beast.

“Yes, you. Mortal girl with the ears of an elfling.” His eyes narrowed and then he snarled, “Book Keeper. You reek of the Mortal Realm.”

Your eyes widened and your heart began pounding even harder in your chest. “I—”

“It’s endearing, really. That you think your existence here matters.” He shook his head. “That you could save them from me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. That was not the way the story went. It never had been. Although maybe Smaug’s dragon-sized ego had caused him to overlook that part.

“Leave her!” Kili shouted, rushing in front of you and leaving the safety of his post.

“Kili, don’t—!” But that didn’t stop him from pulling you off of the floor, supporting your weight with an arm around your waist, a weapon in his other hand, pointed at the dragon.

Kili’s expression darkened, fire in his eyes. “Harm her again and it’ll be the last thing you ever do. I swear it.”

Smaug laughed. “The dwarf cares for you? Despite the fact that you have no right to exist here? Hilarious. And pathetic.”

“She has every right!” Fili joined his brother and your heart raced even faster as every other dwarf and Bilbo stood in front of you, ready to defend you from the massive dragon beyond the gate.

“You know how this story ends, don’t you?” Smaug asked, his voice arrogant. He took a few heavy steps further. “You cannot win. There is no happily ever after. Not for you and certainly not for them.” You could see the fire welling in his chest, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, the fire exploded from his mouth.

It was too late. You nor the dwarves had time to take cover. It would all be for nothing. The journey, your friendship, all of your moments with them…burned to ash.

In that same moment, your hand shot forward, and as if by magic, the flames dispersed as though hitting an impenetrable bubble, a halo protecting you, Bilbo, and the dwarves.

A tear streaming down your cheek, you stood there, hand extended, protecting them with whatever magic this was, whatever power had been hidden inside you all along. Your gaze hardened and though you couldn’t see it, your eyes shined gold like the endless treasures inside the mountain. “I’m writing my own ending, slug.”

Smaug’s fire fizzled and he gasped as though it was being stolen from him, pulled straight from his mouth. He coughed. His chest lit orange, like he was preparing to breathe more fire, but the light inside of him flickered before going out completely. His eyes narrowed at you. “What have you done?!”

“Not sure. Want to find out what else I can do?”

Snorting angrily, Smaug turned around. You heard the breaking of stone and then nothing.

Your knees wobbled, a wave of exhaustion washing over you as you lowered your hand. The dwarves all murmured in amazement and confusion as the dragon fled. You collapsed, but Kili caught you on the way down, his strong arms softening the blow of your knees on the cold marble floors.

“How…how did you…?” Bilbo mumbled, confused.

“I don’t know.” You told him. “I…I don’t have any magic.”

“Well, that certainly looked like magic to me, lass.” Balin said, impressed with your work.

Dwalin smiled, proud. “I knew you had it in you.”

“Let’s make sure he’s left before getting too comfortable.” Thorin insisted.

“Good plan.” You told him, trying to stand, but finding your strength depleted.

Thorin shook his head. “Book Keeper, stay here. You’ve done enough for us for one night. Oin, gather supplies to treat her wound. Kili, you stay with her until she’s fit to move again.”

“I will.” Kili nodded, watching as the others left.

You exhaled a shaking breath, collapsing into his arms. Kili knelt there with you for a long moment, your breathing heavy, shoulders shaking. He held you, careful but firm, his touches deliberate and comforting.

After a while, you pulled away to look up at him, ash smeared on his face and pure starlight in his eyes.

“Kili…” Your eyes watered, voice wobbling. “You…”

“It’s alright.” He brushed the tear from your cheek. “We’re alright, look at me.”

You choked out a sob, staring at him for a long moment before finally, finally…

One of your hands rose to his cheek, tilting his face up to yours. You looked into his eyes for a moment and then leaned in, pressing your lips to his. He reciprocated immediately, like he’d been kissing you for centuries, his lips exploring yours, passionate and soft. Your heart pounded as your noses clashed, your hand wandering back into his hair and his strong arms tugging your body closer to his, chests flush with one another. The feeling of his scruff against your skin was everything you’d imagined it’d be that drunken night in the tavern.

After several minutes, you finally pulled apart, resting your forehead against his, your breathing heavy.

“It means ‘My Love.’” He told you, stopping to take a long, shaking breath. “Amrâlimê. It means ‘My Love.’ And I call you that because…you are my One. I’ve known since that night in the Shire when I turned the corner and saw you standing there.”

“Kili…” Your voice was soft. “The whole time?”

“I didn’t want to…scare you off.” He chuckled at the ridiculous notion. “I know humans don’t have Ones, even here. But that is no excuse. I should have told you so long ago. My brother has made that known at every opportunity.”

You slipped your bag off of your shoulder and onto the floor, reaching into it for a very special pouch. “I didn’t lose my ring.”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

You tilted the pouch’s contents into your palm and held up the courting bead you had created from it instead. “I…”

“Is this a courting bead?” He asked, disbelief heavy in his tone and tears welling in his eyes. “You…you made this? You’d give up your ring…?”

“For you.” You set it in his palm and cupped his face in both of your hands. “I love you, Kili. I love you so much, and…if you’d let me, I’d like to braid your hair, court you the proper dwarf way.”

He let out a sob, throwing his arms around you and holding you tight. “I…I thought you’d never ask.” He pulled away to press another passionate kiss to your lips. “B-but my bead isn’t finished yet. I…I asked Bilbo to find an emerald for me, the finishing touch.” He touched his nose to yours, smiling softly. “They’ll match.”

“I can wait as long as you need me to.” You assured him, kissing him again, and then one more time for good measure. “I would wait a century for you, Kili.”

“I can’t believe this is happening…” He smiled into another kiss. “We must tell the others. Can you walk?”

“I think so.” You nodded, the two of you getting to your feet.

You were a little wobbly, but Kili took one of your arms around his shoulder, supporting you every step of the way. Sure, your leg hurt a bit, but you could hardly think about it after everything that had just transpired.

Eventually, you both came upon the other dwarves, who had started clearing out the commons. Some of them, Balin and Bilbo and Thorin, were out on a balcony, watching Smaug as he flew off towards Laketown. Oin had set up a makeshift infirmary in the corner of the room, and as soon as Fili saw you and his brother enter, he rushed over, taking your other arm and helping you to the cot.

“Does it hurt?” Kili asked as they set you down and Oin started examining the mark.

“A little.” You winced as the older dwarf poked at it.

“It’s not too deep and the bleeding has already stopped.” Oin noted. “It will probably hurt for a few days, but it should heal up just fine, lass.”

“Thank you, Oin.”

“I’ll apply a salve and get you wrapped up.”

Oin rummaged through his supplies while Bilbo rushed into the room, an excited expression on his face. “They shot Smaug down! The people of Laketown, they shot him down before he even reached the edge of town!”

The dwarves burst into joyful celebration, but you sat there in shock. Huh. Maybe warning Bard had some unforeseen consequences…

“Oh shit.” Your eyes widened. “He didn’t…burn the town down?” As Oin tended to your wound you reached for the book, desperately flipping to the end.

“He…he didn’t have any fire.” Bilbo said, his voice quiet.

“That…might be a problem.” You told him, taking your lip between your teeth. “Or not…? I really…wow, I didn’t see that coming.”

Before anyone could say anything else, Thorin and Balin returned to the fold, accompanied by none other than Gandalf the Gray. The relief was palpable as soon as you saw him. Good. At least now you’d have him to talk to.

When he spotted you amongst the dwarves, a mischievous twinkle gleamed in his wise old eyes. “Ah, the Book Keeper. Making a splash, I see.”

“Yeah, it seems like it.”

“There is much we must discuss.” Gandalf said. “Oin, are you done with her?”

“Aye.” Oin nodded. You stood and followed Gandalf further into the depths of Erebor, out of earshot of the other dwarves. As you were walking away, you spotted Kili in the corner of your eye as Bilbo handed him what appeared to be the aforementioned emerald.

“So, where do we even begin…?” Gandalf murmured, lighting his pipe as he settled into the chair at the end of the table that appeared to have been the grand dining room a long time ago. There was quite a bit of dust. “I suppose we’ll start with something light; How’s Kili?”

You laughed. “Kili is good. No poisoned arrow to the leg, no near-death in Laketown…and um, we’re actually…well, we’ll be courting soon.”

“Dwarvish courting rituals?” Gandalf raised his eyebrows. “I must say, I’m impressed. Show me the bead.”

You pulled it out of its pouch and handed it to the wizard, who smiled a knowing smile once he examined it.

“I thought that claddagh ring might come in handy, although I must admit, not for this exact purpose.” He noted, smug. “Congratulations! Well, onto the…other matters at hand…Laketown seems to be rather in-tact, does it not?”

“Yeah, that, um…just happened. Smaug got me in the leg, one thing came to another, and he breathed fire at us, but I…stopped it? I think. With a…well, with like a force-field. A bubble around me and the others.”

“Oh…very interesting indeed…” Gandalf thought on this for a moment, inhaling from his pipe before letting the smoke tumble from his lips. “That is something I did not foresee.”

“I think it…weakened Smaug. It was like I stole his fire.” Your voice came out soft and uncertain. “That’s probably why…”

“Very possible.” He nodded. “Well, I suspect that soon, the Master and the rest of the town will be here, demanding their pay.”

“You don’t think that’ll change?”

“I doubt it. And Thranduil and his forces are on their way as well. It seems the Battle of Five Armies is still coming.”

You were quiet for a long time. “Um…Gandalf…”

His voice softened when he saw the look on your face. “Yes, my dear, what’s wrong?”

“I can save him, right? That’s why I’m here? To save them?” You asked, your voice catching.

Gandalf reached across the table, letting his hand settle on top of yours. “I picked you for a reason, (Y/N). I would not have chosen you if I didn’t believe it could be done. And now that you are here…you are not alone. I think you know that.”

You nodded. You blinked and a tear slipped down your cheek.

“You know what they say, my dear, love is unpredictable. It seems you’ve recently learned just how powerful it can be.”

“Thank you.”

He gently wiped the tear from your cheek. “Don’t thank me yet. Celebrate with the dwarves. Celebrate with your beloved. You’ve earned it. I’ll be seeing you soon.”

***

Gandalf spoke with the rest of the company briefly before leaving, you assumed, to see where the elves were setting up camp, if they really were that far in their journey. You hoped you’d at least get a few days of peace before the war broke out. You needed it.

Bombur cooked up one hell of a dinner and Dori had gone digging through the wine cellars to find something extra special for the company to celebrate with. Oin had changed your bandages once, but when he did, he noticed that your wound had already mostly closed up. You were going to be just fine. Well, physically anyway.

You’d changed into the dress you’d gotten in Laketown, the green one embroidered with purple wildflowers, not unlike the ones Kili had given you.

“You look lovely.” Fili complimented. “Is that the one from the market?”

“It is.” You smiled and did a little spin. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

“Take a look for yourself.” Fili motioned tilted his head towards his brother on the other side of the room, staring at you with stars in his eyes. Fili’s hand touched your shoulder before he walked off with Bofur and Dwalin to get everything ready for the feast.

Kili walked to you, staring up at you in awe. He gently touched the fabric of your dress. “Is this new? I’ve never seen you wear this before.”

“I got it in Laketown.” You confirmed. “Do you like it?”

“Oh, Amrâlimê, I love it.” He brushed the loose hairs out of your face, and pulled yours down to his, kissing you gently. “Emerald green happens to be my favorite color.”

“It does?”

“Well, it’s my second favorite color.” He admitted, his voice soft. “My first favorite is the color of your eyes.”

Your heart welled with warmth and your lips crashed against his once more, his kiss stealing the air from your lungs until you were interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. So, laughing, the two of you joined the others for the celebration.

You all settled in the dining hall Gandalf had taken you to. Some of the dwarves had cleaned up a bit, dusting areas where you’d be eating. Balin got some of the torches going to bring light to the place. It was so big. The ceilings were impossibly high, the walls carved into green marble. It was a place that had been expertly crafted by the most talented architects around, you were sure of it. There was care and skill put into every detail.

“Would you like some wine, Book Keeper?” Dori asked, a bottle in his hand.

“Just a little this time. I think we all remember what effect alcohol has on me.”

The others laughed softly. You were in the seat beside Kili’s and he kept resting his hand on your thigh beneath the table, the warmth of his hand causing similar warmth to pool in your stomach.

“You two look rather glowing this evening.” Fili smirked. “Any news you’d like to share with the rest of us?”

“Ah, yes.” Kili cleared his throat and the chattering dwarves all sat at attention. “Uncle, if I may…”

“Please do.” Thorin nodded his head, expectant.

“Our beautiful Book Keeper has presented me with a courting bead.” Kili said, his hand slipping into yours. “And I have obviously accepted her proposal because…she is my One. We’ll begin our courtship after tonight’s feast.”

The company burst into cheers and applause that echoed off of the walls of the dining hall.

Thorin reached to his nephew, putting a hand atop Kili’s. “Congratulations, nephew.” He looked to you. “And congratulations, (Y/N).”

“Thank you, your highness.” You nodded your head.

“No, no more titles.” Thorin shook his head. “You are one of us now. You can refer to me as Thorin, if you wish.”

You knew in your heart that he was right. This was your family. These were your people. And now, more than ever, you were honored to be surrounded by them.

“Tomorrow, we’ll have a meeting discussing further steps and the things to come, but tonight, we have much to celebrate.” Thorin announced.

The feast that followed was perhaps the best celebration you’d experienced with them thus far. Some of the dwarves got very intoxicated, including Ori, who was laying on the floor in front of the fireplace, mumbling something about cheese. Fili and Kili had a few drinks together, but Kili had stopped drinking before the others to prepare for what was to come.

Fili, Gloin, and Dori left for a while at some point and when they returned, Fili whispered something to his brother who laughed and thanked him. After a while, everything seemed to calm down. Some of the dwarves wandered the halls to find a place to sleep, and Kili took that as his opportunity to escort you to the bedrooms.

In a place the size of Erebor, there were countless bedrooms, but Kili led you down the halls to what you felt was a very sacred place, lit with torches. And along the floor, there was a trail of wildflower petals, not unlike the kind Kili had given you, leading into one of said bedrooms.

“These are the rooms set aside for the royal family.” Kili explained, kissing your hand. “The one at the end of the hall is for the king. The one next door is the one set aside for Fili because he is the heir, and this one has been prepared for us.” He pushed open the door, and led you inside, closing the door behind you.

The flower petals trailed to the edge of the king-sized bed, which had been dusted and dressed with fresh bedding. The entire room was clean. There was a pair of large closets carved into the wall, a large window with a bench seat beneath it, a large desk and a giant bookshelf. The torches were lit, casting the room in warm firelight, although you could imagine just how stunning it would be once the sun came up and started streaming through the windows.

On the desk, there was a vase filled of the wildflowers Kili had picked for you, their colors still as beautiful and vivid as when he’d first presented them to you.

“Do you like it?” He asked, searching your eyes.

“It’s perfect, Kili.” You reassured him, squeezing his hand. You reached into your bag and pulled out the pouch containing the courting bead. “How do we do this?”

He grinned, cheeky. “What, the other’s didn’t tell you the specifics?”

You smirked. “Let’s just say I’m a hands-on learner.”

Kili pulled you in for a kiss, his lips a little firmer now than they had been during your previous kisses, a hand wandering into your hair. While your lips were on his, he tugged you to the bed by your hips and the two of you sat on its edge side by side. He lingered for a long moment before pulling away to reach into his pocket.

Very carefully, he presented his courting bead. It was a little thinner than the one you’d made for him, a more intricate band with a swirling silver design, some leaves carved into the precious metal. In the center of it, was a beautiful glimmering emerald cut into an oval. You gasped when you saw it. Kili had obviously been working on this for quite some time.

You immediately teared up. “Oh my god, it’s beautiful.”

He grinned. “I’m glad you think so.” Kili rested his forehead against yours, his lips mere inches away. “I’m sorry it took me so long, Amrâlimê. I’m sorry all of this has taken so long. If I could do it all over again, I’d have told you the way I felt that first night in the Shire. I have wasted so much time unable to kiss you. And oh, how I have wanted to kiss you.”

You kissed him, your movements long and slow. You felt him smile against you before you mumbled, “That makes two of us.”

“Until recently, I didn’t know that the men of your kind were supposed to initiate courting—sorry, dating." He admitted. “Fili um…”

“I know. He told me.” You chuckled.

Kili laughed sheepishly. “Oh.”

“There’s no real hard and fast rule, but generally speaking, it usually is the men that make the first move.” You told him, a thumb rubbing his cheek. “I don’t mind waiting, though. I’m pretty patient. And the flowers you picked for me are very beautiful.”

“So it starts with flowers. What comes after?”

“It doesn’t always start with flowers, but they are definitely a good way to tell someone you’re interested. After that, they usually ask you on a date. They’ll take you somewhere, a restaurant or a theater or somewhere more creative than that. They might hold your hand or kiss you. If the date goes well, you usually plan another one.”

He smiled, his eyes exploring yours. “That sounds fun.”

“It is sometimes.”

“And then what?”

“And then, after a handful of dates, they ask you to be their partner, their boyfriend or girlfriend. And you keep going on dates and getting to know eachother. Sometimes you move in together, sometimes you wait. And after a long while, they propose.”

“Propose…?”

“Right. Um, they propose a marriage engagement. A betrothal, I guess you would call it.”

“Ah.” He smiled, nodding as he took in the information. “Well, I will need more details on how to properly do that when the time comes.” Kili took your hands. “But for now, I’m going to teach you how to do courtship braids.”

Kili fetched a brush from the desk and returned to you, gently brushing the tangles out of your hair. “Now, the courtship braids are typically done to mirror one another, so that when we’re standing side by side, they’ll be next to each other.” He told you, pressing a kiss to your cheek and then your neck.

You flushed at his warmth, at the softness of his lips against your tender skin. “That’s romantic.”

“It is.” He agreed. “Which side would you like yours on?”

“The right.”

Kili began to very expertly braid the hair on the right side of your head. It was something similar to the French braids you’d done as a girl, although it didn’t incorporate all of your hair. It sat in the middle of the hair on the right side of your head, some hair in front of and behind it. Once he reached the ends of your hair, he secured it with the courting bead he had spent so long crafting.

And then, you did the same to him, on the left side of his head. He talked you through the process with encouragement and soft laughter, and at the end, you decided it looked pretty good. Kili helped you secure it in a way that would ensure it wouldn’t come out. The bead looked good against his dark hair, contrasting well.

Once it was in place, Kili cupped your face in his warm, calloused hands, touching his nose to yours. He exhaled a long breath.

“I love you, (Y/N).” He said the words slowly, significantly. They sat heavy on his tongue. He gazed into your eyes. “I want to build a life with you and now that we’re here…it finally feels real.”

“I know what you mean,” you whispered. “I can’t imagine a life without you in it.”

You knew then that the two of you were sitting in the eye of the storm, that in a few days or maybe longer, there would be elves and men and orcs at the front gates of Erebor, ready for battle. You didn’t know what the future held, not for certain. But you knew as long as you lived, you would always love Kili, whether or not you got to spend that time by his side.

You had loved Kili since he was mere paper and ink to you, you loved him now that he was flesh and blood and warmth, and you would love him forever, even if he was just a distant memory.

And so, you kissed him with a little more passion that night, held him a little tighter in your arms, relished in the feeling of his skin against yours, his hair between your fingers, and his lips slotted to your own. You loved him like it was your last night together, and for all you knew, it was.

***

The next morning, sun streamed through the window, casting the room in color and light. By the time you opened your eyes, Kili was still asleep on the pillow beside you, deep snores rumbling from his lips and one of his thick arms around your waist. His courting bead glistened in his braid, the only one adorning his soft hair.

You admired him for a long, quiet moment. He looked so peaceful. Your handsome prince. You pondered it for a bit, what your wedding might look like. What your life together would look like after. The details were fuzzy and uncertain, but your heart ached to know, to get that chance when all the dust had settled.

His face did look rather human, you supposed, taking his face into consideration now that you finally had a good, long, intimate look at it. The others in the company, aside from maybe Thorin and Fili, all had a very different look about them, something more distinctly dwarvish that you couldn’t put a finger on. Perhaps it was their noses. But Kili…if he were a little taller, he’d fit seamlessly into your own realm, you were sure.

You laughed internally at the thought. You weren’t sure what Kili would think of your realm, in all honesty. It was quite different than the one you had spent the last several months in, that was for sure.

Kili stirred, blinking a few times before his eyes truly settled on you, bathed in sunlight on the pillow in front of him. He smiled.

“Good morning.” He whispered, his voice impossibly deep with sleep. He reached up to brush the stray hairs out of your face. “You know, I had quite the dream last night.”

“Whatever might it have been about?”

“It had something to do with…you and I…” He murmured, scooching closer, his arms pulling you so close to him that you now shared just one pillow, mere inches between your faces. His leg slotted between your legs and his lips did not hesitate to begin exploring your own.

You smiled against him, a hand wandering into his hair to keep his face close to yours while the other found itself curled against his hairy chest. He deepened the kiss, drawing a hum from the depths of your throat.

He stopped to look at you.

“You know, I think I had the same dream.” You told him, eyes scanning every detail of his face, committing it all to memory. You wanted to remember this, how you felt in this exact moment, the honeymoon-like bliss of this first morning.

“Really…” He murmured in mock shock. “How strange.”

“Very.” You giggled a bit before finally confessing, “Kili, is now a bad time to tell you I’ve had a crush on you since I was twelve?”

His face lit up, that youthful smile you’d fallen in love with quick to overtake his features. “I knew it!” He laughed triumphantly. “I knew there was something in your eyes that night. That’s why you recognized me before you recognized the others.”

You smiled, coy. “Perhaps.”

He stole another long kiss.

“Don’t let it go to your head.” You smirked.

He grinned, mischievous. “Pshh, me? Never. But I don’t think it’ll come as a shock to the others that I’ve been your favorite dwarf since the very beginning. You’re not very good at hiding it, you know.”

“Really. Good to know; I’ll have to make more of an effort, then.”

He touched the tip of his nose to yours. “Well…I wouldn’t worry about hiding it too much. I think they can handle the news. They’ll just have to accept the fact that I’ve won the race to your heart.”

“There wasn’t anyone else in the running. It’s only ever been you.”

Kili smirked, kissing you one last time before saying, “I know.”

The two of you got dressed for the day and walked down to breakfast together, hand in hand. Bilbo perked up at the sight of you, smiling warmly when he saw your matching braids tied with matching beads.

“Good morning, lovebirds.”

“Morning, Bilbo.”

“Sleep well?” The hobbit asked innocently, sipping a cup of tea.

Gloin chuckled and muttered, “I’m not sure they did much sleeping, lad,” which caused said hobbit to promptly choke on said tea.

You laughed and sat down in the spot you’d been sitting the night previous, beside Kili, who got you each a serving of food. By now, he knew all of your favorites by heart. He set the plate in front of you and punctuated it with a long kiss on your cheek. Now this you could get used to.

It was so nice to have everything out in the open, not that it had been that much of a secret before. Now there was just one last challenge to conquer, that of your lover’s impending doom.

The rest of the dwarves trickled in slowly, grabbing some breakfast before taking a seat at the long table. Thorin was the last of them and he looked absolutely exhausted. There were dark bags beneath his eyes, a slowness to his step. He sat at the end of the table all at once. It could have been the new environment causing this, you reasoned. An unfamiliar bed, an unfamiliar peace and quiet that he hadn’t been accustomed to on the road. There was, however, a little voice in the back of your head that warned of what would happen to Thorin because of all of the gold in that seemingly endless treasure room.

You’d forgotten about it until now, and you deeply hoped you were wrong.

Your concerns subsided a bit when he noticed the beads in yours and Kili’s hair and smiled, proud of his nephew. Thorin was still in there. He could be reasoned with, you were sure. Although, you weren’t sure how long that would last.

Once he got some food, he started the meeting.

“So, Book Keeper, Smaug is dead. What comes next?”

You were quiet for a moment, figuring how best to word it. “So…they call it the Battle of Five Armies.”

“Battle…?” some of the dwarves murmured.

“The five armies being the dwarves, the men of Laketown, the elves of Mirkwood, and two groups of orcs, or, in some interpretations, the orcs and their wargs. It’s…well, it’s not good. First, the men and the elves will come. The men will want compensation for slaying Smaug, and also the gold they were promised while we were in town. The elves come because…well, because Thranduil wants pretty elvish gems or something…”

Thorin nodded. “The white gems. I am familiar.”

“Right. And the orcs come because…they’re orcs. I don’t really know their motivation other than the fact that they crave violence. When the orcs arrive, the elves and men aid us in the battle, but there are…casualties.” You said the word carefully, trying to hide how much it hurt. You knew Kili noticed, though. Sometimes, you swore he felt your emotions.

“Are there more dwarves than just us, lass?” Dwalin spoke up, leaning against the table as he weight the information you were presenting.

“Yes. I believe you call for your cousin, Dain and his forces. They arrive and they do fight alongside everyone else.”

“I’ll send for him today, then.”

You nodded. “That would probably be a good idea, yeah. Um, Gandalf said he was going to check on the status of things, to see where the elves were, I think.”

Thorin was quiet for a moment before asking the one question you were fearing. “And what of the Arkenstone? Is it here?”

“It is here. Somewhere. I’m not sure exactly where though. The book tends to skim over details like that sometimes.” It wasn’t technically a lie. You didn’t know where it was, although you did have a pretty good estimate…

Thorin nodded, his face serious. He thought for a long moment. “We’ll need to get the forges going as soon as possible, ready armor and weapons for battle. The bedrooms and kitchens will need to be prepared. We are about to have several guests…”

The king beneath the mountain designated roles to the party to prepare the place for war. Balin stayed at the table to ask you further questions.

“So what are we to do when they arrive at the gates, lass?” He quieted his voice despite the fact that the king had gone down to the treasure room with his nephews to look for the Arkenstone. “Would Thorin not have honored his promise?”

“He, um…” You shook your head. “Things are going to get weird around here. He succumbs to dragon sickness; it clouds his judgement. He breaks his promise to the men and hesitates to join the fight at all, despite the fact that his people are out there fighting the attacking orcs. I’m hoping we can steer him otherwise this time around, but…it might be difficult to break through to him.”

“If anyone can, I’m sure it’s us.” Balin nodded. His face fell, though, before he asked the next question on his mind. “And these…casualties?”

You were quiet for a long, long moment. You opened your mouth to speak, but instead, you burst into tears.

“Oh, lass…” Balin stepped closer, putting an arm around you to comfort you.

You flipped to the page in the book and handed it to Balin, marking the second time ever someone other than you had gotten a glimpse inside of it, and at that same section, too. Balin read it silently and nodded, solemn.

“I feared as much.”

“It’s…that’s the reason I’m here at all.” You finally admitted, wiping the tears from your cheeks. Balin offered you a handkerchief. “When Gandalf came to me…that was my end of the deal, the promise that I could…change things. Save him. Save all of them.” You took a shaking breath. “It’s not written in that part, but…Thorin doesn’t make it either…”

“Mmm…” Balin hummed, his voice low. “Does anyone else know?”

“Bilbo does.” You confessed. “He, um…found me crying about it in Laketown the night before we left. But that’s it. Just you two. And Gandalf, obviously.”

“I wouldn’t tell the lads.” He advised, his voice trembling the smallest bit. “I think it would make them nervous. Could make it worse.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, but…Kili knows there’s something going on. I don’t know if I’ll be able to hide it from him.”

“He loves you.” Balin nodded. “And I know you love him, too. And I know how much it must have hurt you to carry it this long. But I will not let that happen to either of them and I know you will not either. We saw what happened with the dragon…maybe there’s a way to bring that power in you out again.”

You nodded, considering it. “That’s actually a really good idea.”

Balin rested his hand atop yours. “We’ll figure it out, lass.”

***

Later that day, the dwarves congregated on the training grounds to brush up on battle skills. Kili had spent most of the afternoon readying the archery range while the others sharpened weapons and reinforced shields. Thorin was the only one not present. He was still searching the treasure room for that damn Arkenstone.

Balin had informed the others of the plan, to awaken that magic inside of you again, so they were all brainstorming methods of doing so.

“Maybe it has to do with the fire.” Nori suggested. “The fire of the dragon oncoming.”

“Perhaps…” Balin nodded.

“Worth a try.” You agreed.

“Here goes.” Gloin shrugged, preparing a flaming torch.

Kili’s eyes widened, stepping between you and the flame. “Now wait just a second, are we sure this is the best way to figure it out?”

“The lad is right.” Oin nodded. “There was real danger involved with the dragon. Perhaps it’s the intensity of the battle that sets her off.”

“No!” Kili protested. “Does anyone have any ideas that do not involve hurting my beloved?”

The others laughed, thinking for a moment.

Dwalin had a mischievous look on his face. “I have a theory.” Then, out of nowhere, he threw a dagger at Kili.

Without even thinking, your hand shot out in front of you and before the dagger made contact with Kili, it bounced away, defying the laws of physics as though it had hit a bubble, clattering to the ground moments later.

Everyone stood there in shock, staring at you and Kili and your outstretched hand.

“Oh.” You said softly, lowering your arm and staring at your palm.

“The lass wasn’t the only one in danger that day, remember.” Dwalin crossed his arms, smirking proudly. “She’s a protector, whether she’s realized it or not.”

“She’s been protecting us with her knowledge all this time.” Balin agreed with his brother and took your hand. “And now, you’ve found a magic of your own.”

“And I intend to use it.” You told the rest of them. “I came all this way. We all did. I’m…I’m not going to let anything happen to any of you. This battle is the reason I’m here; the rest of it was just the icing on the cake.”

“We trust you.” Fili said, meeting your eyes. “We all do.”

Your heart ached. It was still scary, thinking of the oncoming battle and everything it could cost if you didn’t succeed. But this power inside of you, this love you held for the company, you knew it wouldn’t let you down. You knew you wouldn’t let them down.

You couldn’t.

***

That night, you didn’t get very much sleep. It started with a nightmare. Your subconscious had chosen this exact moment to remind you that you had watched the extended edition of the Battle of Five Armies once. Seeing Kili lifeless and pale, laying on that stone slab, lit by gentle flickering lights…You’d all but forgotten what their funeral had looked like. You wish you’d never remembered.

You woke with a start, sitting straight up and breathing heavy, trying to clear the image from your mind. There would be no funeral. It was fine. Everything was fine. Except, that didn’t seem to stop the tears from flowing.

Kili was still sleeping. You didn’t want to wake him; he’d need his rest for the days to come. So, you slipped out of the bed as quietly as you could and walked through the halls to the kitchens. Dori had been kind enough to organize all of the tea and polish some of the teapots. You put on a kettle and waited for the water to boil.

You heard footsteps coming down the hall and wiped at your tears, partially expecting it to be Kili. You were surprised, however, when it was Bofur that came through the doorway.

“I knew I heard someone in here. Thought you might be my brother.” He chuckled. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nightmare.” You told him, shrugging when the kettle started to scream. You pulled it off of the hot burner and switched off the heat, pouring yourself a cup of hot water and beginning to steep some Chamomile in it.

“Ah…Sorry to hear that, lass.” He nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I kind of…can’t. It’s about the days to come…” You sighed. “Specifically about the worst possible outcome.”

“I see.” Bofur hummed. “Well, if it is what I think it is…I don’t foresee it happening. You’ve kept us out of trouble. This too will pass.”

You nodded, sniffling. “I’m just scared. I know I can do it, especially after training today, but…if I fail…”

“Right.” He nodded. “I had nightmares before we left home, you know. Us dwarves…we all pretend to be so fearless, but I was very afraid we wouldn’t make it here. That it would all be for nothing. I know you fear…losing him. But I think he fears losing you too, lass. Sometimes, fear is all that’s keeping us alive.”

You were quiet for a long moment, letting it sink in. Bofur was right. “You’re wiser than the others give you credit for, you know.”

He laughed. “Yeah, well…you pick up some things in your travels.”

You sipped your warm tea.

“The courting braid suits you.” He noted. “Do you mind if I take a closer look at the bead Kili made?”

“I don’t mind.” You lifted the braid from your shoulder and presented it to him so he could see.

Bofur’s eyes scanned the bead and he smiled. “I saw him working on it on the boat to Laketown. I don’t think he knew then that you had plans of making one at all.” He chuckled. “I could tell he was getting desperate to tell you how he felt.”

“Oh yeah. He had Fili ask me for human courting rituals.”

“Now that, I did not know.” Bofur laughed. “Hence the wildflowers, I presume.”

“Yeah, exactly.” You giggled, taking another sip of tea.

Another set of footsteps trekked down the hallway, this time coming from the direction of the royal chambers. Sure enough, it was Kili. He looked relieved when he found you.

“There you are, Amrâlimê.” He walked into the kitchen. “Are you alright? Why did you leave?”

“I had a nightmare.” You confessed. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Have you been crying?” He noticed your tearstained cheeks as he got closer, his warm fingers slotting into their place along your jaw.

“A bit.” You nodded.

“Come back to bed.” He whispered, kissing your nose. His other hand slipped into yours and squeezed.

“Okay.” A tear slipped down your cheek and he was quick to wipe it away, leading you back down the halls to your shared room after the two of you bid a final goodnight to Bofur.

Kili closed the door behind you and walked to the bed, pulling the covers open for you. You settled back onto the comfortable mattress, laying on your side.

“Now, what is it that has you so worked up, my love?” He whispered, an arm settling around your waist. “You’ve been crying a lot lately, haven’t you?”

You responded with more tears, crawling into his arms and burying your face in his shoulder. He held you tight, doing his best to comfort you with his touch.

“Oh, hey, hey, it’s alright. We’re alright.” He said, his voice soft and sincere. “You don’t have to tell me if it hurts too much. Is it nightmares about spiders?”

“No…” You shook your head, your voice muffled by the fabric of his sleep shirt.

“Goblins? Smaug?”

“No.”

“Mmm, so something very scary, then?”

You took a shaking breath. “The scariest thing I can imagine.”

“Hmmm…” He hummed thoughtfully, his hand gently stroking your hair. “Do you want to know what the scariest moment of this trip has been for me?”

“What?”

“When that goblin king hoisted you into the air by the ends of your hair, dangling you above the rest of us, threatening to torture you right in front of me mere hours after I’d finally gotten to hold you in my arms for the first time.” He shook his head. “And the second was when that accursed dragon hurt you and started threatening you. My worst nightmare…is losing you.”

You took a shaking breath, pulling away so you could look into his eyes, bathed in the moonlight streaming through the window.

“I put the pieces together a while ago.” His voice shook. “I know…I’m not meant to survive the battle. In the story you read growing up, anyways.”

A tear rolled from your eye and your breath caught in your throat. “Kili…”

“I thought it might be the dragon that got me. I didn’t know there would be…more danger after.” His thumb expertly swiped your tear away. “And I don’t blame you for not telling me. But I’m not scared. Not of that.”

“Why?”

“It’s like you told Smaug. My ending is getting a rewrite, and I trust you with the pen.” He touched his nose to yours. “The way I see it, I know for certain I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you, whether I have two more days or two more centuries.”

You kissed him, your lips salty with tears, and his moving gently against yours. “I love you.” You sobbed.

“I know you do.” He kissed you again before rolling over and pulling you on top of him. His lips gently pecked the top of your head and he held you tight as you cried against him. “I love you too.”

***

The next day was the day Dain’s forces arrived. Thorin and the others escorted the new dwarves into Erebor and they began preparing for war, forging weapons, adjusting armor, training battle skills. Sometime in the early afternoon, Thranduil, Bard, and their armies arrived at the front gate.

You sat nearby, hidden within the walls, listening as Thorin and the dwarves heatedly debated with them. Thorin refused to give up his treasures, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the dragon sickness or if he knew they’d need their help when the orcs arrived the following day.

“Dwarves, I know you are hiding your precious little Book Keeper within those walls.” Thranduil’s arrogant voice echoed from the back of his reindeer to your very ears.

Your eyes went wide, heart racing as you listened.

“Bring her to me for a…discussion, or we begin our attack immediately.”

“Thranduil, this is madness.” You heard Bard rebuttle.

“Madness or not, I would like a glimpse into the future as well. I believe it’s only fair.”

“You’ll not have a single word with her!” Thorin shouted.

“Thorin…” Balin reasoned. “Let’s think about this.”

“What is there to think about?” Kili joined the conversation. “She is my beloved, not a bargaining piece.”

You stood up and walked to the dwarves. “I’ll go.”

Kili turned around and shook his head. “No. Amrâlimê, who knows what he wants with you? There has to be another way.”

“Maybe I can reason with them, get them all on the same page about the battle.” You tilted your head and reached into your bag, pulling out the book and handing it to Kili. His eyes widened. He’d never touched it before, let alone been entrusted with its wellbeing. “Look after this until I get back, okay?”

Kili took the book and nodded, his eyes serious. You leaned forward and pressed a long kiss to his lips before walking through the front gates. And while you were distracting the rest of the party, Bilbo was able to slip away unnoticed as well.

Thranduil looked over you with curious eyes. They were almost unnaturally blue, celestial. His hair was long, platinum blond like his son’s had been that brief moment you saw him. “Come, child.” He held out his hand and you took it, allowing him to pull you onto the back of his reindeer and take you to the ruins of Dale, where the elves and the men were camped together.

When you got to the tent where the leaders had been planning, you were pretty surprised to find Gandalf already there.

“Book Keeper, I apologize for the elf king’s…brashness. He did not believe me that you existed.” Gandalf apologized.

“It’s okay.” You assured him.

“So, tell me Book Keeper. How is it you are able to tell the future of our world? And how were you able to sneak through my palace unnoticed?”

“I have a book about the dwarves’ adventure from my realm. Where I’m from, all of this is a work of fiction. That’s how I know what’s going to happen.” You told him. “And I didn’t sneak through unnoticed. I was actually spotted by several of your guards. They all thought I was an elf, including your son.”

Thranduil stared at you with those weird, big blue eyes. He looked kinda pissed, but he was graceful about it.

“She speaks the truth.” Bard said, his eyes grateful. “Without her warning, Smaug would have burned Laketown to splinters. I was able to shoot him down before he even reached the edge of town because she told me exactly where and how and with what to shoot him. It worked.”

“I’m glad I could help.” You told him.

“She means well, Thranduil.”

“I will be the judge of that.” The elven king tilted his head, his voice cool and emotionless. “Tell me, Book Keeper, do you know why I am here?”

“You want the white gems in Erebor.”

“They belong to me.”

“That seems to be subjective.” You replied.

“How dare you, you insolent girl—”

“Thranduil, please.” Gandalf calmed him.

“What of the men, then?” Thranduil challenged, crossing his arms.

“The dwarves promised them gold in exchange for the weapons we were gifted in Laketown.” You replied. “And Thorin is being…stubborn on the matter, admittedly.”

“I have tried to argue that your tip about Smaug and the value of his hide outweighs the dwarves’ debt.” Bard informed you. “My people are being stubborn about it as well.”

“No, they’re right. Thorin should pay you for everything you all did for us. I can try to convince him, but I’m not sure he’ll budge.” You shared a look with Gandalf that told the wizard everything he needed to know.

“There is a larger problem at stake here, is there not, Book Keeper?” Gandalf pushed. “Larger than sums of gold or indebted jewels.”

“There are orcs coming. They’ll be here tomorrow. If we don’t all band together to fight them, to finish them off, they will not stop until all of Middle Earth is conquered, all of your people killed.” You told them.

“Why should I believe a word you say?” Thranduil’s eyebrows furrowed and his eyes settled in your hair. “How do I know this is not a distraction to pull my focus from what matters to me? Is that not a dwarven courting bead braided into your hair? Your interests are vested.”

“I do have a vested interest in the dwarves; of course I do. They’re my best friends, my family. One of them is the love of my life. But I have a vested interest in the rest of Middle Earth, too. I grew up on the stories of this place, stories about you, about your son, Legolas and the amazing things he’ll accomplish someday. But if the world is overrun by orcs, I don’t think any of that will happen. Sure, in the short term, the dwarves and the men would get wiped out and you’d be able to hide in Mirkwood, but you wouldn’t be able to hide forever. They’ll get you eventually and it will have all been for nothing, your eternal life wasted when you could have changed the outcome.”

Thranduil was quiet for a long moment, processing your monologue. “And say I do help you…Will you guarantee I am given what I am owed?”

“You have my word.”

Bilbo appeared in the entrance of the tent, tucking his ring into his pocket. “I’ve brought some…insurance that Thorin will pay after the Battle.”

“Bilbo?” Gandalf raised his eyebrows.

“Hello, Gandalf.” Bilbo reached into his coat and presented the Arkenstone, at which Bard’s eyes widened. “Thorin values this gem more than anything. Surely if you present it to him, he will give you what he’s promised in return.”

“How is this yours to give?” Bard murmured.

Bilbo shrugged. “I took it as my 14th share of the treasure in the mountain. With the guidance of a certain Book Keeper, of course.”

You looked from Thranduil to Bard. “Please.”

“If you can provide the women and children of Laketown safety during the battle, I swear every man will fight to the last breath.” Bard offered.

“Done.” You agreed.

Thranduil stared at the Arkenstone for a long, long while before meeting your eyes again. “Since it is orcs and not just dwarves we will be fighting…I’ll call for reinforcements.”

You exhaled in relief. “Thank you.”

“We have been collecting dragon hide from Smaug.” Bard added. “It seems only fitting to offer the dwarves some for armor.”

“Thank you, Bard. Also…do me a favor and pretend Bilbo didn’t give you the Arkenstone. Claim you…found it inside of Smaug’s remains…or something.” You asked. “It’ll save us all some trouble with the king under the mountain.”

“Done.” Thranduil nodded. “Now, my son will escort you back to Erebor, if you so please.”

Your eyes widened. “Um, sure. Thank you, your highness.”

Bilbo stuck around to talk to Gandalf for a moment while you walked outside the tent to find Legolas standing there with an amused grin.

“I saved you that dance.” He teased.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve actually…got a prince of my own waiting for me in Erebor.”

“Well, he is very lucky, then.” Legolas took your arm. He led you to his horse and helped you up onto the back of it. “I could not help but overhear that you’ve heard stories of me, where you’re from?”

“Yeah. About sixty years from now, you kind of save the world. It’s pretty awesome.”

“Mmm.” Legolas nodded, impressed. “Good to know. And I suppose you’ll be around to guide us then as well?”

“I hope so.”

The ride back to Erebor was rather short. Legolas dropped you off at the bridge, where Kili was pacing outside. He lit up when he saw you’d returned, rushing to you immediately and handing the book back to you.

“How did it go?”

“Really well, actually.” You told him, pressing your lips to his for a moment before asking, “Where’s your uncle?”

“He’s…in the treasure room.” Balin answered. “I’ll go fetch him.”

Kili walked with you back inside, his hand tight in yours. The dwarves all assembled in the throne room. Thorin, who was now wearing a large gold and silver crown on his head, sat on the throne carved from stone. He really did look the part, now.

“What did they say?” Thorin asked. “Negotiating for treasure, no doubt.”

“Partially. I told them of the orcs that are coming and…they’ve all agreed to help fight. Thranduil, in exchange for the white gems, and Bard in exchange for the gold they were promised in Laketown and the safety of their women and children during the battle.” You explained, heart racing as you watched the expression on Thorin’s face for any sign of anger. “Bard is also sending us pieces of Smaug’s hide to make armor from. They’ve been…dismantling the dragon.”

“Mmm…” Thorin hummed and then went quiet for an uncomfortable amount of time. “Book Keeper, I must admit, I am quite impressed.” He nodded, a proud look on his face. “You will make a fine princess one day.”

“Thank you.” You exhaled in relief. “The orcs will be here tomorrow, rather early in the day. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Then we will spend all night preparing.” Thorin decided. “Dwarves, to your stations. We must prepare for war.”

***

Not long after your negotiation with the other camps, the women and children of Laketown came to the gates of Erebor. At Thorin’s request, you helped them get situated and comfortable. Being a human woman yourself, the king under the mountain knew you would be able to offer them some peace of mind.

You and Dori passed out blankets and pillows and food, making sure everyone got settled in the room Thorin had designated for them. It was tucked pretty far into the mountain, so he knew they’d be safe.

You spotted Sigrid and Tilda in there with their brother Bain, discussing something. Sigrid looked up and spotted you, smiling.

“Hey, glad you guys made it. Everything going okay?”

“We’re doing well,” Sigrid smiled. “Da said you warned him about the dragon. Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course. I…your whole town was so kind to us, I couldn’t imagine letting it happen without giving you some kind of warning.” You told her, handing the girls some blankets.

“What’s that bead in your hair?” Tilda asked, pointing to the silver band holding your braid together. “It’s new, right?”

“It’s a courting bead, from Kili.” You told her, smiling.

Sigrid gasped, excited. “Does that mean that you’re finally together?”

“At long last.” You confirmed, giggling. “Yeah, he’s…he’s amazing.”

“Is that him?” Tilda pointed to the doorway and sure enough, Kili was standing there, scanning the crowd for you.

You thought it was kind of funny. Among the dwarves, you’d always stood out like a sore thumb. You were the tallest of the company, just barely taller that Dwalin, and therefore, you’d been easy to spot among them, but now, surrounded by your own kind, he had some trouble seeing you.

“Over here.” You waved, drawing his attention.

He entered the room, walking to you and taking your hand. After a moment, he recognized Bard’s kids and nodded in greeting. “If you don’t mind too much, I need to borrow our Book Keeper, get her fitted for some armor.”

“Of course.” Sigrid smiled. “Congratulations, by the way.”

Kili straightened up a bit when she said it, proud. “Thank you.”

As the two of you walked to the forges, where the others were hard at work, he pulled your hand to his lips for a kiss.

He grinned mischievously and glanced over at you. “You told them?”

“Of course I did. I’m very proud to be yours, my prince.” You said it kind of teasingly. With the other dwarves and elves and men in Erebor for the battle, the formalities were a bit more important now than they had been during the rest of the journey, bit it still felt weird addressing him with his title.

His cheeks reddened. “You don’t have to call me that, you know.”

You winked. “I know.”

“Uncle wants me to wear a crown.” He sounded annoyed talking about it. “I don’t know, it just doesn’t feel like the time for that.”

“Things will calm down after tomorrow. Reach some kind of normalcy.”

“I hope you’re right.”

You shrugged. “I usually am. It’s part of my job.”

He chuckled and shook his head at you. The two of you walked into the armory, where Dwalin was anxiously waiting for you, large pieces of Smaug’s hide waiting on a table in front of him.

“Woah…” You murmured, looking at it. “That is…wild.”

“It’s quite tough. We tested some weapons against it and most of the blades can’t pierce it.” Dwalin agreed. “Our prince here has requested that your armor be made from it.”

“Oh.” You looked over at Kili. “He has, has he?”

He took your hand with both of his, pulling it to his chest and looking up at you with those warm brown eyes. “I want you to be protected, Amrâlimê. You insist on fighting alongside us tomorrow and I know I cannot change your opinion on it, but I need to know you’ll be safe.”

“I want you to be safe, too.”

“We’re reinforcing the company’s armor as well, at Thorin’s request.” Bofur informed you from the next stall over, holding a weapon so hot it was glowing bright red.

“Good.” That did make you feel quite a bit better.

“I need your measurements, lassie. Thought you might be more comfortable if your beloved did it.” He handed Kili a tape measure and a pad of paper and winked at the dwarf prince, who chuckled and walked with you to a more private corner.

It was sort of intimate in a weird kind of way, Kili taking measurements for your breastplate, the sleeves, the length of your shoulders. And when you were done, he relayed the information to Dwalin to make sure your armor would fit correctly.

Afterwards, the two of you left the armory.

“What does Thorin have you doing for the rest of the day?” Kili asked.

“I’m on Laketown duty with Dori. Making sure all the people are comfortable, bringing them food…”

“Mmm…” Kili nodded. “Do you have anything…pressing to be doing right now?”

“Not particularly.” You answered.

“Good.” Kili grabbed your wrist and pulled you into a small storage room in the hallway. He pushed you against the wall and crushed his lips to yours, passion in every movement. You always forgot how strong he was until moments like this.

You let his lips explore your own for a good long while, limbs mingling with each other’s bodies, your fingers wandering into his soft black hair. You knew you wouldn’t have many of these moments left. In fact, this might be your last one, so you made the most of it, kissing him in a way he wouldn’t soon forget. And once you each came down from the high of your love for one another, he spent a long, quiet moment admiring your features.

“I’ll never tire of that.” He whispered, gazing up at you. “Although, I hope that the moments we steal after the battle will last longer than this.”

You leaned down and kissed him, your lips soft and slow. He melted against you, his eyes fluttering shut as he stood on his toes to be able to reach them. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him to you. It wasn’t often the two of you embraced while standing, and it was made clear why almost immediately, as Kili’s face only reached your chest, but he didn’t seem to care, his arms tight around your waist.

You rested your head against his, exhaling a long breath and just letting him hold you for a moment. “It’s going to be a long, long night, my love…” You murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

He chuckled darkly. “It already is.”

“What does Thorin have you doing?” You asked.

“Weapon maintenance, mostly.” He shrugged. “He has Fili doing a lot more.” He looked up at you, fingers gently touching your courtship braid. “I sharpened your swords.”

Your heart just about melted. “Thank you.”

“I want to make you some new ones…when things settle, of course. Some daggers, too, if you want. I’m admittedly not a very good weaponsmith, but Dwalin’s offered to teach me. It’s a dwarf thing…crafting gifts for your One, especially while courting.”

You smiled. “That’s really sweet.”

“You think so?”

“I can’t wait to learn more. All of this is still new to me.”

“Of course it is…we dwarves love our secrets.” He took your hand and pressed a kiss to each of your fingers, one by one. “And I cannot wait to tell you each and every single one of them.”

You nuzzled your nose against his. “That makes two of us.”

***

Once the sun set, the mothers started getting their children ready for bed, but many of them had trouble getting their kids to sleep. Gandalf wandered into the room, smoking his pipe. With him, he had a small red book tucked under his arm.

“Book Keeper,” he smiled, that familiar glimmer in his eye. “I’ve brought you another. Thought a story might help get the young ones to bed.”

“Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs,” you read from the cover, chuckling. “Seems appropriate.”

Gandalf nodded. “Quite.”

You rounded up all the kids for a storytime and they sat expectantly in front of you, waiting for you to begin. “Now, this is a story from my realm. There are dwarves in it, sure, but they’re not a lot like the dwarves here in Middle Earth. Their names are a little silly; there’s one named Sneezy and another named Sleepy.” Some of the kids giggled at that.

“Is there a princess?” Asked a little voice.

“Of course there is. Her name is Snow White and she is the fairest in all the land.”

“How about a handsome prince? Is there one of those?” Fili’s voice asked from the back of the room, a smirk on his face.

“There does so happen to be a handsome prince, yeah.”

“Is he a dwarf?” Kili asked, taking a seat beside his brother.

“Unlike my own, no, he’s not, unfortunately.” You smirked at him. “Come here, you wanna help me read this?”

“I suppose I could.” Kili stumbled forward, getting a little push from his brother. “But only if I get to be Sneezy.”

You smiled as he sat beside you, looking over the cover of the little red book in your hand. As the two of you read the story to the children, alternating lines, he couldn’t help but do something he’d thought was impossible: somehow, he managed to fall even more in love with you.

***

After the kids were all asleep, Thorin called the company together one last time. You all stood in a circle, Gandalf finally with you all once again.

“Tomorrow is a fateful day for us all.” Thorin looked to each member of the group. He was wearing the crown of the king and looked extremely regal. He had been born for this, raised for it. You could only hope that you’d be able to protect the line of Durin when the battle finally arrived. Maybe it was the waiting that was the worst part.

You let out a sigh, closing your eyes. Kili took your hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Burglar, Book Keeper, thank you for everything you have done for us.” Thorin pressed his lips together. “This may be our last night as a company. I do not know what tomorrow holds for us, and for the sake of our confidence…” he made eye contact with you and you could tell that some part of him must have known, “I do not wish to have any more glimpses into our future.”

“Understood.” You nodded.

His closing words sent a chill down your spine. “Eat well. Get as much sleep as you can. Tomorrow, we defend our home.”

You settled between Kili and Fili, managing to get some food down despite the sinking feeling in your stomach. It was rather quiet, given the volume you’d come to expect from the group assembled around you. One last night with them…one last night together before your new life in a still-strange land would get turned upside down for better or worse.

Some of the dwarves played instruments they had, turning to music even in their darkest moments. Bifur was sitting in the corner of the room, carving something out of wood with his knife. You leaned on Kili, your head resting against his. You felt the warmth of his arm around your waist.

Unsure of what else to do, really, you pulled out the book one last time and skimmed the words about the battle. But that was the problem: there wasn’t much. Bilbo passed out in the version in your hands, was unconscious for the majority of the action and only came to when Fili and Kili were already dead and Thorin was dying from his wounds. Not particularly helpful.

You shook your head and shut the book. You gazed into the flames for a very long time, considering chucking it in there and watching it get devoured, but you decided against it. For one, it was your only copy, and for two, you weren’t sure exactly what was tying you to Middle Earth and you didn’t want to risk getting yeeted away early. So, instead, you got up off of the floor and walked across the room, handing it to Gandalf.

“You may yet need this.” He said, his eyes twinkling with something unrecognizable.

“There’s not a lot about the battle in it…”

He looked rather surprised. “There’s not?”

You paused for a long moment. “Gandalf…do you not know what’s in the book?”

“I’ll admit, I don’t know the specifics, dear.” He chuckled and blew his pipe. “I know the big things, sure, but not every detail.”

You stared at him for another long moment. “Okay…interesting. Anyway…will you hold onto it for me? Just in case?”

“Ah. For safekeeping.” He nodded and took the book from you. “I will see that it is returned to you promptly after the battle.”

“Thank you.” You turned and walked back to where you had been sitting before, where Kili was anxiously waiting for you. Before you could settle into your original spot, he pulled you onto his lap and pressed a long kiss to your cheek. You closed your eyes and basked in his warmth and the warmth of the fire.

You looked to each member of the company in attendance, the once-timid Bilbo, your future brother-in-law, the two who had taught you how to show Kili just how much he meant to you, the healer who had treated your dragon-inflicted wound, the quiet scribe who had been writing down every detail of the adventure. It went on and on. Each dwarf had put their own unique fingerprint on your heart.

Bifur walked up to you and muttered something in Khuzdul, handing you something small. When you examined it further, you found it to be a little wooden bird, the thing he had been carving the whole night.

“He said it’s for you, so you’ll remember him when you go back home.” Kili translated for you, his voice gentle and soft and a little sad.

“Oh, Bifur, it’s beautiful.” You choked back a sob and stood, hugging the gruff dwarf, who instantly returned the gesture. “I could never forget you.” You wiped your tears away. “I could never forget any of you. I’ll…I’ll treasure all of you for the rest of my life.”

You knew in your heart that was the truth. No matter what would unfold the next day, no matter where you wound up when it was all over, the company would live in your heart forever, you were sure. In fact, you didn’t think you could forget them if you wanted to. And you could only hope that when the battle came, you’d give them a reason to remember you, too.

***

When morning came, everyone was bustling through the lonely mountain, preparing for war. There was a nervous energy floating through the air. It was getting to you too. You couldn’t remember the last time your heart had been at its normal pace, but it had been racing all day.

Watching the dwarves armor up was surreal and haunting, especially watching Fili and Kili help each other into their armor. Dwalin carried your armor to you, glimmering and red, like the autumn leaves beyond the hills. You faltered, seeing it for the first time. Smaug had been evil, sure, but you couldn’t doubt the beauty in his scales. You could only hope they’d protect you now, that they’d protect all of you.

“Kili, get your beloved ready. The elf scouts have spotted something headed this way.” Dwalin called before leaving you to attend to other duties.

Kili immediately turned his attention to you, rushing over to help you into your armor. He guided your arms into the sleeves and fastened the straps in the back, his fingers moving quickly and expertly, securing it in place. It was pretty heavy, but you felt well-protected in it.

“How does that feel?” he asked, searching your face. “Too tight?”

“It feels good. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He nodded, his hand lingering in yours for a moment.

Tears welled in your eyes and his expression melted. He pulled your face down to his, resting his forehead against yours for a long moment. “Amrâlimê, I will be with you the entire time. Fili and I will not leave your side, I swear it.” He promised, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I will not let anything happen to you. None of us will.”

“I’m not worried about me.” Your voice broke and a tear slipped down your cheek.

His eyes met yours, his expression bittersweet. This was love, he felt it in his bones. Here, in the face of your first real battle, you were worried about him.

“Dwarves! Assume your stations!” Dain and his men walked briskly through the mountain, getting everyone ready.

You swallowed and closed your eyes, wiping at your tears and pulling away from Kili. Fili handed you your weapons, freshly sharpened and ready for battle, even if you weren’t.

“Nothing to worry about, Book Keeper,” the older prince reassured you, a hand on your shoulder and confidence in his voice. “We’ve got this.”

“I hope you’re right.”

You followed the rest of the company out of the mountain and onto the battlefield where, just as you’d predicted, the Orcs tunneled through the hills opposite you all, storming out in a mighty horde. Most were on foot, but some were on the backs of their wargs.

And thus, the battle began.

Because of your warnings in advance, there were forces ready in all the places you knew the Orcs were start, and more forces ready in the places the orcs would eventually reach. The elven archers took out a good number of them as they advanced, but more Orcs poured out of the tunnels and into the open field.

You followed Kili and Fili’s lead. They barely let any Orcs get to you, but the ones that did, you were quick to dispatch with your sword. It was intense, like everything was moving at two-times speed. You kept your eyes on the boys at all times, watching for anything that could possibly harm them. In the corner of your eye, you caught Thorin a few times and made sure he wasn’t getting hurt either.

You’d lost sight of Bilbo a long time ago, and the rest of the company was pretty well dispersed throughout the crowd.

“You…” A deep, gravelly voice hit your ears and your heart about leaped out of your chest.

Before you knew it, a large hand swung at you, taking you off of your feet. You skidded through the dirt, grimacing.

“(Y/N)!” Kili yelped, rushing towards you, but quickly pulled back by another large Orc.

“The little Book Keeper.” He laughed an awful laugh, towering over you in all of his horrific glory. “You do not belong here, human.”

“I keep hearing that, yeah.” You seethed, getting to your feet despite the blossoming bruises you could feel beneath your armor. “You must be Bolg.”

“In the flesh.”

“You didn’t hear about what happened to Smaug when he said that to me?” You asked, fire burning in your chest, tingling in your fingertips. “I’m wearing what’s left of him.”

“Confident for an Other Realmer. Such a shame to see it all go to waste for a miserable company of dwarves.” He chuckled. “Come with me instead. I could use your insight.”

“And just why the fuck would I do that?”

A blade pressed against your neck from behind, dangerously close to piercing the skin. You felt a strong, tree-like arm wrap around you and your feet left the ground. “In exchange for your life, perhaps?”

“NO!” Kili cried, killing three Orcs on his way to where you were standing, his brother beside him and his uncle not far behind.

Bolg paused, looking to where Kili stood, amused at the emotion on the dwarves’ face. He laughed cruelly. “This is more than concern for their prophet. This one loves you.”

Kili ran at Bolg, slicing through the armor on his thigh and piercing the skin. Bolg grabbed him by the neck and raised him up into the air to get a better look at him.

“And the prince, no less.” He plucked up Fili with his other hand, dangling both of them in the air in front of you, tiny and helpless, struggling against Bolg’s monstrous grip as he began slowly choking the life out of them. “The end of the line of Durin in my very hands.” He grinned, displaying his sharp teeth. “Tell me, girl, who will die first, the heir or the spare?”

“Neither.” You hissed, a hot tear winding down your face and that familiar, blistering power blooming inside you once more.

Thorin slayed the Orc holding you, and as soon as your feet touched the ground again, you thrust both of your hands forward at Bolg. The emotions poured out of your chest at the sight of Kili and Fili dying, their faces filled with pain, groans strained as he squeezed their vocal cords. The image of their funeral flashed in your mind one last time and something clicked inside you, unleashing hellfire upon Bolg and the rest of his wretched army.

For a moment, nothing happened, but then, a crater eroded in his chest, a blinding, golden light tearing him apart from the inside out. And in the same moment, the rest of the Orc army erupted into flame, the same fire you’d stolen from the dragon whose hide you were wearing as a chest plate.

“YOU WRETCHED LITTLE WITCHHHHH!” He hissed, dropping the brothers as he disintegrated before your very eyes, reduced to ash, his voice echoing into nothing, the only remnant that he had ever existed.

The battlefield went silent, the three remaining armies looking around after their opponents had literally disappeared while they watched. After the silence came their victorious cries. The battle was over, hardly any casualties had taken place aside from the attacking orcs.

You rushed to Kili, frantically checking him and his brother for injuries. “Kili! Oh my god. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Amrâlimê.” He assured you, his breathing heavy now that he was free. His voice was a little hoarse, but that seemed to be his only injury.

“Fili?”

The older prince smiled. “I’m okay, too.”

You exhaled a huge sigh of relief and looked back at Thorin, who nodded at you, uninjured. It felt like a million pounds lifted from your shoulders. They were alive. The battle was over and they were alive.

Another sigh pulled itself from your lungs and something shifted within you. You were dizzy, utterly exhausted. You swayed on your feet a bit, eyelashes fluttering.

“My love?” Kili whispered, concerned, his hand touching your arm.

“I’m okay,” you insisted before falling into his waiting arms, your legs giving out beneath you.

The dwarf prince lowered you to the ground gently, finding a soft patch of grass before he searched you for injuries. He didn’t see any blood, nowhere had your armor been pierced, and aside from a small cut on your cheek, you appeared to be fine. He pulled you into his lap, his arms cradling you.

Your breathing slowed, but your heart continued to race and tears were quick to begin trailing down your cheeks.

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?” Bilbo rushed over to you, appearing from thin air. The rest of the company slowly assembled around you. “Did she…do that?”

“I don’t know.” You told him. “I feel…I don’t think I’m injured, I just feel…floaty.”

“Get the girl some water.” Oin insisted.

“I can’t find a wound on her.” Kili told the medic, his voice getting thick with tears and desperation. “Please, tell me what’s wrong with her.”

“You will find no injury, Kili.” Gandalf walked through the crowd of humans and elves and dwarves. “She is quite alright. This is…” He shook his head. “Well, this is the end of the spell I used to bring her here. The magic has all been spent.”

“Oh.” You murmured. It made sense when he said it. You could feel it, the fact that you were slipping.

“Well do something! There must be some spell to keep her here! Please!” Kili’s voice broke and his eyes left Gandalf’s meeting your own as he cradled you closer. “Please, I can’t lose her.”

“It’s okay, Kili.” You told him, your hand reaching up to brush his cheek, for once wiping his tears away. “I…I served my purpose. You’re alive. Fili and Thorin are alive. The line of Durin is safe. You’re safe. I…I wrote my own ending.”

You heard some sniffles among the group, namely from Balin and Bofur, but there were tears glimmering in the eyes of Dori and Ori and Bombur as well.

“You can’t leave us yet, lass.” Bofur said, taking off his hat and staring down at you. “Before the feast? Before the celebration?”

You laughed softly, looking up at the hobbit and each dwarf standing there. Your very best friends. Your family. Your heart already ached when you imagined just how much you’d miss them in your world without magic. “It’s bad timing, isn’t it? I…I’m not ready yet. I’m not ready to go…”

“Stay.” Kili whispered, pulling your face to his, his lips tasting of his salty tears as he kissed you. “Please, stay with me. Please.”

Part of you expected his kiss to be magical, to halt the sinking, floating feeling inside your chest. You expected True Love’s Kiss to save you at the end of your fairytale, but it couldn’t. It seemed nothing could.

“I’m sorry.” You sobbed, trying to sit up so you could embrace him better. “I’m so sorry, Kili.”

“It’s not your fault.” Kili shook his head, pulling you into a more upright position and pressing his forehead to yours.

You felt a tingling numbness in your fingers, and when you looked down at your hand, you found that they were disappearing, breaking into glowing silvery light and floating up into the cloudy sky. “No.”

You looked up at the company, at Thorin, the new king under the mountain, at Bilbo and Gandalf, and each of the others. “S-stay out of trouble, you guys. All of you. I love you so much and…I’m going to miss you for…well, for the rest of my life.”

“Book Keeper…” Thorin spoke, his voice going soft as he knelt down beside you and his nephew on the ground. “(Y/N)…If there ever is a day you come back, you will always have a place in our halls. I meant it when I said you would make a great princess and I mean it when I say it would have been an honor to have you as my niece.”

More tears slipped down your cheeks and you took the hand he offered you. “And it would have been an honor to have you as my uncle.”

Fili approached next, a weepy look on his face as he pulled you into a hug, the disappearance now working its way up to your elbow making it a bit more difficult. “Thank you. For saving my life.”

“You knew—”

“I figured it out.” He shrugged, lowering you back into his brother’s arms. “I’ll never forget everything you’ve done for me. For us. Take care of yourself. Find a new adventure.”

“You guys were the greatest adventure I’m ever going to get.” You looked up at the hobbit. “It’s going to be an amazing book, Bilbo. I should know, it’s the one I’ve been reading the whole time.”

Bilbo gasped, his eyes widening. “My book?”

“Why else would it be called The Hobbit where I’m from?” You chuckled. “Although, I bet your version will turn out bit different than the one I’m familiar with.”

“I would never leave out the best character.” Bilbo wiped a tear from his cheek. “Although, I think I might write a happier ending for her, if it’s all the same to you.”

“I can’t wait to read it.” You looked up at Kili, who hadn’t stopped crying since he’d first started. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” He shook his head. “I…I was supposed to be the one that didn’t make it. You…”

“I’m going to be okay.” You promised him, your nose resting against his.

“That makes one of us.” He murmured. “You are my One, my other half. I can’t imagine going on without you here with me. I don’t want to.”

“Someday, I promise you, we’ll see each other again. This isn’t the end for us.” You whispered, kissing him fiercely and he reciprocated immediately, his lips passionate against yours. You linked the pinkie that hadn’t disappeared yet with his own.

“Y-you said once…if something was meant for you to have, it would find you again.” He tightened his finger around yours until it started to disappear, too. “I swear to you, I will find you again.”

You nodded, whispering the words you’d been reciting in your mind for so long, just in case this was the outcome of your adventure after all. “I love you, Amrâlimê.”

You continued to vanish as the company watched. The last thing you felt of Middle Earth was a pair of lips against your own and the warmth of your lover’s arms around you.

And then everything went white.

***

When you opened your eyes, you were standing on your front porch in your pajama pants again. The sun shone bright in your eyes, birds chirping up in the trees, and the slightest breeze blowing through your hair.

You blinked a few times, looking around you to ground yourself. You were back home, except…it didn’t really feel like home anymore. You weren’t sure it ever would again.

Blinking away tears, you turned around and walked inside, half-expecting to wind up right back in Bilbo’s hobbit hole, but no, it was just your living room waiting on the other side of the threshold. You walked out the front door again, desperate, but had no luck. The only thing beyond that was your front porch again.

“No…” You mumbled, leaning against the wall before sliding down it, hiding behind your knees. “No, no, no…please…please! Take me back! Gandalf, please…”

You expected something magical to happen, for someone to appear from thin air and comfort you, but for the first time in about six months, you were left completely alone. It was the same day you’d left, only minutes after you’d first gone, and yet every moment you’d spent away was real and tangible. You remembered everything. Every hour of every day, the vast majority of them spent at Kili’s side.

The tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and you feared they never would, not so long as you were locked out of Middle Earth.

As you sat there, questioning everything your life had become, you couldn’t help but question if it had really even happened at all. Maybe it had just been an intense hallucination. After all, nothing around you had changed. But then, you caught a glimpse of something glimmering in your hair.

Kili’s courting bead, the very one he had spent so long making for you, was still carefully braided into your hair.

And your heart broke all over again. It was real and so was he. And so was the little wooden bird tucked in your pocket, Bifur’s parting gift. You sat there with both of them for a long time, staring at them, feeling them in your hands and forcing yourself to believe that you could go back. That one of these times you closed your eyes, you would be in Erebor again.

It took about an hour for you to get back on your feet and walk inside, only to collapse onto the couch, something inside of you deeply broken in a way you weren’t sure could ever be fixed.

The days passed slowly at first, each one a new burden, heavy and unstable. The hours seemed to crawl by. You had constant headaches from crying so much and you had trouble sleeping. When you did manage to get some rest, you had dreams of the company, of hiking with the dwarves, chatting with Bilbo, kissing Kili one last time. And then you’d wake up and relive the heartbreak all over again.

After a few weeks, it seemed to get a little easier. None of your friends knew why you were so heartbroken and you didn’t know how to begin to explain it to them, so you didn’t, and they never asked.

You got back to writing and, Gandalf had been right, your adventure had sparked something. You knew exactly what the story needed: a dwarf prince.

You’d finished the book in record time, poured all your energy into it. You’d hired an editor to clean it up for you, got the interior formatted, and commissioned a cover from an artist online. And then, a few weeks after that, it was in your hands and available online. It helped fill the hole in your heart the tiniest bit.

After about a month, you went with your friends to a comic con. You knew there’d be Lord of the Rings stuff there, and you knew you wouldn’t really be able to avoid it. You didn’t expect, however, for one of the first tables in the Artist Alley to have portraits of Kili, Fili, and Thorin right at the front of their display.

“You’re really in a Lord of the Rings mood lately, huh?” Your friend Conner asked when he caught your eyes lingering on them.

You shrugged, unable to explain to them exactly what had sparked it. “The Hobbit, but yeah, I have. Couldn’t tell you why…”

Obviously, you bought all three prints, and obviously you bought a poster of Erebor a few stalls later and obviously you cried in the car on the way home and put them up on your bedroom walls as soon as you arrived. Maybe it would hurt a little to see Kili’s face every day, but you’d been sad every day since then anyway, at least now you’d be able to see him.

Some sense of normalcy had returned to your life, sure. You were able to make it through a few days at a time without bursting into tears, but you knew, no matter how much time passed, not a single one would without you thinking of him in some way, shape, or form.

He, like the rest of the party, had left a handprint on your heart, a tattoo in your mind that would never fade, whether or not you wanted it to.

***Six Months Later***

It was now, finally, your twenty-fourth birthday. Snow was falling outside and your friends were beginning to arrive for a birthday party. It helped to have people there. You didn’t want to just be celebrating alone with only your thoughts for company. So, instead, you purchased plenty of pizza, plenty of adult beverages and fun alternatives for your non-drinking friends, which of course included black cherry cream soda. You had a banging birthday playlist going, some fun movies playing in the other room, and lots of snacks in the kitchen.

You were wearing a short-ish silver dress and had done your makeup for once. The bead Kili had given you so long ago was on a chain around your neck. It was hard trying to do the courtship braids without help, so you’d given up on them, instead choosing to wear it as a necklace. It didn’t mean anything to the people around you anyway. They didn’t know the power it held.

“Hey birthday girl!” One of your college friends, Chelsea, said, coming in through the door with a veggie tray and a gift bag. “Brought you some accessories.”

“Oh did you, now?”

Inside the bag, there was a sash and a crown that both said Birthday Princess on them. You chuckled, slipping the sash over your head and perching the crown in your hair. Ironic, you thought. Well, at least now you looked the part.

“Is this mead? Why do you have mead?” asked Ethan, who was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, laughing and reading the label on the bottle. “Where did you even get this?”

“One of the party stores had it.” You shrugged. “It’s like wine but sweeter.”

“Huh.” He poured himself a glass and you sipped the same drink from the solo cup in your hand. It was blueberry flavored and very good. Perhaps not as good as the kind the elves in Rivendell had served, but good nonetheless.

More friends kept arriving. You all chatted in the living room, beneath strobing LED lights, vibing to the music on your party playlist.

“What’s on your necklace?” Your friend Cianna asked, taking note of the bead around your neck.

“Oh, a friend gave it to me a while back. It’s an emerald.”

“It’s pretty.”

You nodded and touched it gently. “Thanks.”

Eventually, once everyone you’d invited was accounted for and you’d all had your share of pizza, your friend Natalie prepared the birthday cake, poking a bunch of candles into its surface and lighting them after. And yet, just before they could sing and before you could even dare to make a wish, there was a knock on the door.

Phil walked to the door, a party had on his head, and pulled it open, staring for a long moment before saying. “Uhhhhh, (Y/N), did you hire a bunch of cosplayers?”

“No, why…?” You blew out the candles without a thought and stood up from the table, cautiously walking towards the door, followed by the rest of your group.

“Um, hello, we’re looking for (Y/N) (L/N)…is she here?”

Your heart raced. You’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Bilbo???” You peered out the door, and sure enough, a hobbit and crowd of dwarves stood there, all clamoring to see into the house. Ori was looking through the window and waved excitedly when you spotted him. Except…he was taller than you remembered. They all seemed to be, in fact.

“Bilbo Baggins?” Chelsea murmured in awe. “THE Bilbo Baggins???”

Phil stepped aside, still looking for the words to say, but none came. He’d been expecting another pizza guy or something, not…this.

“What are you guys…How did you…?” You were flabbergast. You had to be hallucinating. It simply was not possible. You blinked a few times and looked at your friends, who were all, seemingly, seeing what you were. “C-come on in.”

Bilbo walked in, taking off his scarf. There was snow caught in his hair and his cheeks were rosy from the cold. You wondered how long they’d been out there, or, rather, how far they’d traveled to get to your front door.

Pushing past the others, Kili was the next to enter the house, rushing straight up to you and collecting you in his arms, his lips capturing your own. You melted at his touch, falling back into all of the emotions you’d been refraining from feeling for the past several months. His kiss drew a hum from your throat, his arm wrapping tight around your waist.

When he finally pulled away, his hand wandered up to your face, brushing the stray hairs out of your eyes. He took you in for all that you were in this realm and though you looked a bit different from the way you’d appeared in Middle Earth, it was indeed the same Book Keeper behind those eyes. He’d know his One anywhere, even in a realm beyond his own.

“Happy birthday, Amrâlimê. You look beautiful.” His finger touched the tip of your ear, which was no longer pointed, and was instead, the smaller, rounded human ear you’d grown up with. He laughed softly, amused. “Your ears are so small.”

“Kili, I…” You giggled in disbelief, looking up at him for the first time ever. “How are you here?”

“Gandalf dropped us off down the street.” Fili explained, kicking off his snow-covered boots and setting his swords on the floor. “Said he’ll be back with his present later.”

“He also said the rules of your realm may affect us the way our realm affected you.” Thorin explained, much taller than you’d seen him last. “Which seems to be the case, Book Keeper.”

“I…see that.” Thorin was even taller than Kili was, as opposed to his previous height of just past your shoulder. He looked even more regal this way, you decided.

“I’m sorry, what is going on?” Cianna asked, looking from one dwarf to the next.

“Did the lass not tell you about her big adventure?” Bofur teased, carrying a small bag with him. “You forgot your camera in Middle Earth.”

“Right.” You chuckled, taking the bag he handed you. “Forgot about that.”

“And your photos. I’ve organized them for you.” Dori handed them to you in a stack.

The rest of the dwarves filed into the house as your friends looked on in wonder and confusion, waiting for some kind of explanation.

“So uh…to make a long story short, about six months ago, Gandalf came by and swept me off on an adventure. And I kind of, uh…stole Smaug’s fire and used it to wipe out the orcs in the Battle of Five Armies. And fell in love with Kili. And then when I got back, it was like no time had passed at all, Narnia style.”

“That’s the abridged version.” Bilbo said, grinning.

“You know…that kind of explains a lot.” Conner said, thinking back on all the merch you’d bought at comic con. This was, perhaps, why you had cried when you found action figures of Kili and Fili in one of the bins full of toys at said comic con.

“You still have it.” Kili whispered, a finger carefully touching the bead hanging around your neck. “I-I thought…”

“I forgot how to do the braid.” You confessed. “I didn’t want it to fall out.”

He kissed you again, softer this time. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m here, then.”

Natalie pointed to the cake, the candles of which you’d just blown out. “Um, we have birthday cake. There’s ice cream, too.”

“Well why didn’t you say so?” Bofur laughed, walking towards the cake.

“What’s ice cream?” Ori asked, following him.

Balin walked up to you and took your hand as he passed. “Happy Birthday, lass. Good to see you.”

“Thank you, Balin.” You laughed. “You have no idea how good it is to see you guys.”

“Where’s the ale, lassie?” Dwalin draped a heavy arm around your shoulders. He was impossibly tall at human height.

“Have you ever had a margarita?” You asked, mischievous.

“Can’t say I have.”

“Come on.” You took Kili’s hand and led him, Dwalin, and Fili to the kitchen, where you and Cianna started serving up drinks.

Kili stopped at the counter, where he noticed the bottles of black cherry cream soda. He smiled softly and grabbed two, one for himself and one for you. When you abandoned the bar and walked back out to the living room with Kili, the dwarves were mingling with your friends, getting acquainted with one another.

You spotted your friend Taylor across the room teaching Bofur and Bifur how to play ping pong. Ori was in the other room watching whatever movie was on the TV. You were pretty sure it was Tangled. Gloin was scolding Nori for attempting to pocket something while Dori showed Phil and Conner the stack of photos from your Polaroid, telling stories of your adventure. Thorin was standing in the corner with Dwalin and Balin, sipping from a red solo cup, a sight you never saw you’d see. Meanwhile, Chelsea was chatting with Bilbo, asking him everything under the sun about the Shire.

Fili sat on the armchair next to the couch, his feet resting on the ottoman in front of it. “Nice place, Book Keeper.”

“You think so?”

“It’s cozy.” Kili agreed, removing your birthday princess crown for a moment before detangling your hair with the comb he always seemed to have tucked in his pocket. He set to work, putting the courting braid back in your hair, where it was meant to be.

You undid the clasp holding your necklace together and slipped the bead from the chain, handing it to him carefully so he could fasten it to the end of the braid once again. Once it was done, he carefully set the plastic crown back on top of your head.

He leaned in and kissed your cheek and then your lips, lingering against them for a long moment.

“I missed you.” You told him, touching your nose to his. “I was starting to think…I might not ever see you again.”

“How long has it been for you?” Fili asked.

“About six months. It’s been…really hard.” You shook your head. “I was starting to think the whole thing had been in my head…”

Kili frowned. “It’s…only been a few weeks in Erebor. The victory celebrations have barely dwindled.”

It felt like he’d stolen the breath from your lungs. For you, half a year had passed and for them, it hadn’t even been a month? The time travel stuff would never make sense to you, not entirely.

“Wow, that’s…” You shook your head. “Wow.”

Kili took both of your hands, serious all of a sudden. “I cannot imagine what that must have been like for you. Every day without you felt like an eternity. But I intend to make up for every moment.”

“Good.” You kissed him again, interrupted by a tap on your shoulder. You turned to find Natalie leaning over the back of the couch, her eyes locked on Thorin across the room. “Oh hey, what’s up?”

“That’s Thorin, right? Over there in the fur.”

“Thorin Oakenshield, in the flesh. He’s king under the mountain now. And he did not die in the Battle of Five Armies, so he’s got that going for him.” You assured her, twisting the cap off of your cream soda. You couldn’t help but smirk a little. You knew the look on her face and…you couldn’t say you blamed her.

“Uh-huh. Cool. And he’s…single, right?”

Fili choked on his drink and Kili let out a hearty laugh, thoroughly amused.

“Yeah, he is.”

Natalie downed the rest of her drink and adjusted her hair. “Alright good. I’m going in.”

You saluted her as she walked away. “Godspeed.”

“Uncle is that well-known here?” Fili asked, watching her go.

“Only to the nerds, but…we’re all nerds here.” You chuckled. “You three are…very popular among The Hobbit fans, especially the women.”

A smile snuck across Fili’s face. “I am too?”

“Yes, you are, Fili.”

There was a final knock at the door and you stood, walking to answer it. You were unsurprised to find Gandalf there, a proud look on his wise features.

“Quite the party here, Book Keeper.” He said, stepping inside, a book tucked under his arm. “I apologize for my tardiness. I had a meeting with a lion run a bit longer than expected.”

You stared at him for a long time before blurting, “Are you…talking about Aslan?”

That mischievous gleam appeared in his eyes once more. “Oh yes, Aslan and I are old friends. I needed his help putting the finishing touches on your gift.” He handed the book to you. “Happy birthday, dear.”

“Thank you.” The book in your hands was your own, the copy of the Hobbit you’d left in Middle Earth.

He winked. “Check the back cover.”

You took his advice and opened to the back of the book, where a necklace was tucked. It was silver and circular, several symbols along the edge of it and three emeralds embedded in its surface in a triangle. It buzzed with an unfamiliar power. “Woah…”

“This, dear Book Keeper, is a Charm of Return. I needed special permission to acquire it, but it will allow you to travel to either realm as you please. I’m sorry it took me so long to get it to you, but it took quite some time to convince the Council to grant my request.”

You hugged him tightly, your heart racing. “I don’t know how to thank you. This is…”

“It is I that owes you, dear, not the other way around. You have done immeasurable good for Middle Earth, and…come sixty years from now, I may need your expertise once more.” He looked around the room. “These friends of yours wouldn’t happen to be in need of an adventure, would they? I’m sure there are a handful of hobbits, an elf prince, a dwarf, and a few men that could use some guidance and I doubt you’d be able to be in all of those places at once…”

You laughed. “I think a lot of them would be very interested in that offer.”

“I will keep them in mind.” He tipped his hat. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it seems your friend is in need of some help at the ping pong table. Two against one is hardly fair, especially where Bifur is concerned.”

Gandalf walked away and Kili stood at your side again. When you felt his presence, you looked down out of habit, but he guided your chin up instead, laughing. It was, decidedly, odd being taller than you. He didn’t necessarily mind, but he was pretty sure he preferred your height difference the other way around.

“What did he give you?”

“My book. And an enchanted necklace.” You told him, your arms looping around his neck, resting on his shoulders. “Our relationship is no longer long-distance.”

He tugged you closed to him, a strong arm around your waist as he dipped you back, exploring your lips for a long moment before pulling you upright again. “Good, because I much prefer having you close to me, Amrâlimê.”

You reached up to touch his face, your thumb grazing his stubble. Honestly, you were still trying to convince yourself that he was there, that he was real and not merely a dream, as he had been for the past six months. But no matter how many times you blinked, he was still there, his leather and campfire and pine scent just as strong as you remembered it to be, his warmth vivid and real. “Me too.”

“You keep looking at me like you’re afraid I’ll disappear.” He whispered, his voice a bit sad, his eyes searching your own for some hint of what you were feeling.

You teared up a bit. “I kind of am.”

“Oh ghivashel…” He pulled you to his chest, one of his hands cradling your head, gently petting your hair in an attempt to reassure you that this was real, that he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He pressed a long kiss to the crown of your head. “I swore to you once that I’d find you again. Now that I’ve found you…I swear to you, I’m never going to lose you again.”

“Promise?” You asked, your voice wobbly.

He pulled away and offered you his pinkie, a tearful smile on that handsome face of his. You linked your pinkie with his, locking the promise.

Ethan peeked out of the other room. “Hey, (Y/N), can you hook up the Switch? I have to kick…” He looked behind him and asked. “Sorry, what’s your name?”

“I’m Ori.”

“I have to kick Ori’s butt at Just Dance.”

You laughed. “Oh absolutely.”

You helped connect your Switch to the TV, and as you did so, you couldn’t help but notice Thorin and Natalie stepping up to the ping pong table opposite Taylor and Bofur. Yeah, something about that felt right, too.

“Now, what is this Switch of yours?” Fili asked, looking on with curiosity as you switched the cords around before, finally, the menu popped onto the TV screen. The dwarves in the room made noises of awe.

“Remember how I told you about video games? This is that.”

You took a seat on the couch beside Kili and handed one of the controllers to Ethan, who showed Ori, Dori, and Nori how to play while the rest of the dwarves gathered around, interested to see how it worked.

You draped an arm around Kili’s shoulders and rested your legs atop his. Kili’s hand settled on your thigh and he stared at you, obsessed with the proximity after weeks of being apart. He thought you looked so beautiful in your glittering silver dress, your birthday princess crown and sash.

“What?” You asked, catching him staring at you.

He kissed your cheek, his arm wrapping around your waist. “It just…doesn’t feel real. Being here. I’ll admit, I never thought I’d get to come to your realm.”

“What do you think?”

“It’s very different than I’m accustomed to, but I think it definitely explains a lot about you. I like it, of course, but I’m not sure I could ever adjust to living here, not fully.”

“It’d be quite the learning curve.” You agreed. “That’s how I felt with Middle Earth, in the beginning. It felt…unreal. Every morning I expected to wake up back in my bed, like it had all been some fantastical dream, and…once I came back here, I kept expecting to wake up there instead.”

“You belong to both.” He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, still half-expecting it to come to a point.

You nodded. “I belong to both.” Your hand wandered to the enchanted necklace around your neck. “And now I can.”

After a few rounds of Just Dance, one of your friends put in MarioKart instead, attempting to explain the game to Fili, who showed an interest in the racing game. Seeing the opportunity to step away for a moment, Kili looked at you and asked, “Can you show me your room?”

“Yeah, of course.” You stood up and took his hand, leading him through the living room, down the hall, and into your room.

He looked around, curious. His eyes lingered on every poster adorning your walls for a moment before stopping on the prints you’d gotten at comic con. All in a row, you had portraits of himself, his brother, and his uncle, and above them, there was a poster of Erebor, bathed in mist.

“Where did you get these?” He asked, staring at them.

“At a convention I went to this year.” You shrugged. “Reminded me of home. I left all my pictures there, so things like this are the only way I can really see it.”

“Home…” He repeated the word, nodding. “It’s been hard sleeping without you at my side. Our bed feels empty without you.”

Your heart leapt when he said it. Our bed. You took a step closer to him, stepping into his warmth. His hand rose to your cheek, pulling you in for a long, slow kiss. He had to crane his neck down in order to reach your lips, which caused him to chuckle.

“What?” You asked, amused.

“Is this what it’s like when you try to kiss me?” He asked, looking down at you from his elevated human height. You figured he was probably about six feet tall like this. Thorin and Dwalin were even taller yet, wherever they were in your house with your friends.

“Yeah, pretty much.” You stood on your toes and kissed him again. “I can’t say I mind, though.”

“I suppose I never asked how you felt about it. About the distance between us.” He sat on the bed, pulling you towards him so you were standing between his legs in a way that more accurately mimicked your usual height difference. “You don’t care? Even the human men in my world are usually taller than their beloveds…”

“I couldn’t care less.” You poked his nose with the tip of your finger. “You’re a dwarf, Kili. Your height is part of who you are, and…I love every piece of you. I don’t care how tall you are compared to me, all I care about is you.”

You settled on his leg, pulling his arms around you and pressing another passionate kiss to his lips. He kissed you hungrily, like he had been the one waiting six months to do so opposed to the other way around. When you separated, he rested his forehead against yours and took a long breath.

“Would you like your birthday present now?”

“You got me a present?” You asked.

“Of course I did, ghivashel.” He nuzzled his nose against yours and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small wooden box, which had been painted forest green.

He handed it to you, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you opened it, only to find a claddagh ring, very similar to the one that had been turned into the bead braided into his hair. Instead of hands on either side of the emerald, however, there were tiny silver leaves, like the ones he’d worked into your courting bead. It truly was gorgeous. You could tell he’d made it himself, which only made you love it more.

With careful hands, he slid the ring onto your right ring finger so the heart was upright, signifying that you were in a relationship. He pressed a long kiss to your cheek. “I’ve been wanting to do that since you told me what your ring meant that night in the goblin cave.” He admitted, his voice soft and deep. “I’d just stare at your ring and think about how badly I wanted to flip it over, to call you mine. And someday…I want to be the one who gets to move it to your other hand.”

“I want that too.” You assured him, whispering against his lips.

“I didn’t know Gandalf was going to bring us here when I started working on it. I just…needed something to distract me from the hole in my heart.” He kissed your forehead and then your cheek and then your lips. “They’re calling you the Emerald Princess of Erebor back home.”

“Are they?” You asked, amused. “I’ll admit, it has a ring to it.”

“Among your other titles, of course. Book Keeper, Fire Stealer, Realm Traveler, Orc Burner…” He searched your face before adding, “You’re a hero, you know. To all of us. When it was looking like you might not be back…Uncle was in the process of commissioning a statue of you, especially once he found out it wasn’t just my life you’d saved.”

“So he knows, then.”

“We all do.” Bilbo was standing in the doorway of your room. He took a look around. “It’s nice in here. Sorry to interrupt, ah, the others are beginning to tell stories to your friends and we thought you might like to be present for that. Also, there’s only one slice of cake left and Bofur said you two haven’t had any yet.”

“Thank you, Bilbo.” You smiled and stood up.

“Is that the Shire?” Bilbo pointed to a poster hanging on your wall. His eyes narrowed at it, examining it further. “Is that my house?”

“Yeah, it is.”

He pointed to a print of Frodo and Sam and Merry and Pippin. “Who are they?”

“Well, that one is your nephew. Technically, I guess, he’s your cousin, but you two call each other nephew and uncle. He’s…he’s going to do great things someday.”

“Huh.” Bilbo nodded, leading you and Kili back down the hall to where the others were all congregating in the living room.

Some had gotten refills of some their drinks, and some of the dwarves were trying the human snacks they’d found in your kitchen. Dori was trying to convince Ori to try a margarita, but he insisted that he didn’t like green food and that also applied to green beverages.

Bofur handed you a paper plate, upon which was the last slice of birthday cake, and two plastic forks. He winked. “Thought you might share with your beloved.”

“Thank you, Bofur.” You and Kili settled into the spot that was left for you in the makeshift circle that had formed in the living room.

Gandalf was perched on a chair in the corner of the room, on the edge of the group, as he often was. Fili had a bit of frosting caught in his beard as he ate the second to last slice of cake.

“Is it good?” You asked, laughing softly.

“It’s fantastic, Book Keeper.”

“I’m glad.” You handed Kili the other plastic fork.

Kili broke off a piece of cake and held his fork in front of your mouth. You ate from it playfully. It was nice, getting to be domestic with him, given that so much of your time together thus far had been on the road, weaving in and out of danger.

“So…” Chelsea pressed, your human friends all waiting anxiously to hear about your time in Middle Earth. “What was it…like?”

“Anything specific or just in general?” You asked for clarification.

“In general, I guess.”

“It was…everything I could have imagined.” You shrugged. “Like, the movies don’t even begin to do it justice, Middle Earth. We started in the Shire, at Bilbo’s, travelled to Rivendell, through Mirkwood, through Laketown, to Erebor. It took a long time, not just the nine hours that are on screen. Like, the book is just the cliffnotes, you know? Being there, doing it…It was spectacular. Scary sometimes, sure, but I think it was worth it.”

“What’s your scar from?” Taylor pointed to the long, jagged mark running up your arm. “Was it actually from dog-sitting or…?”

“A goblin got me, but that’s not even the big one.” You chuckled and stood, pulling up the skirt of your dress the tiniest bit, showing off the large mark left from the dragon’s talons. “Smaug did that.”

“Holy shit…” One of your friends murmured.

“The little scar on my cheek is, surprisingly, the only one I got during the Battle of Five Armies, but that one healed up so well, it’s hard to even see it.” You sat back down next to Kili.

“Meet anyone cool?” Ethan asked.

“Most of them are in attendance.” You replied, and the dwarves chuckled. “I did meet Legolas briefly. And Elrond. And we stayed with Bard for a bit; his kids were really nice. Also Thranduil is like…kinda mean.”

“He is an acquired taste, that is for certain.” Gandalf piped up from the corner. “Not entirely unreasonable, though.”

“What was your favorite part of the trip, lass?” Bofur asked, that mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“If that isn’t a loaded question…” You chuckled, shaking your head. “I honestly…I feel like there are too many to count. There were a lot of moments that really stuck out to me and I loved them all in different ways for different reasons; staying at Beorn’s, riding in the barrels down the river, the party at Laketown…” You took Kili’s hand and he gave yours a squeeze. “Obviously, I’m not single anymore, so I loved every moment that led up to that, as well, and…all of the moments since then, too.”

The group sat there for a while, reminiscing, telling stories. Balin recounted the moment you stole Smaug’s fire. Bofur told them all how wasted you’d been at the aforementioned party in Laketown. Fili recalled when he’d spotted you outside their cells in Mirkwood, disguised as an elf guard and Dwalin bragged that you’d stood up Legolas at the Festival of Starlight that night, managing to trick every elf you passed, including their prince.

“I have a story.” Kili spoke after a while, and everyone piped down, eager to see what he had to say. “So, that first night in the Shire, shortly after Thorin arrived, Gandalf informed us that there would be a mysterious fifteenth member of the company. He said fifteen was a lucky number and that, in addition to our Burglar, we were in need of a Book Keeper to…keep the record straight, or something of the sort. And I thought to myself, we have Ori for that, he’s a scribe, what more could we possibly need to keep the record of the adventure? We waited for a bit. Waited a little longer. And then I hear this little voice in the distance, down the hall and around the corner. Didn’t think much of it.”

You listened carefully. In all your time together, he’d never told you what was going through his head the moment you’d met.

“So Gandalf sends me to get her. Up until then, we didn’t even know she was a woman, which was a bit of an upset among the company. I wasn’t anywhere near the door, so I wasn’t quite sure why he’d sent me of all dwarves, but I stood and walked out of the room and down the hall and when I turned the corner and I…I saw her standing there, looking very lost and something happened, then. It was like she was glowing, this stunning, beautiful woman, and the first word out of her mouth is my name.” He chuckled and shook his head, squeezing your hand. “I’m sure I stood there, gaping at you like an idiot for a good, long time before finally asking if I’d met you before because surely, I would have remembered if we had. As it turned out, she’d come from an entirely different realm to help us.”

You caught a proud look on Thorin’s face, amusement in those blue eyes of his.

“I remember that tense moment after she was finally introduced to the company. I didn’t know whether or not Uncle would let her come along on the journey and, if he didn’t and she went back home after journeying so far to get to us…Even then, I knew she’d be taking half of my heart with her if she left.”

“Awwww…” Natalie pouted.

“But he let her come. And…I know for a fact that I wouldn’t be sitting here with all of you if she hadn’t.”

“And the rest is history.” Fili said, grinning.

“I’ve got a question.” Gloin said, holding up a copy of your book that had been lying on the coffee table. “What’s this, lassie? The Prince and the Prophet?”

“That’s my novel. I finished it when I got back, published it a few months back.”

“You just casually published a novel?” Bilbo asked, thoroughly impressed. “Is it that easy in this realm?”

“It takes time, sure, but actually getting it out there is kind of easy in this realm, depending on how you go about it.” You shrugged.

“Let me see.” Kili held out his hand and Gloin tossed it to him. He looked at the cover and he couldn’t help but notice the resemblance he and the love interest shared, right down to the height difference with the main character. “Second in line for the throne, first in line for her heart.” He read the tagline and his cheeks reddened.

“Well that sounds familiar, doesn’t it?” Fili joked, taking the book from his brother’s hands and holding it up so the others could see it side by side. “Kind of looks familiar too. Huh.”

“I knew it!” Phil pointed, triumphant. “I fucking knew it!”

“Ohhhhhh. Kili. Killian. I get it.” Cianna agreed, and everyone in attendance laughed.

Kili laughed in disbelief, his face right in front of yours. “You named him Killian?”

“As they say, write what you know.” You laughed, shielding your face by taking a sip from your drink. “I needed something to bury myself in. Try to fill in the hole in my heart a little bit, you know?”

Kili pressed a long kiss to your cheek. “All too well, Amrâlimê.” He raised an eyebrow, mischievous. “Do you think I could have a copy? Being your muse and all, I think it’s only fair.”

“Of course you can.” You laughed.

“Are there any mentions of the heir to the throne, Book Keeper? Prince Fillian, perhaps?” Fili asked and your friends all cracked up.

“No, of course not, that would be ridiculous.” You scoffed. “His name is Finnian and he has an intense passion for musical theater.”

The company erupted into laughter. You took a long moment to look around the room. It was like that last night before the battle in a way. You knew the magic of this night was limited. Once it was over, you’d never have this feeling again, this swirl of nostalgia and camaraderie and home, the mix of both of your homes together. Sure, now you had the ability to go back and forth, but you weren’t sure you’d ever get to have them all together in one room again. Only time would tell.

Hours later, the party finally ended. You had lots of help cleaning up, and your friends slowly started leaving to go back to their homes, unsure if when they woke this crazy night would be more than a dream. Some of the dwarves left as well, escorted by Gandalf out the front door and back to Middle Earth.

Once you finally had the place in a relatively normal state and you, Gandalf, Bilbo, and the Durins were the only ones left, you felt Kili’s presence behind you, warm and close. You turned into his arms, resting your head against his chest. He pressed a long kiss to your forehead and then murmured against your hairline the words you had been waiting to hear all night, “Come, Amrâlimê. Let’s go home.”

***

The celebrations in Erebor when you returned were unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. Dwarves, Elves, Men, and a wizard and a hobbit and a Book Keeper all celebrating together, one last time before they’d all go back to their own settlements and move on with their lives.

The men, Bard had told you, were considering moving to Dale from Laketown, in order to be closer to Erebor for trading with the Dwarves. Many of the dwarves that had come to fight alongside the company were staying, too, to help restore Erebor to its former glory. A lot of work had to be done to get it to that point, Thorin had told you. Especially since a dragon had torn his way through the place to escape the woman who’d stolen his fire.

Speaking of Thorin, he’d granted you a title and a gilded emerald circlet to go along with it, declaring you as an honorary Princess of Erebor, although given your relationship to his nephew, you would have married into that title soon enough anyway. And these days, you weren’t the only princess in Erebor. Dís, Kili and Fili’s mother, had made the journey in your absence, joining the rest of her family in their ancestral home. She had been incredibly kind to you and had welcomed you to the family immediately. Her brother and sons trusted you like their own, so she did, too, especially once she heard everything you’d done for them.

Slowly but surely, the Lonely Mountain was becoming less and less lonely, abuzz with people, the smithing industry up and running again, and every torch lit with warm light.

After another week, Bilbo decided it was finally time to go home. He and Gandalf prepared for the return journey. Bilbo wanted to slip out unnoticed, but the company caught word of it and gathered one last time to see him off at the gate.

“If any of you are ever passing Bag End…Tea is at four. There’s plenty of it…You are welcome anytime.” Bilbo said, his eyes sincere, and his voice wavering.

The dwarves all bowed to him one final time, each of their eyes glassy with tears.

“You’ll have to come back to visit someday.” You said, a tear trickling down your cheek, the pink light of sunrise flushing the scene with warmth and beauty. “For the wedding.”

Bilbo’s eyes softened and he took a step forward. You knelt down to the ground so he could give you one last hug before leaving for the Shire after all this time. He whispered in your ear, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Book Keeper.”

He started to walk away, stopped only by Thorin, who followed him up the path for a more private goodbye. Kili wiped a tear from his cheek and turned you towards him, gazing up at you as he had so many times before. “This is it, isn’t it? This is the end of the story?”

“It’s the end of the book, sure, but…” you shook your head, “it’s not the end of the story. It…well, to me, it feels like the beginning of a new one, except this time…I have no idea what’s coming next.”

Kili pulled you down to his level, pressing a long kiss to your lips. “We’ll find that out together, Amrâlimê, one page at a time…”

#kili #kili x reader #kili durin #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #tolkien #kili durin x reader #the book keeper

[kira-broflovski]

Elven King || Kyle Broflovski x Reader

NOTE: i played stick of truth and wow i really want to write some fics based around that game now

summary: you finally returned home after being away from south park for so long and ran into your old crush

Trekking through the sea of green, you finally found it. The very spot that changed your life forever.

Memories of your childhood came flooding back to you as you stared out across the pond, it's breath-taking beauty never changing in the eight years you've been gone.

As you looked around the area more, you noticed things that were never taken down: the custom direction signs you made for the sake of immersion, or the little dens made out of large sticks that you and your friends would sit in for shelter during the summer heat. How has nobody destroyed them yet?

You decided to sit on the man-made bench, which was located towards the edge of the pond, that has been there for as long as you can remember.

Perfectly timed, one of your favourite songs from childhood started playing on your phone. The familiarity and nostalgia was getting to you as you thought about the people you cared about the most during that time.

You had left without a word. No goodbye, no explanation. Nothing.

On top of that, your phone was taken away from you so you couldn't even text or call anyone.

After everything that happened, your parents had decided to move away suddenly and never gave you a chance to see your friends again. They don't tell you anything so you don't know what made them move back to your hometown.

You couldn't help but wonder: do your old friends still live here? Do they even remember you? Or have they moved on with their lives?

You continued to sit there and drown in the memories attached to this quaint, moutain town.

What are your old friends up to now?

----

"You don't listen to me, you never fucking do!" The red-haired boy exploded towards his parents before storming out the front door.

He made his way to his usual spot. The spot where his life changed forever.

Kyle comes here everyday and waits for hours, sometimes his friends join him but he prefers to be alone. It's routine for him.

Everyone knows exactly why he comes here. People even join him in hopes of maybe getting an answer to the question: what happened to Y/N?

Nobody knows, but everyone remembers you.

Kenny kept that daffodil alive for years as it was the first time anyone had given him a flower, even if it was for a roleplaying game. Eric kept the weapons you made for him, as did most of the boys, he just claimed he never got around to getting rid of them. Stan kept his cape that you fixed for him after he got it ripped during a duel between him and Tolkien.

Then there was Kyle. He kept every single thing you made for him, and he even had an entire box kept safe under his bed filled to the brim of all your gifts.

The items ranged from flower crowns for various occasions and accessories that made him truly look like the elven king he chose to play, to printed out photos of you and him from all the good times you shared together.

Snapping back to reality, he realised he finally made it to his destination.

He knew the route to where all the best memories were made like the back of his hand. The amount of times he has sat and waited in case you showed up, like you were a mythical creature. The Dragonborn.

Sunlight seeping through the leaves was always so pretty, to both you and Kyle. It also served as an indication of being close to your shared favourite spot.

Following the desire path that was made as a result of everyone involved in your childhood game, he was getting closer to the area.

It took a second for him to realise he was following the sound of humming. That's wholesome.

Wait.

His head snapped down from admiring the luscious trees.

Could it be?

He turned the corner. There you were, but... was it really you? He decided to hide behind a tree closer to you.

Meanwhile, you sat there blissfully unaware of your old friend's presence. You were thinking about him, and how happy he made you. You'd be lying if you said you didn't like him when you were younger.

You wondered how things would have been if you stayed. Would you ever get the chance to be with him? Is he still the hot-headed boy that had a soft spot for you? How does he feel about the entire situation. Did he feel the same at the time?

The song coming to an end, you decided to just turn the music off entirely and enjoy the peace of nature.

That's when you heard rustling and the sound of a twig breaking behind you, followed by someone muttering. "Shit."

You turned around and saw none other than...

"Kyle Broflovski?" Your eyes widened in shock as they met his inquisitive eyes.

"Y/N L/N?" A warm grin crept it's way onto his face. He offered his hand, and you eagerly took it. "Oh my— look at you!"

Your face was growing hotter by the minute as he looked you up and down, not in a weird way, just in disbelief that you're here.

"You're really here!" He was seconds away from bursting into tears as your mere presence let the memories flow back to him all at once.

"Do you need a hug?" You asked bashfully, exactly how you used to when you were kids. Your hugs always made him feel better whenever he was feeling some sort of negative emotion.

"C'mere," he mumbled and pulled you into his arms.

The two of you spent hours catching up and reminiscing on your childhood. After a while, you asked about everyone else and that's when he explained everyone still lives there. It was only you who ever moved away.

"Do you want to go see everyone?"

#kyle broflovski #kyle broflovski x reader #south park #south park fanfiction #south park x y/n #fluff #south park stick of truth #stick of truth

[redbootsindoriath]

Okay so I, like most Silmarillion fanartists, draw the Fëanorian twins as looking like...well...kids.  The book says they were the youngest in the family, and we all went, “Okay then they’re children.”  Which...yeah, that’s fair.  They really just seem to be chilling most of the time, which makes them seem a bit more innocent than the others.  But rather early on in my time doing Silm fanart, I thought about how funny if would be if they looked way older than their brothers.  But I never did anything with the idea.

Well, after finishing the Fëanorian Week drawings this year I was thinking about how I don’t really draw many Ñoldor due to not having headcanons about many of them.  And you guys know by this time that I love a bit of good angst, so I looked at the twins and said, “...ooh goody” and gave them a big old revamp.  (The drawing is of Amras and Maedhros, by the way.  For one thing, I’ve said before that I don’t like drawing identical twins. And for another…we’ll get into that in a second.)

Real quick, for those who aren’t super familiar with the different pieces of source material we have from Tolkien: in the Silmarillion both twins survive most of the story until they die together in the same battle near the end of the book. However, in one lone version of the story, Amrod dies when the ships are burned at Losgar.  Okay so.  That’s what’s been published, from here on out it’s just headcanon territory.

I think Amrod did die when the ships were burned.  Elves are spiritually a bit...different...so I expect twins have a particularly strong bond.  Amras wasn’t really able to handle the death of his brother, and went a little bit weird in the head.  He believed that half of his own soul died at Losgar, and half of Amrod’s still lived inside of him.  For the rest of his life, he answered to Amrod’s names, his own names, and Ambarussa, and signed his name and managed accounts as any of them as well.  He refused to acknowledge Amrod’s death and became irrational when any of his brothers mentioned it, so eventually they played along.  The story spreads that there were two of Fëanor’s sons that guard East Beleriand, but they are unsocial and rarely seen together.  People will report having seen one or the other of them but no one can tell the difference (in reality, this is because there is only one that is still alive.)

It’s uncertain who all knows about Amrod’s death, even among the Ñoldor that came with Fingolfin.  Most of the Sindar and Silvan elves don’t know.  Probably no humans know.  Anyone who does know doesn’t talk about it, and all everybody else knows is what they're told, and this is why in most versions of the story they both survive until Sirion.  For a while you’d see one or the other of them out hunting or going to war, and you just assumed the other was doing something else.  But then after Sirion no one ever saw either one.  Therefore, they obviously both died in the same battle.

Anyway, that’s just the version I came up with.  I don’t know if I’ll keep it, but it makes Amras a much more interesting character.  And that let me come up with a more visually interesting design, much older than I used to draw them.  Whether this was always the way they looked or a change that Amras went through after arriving in Middle Earth I haven’t decided yet.

#amras #amrod #(mentioned) #maedhros #the man the myth the legends #three shinies #my trash #sometimes i overthink stuff #/end classification tags #and that concludes the art dump of the day with a bonus ramble #hopefully i didn't make any typos #or leave out anything major #i wrote this in a bit of a rush

[sindar-princeling]

(I was wondering for a while if I should edit this post to be neater, or erase the things I've already said, but after all I decided to keep it just as it was, because over the past few months I was adding more and more thoughts to it as I edited, and I wanted to keep them that way, unedited and just the way they came to me. so here are some thoughts I had while editing the newsletter)

editing LOTR to go chronologically felt like constantly finding some hidden gems that can only be found when you read that way, and wondering if they were put there intentionally (and knowing jirt, they most probably were). it was a truly, deeply special experience, and a unique way of experiencing LOTR to me

there are so many fragments where jirt says what happens after everything! the ponies were okay, Pippin cried when he heard horns after the battle of Pelennor fields for years to come, even the prologue reveals some information about who survived the War

the long breaks in Rivendell and Lórien were very interesting in this format. some people were remarking how they liked thinking about the fellowship just chilling during those breaks, and I think it created a nice effect of both the characters and us forgetting how close the danger is for them. it let us take those breaks with them!

the only part of the quest that doesn't have a date assigned to it takes part in Lórien, it's the one where Frodo and Sam sing about Gandalf. and it's SUCH a good detail! Tolkien kept track of every event, of dates and even times of day for the entire duration of the quest, but this fragment is just Somewhere There, because in Lórien time seems to stand still, and you can never know when you are

the only other fragments which are confusing time-wise take place during the dark days with no sun, which is of course a great writing choice, but even they are described in Appendix B - the Lórien fragment has no date, no reference point, nothing

it doesn't hit you that much when you read the book, but the battle of Helm's Deep happened literally just one (1) week after the breaking of the Fellowship. Aragorn was out there having the Worst Week Of His Fucking Life

I loved feeling the impact of certain events more while reading chronologically (the three hunters running for days made more impact on me when I was sending yet another entry and they were still running)

before actually going through TTT and ROTK, I was preparing for very long entries for each day. but after the Tower of Cirith Ungol and the Battle of the Pelennor Fields (March 15th), the next ten days before the Ring is destroyed are so... empty in comparison. and it works amazingly well when you read according to dates. we hear just enough from Aragorn and the Host of the West to let the tension grow and grow. we hear just enough from Frodo and Sam to feel the oppressive atmosphere of these entries. but on the other hand, the entries are short enough to set our imaginations to work and make them fill in the rest. to me it's the perfect balance of the horror you read about and the horror you know is still there even after you close the book. this is what I mean by hidden gems, because it works that well only when you read day-by-day - in the book those fragments are just a few pages long, and you can get through those ten days very fast. but when you read according to dates, the torment is spread over so much time

the previous point is why I loved seeing the pacing in LOTR this way. in LOTR, so much can happen in ten days; and yet so little happened between march 15th and 25th besides fear and suffering

there was one part that gave me a headache because I spent so long trying to figure it out I forgot to eat - March 10th-14th in the Frodo and Sam subplot. it was a huge relief when I opened my atlas of Middle-earth and found its author Karen Wynn Fonstad had the same doubts when she'd been researching for the book that I did (and also that she arrived at the same conclusion).

apart from the March 11th-14th fragments, the most challenging day to edit was March 15th because Everything Happened So Much, and many things - simultaneously. it was a choice between chopping certain fragments into really small bits or sacrificing the impact of certain scenes

the only thing I'm sad about losing in this format is the ending, because Frodo getting ill and leaving Middle-Earth in fall, the same season as when he first set out, brackets the plot of LOTR such a beautiful and heartbreaking way and underlines one last time that "there and back again" is never really just that - you always end up somewhere else than where you started

#lotr newsletter #it's mine my own my precious