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#The Hobbit fan fiction
middleearthpixie · 9 months
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Can you please write a fic where Thorin falls in love with a human girl, but he thinks she is disgusted by his looks? 🙏
Hi there, Nonny!! I know it took me forEVER, but here you go and i hope you like it! 💜
The Harp
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Summary: You and Thorin are friends, but then you find out his feelings for you run deeper, and he’s holding back because he feels he is not good enough for you.  
Pairing: Thorin x fem!Reader (post-sack of Erebor, pre-quest for Erebor)
Warning: None. Just fluffy fluff
Rating: G
Word Count: 4.7k
***
He came into the dining room at the same time each evening and always sat at the same table—the one in the far corner, which was also the darkest corner of the room. He was polite, but kept to himself and you noticed how he always sat with his back to the wall and rarely did his eyes pause from scanning the room. 
The other diners eyed him with just as much suspicion but then again, they all eyed each other with suspicion as well. It was second nature to this lot, as they came from all four corners of Middle Earth. No one was actually from Emyn Vanya. No, every warm body had come from somewhere else to this tiny village on the outskirts of everywhere and yet somehow in the middle of nowhere. Some came to start over. Some came to forget. Some came to do both and some were just passing through. But everyone was from somewhere else and almost no one wished to discuss where that somewhere else might be.
You couldn't help but notice him, for he was a dwarf and the Grey Gander did not see many dwarves in their dining room. And not only that, but he was a handsome dwarf, to boot, with black hair, touched here and there with hints of silver, that spilled over his shoulders in a long tangle of curls. His most striking feature was his eyes, however, for they were the most piercing shade of icy blue you’d ever seen. There was a hardness within those pale eyes, one belied by his polite demeanor and deep, if soft, voice. 
Night after night, this man came in alone. He sat alone. He spoke to no one other than you when you approached to take his order, just as you did this evening. He was polite, if reserved, and spoke only when absolutely necessary, which was an interesting change from the patrons who grew louder and more opinionated as they dove further and further into their cups. 
“Welcome back,” you said with a smile as you approached him. “Might I fetch you a drink to begin?”
“Thank you. A tanked of ale would suit.”
“Of course. And do you know what you’d like or are you still trying to decide?”
He looked up at you with those striking eyes. “The hunter’s stew.”
His order never varied and you were certain you could just bring him a bowl of the stew without asking, which was why you couldn't resist a bit of playing with him. “I think we should start calling that your usual. Perhaps we should change it on the menu itself.”
That earned you one of the dwarf’s rare smiles. “I am not so certain that is necessary.”
“Well, you’ve been in here eight of the last ten nights and have yet to order anything different.” You couldn’t help teasing him. You sensed a hint of sadness in him, one that might explain the hardness in his eyes. And while it was a bit of a risk, teasing this man you didn’t really know, you had to admit, his smile made the risk worthwhile.
“But,” you added, taking your teasing further than you normally did, “you would have to tell me your name first. I certainly cannot ask to rename it Dwarf Stew. That would give the wrong impression, don’t you think?”
A darkness flashed through his eyes and you knew you’d overstepped. Your mind raced as you struggled to come up with something to smooth over his obviously ruffled feathers, knowing your employer would be furious if your flippancy drove away a paying customer. “I mean… that is… I apolo—”
“No,” he interrupted softly, shaking his head, “there is no need to apologize. And you’re right, it would sound odd. So, I suppose then, it would only be fair to tell you my name, wouldn’t it?”
Your heart beat a little faster at that. Perhaps it was but your imagination, but his voice sounded lower than it normally did. Lower and bit growlier. Had he, by any chance, noticed you the way you’d noticed him?
No, that was madness talking. Very few people noticed you aside from being their serving girl. You tended to blend into the background far too easily and since so many people in Emyn Vanya were only passing through, they paid little heed to you.
Still, that didn't stop you from replying, “It would, yes.”
To your surprise, that earned you a laugh. A genuine, honest-to-goodness laugh and one that sent flutters through you as it rolled across the small table in your direction. Like his voice, it was low and silken, and those flutters made you forget your own name for a moment.
“Very well,” he nodded, his eyes meeting and holding yours, “I am Thorin.”
You offered your name in return and added, “It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance, Thorin.”
“And yours as well.”
Heat climbed into your cheeks and you ducked your head, saying, “I will be back in a few moments with your ale,” you hesitated, then added, “Thorin.”
“I will be here.”
Thorin sat back as you darted off and couldn't believe his cheek. What had possessed him to even think to flirt with you? Your interest had to be only because he was a paying customer, because there was no way a woman as beautiful as you could possibly be interested in him. 
The first time he stepped into the Grey Gander, he’d noticed you at once, noticed how easily you smiled and joked with the tavern’s patrons. Your laughter was a silvery melody that made everyone turn in your direction and smile even if they had no idea what it was that made you laugh. 
He noticed everything about you—from that amazing smile and intoxicating laughter to your beautiful eyes and easy grace with which you moved about the crowded dining room. You never seemed impatience, or irritated, and even when someone gave you a hard time about something, you never lost your temper and somehow managed to defuse the most volatile of situations. 
The second night he’d come in, he’d witness such a scene, almost reaching for his sword, propped against the table, when the giant of man actually grabbed you by the arm. He had no doubt he’d have intervened if you needed it, but you didn’t. You smiled at the man as you peeled his fingers from your wrist and very sweetly informed him that if he touched you again, you’d turn him from a rooster to a hen in one fell swoop. 
It was at that moment, Thorin lost his heart.
A foolish notion at best, as you would never feel about him the way he did you. Why would you? He was a dwarf. He had no home. He had been in line for a throne, but now supported himself by moving from place to place, taking work where he could find it. 
That was what brought him to Emyn Vanya. His trade was blacksmithing and the village needed one. So, there he was, in the dining room of the Grey Gander, admiring you from afar and wishing he stood a chance at winning your hand. 
It was just as well, for what did he have to offer you? A king with no kingdom was no better than a pauper, really. Not to mention, he certainly couldn’t compete with the men of Emyn Vanya, who were all taller, slimmer, and far more attractive than he certainly was. You would be a fool to even consider him.
But, he watched you from afar, watched as you moved from table to table, how you brought a beaming smile to the face of an old crone, how you soothed angry children bickering over a toy, how you made a crying infant smile by making silly faces until they could do nothing else. 
How you focused on him as if he was the most interesting man in the room and not, for lack of a better phrase, a homely, homeless refugee. 
If only…
He sighed as you approached with a tankard in one hand. His heart beat so much faster when you met his gaze. His mouth went as dry as the plains between his lost kingdom of Erebor and the city of Dale after the dragon Smaug torched it from one end to the other.
You set the tankard before him. “Your supper will be ready in but a few minutes, Mr. Thorin.”
Mr. Thorin. He smiled, shaking his head. “No Mister. Thorin is just fine.”
“Oh, well that wouldn’t be proper now, would it?” Your eyes almost sparkled as your easy smile curved your lips. “After all, we only just met.”
“This is true,” he nodded, reaching for the tankard. Then, on impulse, he added, “Perhaps you might join me one evening?”
You looked taken aback and he immediately berated himself silently. You fool! What is wrong with you?
But then you smiled. “I think I would like that. I have an off night tomorrow. Would that work for you?”
He was stunned, not only by your agreement, but by your suggestion. No woman ever approached him that way. He’d always been the one to ask. You were bold and he admired that. So, he nodded. “That would work just fine for me.”
“Wonderful. What time?”
“Half seven?”
“Half seven it is,” you told him. “And I’ll be back in but a moment with your supper.”
****
What were you thinking? How could you just blurt out an invitation to him that way? He must think you a harlot, or a wanton woman for doing so. 
But at the same time, as you smoothed a hand along your skirts, you had to admit, you looked so forward to seeing him without having to wait upon him. It was a nice change of pace for you. A break in the monotony of your life that was work, sleep, and more work.
You’d told him where you lived, a rundown little flat above the florist’s shop, and at half eight, when the knock came at the door, you nearly jumped clear out of your skin. Then, laughing at your foolishness, you hurried to the door, before he thought you’d changed your mind and left. 
You smiled as you pulled open the door. “You are early.”
“I allowed myself extra time in case I found myself lost. I’m still new to these parts and this town takes a bit of getting used to.”
“If you remember the streets run east and west, and the avenues run north and south, you might fare better.”
He bobbed his head. “I would, but there are three florists on this street alone.”
“It is a very competitive business in Emyn Vanya.”
“So I’ve noticed.” 
You hesitated a moment and then stepped aside. “Come in.”
As he stepped over the threshold, you tried not to dwell on how shabby your flat was, with its scratched and scuffed hand-me-down furnishings. After you paid your rent and made certain there was food on the table, there was not much money left for luxuries such as nice furniture. Normally, it didn't trouble you. This was your home and you thought it cozy, if a bit rundown. But, when you tried to see it through Thorin’s eyes? 
You saw exactly how awful it must have looked to him. Threadbare sofa. The armchair had a hole in the cushion thanks to a broken spring, which meant that not only was stuffing peeping up from the hole, one received a nasty poke in the backside, should they think to sit there. 
And of course, there was that awful water stain in the far corner. You had no idea from where it had come, only that no matter how much you tried to paint over it, it bled through. You’d given up trying when paint fell into the luxury category.
But, he reached up for the frogs at his throat and then whisked his cloak off to drape over his arm. “This is lovely.”
Lovely? You looked about, wondering exactly what he found so lovely about it. “It’s a bit… ah… worn, don't you think?”
“Lived in, is how I would describe it.” He smiled at you. “Homes should be lived in. That is how they become such. Otherwise, they are but houses, flats, nothing more than buildings.”
You looked back at him. “Lived in?”
He nodded. “Lived in.” 
Then he looked back at you and for a moment, you were rendered speechless. Did he have any idea whatsoever as to how handsome he truly was? Because if he did, he certainly did not act as if he did.
Of course, you kept that to yourself, especially when that night, a deep friendship was born. You had dinner together on the nights when you weren’t working. You spent off days together, sometimes running errands with each other, sometimes just doing nothing. He had a knack for the acrostics printed in the village newspaper and the two of you spent your share of days or nights looking up which answers you thought would work. It didn't matter. He had quickly become your dearest friend and while you loved that, you’d also begun thinking that perhaps there was a bit more to your relationship than only friendship.
It was too bad he’d never given any indication at all that he saw you as anything more than a friend.
So you stayed quiet. Autumn gave way to winter and the Yule holiday was only a few days off when you made your way to Thorin’s forge at the northern end of town. A bitter cold wind whipped down the narrow alleyway where his shop was located and you didn't have to look to know you were near it. The carved wooden sign identifying the forge creaked on its hooks as it swung in the wind. Through the swirling snow, you could still make out the word etched into the wood. 
Blacksmith
Beneath that word, Thorin had carved symbols as well, and when you’d asked, he’d smiled and explained that they were a language called khuzdul, which was his native language, actually. He’d attempted to teach you some of it, and showed nothing but patience as you fumbled over seemingly simple words. Little by little, though, it became easier and left you wishing you had something like that to share with him. 
But then you found something. One night, over several goblets of wine, he confessed that he once played the harp, but had lost his when he’d lost his home, but that was all he would say about either the harp or what happened to his home. So, you’d saved a bit of your pay each week and put it aside and then went to the music shop at the far end of town and found what you’d hoped would be a suitable replacement harp. It wasn't a big, grand instrument, as those were far beyond what you could ever hope to afford, but you hoped he’d like it the same. You couldn’t remember the last time you were so excited and impatient to give someone a gift as you were this one, which was why you braved the worsening weather.  
So there you were, at the far end of a gray-shingled building with a roof in need of repair, listening to the almost melodic sound of metal striking metal. The closer you drew to his workshop, the warmer the air grew and as you rounded the corner, a blast of heat hit you square in the face. It was a welcome sensation as your cheeks felt quite numb from the cold. 
He had his back to you and heat shot through you at the sight of him, shirtless in deference to that blasted heat, the muscles in his back and along his shoulders bulging as he held a piece of iron in one hand, a hammer in the other. The clang rang through you when he brought the hammer slamming against the iron, again and again and you couldn't help but just stare. 
Your eyes roamed over his naked back, heavy with obviously well-earned muscle, and inked with black lines of varying sizes that covered his entire shoulder, stretched across his back, and into the opposite shoulder as well. You had no idea what the symbols and lines meant, but they looked very similar to the ones carved into the forge’s sign, so your guess was they were dwarfish runes or words.
The heat in the forge was brutal regardless of how cold it was beyond the walls. Sweat prickled along your back as you stepped closer. You didn't want to startle him. The iron with which he worked began with an orange glow, but slowly, as he pounded it flat, the glow faded and when he set down the hammer and used a pair of tongs to pick up the flattened piece and thrust it into a tub of water, steam actually rose from the tub.
“Thorin?”
He jumped, letting go of the tongs as he spun around and now heat shot up into your cheeks at the naked chest you found yourself staring at. Like his back, his chest was just as broad, with black hair swirled from one nipple to the other and down across his belly. More symbols had been inked across it, meeting with the design on his left shoulder.
“I am so sorry,” you stammered, tearing your eyes from that impressive sight to meet his startled blue eyes, “I was trying not to startle you.”
“What are you doing here?”
You hugged the package close. “I had to go and pick something up and thought while I was out, I’d stop by.” You peered around him, at the iron still resting in the water. “What are you making?”
“A sword.” He reached for the towel draped over the workbench and swept it across his forehead. “You should not be in here. It’s far too dangerous.”
“I will come no closer then. But tell me, who commissioned the sword?”
“No one. It is mine. I work on it when I’ve a bit of free time.”
“Might I see?”
“It’s not even close to being finished.” He came around the bench and stood before you. His black hair was damp at the temples. 
“You don't have to stop on my account, you know.” You took a step closer to him, the urge to reach out and touch him so powerful, it nearly overwhelmed you. You wish you had the courage to tell him how you’d come to feel about him, as you’d had when you’d left your flat. You’d left there full of fire and determined to confess your feelings for him, but unfortunately, by the time you reached his forge, that courage evaporated like the water in the tub had. 
“It would be rude of me to continue.”
“Not at all. I think it would be fascinating, watching you work.” 
His gaze shifted slightly to his left and you followed it to see what he looked at—a heavy dark gray henley lay draped over a chair by his desk. Without thinking, you shifted the package to one arm and reached out to catch him by the upper arm as he stretched for his shirt.
“Wait, don’t,” you said, shaking your head.
“Don’t?”
You nodded. “I—what is this?” You traced your fingertips along the thick black lines curving his shoulder, unable to believe your own brazenness but unable to halt your touch as well. 
“It’s my… my… it’s a raven,” he managed, his voice deep and huskier than usual. He cleared his throat. “The symbol of my clan, and my family crest.”
You could not keep yourself from tracing along those lines as little by little, the image of a raven wearing a crown slowly showed itself to you. You’d held back from telling him how you felt for so long, now that the opportunity to perhaps go beyond friendship had presented itself and you were not about to let it slip by. But… you had to be careful. It was a delicate matter and that called for delicate handling. The last thing you wished to do was destroy your friendship with him.
With that, you lowered your hand “It’s lovely.”
“Thank you.”
“This is for you, by the by.” You pressed the package toward him. “I know Yule isn’t for several more days, but when I went to pick this up, I grew far too impatient to wait.”
He stared down at it. “What is it?”
“Well, you have to open it to find out.”
He took the package and slowly unwrapped it and then just stared, his blue eyes growing shiny as he murmured, “How did you know?”
“You told me, silly.” You nudged him with your shoulder. “Remember? We were talking about how my neighbor plays the harpsichord and how awful it sounds and you told me you once played the harp. So, I asked Mr. Trumble if he could find me a harp for you and he did me one better. He made this.”
“He—” those blue eyes met yours, wide and incredulous—“made this?”
You nodded. “He did, indeed.”
He gazed down at the harp, and then back at you. “I—this—this is beautiful. I thank you.”
“There is one condition to it, however.” You nudged him once more. “You must play it for me.”
“Oh, I couldn't now. I’d be far too rusty.”
“Well, once you flake off all the rust.”
“Fair enough.” He offered up a smile brighter than any you’d ever seen from him. “You shouldn’t have done this, though. Save your wages, don’t spend them on me.”
“I didn't mind.” You shrugged as if you spent that kind of money all the time. “And it’s Yule, so it was but a small sacrifice.”
He stepped closer. “This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me, you know. I will treasure it. And you.”
And with that, he leaned in and to your surprise, pressed his lips to yours. You froze at first, caught by utter surprise, as this was the last thing you’d expected him to do. For one maddening moment, you wondered if perhaps you were just imagining it.
But then, his lips moved softly against yours and your toes actually curled in your sensible boots when he brought his hands up to cup your face, and you knew that this was, in fact, actually happening. And how wonderful it was! The sensations that rippled through you were soft and sweet, the crisp, coarse hair around his mouth tickling at first, but then you found you didn't mind it so much as it was a caress of its own. 
Your head did a slow spin, his kiss leaving you lightheaded and when your hands came to rest on those massive upper arms of his, your fingers pressed into muscle that greatly resembled stone of their own accord. You were afraid your weak knees might buckle on you at any moment.
His kiss was slow and sweet, teasing and gentle and when his lips parted and his tongue swept gently along yours, your head spun even faster. A rush of heat swept through you. Your lips tingled. Your heart beat harder and faster and it took every bit of will you had to not melt right into his arms. 
When he drew back, his eyes were soft, swirling with an emotion you couldn’t quite place and he seemed as breathless as you were as he murmured, “I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time now.”
“What?”
He nodded. “I do and I did and now I just want to do it again.” Then he paused, a hint of sheepishness creeping into his smile, into his eyes, “Unless, of course, you’d rather I didn’t.”
“No, I’d not rather that at all,” you told him, smiling as you curved a hand against his cheek. “In fact, I’d like it very much if you would do it again. And again. And I think you should keep doing, no matter where we might be.”
A low chuckle rumbled up from the depths of his chest. “So, I am not about to send you screaming into the snow?”
“Hardly.” 
“Are you certain? I mean,” he rubbed his bearded jaw ruefully, a sheepish smile coming to his lips, “I know people whisper about me and poke fun at me behind my back.”
“They whisper about you because they are fascinated by you. And no one pokes fun at you. I know they think you’re quite an excellent smithy, judging by what I’ve heard. And I won’t even tell you what the women say about you.”
To your surprise, his sheepish smile faded and a darkness came to his eyes. “I can only imagine.”
“Have I said something wrong? I thought I was complimenting you. Do dwarves not like to hear how handsome they are thought to be?”
“Handsome?” He snorted as he shook his head. “That’s kind of you, but I’ve seen my own face and that is not how I’d describe it.”
“Well, perhaps you should but have Mr. Sinclair examine your eyes, for you are not only handsome, but very handsome.”
He stared at you, clearly not believing a word you said. “Thank you, but you are just being kind, as you’ve been since we met.”
“Thorin,” you caught his hands in yours, “I’ve been wishing you’d notice me as more than simply your friend, that you’d kiss me, and perhaps I’ve been too brazen in taking the first step. If you wish me to leave you alone, I will.”
“Leave me alone?” His eyes went wide and he shook his head once more. “No, no, I don’t wish that at all. In fact, I—”
A scarlet flush swept up into his cheeks and he went quiet. You waited for him to continue, your heart hammering away at your ribs. All you wanted was for him to pull you into his arms, to tug you flush against that massive chest, and kiss you until you forgot your name.
“You what?” you asked softly.
“I lied. About the sword.” He smiled then. “It’s for you, actually. For Yule. I meant it to be a surprise.”
“For me? But I don't even know who to wield one.”
“Worry not, for I will teach you. When the weather breaks.”
“You did this for me? You would do that for me?”
He nodded. “I would do anything for you, you know.” His eyes softened then as he smiled. “I love you.”
This was the last thing you ever expected him to say and you could only stare at him for a long moment, as your stupid brain forgot how to process words. The best you could muster was a whispered, “What?”
“I love you. I’ve been wanting to tell you for some time now, but how could I when I thought you would be embarrassed to be courted by me. So, I relegated myself to knowing we would only ever be friends, but now…”
“Embarrassed to be courted by you? Are you mad, Thorin? Are you absolutely and completely mad? Because you would have to be to think any woman alive would be embarrassed to be courted by you.” You shifted to wind your arms about his neck. “And no one has ever made something for me. At least, not something as beautiful as a sword. So, if I didn't already love you in return, I would have most definitely fallen at this moment.”
He smiled. “So, all this time, it would’ve only taken a sword to win your hand?”
“I’m a very simple woman, Thorin. You should know that by now.”
Your heart skipped a beat as he eased his arms about your waist, pulling you flush against him. He leaned closer, his lips just brushing yours as he murmured, “I’ll keep it in mind.”
You tried to think of something witty to reply with, but then his lips met yours once more and rendered words unnecessary.
***
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589 notes · View notes
snazzynacho · 6 months
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Snapdragon & Co. Masterlist
The Hobbit fan fiction/Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!fairy!elf!OC
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My (mainly lotr/hobbit) account is @whorin-oakenshield yet I’m posting this on here bc this is where I’ve already posted my fan fics to lol
Read on ao3 here
Read on wattpad here
Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Dragon Sickness, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Found family, Mage, Magic, Psychic abilities, Just kiss you idiots, Fae, Fairies, Fae magic, Thorin got that Royal Rizz™, Fili and Kili are sillies, Multiple Endings.
Synopsis: A lonely half-elf-half-fairy and her long-lost sister, whose speciality is magic, join forces with Thorin Oakenshield and Company. To them they are doing a noble thing but little do they know what darkness lies ahead. And what of their past they have to face.
Or, in which,
She had a heart of gold and he was addicted.
chapters under the cut:
Chapters:
1
2
More coming soon!
33 notes · View notes
linasofia · 1 year
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The Fire
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Fandom: The Hobbit
Words: 3,3K
Warnings: 18+
Summary: A young adventurous dwarven woman sneaks out to explore the depth of the mountain, but she never could have foreseen what she discovers there, or how she would be affected by it.
A/N: I was inspired by this amazing piece of art by @procoffeinating, who generously agreed to let me post it together with my fic. Thanks once again! 💙💙💙
”The dwarves delved too greedily and too deep. You know what they awoke in the darkness of Khazad-dum... shadow and flame.”
Maybe this was one of her more stupid ideas, but Polina felt in her heart that something rewarding waited at the end of her private exploration. Too curious and stubborn to let go of an exciting opportunity like this, she had carefully planned her secret adventure. She discovered a hidden passage by accident, far down under the mountain, where she was sent to find Master Yugril deep in the mines. Always keen on exploring new territory, she deviated from her original plan and, against better judgement, made sure to memorize the place. A few nights later, when the mountain was sleeping, Polina made sure she remained unseen as she pressed her body through the small and barely visible opening. Beyond lay the passage which she could not wait to chase into the unknown.
Since she started to follow in her father’s footsteps and learned the difficult craft of transforming precious stones into jewelry, she often visited the mines to understand more about the extraction of the beautiful gems she was entrusted with. She knew her way around but this time she was on untrodden stones. Her heart was beating hard, like the hammer in the hand of one of those rough blacksmiths she secretly admired as often as she could.
The air gradually became warmer the further she walked, and darkness seemed even more compact. Polina held the small lantern as high as she could to spread its warm but faint light. She no longer doubted that the passage went deeper than the mines she left behind for the path turned steep and she had to steady herself on the rough walls to prevent herself from slipping. Falling and smashing the lantern was a greater fear than facing her father’s wrath, if he ever found out what she was doing. Still, her curiosity held her in a demanding grip, and even if she had wanted to, she could not turn back now.
Ever since she was a young girl, her mother had told her that she was too adventurous for a girl. Polina never showed any interest in staying at home and learning the skills needed to maintain a household. Instead, she followed her father like a shadow as soon as he was crafting, amazed by his skills and the beautiful things he created. She often ran away with some of the boys to find treasures, as they liked to call them. It could be anything, they never knew what a treasure was until they gazed upon it. Sometimes it was something lost, nothing of value, but interesting enough to catch their attention. Other times it was a place none of them had visited before. And one time it got really exciting, when they found a crack in the mountain. Polina, the smallest in the group, was the only one tiny enough to slip through, and she could still recall the combination of thrill and fear that exploded in her chest when she stood alone on the other side, surrounded by darkness. Back then, the fear of being alone forced her back to her friends but she never forgot the feeling. It marked her for life.
Polina wondered how long she had walked, it felt like a small eternity. Thankfully the path had not divided, so for now she would have no trouble finding her way back. Suddenly she became aware of a small change in the air around her. She was used to all of the different smells her people produced in the mountain. Everything from the smell of food in the large dining halls to smoke rising from the forges was familiar to her, but as she walked, her nose picked up another, unfamiliar scent. It reminded her of smoke, but less unpleasant to breathe in. It did not stick to her tongue as regular smoke did, it felt cleaner somehow. Briefly, she wished that Master Yugril had been with her. He might have known what caused this faint, yet strange smell. But then she thought better of it. Master Yugril would have a few hard words to say to a young dwarven woman, exploring the mountain alone. If she wanted to know the secrets in the depths of this mountain, she needed to find out for herself.
The mountain did nothing to help her. Instead it forced her to walk uncomfortably with her back against the wall, and the lantern did not illuminate much, hanging low in her hand. But Polina urged herself further until there seemed to be a dead end. The walls almost leaned on each other and the gap was not enough for a male dwarf to pass. Polina swallowed hard. She knew she was considered small by the standards of her people, maybe she could fit if she was lucky enough. The memory of the triumph she had felt as a young girl when she achieved what the boys could not, made the decision for her. Afraid to ruin the dress, she decided that it was better to proceed in a less formal way. She pulled the dress over her head and let it fall to the ground. Her underskirt was long enough and wearing only her chemise and corset made her movements a little easier. She laughed nervously at herself. Why was she worried? She was all alone and nobody would see her. The risk of being spotted from the window in her own chamber was bigger and she undressed there daily. She took a deep breath to steady herself, exhaled loudly and then closed her eyes. And proceeded.
Rough stone scraped against her chest and for a short while she thought she was going to get stuck. But then it appeared like the mountain finally was on her side, for the pressure suddenly vanished and Polina stumbled forward when the walls let go of her body, gasping for air. She realized she had stepped right into a large cave and with widened eyes she held up her lantern and looked closely at the wall behind her. No marks on the stone, no signs of any dwarf claiming to have discovered this unfamiliar place before she did. Her heart was drumming. How exciting!
With the lantern in a tight grip she started to follow one of the walls. Her small lantern only helped reveal part of the cave, but her instinct told her that there was a lot she could not see. And then it was that smell, she could feel it stronger now. It was definitely not smoke, at least not smoke coming from the usual burning wood. With one hand on the stone she followed the harsh curves of the mountain. Suddenly she froze in her tracks. Something felt different; ominous and alluring at the same time. It was as if the mountain was breathing and fanning her skin with every warm breath. The old walls were watching her and needed to decide if she was a friend or foe. Then her eyes caught a movement in the dark. Now she was sure. She was not alone. She stood still and listened. Afraid of not being able to find her way back to the small opening, Polina did not dare to move away from the wall. She held up the lantern in an attempt to see more, but it was useless. If she had known, she would have brought one of her father’s large lanterns. Or maybe a torch. She trembled. It did not matter now, all she could do was wait.
It was in the faint light she saw the next movement. Something, or someone, was moving in the shadows just beyond the light. She took a step back, and her shoulders came to rest against the hard stone. Despite her best effort she could not see anything in the dark. It was not until the cave’s inhabitant, without the slightest warning, stepped into the light that she could see properly. The sight made her cry out in shock and she would have fainted, if it was not for the sturdy wall behind her.
Polina was certain that the strange and quite terrifying looking creature staring down on her was not one of Mahal’s creations. It was taller than any dwarf, maybe even taller than the race of Men. She had never traveled beyond their borders, so she was not sure, but stories had been told for as long as she could remember. They stared at each other and when he did not instantly kill her, she allowed herself to breathe again. She let her eyes rest on the heavy mass of muscles on the creature's chest, remarkably similar to her own race in their shape. Unable to stop her gaze, she followed the hairless skin down until she gazed upon a heavy manhood. She gasped and averted her eyes, but she already knew she would never be able to forget what she just saw. The male’s skin was darker than hers, and the uncovered shaft hanging passively from him made her blush. His eyes briefly gleamed like gold when she met his gaze again and it made her curiosity take over.
”What kind of creature are you?” She spoke in the common speech her father had taught her. ”One day,” he had said when they started, ”you might need to speak to people of different races. And that day you will shine brighter than all the other gems who never had the opportunity to learn.”
The male did not answer her. Nothing on his face revealed that he understood what she just said. She was not even sure he heard her. He approached her in a slow, predatory way, holding her gaze steadily with a pair of unusual looking eyes. They shifted between black and gold. The shape of his eyes was different from hers, and his stare far more intense than any other dwarf’s. He stopped only an arm’s length from her and if she reached out, she would be able to touch him. The thought did not scare her, even if the massive horns on his head made her question where he truly belonged. Then she felt it. Heat. It was no doubt coming from him. And the scent she had smelled even before she entered the cave, it was his. Up close it was a raw scent, alluring and somehow masculine. It was impossible for Polina to ignore how it affected her; her heart beat much faster and fueled her inner heat which began to spread in her body, uncontrolled like a firestorm. It was an unexpected, excessively intense and so unlikely feeling, far from anything else she had ever experienced. If she was in trouble before for going exploring on her own, she was in even deeper trouble now, when his piercing gaze made her weak.
Polina had never seen an adult male without a beard and the stranger’s clean face revealed his sharp, strong jaw and together with his incredibly hard body he looked both foreign and familiar at the same time. She wondered how it would feel to touch his silky skin, to run her fingers over his well-defined chest. Next to him, she felt tiny, and when he suddenly lifted his hand, she stopped breathing. Trapped, with her shoulders against the wall, she could not back away and she stared at his large hand as he approached her. Enchanted by his long fingers she did not blink when his index finger brushed against the fabric of her corset. There was a brief burning feeling against her skin and she glanced down in horror. A pile of ash lay at her feet, the sad remains of her clothes. She covered her mouth with her hand, to prevent her own screams from escaping her throat and looked back up at him. Now she was naked, just as he was.
For the first time he was the one who broke their eye contact and let his unusual stare follow the curves of her body. He lingered at her breasts and it made her wonder if she was the first female dwarf he met. The fear she initially felt was replaced with curiosity and she watched with fascination how his eyes gleamed like fire before they once again resembled black opals. In the light from her lantern she saw the beast hanging passively from his body coming to life. Like a predator it woke from its slumber and the thick head made her shiver. Her body answered its silent call.
Something about him made him irresistible. She felt drawn to him in a way she could not comprehend. Maybe it was the gold in his eyes, which spoke of promises she did not even dare try to fully understand, maybe her thirst to discover the unknown made her attracted to the dangerous look on his face or maybe it was simply the heat that surrounded him and eventually her. It could have been all of it, but Polina did not protest when he closed the gap between them, lifted her up in his massive arms and held her against his chest. Instead she wrapped her legs around his waist and welcomed the feeling of his skin against hers. A low groan was heard from the creature when her secret parts pressed against his skin and something in his eyes made her understand that he felt what she already knew; she was aroused.
With a steady grip on her bottom, the horned male let her slide down a little, no doubt leaving traces of her state on his lower belly. Her breath hitched when she became aware of his intention. The head of his engorged member pressed at her slickness and the adjustment her body willingly performed when he stretched her over the top made her whimper. Another groan filled her ears, louder and more feral. When he pushed deeper, Polina’s mind turned hazy and she crossed her arms around his neck. She was sure she was going to faint if he continued and she thought of the terrifying difference in size between them. There was no possibility for him to bury himself to the root, like, for example, the blacksmith would do, and therefore she could only hope that he was merciful. With a hoarse moan, he suddenly pulled her down on him, as far as her body allowed and Polina’s cry echoed between the walls. Then he held her still while her body fought against the shock, and when she finally started to relax, he met her gaze. Slowly, he started to move inside her and excitement filled her when she felt her body accepting him. She closed her eyes, leaned against his torso and let him take her in a sinnister pace she quickly became addicted to.
The darkness around her turned brighter, her body felt like it melted together with his and every thrust was a blessing by Mahal. They were no longer woman and beast, but two souls reaching for the same goal. She felt hot, like she was burning from the inside and the closer she came to her relief, the more she became aware that her great pleasure would come with a price: pain.
Polina lost the ability to focus on anything but the strange burning feeling inside her. Tears welled up in her eyes when her inner volcano erupted and the intense climax tore her apart. She cried out in relief and the roar from the creature rolled between the walls like thunder. There was no way she could tell if he had joined her, but he became still when she collapsed in his arms. She was exhausted, confused and in pain, but all she could think of was that he smelled like…fire.
The sight that awaited her when she opened her eyes made her cry out again, this time in fear. The man, who still had part of his enormous length buried in her, was glowing. His skin resembled the fire only found in the largest of furnaces and the thick veins on his arms seemed to crawl under his skin. Only his eyes were black as a moonless night.
Polina placed her hands on his chest and pushed as hard as she could. With a grunt he slipped out of her and let her land with her feet on the hard ground. She stared at him, his tall and muscular body seemed even larger now, as if he was growing before her eyes. A proof of his ecstasy spilled down her inner thigh and burned her skin like molten lava. He took a step forward, and despite the heat licking her body when he held his hand just above her shoulder, she trembled. When he let his hand fall down on her shoulder, she whimpered. He did not pull back. Without taking his eyes from her, he lifted his other hand, pointed at her eyes and with a voice darker than the deepest dungeon, he spoke one single word; ”Ersar”
Then a tortured expression filled his eyes and he took his hand from her shoulder. In the next blink of an eye, he stumbled backwards and lit up like a torch. She watched in horror how he roared in pain as the flames became part of him. When he met her gaze again, nothing of the man was left in him. He was only fire and his horns grew to a grotesque size and shape. Unable to move, she watched him light up the cave but when he lurched forward, her body finally decided to cooperate. She did what she should have done in the first place; she ran, the fastest she could.
Finding the small opening was easy in the guiding light from the beast and after she pressed herself through the narrow gap it quickly became darker and she allowed herself to slow down. Without the lantern she had to rely on her hands to find her way in the dark. It was not until she fell over something soft and familiar that she felt relatively safe. Without her corset, the dress felt strangely loose on her body, but it was far better than running naked.
Much later, when she sneaked back into her chamber unseen, she let out a deep sigh. Her body was still hurting and on her skin lingered a smoky scent. Polina washed her face over the bowl with cold water and then undressed in front of the mirror. She gazed at her sore body and was relieved when she did not see any burn marks. The painful memory of his pointing finger flashed before her eyes and it made her lean closer to the mirror. No marks on her face either and for that she was grateful. A faint smile spread on her lips but it died the moment realization hit her. How had he known her people's secret word for fire? Had he listened to them in the dark? Watched them also? And for how long? She knew dwarves grew older than Men, but what about beasts? How long had he waited in the dark?
Her hands trembled as she unbraided and combed her long hair. It spilled over her naked shoulders and she gave herself one last look in the mirror. That was when she saw it. She leaned closer to the mirror once more and stared at her reflection. In her eyes danced a small flickering fire. And instantly the burning feeling between her thighs was back. With a gasp she pressed her hand against the intense heat and the strange, but not only painful, feeling when her cold fingers met her sensitive skin made her moan. She wanted to cry, but no tears came. The horned beast had indeed marked her. Something in her heart told her that it was for life.
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lotrthobbit · 2 years
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                        Fragile Creature
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Thorin Oakenshield x Human GN! Reader
Warning: Angst
Reader is called a queen but still everything else should be Gender Neutral
I do not own any of the gifs
[y/n pov]
I lived in a small and crowded town, Lake Town. The town itself felt completely isolated and cold. Everyone was always in a sour mood, the clouds always loomed over the sun causing the hazy darkness to be a norm. It certainly did not look homey, but it was home.
What a provincial life, no escapades, no dashing handsome knights or kings, all but a greedy mayor and his goon who did nothing but enjoy the most finest of silks and delicious pastries and luxurious treatment off the backs of his people.
We were constantly taxed high prices only to be eating the same boring meals everyday, living amongst the cold town fighting for some warmth.
Until he came....
A group of dwarves and a hobbit had stumbled into our town, apparently one of the townsfolk, Bard, who was a kind man, a born leader, yet many looked down on him. He had snuck him into the town, yet the town itself seemed to be overjoyed to be in the presence of loyalty. King under the mountain, son of Thrain, son of Thror. He promised us riches when he reclaimed his stolen home, yet my body filled with fear because legends say that a strong dragon lay asleep in the mountain, Smaug the defiler.
Despite my fear, what could I do, such a charming smile laid on his face as he introduced himself.
I was a simple merchant selling small trinkets I made by hand using the bones from fish and clay, I made small figurines to sell in order to help my [mother/father/guardian] with the necessities.
"These are beautiful." I heard a voice and looked up to see the king himself. Despite his small stature, He carried himself well and strong.
When I looked into his eyes, I felt warmth spread across my cheeks," Thank you, my lord." He offered me some money, far more than what they were worth and placed a kiss upon my hand.
That is how my daily interactions began. At first he seemed to buy many, but then he had joined me whenever I would get on a small boat and go to the land to pick some herbs.
He stated it was for 'safety measures' despite knowing his time was limited here, I found myself falling in love with the handsome dwarf.
He longed to reclaim his home, often times whispering sweet nothings into my ear about how we could live in Erebor alongside one another, it did not matter if I was human, despite many seeing us as fragile 'creatures' we were no different than a dwarf, an elf, a hobbit, etc. We all breathe and fight to survive every single day.
Then came the departure... My hear hurt once they sailed off into the distance nothing but a chaste kiss placed upon my lips and a beautiful ring on my fingertips. Despite our short moments, we found ourselves madly in love.
The days grew dark and grim once again. We were back to the same old routines , no excitement and no warmth. Yet the people were hoping to see the reign of Thorin Oakenshield, the gates of Erebor to open itself and gift its people the riches they once thrived in.
Yet. something far worse happened. The once dark skies became red with fire and smoke. The once groaning and whining of the people were covered with screams of far and agony. The once horribly built structures were set ablaze by no other than Smaug. We were all rushed onto boats as Bard once retook the same role of the great bowman. he struck Smaug down and we all made it safely onto land. But we stared at the small town we once called home, completely parish into nothing.
I held the small ring in my hand, staring off into the mountains, despite my home becoming ashes, the only thing that was in my mind was whether or not my beloved was safe.
We found ourselves settling in the deserted City of Dale, hiding once we heard horns blare, the men going off to fight, women following behind. Us Laketown Folk fought alongside the elves against the orcs, but one thing that scared me the most was that before this, Thorin had completely disregarded us, he disregarded ME.
My heart lay in shambles, but nothing I could do or that he could do to stop me from loving him. I tried making my way towards the mountain hoping to reason with him, but as I got closer, the more Orcs seemed to be in my way. I thought I was going to die, my [short/long/bald] was covered In sweat and blood of my enemies. I stared up making eye contact with Thorin as his eyes widened.
In that moment I felt something puncture me,I fell to my knees still holding my gaze on the dwarf I came to love. Everything became silent to me, I could no longer hear anything but I could see Thorin was yelling. I felt my vision cloud with darkness until I could no longer see.
Momentarily it felt as if finally I could be at peace, despite knowing he was infected with the dragon sickness, I still felt better knowing he was safe and alive.
" [y/n]"
that voice ?
" [y/n} "
no, no he can not be here, it Is not his time.
I was in darkness, I was dead, I knew that much, yet why could I hear his voice ?
I turned around once I heard my name again and there he stood, there he stood with his hands spread wide, my heart hurt knowing we ended in the sam predicament but I could not hold myself back from running into his arms.
I felt other arms hug me and I realized Kili and Fili were here as well. Despite the darkness, it didn't feel so lonely.
" I promised to be with you forever." He whispered as he kissed me again
" forever." I repeated back.
[ Narrator pov]
As they all gathered looking at the tombs of Fili, Kili and Thorin Oakenshield, and beside him lay his lover. For all eternity this kingdom will flourish because of their sacrifices.
" LONG LIVE THE KING AND QUEEN "
the horns began to blare as they all mourned, Bilbo Baggins felt melancholy, his friends died but part of him was happy that they could all be reunited in the afterlife.
FIN
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roadtogracelandx45 · 1 year
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I am going down the Lord of The Rings/ The Hobbit rabbit hole again and decided to brush off the story and the oc I had made when the Hobbit movies came out. Would anyone be willing to read over it? I am kind of nervous to post it
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Chapters: 28/? Fandom: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Thranduil (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Thranduil (Tolkien), Legolas Greenleaf, Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s) Additional Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Trauma, Recovery, Eventual Romance, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con Summary:
Anna lives alone near the woods, recovering from trauma in her past. One day, she hears a child crying, and sets about a chain of events that leave her playing host to the Elven King.
New Discord server for chat and fic discussion: https://discord.gg/uzFGdfQ All are welcome!
I’M BACK!!!!!
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Metamorphosis by Dragmir
Rating:
Teen And Up
Archive Warning:
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Pairings:
Female Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Bilbo Baggins & Thorin's Company
Bilbo Baggins & Dís
Ori/Dwalin
Status:
Incomplete
68k words
last updated 2020/01/17
Summary:
Or, the one where Belladonna Baggins is sent back in time, if maybe a little too early?
Bella Baggins, young once more, decides to give the Quest for Erebor another shot. Only this time, she intends to get a headstart. After waking up in Bag End, Bella conjures a plan to help Dwarf and Hobbit alike and if it means she gets to see her old friends a little earlier than last time, well, where's the harm?
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Thranduil NSFW Alphabet
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Very caring and sweet. Wants to spend a lot of time wrapping his arms around his partner, like a mother koala. Will want to carry his partner to the bath and take his time with a gentle cloth
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
On himself, his hands and fingers. He loves how both elegant and powerful they can be. He adorns them with regal looking rings. Loves how they can give his partner both pleasure and pain
On a partner I feel like he loves hips. Great place to grab onto to manoeuvre and hold on tight while he’s fucking hard. Also a great place to anchor you as he holds you, running his fingers from the top of the rib cage all the way to the bottom of the hip and squeezing it.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Loves to cum on his partner and will just look at them covered in cum for a bit while his breathing starts to calm down. He becomes almost amazed at how his partner looks
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
I’ve seen heaps of people say how he wants to fuck his partner on his throne but I believe he wants to give oral on his throne. Is usually dominant but the almost taboo of having someone else sit on his throne and he be on his knees is something that always feels new and exciting to him
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He had a small handful of experiences with partners before his wife but mainly just one night stands as a sexy young prince. I believe he got all of his experience and talent from his wife. Big hoe with one person sort of thing
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Doggy style I’d say. Being able to control the pace so much and grab as much of his partner as he’d like. Pulling them up to have them flush against against his chest while he can grab at them too.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Not very goofy. Can be cute and sweet while his partner sits on his lap and he plays with them but never really goofy. Usually pretty serious in the heat of the moment but can switch to sweet and soft quickly.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Very groomed and sparse golden hair
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
It depends. He likes to fuck hard and isn’t usually very romantic in the act but he definitely can be. If his partner needs him in that way he is more than happy to hold them, kiss them and sweet talk them while he makes love.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Not that often. Barely ever if he’s in a relationship and about once or twice a week if he’s not.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Size and Kingly kink.
If it’s a human partner then there’s definitely a size/dominance kink, wanting to be in charge and dominant.
Would use his power and Royal position to push his dominance further. Making his partner call him ‘my king’ and ‘your highness’ really gets him going
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
His throne or his big royal bed. Wants to be left alone with just him and his partner and be able to fuck however he likes.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
When his adrenaline is raised from either training or battle and he’s finding his partner and fucking them hard.
Seeing his partner wearing formal/regal wear makes him want to reck them, ruining their beautifully done hair and pristine outfit.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
No weapons, even a paddle. He never wants to make his partner bleed and he wants to be able to properly control the pain he gives, so hand spanking instead of a paddle every time
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Loves to both give and receive.
When he gives he holds his partner down and craves to overstimulate them with his mouth. His partner will never cum only once if he’s giving them oral.
He prefers to sit instead of laying down when receiving. Either on his throne or a big armchair. Loves to look down onto his partner and stroke their hair and talk dirty. He isn’t opposed to face fucking but prefers his partner take their time so he can tease them while they pleasure him.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Fast and rough when he’s fucking but slow and sensual with oral
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
The version of quickies that he likes is dragging his partner away to somewhere quiet and using his fingers and hands to make them cum before going about his day. Sometimes he likes to see how many times he can quickly make them cum between duties.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Doesn’t really like to take many risks. He is king and while he likes to degrade his partner at times, he does keep his focus on keeping them safe and away from prying eyes.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He will go as many rounds as his partner can take. If he takes a human partner he likes to go until they just pass out from pleasure. Can hold off from cumming for a long time but also doesn’t really have much of a refraction period so he can just keep going and going
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
The only toy he really has are plugs because he likes to bring his partner pleasure himself. Will put the plug in his partner and make them wear it at a fancy event.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Loooovvvveeesss to tease. The teasing is done with light touches and whispered words in public. Drive his partner crazy while he acts so innocent and will never be caught in what he’s doing
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Lots of powerful grunts and looottttsss of dirty talk. He growls pretty loud when he cums but mainly lots of grunts and groans.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
If his partner is more of a casual thing he’d never be submissive but if he’s in a committed relationship with someone he loves to be taken care of in a submissive position. If his partner is AFAB he will want to get pegged and will want to suck and lick their strap.
In a committed relationship he loves his partner to be a soft dom every now and then. Not often, probably like once or twice a year.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
A lot longer then average but pretty average width
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
When not in a relationship it’s about average but in a relationship it goes right up. Wanting to fuck like every second day or something.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Not that quickly at all. Will always wait until his partner falls asleep and is asleep for about 15-20 minutes before he even tries to drift off
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enchantzz · 1 year
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I tried something new. Writing a Middle Earth story about young Fili and Kili and Uncle Thorin. I was inspired by this amazing piece of art by @sugarsu Here is the link to the original post. If you like the artwork, please consider reblogging the original post as well.
In the woods of Ered Luin
Summary: Uncle Thorin is taking care of young Fili and Kili and they visit the woods in the area of Ered Luin, The Blue Mountains. Just a lot of fluff and a somewhat anxious Thorin at times, but we all know the boys, so we can't really blame him 😉
divider created by me
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It was still early, but Fili and Kili had already been running around since their eyes had opened to a beautiful day in Ered Luin. Dis and Thorin were sitting at the kitchen table, quietly drinking their coffee and listening to the chatter and laughter of the boys. Thorin usually didn’t have a lot of time, so he valued these family moments very much.
Thorin had offered to spend the day with his little nephews. His dear sister Dis had gratefully accepted the offer and looked forward to having some time to herself. But as soon as Thorin had offered to take the boys, next to excitement a little pang of fear hit him. What mayhem would he encounter this fine day? Nothing ever did not happen, something always did.
Thorin mustered up his courage and got up to fetch the boys. When he saw a heap of pebbles, blankets, pillows and a cat on top of it, he wondered what had happened in the few minutes he had taken his eyes off of them. Shaking his head, he said, 'Come on boys, get your coats, put on your boots.’
The heap of blankets, pillows, pebbles and cat immediately came apart and two pairs of eyes looked at him questioningly. 'Where are we going uncle Thorin?' they asked. 
“You’ll see. Now come on, get ready,’ he told them.
Not long after, they entered the forest near the Blue Mountains. It was a beautiful day so far, but the big furry clouds in the distance promised some well deserved rain for the plants and wildlife in the forest. The leaves were softly rustling in the breeze, birds were chirping and singing, insects buzzing. The forest was so full of life, yet so peaceful. 
Kili was jumping and running around. There was so much to see. Flowers, plants, little rocks, insects. Thorin smiled. That boy never seemed to run out of energy. Fili was usually much more reserved and quiet. He was walking alongside Thorin, observing the woods, asking him all kinds of questions and Thorin was answering them patiently.
‘What animals will we see today uncle Thorin?’ Fili asked. ‘Will there be moose? And wolves? What about bunnies? Oh look, uncle Thorin, what kind of bird is that?’ his little fingers pointing at a bird with a bright red chest, singing its morning song on one the branches of a big oak tree.
Thorin cringed at the idea of encountering a wolf and the pebbles being in danger, but he didn’t have a lot of time to think about it, for Kili came running up to him. 
‘Look uncle Thorin, look what I have!’ he exclaimed enthusiastically. He was holding something in his tiny hands, careful not to drop it. Thorin crouched down. ‘What have you got there little man?’ 
Kili opened his little hands and a black spider crawled out. ‘You can have it uncle Thorin,’ he said proudly and with a big grin on his face. ‘I fetched it for you.’
Oh dear, how to get himself out of that situation.
‘I think the spider is …,’ he started
‘Ciaran’,  Kili said.
‘What?’ Thorin looked at Kili, confused.
‘It’s name is Ciaran,’ Kili explained.
Thorin raised his eyebrows at that and scratched his beard. Wow, he had only just found the spider and it already had a name as if it were part of the family and needed to be taken up in the Durin family tree.
The new addition to the line of Durin was quickly forgotten though, when a rustle of leaves alerted Thorin and he looked in the direction of the sound. The word ‘wolves’ still fresh in his mind, he grabbed Kili and told him to be quiet. He checked on Fili, who was crouching down beside Thorin, imitating his uncle and all three of them looked in the direction of the moving bushes nearby.
A little spooked by Fili’s question about wolves, Thorin wished that he had brought his sword. He held his breath, but he sighed with relief when a deer and a fawn appeared and not a big bad wolf. 
‘Oh look uncle Thorin,’ Kili pointed at the fawn, ‘A baby deer! Can we go pet it?’ he asked excitedly.
‘No, Kili,’ Thorin said, ‘They are erm … having breakfast. It’s best to leave them be.’ 
Kili sighed disappointedly and Thorin chuckled.
‘Come on boys, let’s go about our way. There is a stream not far from here.’ 
That also got Fili excited and both pebbles ran ahead, their chatter and laughter echoing between the trees. It warmed Thorin 's heart to see them so excited and happy. With a smile on his face, he followed his nephews in the direction of the stream. 
The clouds, which had seemed so far away at the start of their walk, now gathered above them, hiding the sun and making the forest a little darker. Drops of rain started to fall and the calming sound of the raindrops falling on the foliage and the fresh smell of wet earth had a calming effect on Thorin. All anxiety about wolves forgotten. 
He loved the woods, the sounds, the smells. He filled his lungs with a deep breath of fresh air and for a moment closed his eyes and held his face up to the sky, the fresh rain drops gently falling on his face, his beard and his long, dark hair, which was held back with a beautiful handcrafted clip in the form of a raven. 
He stood there, enjoying the moment, but then, at once, snapped back to reality. It had gone quiet. Even though shouting and noise usually didn’t mean anything good when the boys were concerned, neither did absolute silence. He quickened his pace and almost tripped over a boot and another one and another. He followed the trail of boots, picking them up. Apparently, the boys had decided that they no longer needed those. 
He approached the stream and saw Fili crouched down, his blue cape over his head and his chin resting in the palm of his hand.  Kili was perched on his hands and knees on a flat stone in the stream.  They were studying a black bird which was hopping from stone to stone in the stream. The bird paused, sat on a stone and curiously turned its head from side to side, seemingly as curious as the boys. It was altogether a peaceful sight, the dripping sound of the raindrops making little circles in the water, the gently flowing stream, and the boys watching the bird, watching the boys.
Thorin crouched down next to Fili and put his big hand on Fili’s tiny shoulder. So that’s why the little rascals had gone quiet, he thought and smiled.
‘Can we keep him uncle?' Kili asked, breaking the silence. ‘Can we take him home so that we can show him to amad?’
‘No my dear boy, your mother wouldn’t be very happy if you took a bird home. It lives here, in the forest, you know. This is its home.  Everyone and everything has its own place in this world and the woods is where the bird belongs. It would be sad if it had to leave his home. You don’t want it to be sad, do you?’
Thorin heard himself say the words and for a moment sadness hit him. His thoughts went to Erebor, his home, where he belonged and which he had been forced to leave and for which he longed with all his heart. One day, he would return to the Lonely Mountain. He was sure of it.
He didn’t have long to think about it, because a frog hopped out of the water, onto the stone chasing off the bird. 
Kili giggled and reached for the frog. ‘Can we take …’ he started.
‘No, Kili, we can’t take the frog home either,’ Thorin said sternly, but he had a hard time keeping a straight face. Kili seemed to want to take home every animal and insect he encountered. Thorin was sure that Dis wouldn’t appreciate a zoo in her home. 
After a moment, Thorin got up and said, ‘Come on boys, put your boots back on. Let’s go see if amad has something nice to fill your bellies ok? You must be hungry after all these adventures.’ 
With that, the frog was all about forgotten, the boys hurried to put their boots on and off they went with Thorin in tow. Thorin was quietly enjoying the walk back home, while Kili and Fili chased after butterflies, found treasures - read 'stones' - along the way, chased each other and left Thorin wondering if he, Frerin and Dis had ever had the same amount of energy as these two boys. 
The rain had stopped, the sun had broken through the clouds, its rays illuminating the way home and he couldn’t have been more relaxed.
By the time they got home, Thorin was quite proud of himself that so far, the day had passed without any incidents and mayhem under his supervision. He was grateful for the family time, but also, deep down, grateful to be handing them back over to their mother, his dear sister, whom he admired more and more, every time he looked after the boys.  But also deep down, he longed for another day with his nephews, whom he loved as if they were his own sons.
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anemoxlys · 5 months
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Thranduil x Reader Cinderella AU
The fat crush I have on this man (this is the 18th piece of writing I have done for him-
Can you tell I just watched Into the Woods?
Word Count: 2000+
“Please Valar…” You whispered before swinging your legs out of your bed and quickly rushing to put on your clothes, the cold of the morning startling you slightly. It had been a few hours since you’d been up before the rest of your household woke as well, buzzing with a certain energy that they only ever got during ball season. “Oh I simply cannot wait!” Angelica squealed, grasping her hands in Marjorie, her sister’s. “Yes, the prince is bound to choose one of you.” Your stepmother agreed, sitting down at the table before snapping her fingers to gather your attention. “Yes ma’am?” You hastily ask, dashing over to her. “Have our gowns ready for tonight, and remember you must feed the dogs whilst we are out.” She sighed, as if talking to you was this time consuming, wasteful task. “I-I was wondering if I may not join you this ball, ma’am?” You softly murmured, nervousness flowing over you. “You, join us?” Your stepmother cackled, clearly finding the prospect ridiculous, “My dear, if you were to come with us, who would clean the house in our absence?” She continued, patting your head before speaking again, “Now, tighten those corsets. We want to grab the prince’s attention after all.” She commanded. Dutifully, you did so, trying to withhold the tears from slipping down your cheeks.
You watched, silently as your ‘family’ rode away from you, their carriage spreading out of the gates without you. Finally, you let yourself cry, fat, ugly tears slid down your cheeks as you sobbed in the driveway. “My dear, why do you cry?” An unfamiliar voice asked. “Apologies, are you lost ma’am, maybe I can help?” You immediately responded, wiping your cheeks dry. “It seems as though you are the lost one, is there not a ball tonight?” She asked, resting her hand on your shoulder. “Yes, though I am not allowed to attend.” You smiled sadly, “Are you sure I cannot help miss, I have food if you need or water..?” You asked softly. “I shall make you a deal, you get me a loaf of bread and I shall make you go to the ball.” The strange lady offered. “Of course.” You responded, wholly unbelieving her side of the bargain as you hurried inside to get her the food she wanted. 
“Here you go, miss, safe travels.” You smiled, handing over the loaf, alongside some extras that you packed. You moved to turn around only to be stopped, “It seems I have yet to uphold my end of the deal, do turn around dear.” She called, watching as you followed her instructions.             -     
“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.” You whispered, clasping your hands together before the carriage door opened and you were forced to step towards the palace. “Miss?” A man’s voice sounded. “Yes, sir?” You asked, nervousness flowing through you. “May I accompany you inside?” He asked, a pleasant smile on his lips. “Me?” You started before realising how rude you probably sounded, “I mean, yes, if you wish.” You corrected, an embarrassed smile falling across your face. The man standing before you was horribly attractive, long blonde hair framing his face perfectly, a pristine black outfit hugged every muscle flawlessly, and his hands were so unbelievably soft when they gently took yours. “Tell me, what is the name of the most beautiful lady in this kingdom?” He interrupted you from your thoughts with his sweet, deep voice. “I do not know sir, to be honest I do not attend such events regularly enough to have an opinion.” You answered honestly, pure terror now overflowing you as you began to walk up the stairs, eyes falling on you as you did. “You look nervous?” The man beside you asked, concern in his voice as you felt his own eyes settle on you. “Just a bit.” You replied before a nervous laugh spilled out of your lips, “Who am I kidding I’m amazed I haven’t run off yet.” You smiled awkwardly, trying not to clasp his hand too tightly. “Don’t be, you look divine.” He whispered, just loud enough for you to hear. “That means a lot, thank you.” You grinned, some of the anxiety leaving you, “May I ask your name?” You questioned, noting the surprised look on his face, “Apologies, as I said I do not attend social seasons regularly.” You immediately backtracked, your face turning hot. “Not at all, my lady, I was simply taken aback. My name is Thranduil Oropherion.” He answered as your eyes widened. “My prince-” You began before he cut you off, “Do not say anything.” He began, pressing his finger to your lips before realising what he had done and immediately pulling back, “I enjoyed our conversation before. It was… refreshing to not be a soon-to-be king to everyone.” He elaborated, watching as your face grew a small bit less flushed. “Of course.” You murmured, taking in a quick breath as you reached the top of the stairs. “Don’t be nervous, just think that they’re staring at me.” He muttered into your ear before the doors swung open revealing a large gold ballroom, paintings covering the roof. 
“Prince Thranduil Oropherion.” The herald announced as the room grew silent and all looked up the stairwell. “Should I have arrived with you?” You whispered as you looked down at the room full of people all staring as you began to descend the stairs. “Do not worry.” He replied before chuckling slightly, “Probably not though.” He continued as you shot him a horrified glare, causing him to laugh slightly more obviously. “Only now we are expected to dance.” He grinned, leading you towards the centre of the room. “You planned this all along didn’t you, my prince.” You hissed, mentally preparing yourself to step on his feet. “What are you accusing me of, my lady?” He smirked, outstretching his hand for you to take. “I’m not a good dancer.” You admitted, a slight laugh escaping you as his face turned mildly horrified, “I’m not going to leave with broken toes, am I?” He teased. “Quite possibly, your majesty.” You replied with a grin of your own. 
You smiled softly at the memory, sweeping the floors as you recalled last night before you had fled the palace. “Wench!” One of your stepsisters shrieked, most likely calling you to prepare them for the second day of the royal balls. “Coming!” You replied removing your apron before running upstairs. “Corset.” She spat, bracing herself against the bed frame. “Of course.” You muttered, getting to work on pulling at the strings of her corset.
-
“I am glad to see you again, my lady.” You heard the now familiar voice of the prince. “To think, I came through a different entrance and everything.” You joked. “Indeed, one might think you were trying to avoid me.” He half-jested. “Indeed.” You agreed. “Why did you run last night?” He asked, taking a step towards you. You remained silent. “Do I scare you?” He started, this time you interrupting him, “You could never, my lord.” You hastily denied, “You wouldn’t want to be seen with me outside of this palace. Let us enjoy what we have here as it cannot exist anywhere else.” You murmured sorrowfully before walking over to get a drink, leaving the prince by himself. 
-
“That bitch was there again!” You heard Angelica squeal before attempting to hit a high note on a song her and Marjorie were learning with their singing instructor. “I know!” Her sister replied before also attempting the same note. You were amazed your ears were still intact with how loud their screeches were, yet you survived the constant war against your senses. “Y/N!” You heard your stepmother call, breaking you from your thoughts. “Coming ma’am!” You called back, placing the broom against the wall before reluctantly walking to her study. You knocked before hearing the confirmation of you being let in. “What do you need from me, ma’am?” You asked, bowing your head as you shut the door behind you. “The stable boy has fallen ill, clean the stables.” She ordered before dismissing you with a wave of her hand. 
-
“My lady.” You smiled as the prince’s voice came to your ears. “My prince.” You replied with a sad smile, knowing that this was the last time the two of you should meet. “May I finally learn your name?” He asked, taking your hands in his own. “I told you my lord-” You began before he interjected, “May I not know the name of the ellen who has taken my heart?” He pleaded, his eyes practically staring into your soul as he spoke. “I may give you a hint my lord.” You gave in, your own heart beating to the same rhythm. “Anything.” You opened your mouth to speak before noticing the clock as your face grew pale. “I must go!” You hastily muttered. “Please, your name is all I desire!” Thranduil begged, reaching for your wrist. “I am sorry, my prince.” You whispered, tears coming to your eyes as you slipped your glove off of your hand, leaving it in his and fleeing down the stairs. As you did so, your foot caught on one of the stones and you slipped down some of the stairwell- your foot sliding out of your shoe as you did. Glancing back up at the doorway, you saw the prince racing down the steps after you, watching with wide eyes as you quickly slipped off your other shoe and fled, leaving one behind. 
-
“That whore took up the whole ball all three days!” Marjorie sobbed into your stepmother’s shoulder as you swept the fireplace, careful to not spill any ashes onto the carpet. “I know.” Your stepmother comforted before a knock on the door caused her to pause. “Shall I get it stepmother?” You asked as she glared at you. “Of course.” She responded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Right away, ma’am.” You muttered, standing to move to the door, accidentally knocking over some of the cinders. “You stupid girl!” Your stepmother screamed, her hand coming to slap your cheek, “Clean those up, I shall get the door. Stupid child.” She spat, not caring as tears began to slip down your cheeks at the sting of her hit. 
“We really must see every ellen.” An unfamiliar voice spoke as the sounds of footsteps came towards you. “My daughters are all you need to see, our housemaid does not leave the house much.” Your stepmother immediately shut down the idea as you continued to sweep. “No matter Elaron.” A familiar voice reached your ears. You forced your head to stay down, however your sweeping has ceased, the urge to look at his face one more time growing nearly overpowering. 
A loud, piggish, squeal reached your ears as Angelica tried to shove her foot into your shoe. You watched out of the corner of your eye, a small smile on your lips as she was rejected- her sister taking her place as she also tried to shove her hoof into the clearly too small heel. 
“I thought I said to clean that up!” Your stepmother hissed, stalking over to you as you hastily began to clean again. “Sorry, ma’am.” You softly apologised, flinching away from her as she raised her hand up. “There is no need to violence, miss.” Thranduil’s voice once again reached your ears, his voice sounding more hopeful than before as he carefully walked over to you. “What is your name?” He asked, voice full of desire. “I am afraid I cannot tell you, my lord.” You responded softly, a grin falling over your lips as he sharply breathed in. “Elaron!” He quickly called as the sound of more footsteps came. “May I?” He asked, kneeling down before you, shoe outstretched. “Of course.” You answered, finally looking at him. Carefully, he slid the shoe onto your foot, his face erupting in happiness as it slid further onto your foot without resistance. “You have the other?” He asked, “I would hate for my queen to walk with only one shoe.” He continued as you reached into the pocket of your apron- pulling out the second shoe which he carefully slid onto your other foot.
I hope you enjoyed, I know it's not as long as some of my other works but I like the length for this fic (I feel as though if it has been too long it would have been less enjoyable) Let me know your thoughts, and if there are any typos please let me know I do not proof-read...
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The Ménage à trois series
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First one-shot - Pleasurable torment
Pairing: Thranduil x Elrond x Fem. Reader 
Themes: Smut | Soft | Aftercare | Established Poly relationship
Warnings: Kissing | Dom. Sub. Aspects | Overstimulation | Penetrative sex | Orgasm denial | some cock warming | Size kink | Cream Pie | Nicknames | Oral (male receiving) | Dirty talk / Degradation | Dacryphillia | Masturbation (Male) 
Word count: 2k words
Rating: 🔥🔥🔥
Minors DNI | 18+
Want to be tagged? Want to know the rules? Read all here.
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"Come, come, my petal, surely you can take all of me into you."
Thranduil smirked as he lay there, all cocky and arrogant. He smirked even more when you had to grab onto his arms while lowering yourself onto him.
"But she listens so well," Elrond purred while he watched. "Does she not?"
"Indeed," Thranduil looked on wolfishly when you mewled. "Aww," he tsked. "Do you need my help, petal?"
As much as it embarrassed you to do so, you had to admit you needed help. Both Thranduil and Elrond had more size than many, and if you were honest with yourself, you liked it when either one of them, or both of them, took control of your body. "Y-yes," you whined pitifully. "P-please, my lord."
Thranduil growled and narrowed his eyes. He was going to enjoy this immensely. "Distract her," he muttered as he sat up and grabbed onto your hips.
Elrond grinned wickedly as he moved to you, kneeling beside you, cupping your chin, and making you face him. His lips grazed the corners of your mouth, his tongue flicking and probing before moving to your lips, forcing them apart. When you hummed and sighed into his mouth, Elrond groaned and deepened his kiss, to try and distract you from what Thranduil was about to do to you.
And how you felt it—his thick cock pressing deep into your throbbing cunt, his rich and deep moans spilling out while his fingers gripped tightly against your waist. Elrond's kisses muffled your whines, your little whimpers, his free hand snaking down to play with your clit. That jolted you even more, and the fire in your belly grew when his tongue danced against yours. 
Thranduil kept still, letting you adjust to his size. You squirmed when Elrond kept playing with your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You moved, rocking your hips slowly, and then Thranduil grabbed onto them. "Stop," he hissed, digging his fingers into your flesh until you complied. "Do not move, my little petal. Just sit still and keep me warm."
You would have whined had Elrond not opened his mouth over yours again. Thranduil rested against his pillows, content to watch while Elrond had his way with you. 
And how he had his way with you, letting go of your chin so he could hook an arm around your waist, holding you tight as he played with your clit, forcefully this time, his mouth muffling even more of your whimpers. "So obedient," he pulled away to croon. "So pliant. I wonder how pliant you could be." Before you could even think of replying, Elrond sought your lips again, moaning ever so deeply when you sighed and melted against him. 
Thranduil ran his hands up your torso, making them glide over the warm flesh before reaching up to cup your breasts. You shivered when skilled fingers played with your buds, moaning into Elrond's mouth when little jolts of pain mixed with pleasure flashed through your body. Please, you wanted to say. Please finish me.
Only the words never came. So overcome were you by the pleasures that kept washing over you that you seemed to have lost all control of your tongue. You could feel your walls fluttering again, pulsing around Thranduil's cock. You prayed that they would allow you to orgasm this time, and satisfy your release-starved body. Elrond had other ideas, and as soon as he heard your breath reducing to shallow pants, as soon as he felt your body stiffen, he pulled away, joining Thranduil on his side of the bed. 
You panted, your hands splaying against Thranduil's torso as you fought to steady yourself. Your walls still throbbed around his cock, pulling him in deeper and you felt like sobbing a little. The king moaned when he felt it, his own urges finally overcoming him. He could wait no longer. "Ride me, little petal," he ordered, his hands landing firmly on your waist. "Ride your king."
But, before you could start, he had one final order for you. "But you are not to come, yes?" He cooed as you lifted your head and nodded. "Not until we allow you to."
"Yes, my l-lord," you whimpered, bracing yourself as Thranduil let his head fall back into the pillows, his mouth parted in a silent moan.
The pain and pleasure you felt every time his length sank deep into your hole and struck all the right places brought tears to your eyes. Thranduil's hands tightened their grip on your waist, holding onto you, guiding you, and bringing you down harder as his own hips started to slap against the insides of your thighs. You could only throw your head back as you bounced on his cock, your babbles growing more incoherent as they mixed with your moans and pleas.
"Pathetic, little petal," Elrond watched while he pumped his length. He kept his rhythm on a slow, even keel, eager to finish in that pretty little mouth of yours. "Mere moments have passed and already you're begging for his seed. Or is it rather that you want your release?" Elrond tutted and whimpered, his greedy eyes lighting up at the sight of your heaving breasts. "Is that it?"
More tears pooled around your eyes as the sensations you felt grew all too intense. "B-both m-my l-lord," you managed a stuttered answer. "B-both. P-please."
Thranduil forced open his eyes, groaning with delight when he saw your tears. He reared up and forced himself into a seated position, his feet tucked neatly under his calves. "You know you cannot have both at the same time, yes?" He ran his lips over the corners of your eyes, gently lapping at your tears of frustration. Thranduil released his hands and hooked both arms around your waist instead, moaning into your hair when your arms twined around his neck. "You will have to be patient, my pathetic little petal."
You couldn't speak, could barely breathe. Thranduil held you tighter, his cock ramming into you and making you see stars. " 's t-too m-much m-lord," you whined into his shoulder. "It's a-all t-too m-much."
Thranduil merely chuckled when he heard your soft mewls. "Come come, my petal," he cooed into your ear. "Pick up your pace. Let my cock empty itself in that sweet little cunt of yours."
You pulled your head back, your breath getting knocked out of your lungs when Thranduil crushed your lips with his, his tongue licking past your bruised and puffy lips. 
His thrusts grew too intense. His embraces grew too intense. His kisses left you senseless, blind to everything but what he was doing to you. You felt it, his body trembling, his breath growing shallow and ragged with each passing second. You used every ounce of willpower you had not to come all over him right then and there. Elrond continued to pump his cock and watch, his mind growing hazy with thoughts of kissing his way all over your breasts.
And Thranduil didn't last for much longer. Mere moments later, he buried himself to the hilt, balls deep, making you cry out as pleasure mixed with little jolts of pain. He groaned long and deep and throaty as his cock spasmed, spilling its contents inside your throbbing walls. He held onto you while his chest heaved and the last of his seed was spent inside of you.
Only it wasn't over. Not yet. Elrond needed to be satiated, as well as you. Thranduil gently laid you down, saying, "Finish him off, petal," He huffed as he struggled for breath. "I will take care of you while you do so."
Elrond took your hand. "Come my petal," he cooed. "And wrap that pretty mouth of yours along my cock."
You made your way over to Elrond, wrapping a hand around his cock when you reached him. You settled into a rhythm that he liked, your hand tightening and releasing, your spine tingling with his moans, and then, when his muscles tightened, you took him into the warmth of your mouth, taking him as far as you could manage, your tongue licking its way against the underside of his cock.
Elrond's breath grew shallow and laboured as you started to bob your head up and down, your cheeks hallowing, and your moans were muffled when he grabbed onto your hair. He wrapped his hands around your locks, holding them out of the way for you. The warmth of your mouth was so sinful, your tongue so luscious as it flicked against his tip before warming the underside of his length, well, it nearly made him cum inside your mouth right then and there. Thranduil sneaked a hand under your belly, to play with your soaked clit, moaning when his fingers grew slick with both your essence and his.
Your body trembled and trembled when a finger slipped into your hole, piercing you and pumping you. Elrond started to gently thrust his hips while your mouth worked his cock, your moans growing as deep as his when he grabbed onto your hair, gently pushing your face down and making you take him even deeper into you. Thranduil inserted a second finger, curling them and stretching your walls, groaning in satisfaction when he felt your walls clench around them. He kept pumping you, inserting a third finger, hitting that sweet spot of yours, and making you draw in a sharp breath while you worked on Elrond's cock. His breath grew shaky, and he moaned deeply, his cock throbbing against your tongue. He pumped your sweet mouth, thrilling when you somehow managed to make your way down to the base of his cock. When you got that first taste of him, you took him as deeply as you could, not stopping until he moaned your name and you felt his warmth spray over your eager tongue. You swallowed all that he gave you, relishing his deep moans and pants. You pulled away, licking your lips, only to find yourself being pulled onto your back.
Thranduil kept his eyes on you, whispering sweet nothings while his fingers kept slipping into your slick heat. Your eyes crunched shut when Elrond placed his greedy mouth over a breast, fondling the other with his hand while he licked and laved, gently nipping at that soft bud and tugging it between his teeth. It felt so good, to submit to your lovers like this, letting them have their way with your body, take their pleasure from you. And they were so, so good to you in every aspect, never making you want for anything in any way.
"That's it, petal," Thranduil murmured when he felt your walls tighten. "Come for us. You know you want to."
You felt like you were pulled under as the world seemed to stop spinning, as your body felt like it had snapped like a coil while your orgasm ripped through you. You nearly sobbed as your body was finally sated, and you heard deep groans from both ellon when you poured onto Thranduil's hand.
The world went quiet while you struggled to steady your breath. After what seemed like an age, you felt yourself being carried, probably by Thranduil. From the subtle scents, you were almost certain you were being lowered into the bath.
The warm, fragrant water was soothing, as was the sponge that glided over your shoulders. "You did so well, my love," Thranduil crooned as he rubbed your aching shoulders. 
"We're both so proud of you," murmured Elrond, seating himself on the other side of the tub and picking up your feet, so he could rub them. You managed a sleepy smile but your eyes started to droop, and one of them urged you to rest, saying that they would take care of everything. You don't even feel the rest, of being lifted, of a soft towel gliding over your skin. You didn't feel the soft nightgown being put over you, the brush that whooshed gently through your hair, or the strong arms that carried you to bed. Your eyes fluttered open when Elrond ran a thumb over your cheek. Thranduil held you as he always did, his chest to your back, one leg between yours and an arm slung over your waist. You closed your eyes again, thoroughly loved and content. 
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middleearthpixie · 10 days
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Something in the Night ~ Chapter Eleven
Summary: Following the Battle of the Five Armies, a seriously wounded Thorin Oakenshield returns to Erebor to recuperate and eventually ascend the throne as king. With the deaths of Azog the Defiler and his son, Bolg, Thorin no longer has to worry about the bounty the Defiler placed on his head and can instead concentrate on restoring Erebor to its former glory. 
Nina Carren of Esgaroth has one goal—to make Thorin Oakenshield pay for unleashing Smaug the dragon unto her home—where he destroyed the town and killed her family. The Defiler might be gone, but his bounty remains very much in place, and she fully intends to collect on it. 
Finally, the opportunity shows itself for her to do just that, only to have it go horribly awry. Wounded and now at his mercy, neither Nina nor Thorin stopped to think what might happen, should things not go quite according to plan…
Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x ofc Nina Carren
Warnings: Unprotected intercourse, a little teeny bit of angst
Rating: M
Word Count: 4.5k
Khuzdul: kurduwê - my heart
  Abnâmul-beautiful
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Previous chapters can be found here. 
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Nina managed to avoid Thorin for the rest of the day, which actually wasn't all that difficult, as she remained in her chambers and had no idea where he had gone. He might have left, for all she knew. In fact, she almost hoped he had. It would make things easier. 
She saw him at supper, however, and it was with a mixture of relief and apprehension, as more than once, he looked over at her as if he was going to say something, only to turn back instead to Thranduíl or Legolas. Her heart actually felt as if it skipped a beat when he got up and moved to sit beside her. “We plan to leave at dawn’s first light.”
She nodded. “And should I meet you?”
“Only if you wish to travel with us.”
“Do you wish me to travel with you?”
Irritation flashed through his blue eyes. “Why would you ask me that?”
“I think it’s obvious, don't you?”
He glanced across the table at Dwalin, and then toward their hosts before looking back at her. “I apologize for overstepping earlier, Nina. It was foolish of me and right of you to halt things as you did.”
“You needn’t apologize,” she told him. “I overstepped just as much and I thought we were going to pretend it never happened?”
“I just—I sense you’re still angry with me.”
“I wasn’t angry with you at all. You were angry with me.”
He drew in a slow breath. “I wasn't angry with you.”
“So, then it never happened?”
“It never happened.”
“Good.” Although she smiled as if a huge weight had been lifted, the truth was, she felt anything but happy over this turn of events. On the walkway, when he kissed her, it reminded her of all the feelings she’d had that snowy night in Esgaroth, when she first laid eyes upon him. Reminded her of all the feelings that were so wonderful and frustrating at the same time and how she’d wished with everything she had that he would notice her.
And now he had and it was all for naught. She was no longer that same lovestruck girl. Too much had happened since then and now for her to ever be that girl again. 
Which was too bad, really, as she thoroughly enjoyed kissing him and if things hadn’t worked out the way they had…
She could easily fall under his spell, for the King Under the Mountain had no idea how truly desirable he was, and she had the feeling that Mirkwood was not the only thing magical around her. 
“So, I will see you in the morning,” she told him, pushing her chair back. 
“We will wait for you at the eastern gate.”
“Good.” She stood and smiled at Thranduíl. “Thank you for a lovely supper, Your Majesty. If you will excuse me, I think I will go and get what will probably be my last good night’s sleep for some time to come.”
“Of course,” Thranduíl replied. “Good evening.”
She turned and left the dining hall to go back to her chambers. After she and Thorin parted ways that morning, she had gone down to the stream that flowed not far from her chambers and gathered the clothes she wished to wash. Heeding his warnings about enchanted waters, she took great care to pay close attention to her surroundings, but nothing seemed at all amiss to her.
Even so, she’d washed everything as quickly as she could and laid it out on the rocks to allow it to dry and now, her sword at her hip, she went to retrieve everything. Hopefully, it would be dry enough to pack. It had been a clear day, with sun filtering through the treetops, so she thought there was a good chance everything would be just fine. 
Carefully, she picked her way around tree roots, branches, and the typical woodland debris as she made her way to the bank where her trousers and tunics lay spread out on rocks that were still warm.
She’d chosen wisely.
She was just folding her trousers when the sound of a branch snapping gave her pause. Her sword lay at her feet, so she swept it up and rose, saying, “Who goes?”
“I thought I told you to stay away from the streams?”
Her shoulders relaxed as Thorin came around the bend in the path. “You did and this one is fine.”
“Nina.”
“What? The air feels fine here. And besides, I am not your responsibility. I’m certainly of the age where I can decide for myself where to launder my clothes.” She resheathed her blade, then crouched to pluck the shirt she’d laid out from its rock.
“You need to be careful.”
“I am being careful.” She gave up trying to fold anything and just stuffed the mostly dry clothes into her sack. Then she rose, slipping the strap over her shoulder. “Why are you even here?”
“Because I wanted to make certain you made it back to your chambers all right.”
“Back to my… we aren’t in the wild, Thorin.” She pushed around him to march back toward her chambers. 
“We might as well be. I told you, Mirkwood is not always as it seems and dark magic permeates it. I am on cordial terms with the elves here, but they don't know you.”
“The elves have nothing to fear from me, either. And somehow, I think they know that.” She didn't slow down, didn't break her stride as she made her way along the path. “And stop following me.”
“I will. Once you are safe in your chambers.”
“Argh!” She rolled her eyes, and promptly stumbled over an exposed root, but managed to keep her footing and continue on.
At her door, she turned to find him still right behind her. “See? I’m fine. Now, you can just go about your business and I will see you in the morning.”
“Nina,” he reached for her, catching her just above the elbow to halt her, “I know this place and I know what it can do to a body.”
“And I am fine. Nothing reached forth from the water to grab me. No nymphs or balrogs or anything.” She opened her door and stepped over the threshold, setting her sack just inside it, her sword alongside it, and then sighed softly. “I appreciate your concern. But, I’ve made it all this way on my own, remember.”
“I know, but… I cannot help it.” He gestured to her. “May I?”
“Come in.”
He thumped into her chambers, his heavy boots echoing loudly against the wood floor. “I’m not checking up on you because I think you’re incapable of taking care of yourself. Or because I think you are inept. I’ve seen for myself you aren’t. But, I also want to make certain you are safe, Nina. And I’ll not apologize for that.”
“I’m not asking you to apologize for it. But I also don't need you to worry about me. Really, I don’t. I’ve been taking care of myself for quite a bit now, and I’m mostly good at it.”
He arched one brow. “Mostly?”
“Well… every now and then something goes wrong.”
“Such as a to-do at a tavern?”
“Exactly.”
“I know, but…” to her surprise, he closed the space between them and her heartbeat picked up as he reached to catch her face in his hands, “that won’t stop me from wanting to be certain, as I said.”
“Thorin,” her head spun, slowly at first, but as his thumbs swept lightly across her cheeks, the dizziness grew, spreading through her, “I thought we agreed this morning never happened?”
“I know,” he murmured, leaning in until his lips just brushed hers. “Do you truly wish to pretend that, though?”
“I just—” She couldn’t catch her breath as he brushed her lips with his again, the last of her resolve melting away at the gentle caress. No, she didn't want to pretend that at all. Not tonight. Tonight, she wanted to forget everything that led her to this point. None of it mattered. Not one bit. All that mattered was the feel of his hands against her skin, his lips sweeping hers, and the heat that rose from his body to sink into hers.
He pulled back just far enough to offer up a smile laden with promise and whispered, “You just what, Nina?”
She smiled and without thinking, caught the front of his henley in a fist and tugged him back. “Never mind. Just kiss me, dwarf…”
A low rumble of laughter rolled up from him as he did just that, and leaned in to capture her lips in a soft, gentle kiss. It did not remain soft and gentle for long, however, as a slow fire crept into it, the tip of his tongue brushing her closed lips, teasing them into parting before sweeping along hers in silken caress that she reciprocated. Her hands came to rest on his shoulders, as solid as the rest of him, the rise of muscle across them like granite. As the kiss deepened, she slid her hands up along the sides of his neck, into his hair, cool and soft against her fingers. On their own, her fingers twisted into those soft locks, her heart thundering like mad now as he backed her flush against the wall.
It wasn't like anything she’d ever felt before, the solid bulk of a dwarf’s body was so much different from the thinner, more sinewy Men who’d stolen kisses from her before. This was… this was like being engulfed by him, surrounded by a maleness that no Man could ever hope to possess. And when his hips slowly, steadily arched to meet hers, she shivered at the obvious  evidence of his arousal. How could she miss it, when that most definite bulge met her most sensitive cleft and she shivered against him?
His tongue moved slowly, teasingly along hers in a caress that sent her head spinning wildly and her heart pounding out of control. The room around them grew so hot, her breath grew so impossible to catch, and when he broke the kiss to sweep his lips along her chin and down the front of her neck, Nina was powerless to do anything other than let her head thud dully against the wall and let her eyes close as the delicious heat swept through her.
His fingers curled into the hem of her tunic and he swept it up, pulling away to allow her room to lift her arms for him to slip the shirt from her back completely. The air was a warm kiss against her skin, a caress as wanton and wicked as any and when he came flush against her again, the rough weave of his henley scraped sensually against her skin, against her nipples, which beaded from the friction. 
She bit down on her bottom lip as he brushed his lips over her chin. The coarse fur of his beard scratched her, but it only heightened her pleasure as he pressed hot kiss after hot kiss down toward the hollow of her throat, his breath warm and hard against her overheated skin. She clung to him, her hips rocking to meet his, his desire becoming her own as inside her, knots tightened and that heat surged through her. 
He slid one hand up from her hip, along the slope of her waist, and she sucked in a hard breath when it cupped her left breast and his thumb just barely swept over the already tight, aching bead of her nipple. 
Gripping two handfuls of his shirt, she tugged and he obliged, the rough garment sweeping up and off him to fall into the darkness at their feet. Her hands came to rest on his shoulders, his skin hot and firm, the muscle like granite beneath his skin. She ached to touch him, to sweep her lips over any part of him she could, to explore and tease and make him ache for her the way she ached for him.
Because she did ache for him. Her entire body cried out for his, pleaded with her to find some way to make him spirit her to the bed in the corner, where her legs would part of their own and she would welcome him hot and hard and powerful inside her. 
Knots twisted in her belly. Delicious knots of sinful delight that tightened with each sweep of his tongue against hers, with each pass of his roughened thumbs over her oh-so-sensitive nipples. Her arousal came damp and hot between her thighs, and she wanted to peel off her trousers, to wrap her legs about him, and ease that ache in any way she could. 
His lips were hot and damp, his kisses punctuated with teasing flicks of his tongue, playful nips with his teeth as he moved along the curve of her neck, then swept back down along the same path.
He kissed down along the inner curve of her left breast and she whimpered from the fiery pleasure streaking through her. Her eyes were so heavy-lidded, but she forced them open, drinking in the sight of him as he sank to his knees before her while raining a path of teasing kisses along her belly.
He looked up then, his eyes smoked sapphire as he caught the button of her trousers and slid it free. The linen skimmed along her legs, and when he looked up, fire filled his gaze, his eyes blazing sapphire to steal the breath from her lungs. 
“Abnâmul,” he whispered, his voice husky and low as his fingertips just grazed along the backs of her thighs.”
“I—I don't know what that means,” she managed to whisper back. “I don’t speak your tongue.”
A devilish smile played at his lips. “It means you are beautiful.”
Heat flared through her. Heat from his words. From his gaze. From his touch. It was a wonder she didn't melt into a puddle right then, especially when he leaned in and pressed a hot kiss just below her navel. 
For a moment, she thought he might move lower, and she tensed in anticipation.
But then, he kissed her belly above her navel. And higher still. And with each kiss, he rose until he loomed over her once more. 
His mouth found hers again, hot and demanding and she matched his fire with one of her own, winding her arms about his neck, tightening them to pull him flush against her. He offered no resistance, wrapping his arms about her to lift her from her feet. She caught his sigh in her mouth when she teasingly wrapped her legs about his waist and in that moment, he arched into her. She couldn’t hold back her sharp inhale as pleasure zinged through her from the contact and she shivered against him. 
He carefully turned, moving slowly toward her bed, and when he reached it, he bent, pressed her down, and arched once more, this time his breath hitching when she rocked up to meet him firmly. 
Thorin drew back, straightening up and in the soft light, Nina was certain she’d never seen a sight as utterly amazing as the half-naked dwarf standing before her. The light played softly about him, highlighting the swells of muscle across his arms, his shoulders, packed beneath the dark hair spread wide across his chest and down along his belly. He wasn't slim, as Men were, but instead far more compact and solid, as if he could pick up a fully loaded cart, horses and all, and not even break a sweat.
He was beautiful.
And she wanted to see more of him.
She sat up and without thinking, bent to him, pressing her lips against his lower stomach, just above the fastenings of his trousers. His hands came down onto her head, his fingers threading into her hair, tightening on her when she flicked her tongue against him, through that crisp hair, against the warm skin beneath it. 
Her fingers moved nimbly, working open the fastenings, curling about the waistband, shoving down to send the heavy fabric grazing down his thick thighs, over his equally thick calves, to puddle about his ankles. He carefully stepped out of them, kicking them behind him.
Nina gazed up at him, her heart hammering her ribs as she hooked her fingers in his warm linen small clothes. In a heartbeat, she would finally see this man in all his glory and was as anxious as she was terrified at what awaited her.
“What is it?” he murmured, tracing a forefinger along the curve of her cheek. “Have you changed your mind?”
Her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth, which had gone far too dry to allow her to speak, she shook her head, swallowed hard, then whispered, “Have you?”
“I’ve not, no.”
“Neither have I.”
A hint of that devilish smile returned and he reached to cover her hands with his. “Then allow me to help you.”
With that, he stripped off his small clothes and  she smiled as she drew back to drink in the sight of him. 
He was perfect. 
Absolutely perfect.
His big body held very little fat, honed to perfection by whatever it was dwarves did that kept him in such fine form. She let her eyes feast upon him, let her fingers move lightly through the dark hair swirled thickly across his chest, down over his belly, where it joined a far denser patch.
Her mouth went dry at the sight of him, thick and hard and proud and the pit of her belly fell away. He was the first naked man she’d ever seen and somehow, she felt there was not a man alive of any race who would ever top this one magnificent dwarf. 
Swallowing hard, Nina leaned in to press a hot kiss above his navel this time. That dark hair was so soft, tickling her nose and her lips. Thorin let out a low sigh as he pulled back, shifted, and bent to capture her lips once more. As the kiss deepened, he gently pushed her down onto her back and came up over her, his dark hair tumbling over his shoulders to surround them.
He caught one hand, pressing it down into the bed above her head, linking his fingers with hers to offer up a gentle squeeze as he carefully came flush against her and their lips met in a kiss that was more tender than fire, but no less passionate. 
With his free hand, Thorin let his fingertips dance along her skin, the caresses light and teasing, the sensations sweet and sensual as they fluttered through her. Her fingers threaded through his soft hair, twisted and tugged as those fingers swept lower, along her belly, down her thigh.
Into the darkness between them. 
Her legs parted of their own accord and her back bowed as he slid those fingers into the heat between her thighs, into the dark red curls damp with her arousal now.
He caught her gasp as he slid a thick, slow, teasing finger inside her and did something utterly magical. She couldn't hold back her cry as fiery pleasure swept through her, didn’t even try to hold it back. How could she, when it just felt so amazingly good?
Actually, good did not even come close to what Thorin made her feel. Nothing could compare to the white-hot pleasure scorching through her at that moment, the pleasure that made her blood sing and her body hum as he teased and tortured her in the most deliciously sensual way possible. She arched to meet him, his name a breathless whisper on her lips, every fiber in her body tensing with the need for release. She was so close… so very close…
“Thorin!” His name erupted in a cry that she immediately tried to quell by clapping a hand over her mouth. “I didn't mean to be so loud… I hope Dwalin doesn’t come in search of you. He might think we’re doing battled in here.”
“If he comes in search of me, I’ll tell him where to go,” he whispered back with a smile. Then, he did something magical with that finger that made her pulse all around him once more and as he eased it out, he shifted, and then—
He filled her slowly, allowed her to adjust to him, and she bit down on her bottom lip at the sensations running riot through her. She arched to meet him, to accept him completely, as he slid deep, he shivered against her. 
His first thrust was long and silken. His second, even more. His lips found hers, her rhythm found his, and they moved in a slow dance, the pleasure feeding from one to the other as he brought them both back to that summit. 
She tightened about him, throbbing as he arched hard and deep, and her fingernails sank into his shoulders, her hips arcing toward his. Nothing ever felt so wonderful. Nothing would ever feel so wonderful. It simply couldn’t. Each thrust brought forth and new and delectable sensation, a pleasure unlike any she’d ever felt—hot and sweet and wild and amazing. 
Knots of sweet bliss tightened hard inside her, aching with the renewed need for release. She teetered on the edge, her thighs pressed hard against his sides as she will him to send her over the edge. She’d go mad if he didn't shatter those knots and burned for him to do just that.
“Mesmel…” a low string of words she didn't understand bubbled to his lips as his thrusts came faster and harder now. The fingers linked with hers tightened about them. His climax bore down upon him, judging by the power of those thrusts, by the tension winding through him. 
He moaned low in his throat, his thrusts increasing in strength, in depth. The knots began to loosen now as the first sweet, fiery tingles took hold of her, swelling and multiplying as he growled her name and practically tore the linens from the mattress with his free hand, while nearly crushing hers with his other. “Nina!”
Her name exploded from his lips as he thrust hard and deep and came in a powerful shudder that triggered her own climax and left her clinging to him, her fingernails dragging hard across his back as her fingers tensed of their own accord. Her eyes squeezed shut at the explosion of her release, at the white-hot tingles burning through her. She wrapped herself around him, gave herself up to the fire that threatened to swallow her whole. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t hear or speak beyond a breathless cry. All she could do was let that wave wash over her, let it carry her out to sea, and so she did, her surrender complete.
Thorin sank against her, his breathing as rough and ragged as hers and tears stung her eyes as she wrapped her arms about his neck and his head came to rest against her breast. “Oh…” was all she could manage to breathe.
His own breath was a hot blast against her skin. “Oh, indeed…” he managed to whisper back, a hint of laughter woven into his words. 
He lifted his head to regard her with sleepy cobalt eyes, a sharp contrast to the long black hair that fell about them. He said nothing, but bent to capture her lips with his in a soft, lingering kiss that had every bit as much passion woven into it as their lovemaking had, and when he pulled back, he whispered, “Am I crushing you, kurduwê?”
“I’m fine,” she whispered back, reaching up to thread her fingers through his hair, tucking it back behind his right ear. She had no idea what kurduwê meant, but had no energy to ask. The tranquility that settled over them was unlike any she’d ever felt, a complement to the passion that had just raged between them, like the calm after a fierce storm.
Thorin shifted and eased from her, then stretched out alongside her, pulling her into his arms as he sank into the pillows. His breathing had return to normal, though his breath hitched when she curved up against him and laid her hand gently on his chest. She could feel his heart beat, which started out at a race, but slowed to a more relaxed pace and when she let her head come rest against him, she gave in to the peace and let her eyes close. 
The only sound was that of Thorin’s deep, even breathing and occasional snore. Nina lay alongside him, his arm about her shoulders, her head resting against him, but sleep refused to come. 
What had she done? 
What had they done? 
She had not meant for this to happen. It was a terrible idea to sleep with him because now her thoughts were muddier than ever. 
Carefully, she slipped from the bed, easing from beneath his arm, and held her breath as she waited for him to wake and demand to know what she was doing and why she had her sword out.
For she did just that. Crept over to where her sword stood against the wall and slid it from its sheath, then crept back to the bed. It would be over in a moment and she could slip off into the darkness. By the time Dwalin or anyone came looking for Thorin tomorrow, it would be too late and she would be in the wind.
It would be so easy.
Except…
He slept on, peacefully oblivious to her struggle. The silver streaks in his black hair glinted in the pale moonlight that filtered through the treetops, just as the sun did during the day. The long curls spread across the linens. His lips were softly slack. His chest rose and fell with each slow, deep breath.
Her gaze went lower, to the scars on his lower abdomen that she’d seen earlier, but couldn't bring herself to ask him about. She’d heard what happened at Ravenhill between him and Azog, although the pale orc was never called by name at the time. All Esgaroth survivors knew was that Thorin had been wounded in battle at the hands of a great pale orc. She only assumed now that orc was Azog. 
Her hands trembled as she brought the blade up and held it over him. The bounty Azog had offered for Thorin Oakenshield’s head had been a small fortune. Payable in gold. It would have been more than enough to keep her comfortable for a long time. 
This was her plan. This was what she set out to do, to avenge Lenna, and Rhys and Ena. 
One move was all it would take.
He was asleep. He’d never feel a thing.
She tried to make her hands move. Tried to make her arms listen.
She couldn't do it. 
Not any longer.
Shame, hot and steaming burned through her. Tears blurring her vision, she managed to return her sword to its sheath and crawled back into bed alongside him. Forgive me.
She had to tell him the truth. 
24 notes · View notes
snazzynacho · 6 months
Text
Snapdragon & Co.
The Hobbit Fan Fiction/Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!fairy!elf!oc
Masterlist
Chapter Two: Comforts of Home
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Nessa hadn't known much of The Shire or its inhabitants. Though Rogue apparently did as throughout almost the entire journey to The Shire, Rogue had complained about a Hobbit being allowed, no, asked, to join them on the quest. And it hadn't stopped now, even when they arrived in Hobbiton.
"Can we talk about something else now?" Nessa whined.
"What?"
"The whole journey here you've been complaining about a Hobbit joining us."
"Not my problem a Hobbit going on an adventure is unheard of! What is Gandalf thinking?!"
"Gods, you're not even Dwarven yet you're so stubborn."
"I was raised by them though," Stated Rogue.
Nessa sighed. She hated arguing or anything along those lines. "All the more reason we need anybody we can get to help Thorin and his people."
Rogue grunted in frustration, knowing Nessa was talking perfect sense.
After a few moments passed Nessa spoke up.
"So, is he hot?"
"Who?"
"Thorin..."
Rogue came to a stop. They swivelled around to face Nessa, and glared at her, arms crossed.
"I'm just asking the important question here,"
"The important question here is where on Earth are we?!" Rogue held their map, vigorously turning it and inspecting it from different angles. The next couple of hours drained on. Their map reading skills were not up to measure, clearly. Nonetheless, they had finally reached a market in Bag-End. A very busy one.
"Where are we supposed to find Bilbo now?" Nessa spoke her thoughts aloud.
"Bilbo Baggins?" A fellow Hobbit asked, having overheard.
"Yes, we are looking for him. Do you know where he might be?"
"You're in the right place. He's just over there." The Hobbit pointed to another Hobbit before walking off. The Hobbit in question was further away from them. He anxiously stalked the market, stopping shortly at a stall. It seemed he was waiting for someone, as he glanced at the letter in his hand and back up, skimming the crowd.
"Well, that was easy." They said, striding over with a beat in their step, they felt confident in their plan.
Before Rogue could utter a word, Nessa talked first. "Hello, Mr Baggins. It's nice to meet you." She held her hand out for him to shake, who in return, sent them a puzzled look yet shook her hand to be polite. "I'm sorry, but, do I know you?"
"In a way..." Nessa hesitated.
"Right-" He looked down at his letter and the stall of food again.
Seeing he was losing interest, Rogue noticed the letter and smugly spoke, needing to get to the point. "I suggest you stock up, it will be quite the dinner this evening."
Bilbo looked at them quizzically.
"Oh, and here, have this honey!" The pair held out a jar of pink honey. By the time Bilbo accepted the gift, they had run off, leaving a very confused Hobbit. He listened to them though and began to buy a couple of other things, thinking it'll just be them...
_______________
Truth be told Bilbo's home was a small dome-shaped hill with a circular green door, fit for any Hobbit, just as Rogue described to Nessa along the journey. Even in the dark, it looked welcoming.
Nessa and Rogue stood near the front of his house where they told Pilvi to wait for them outside.
"When do you think will be the most inconvenient time for us to show up?" Nessa mischievously asked. "I want to see him livid," She giggled. By now, they'd watched several dwarves enter Bilbo's home, waiting for the right moment.
"Hmm. Just follow my lead,"
Suddenly they heard someone near them. Someone running. "Come on Kili, you can run faster than that!" The person shouted as they ran closer as another, presumed to be Kili, ran behind him.
The two fairies jumped behind a bush, successfully hiding themselves as the two men reached Bilbo's house.
"Not fair, Fili. You started running first." Kili panted.
"Nuh-uh. I'm just fast. I've still got it," He pridefully admired his muscles causing Kili to roll his eyes.
"What was this Hobbit's name anyway? Mr Biggins?" Fili pondered.
"No no, I'm sure it was Mr Boggins, or was it Bimbo?—"
Fili shrugged and proceeded to ring the doorbell. He just wanted nice warm food and a drink of - preferably - ale.
During this, Nessa had been trying ever so hard to stifle her laugh. And it only got worse when Bilbo opened the door, an irritated look on his face remained as it did the previous times this evening a dwarf was at his door.
The pair introduced themselves as: "Fili." "And Kili."
"At your service." They said at once and bowed.
"You must be Mr. Boggins," Kili said.
"No! You can't come in, you've come to the wrong house." Bilbo tried to shut the door but Kili stopped him. "What?! Has it been cancelled?" he asked. The distraught look on Kili's face only entertained the two hiding fairies even more.
"No one told us," Fili added.
"Can-! No, nothing's been cancelled."
"That's a relief."
"Careful with these, I just had them sharpened," Kili said as he handed over a pile of weapons to Bilbo and barged inside with Fili striding behind.
Seeing the flustered expression on Bilbo's face was the last straw for Nessa - she let out a wheeze of a laugh and just before it could turn into a proper belly laugh, Rogue slapped their hand on her mouth, muffling her laughs, and the bush rustled from the movement. To which Bilbo thought he heard something outside but was ultimately distracted by Kili rubbing his boot on his furniture.
"That's my mother's glory box, can you please not do that?!"
They heard Bilbo say as Rogue gestured for Nessa to follow, quickly but quietly leaving their positions behind the bush. The two walked into the house, the door closing behind them.
"Fili, Kili, come on, give us a hand," Dwalin called for them and they followed, not noticing the fairies. If only Bilbo could do that. He turned around and thought he was going to drop the weapons and combust in rage at the sight of them - which didn't help with Nessa's giggling.
Amid their secret entrance, Rogue couldn't resist a theatrical touch. With a flourish of their hand and a raised eyebrow, Rogue delivered their line to a bemused Bilbo, "You might want to hand those weapons to me, Mr Baggins, someone is at the door,"
He staggered backwards but was able to compose himself. "No one is at the door!"
Nessa's giggling persisted, even though her hand was on her mouth. Only further aggravating the poor Hobbit.
"No, look! Someone is ringing the bell right now!"
"NO THERE'S—"
*Ring.*
Their prediction rang true. Rogue smirked at Bilbo's face, seeing him turn red, as he angrily threw the weapons into Rogue's arms and stormed off to answer the door. They swore they could see steam flaring out of his ears for a second.
"How rude," Rogue remarked and Nessa stifled another giggle, impressed by her sister's flair for the dramatic. They revelled in the lightheartedness of the moment, eager for the adventure that lay ahead and the camaraderie they would forge on this grand quest.
After moving aside, Rogue placed the weapons carefully on the floor out of the way, unlike Bilbo. They took a moment to gather their composure, knowing that their true purpose would soon be revealed. The anticipation of the adventure ahead mingled with the amusement of this unexpected start, creating a sense of belonging that hinted at the bonds they would forge on this daring quest to reclaim Erebor.
Peeking around the corner, they saw the door swing open and a bunch of dwarves fall into a heap on the floor, on top of each other, earning another laugh from Nessa. Even Rogue sniggered.
A grey wizard peered into the house behind the dwarves. Gandalf. With no time for Rogue to grab Nessa, dart behind a wall, and pretend they didn't see each other, he and Nessa had already locked eyes, and he sent her a complicated look - a mix of perplexity and suspicion. Nessa felt a flicker of uncertainty. The renowned wizard's sharp eyes seemed to search for hidden truths. However, he turned his attention back to Bilbo and the clumsy mound of dwarves, allowing Nessa and Rogue a moment of relief.
_________________
Whilst all the dwarves were grabbing and snatching different foods from cheeses, bread, meats - and not to mention alcohol - Nessa and Rogue respectfully stood aside marvelling at the chaos unfolding in front of them with nothing but a plate of food and a teacup ale each, classy yet down-to-party, reflecting a sense of poise amidst the merriment.
Sipping wine occasionally, Nessa took pleasure in the jovial disarray of the dwarves ransacking Bilbo's pantry before their eyes. Sometimes, when she could get ahold of food she added it to her plate. The variety of foods showcased the cultural richness of the different lands they were from, a testament to the uniqueness that comprised the company. As they nibbled on their golden toast doused in the pink citrusy honey they gifted Bilbo, Rogue on the other hand had their watchful eye make sure they were always out of Gandalf's line of vision, wanting to be discreet, avoiding him at least until the meeting.
When it came to the song the dwarves began to sing as they cleared the dishes - 'blunt the knives, bend the forks' - Nessa's enthusiastic clapping and Rogue's polite applause blended harmoniously with the dwarves' spirited song, filling the room with a sense of companionship. This all reminded them of the few comforts of home they so missed, one of them more than the other.
Sensing someone new, Rogue urged Nessa to quieten down right as the doorbell rang for the last time that night. A silence replenished the room momentarily.
"He is here," Gandalf declared.
Rogue passed Nessa a glass of wine. "Shit's getting serious?" Nessa joked to her sister.
"I'd say so. Besides, this is the last good wine we'll have in quite some time, we need this."
Nessa nodded and gulped wine, the bitter but sweet flavour lingered on her tongue as she savoured it. Going in for another taste, she nearly choked. A noble, slightly taller looking dwarf with long dark wavy hair, framed perfectly with a couple of white strands, entered. Everything about him - from the dramatic way his arrival was announced, to his demeanour - oozed authority. Even the warm smile he gave the dwarves, she found attractive. He must have been Thorin Oakenshield. King of Durin's Folk. And...
"...The leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield." Gandalf introduced Thorin to Bilbo.
Thorin's smile turned stern when he noticed Nessa and Rogue yet he kept quiet. Instead, he joined everyone at the table. Nessa quickly took off to the kitchen and diligently prepared soup using some leftovers, hoping to extend a gesture of goodwill and earn some favour within the company. When she presented the bowl to Thorin she offered a shy but warm smile, his hesitation was apparent, but hunger won over scepticism.
The two fairies stood behind Kili and Fili, somewhat out of the way. After eating and drinking heartily with his kin, he became serious again and undoubtedly wanted to start a conversation on the quest.
So far, all through the evening, most of the dwarves had given Nessa and Rogue wary looks. They noted that the pair were likely fairies due to Rogue's bright blue hair and Nessa's hair (although a normal dark blonde) also had pinky gold highlights in - yet they did not look entirely Fae-like. At least not of their ideas on what Fairies should look like; Rogue's hair was braided intricately suspiciously in a style reminiscent of Dwarvish craftsmanship, and Nessa's handmade dress on her chubby figure from afar could look like any mismatch of patterns found at markets sewed together. Nothing like fae fashion. And not to mention their heights - they were the same height as the dwarves! Yes, only slightly taller but they also were nowhere near as tall as elves...Last but not least, there were no fairy wings in sight! It was clear that their presence seemed out of place and raised questions about their true identity and intentions, and now, as the discussion to consult the quest approached, the lingering caution and uncertainty among the dwarves remained, leaving Nessa and Rogue acutely aware of the need to prove their worth and establish their role in this company bound for Erebor.
The dwarves all had one question in particular - what were two fairies doing at a, supposedly, private meeting of dwarves to reclaim their homeland?
"Now that you've stopped hiding from me, I'd like to know what your sister is doing here." Gandalf directed at Rogue, as he sensed the ongoing tension towards the two sisters. At this, Nessa side-eyed Rogue, sending her a searching glance for the truth.
Surely Gandalf knew she was tagging along? Nessa had assumed that's why he was there on that fateful day. Evidently, Rogue had taken the initiative to ask her to join the company, yet Gandalf's inquiry brought a different perspective to light.
"Well, I didn't inform you but I did inform the leader of this company," Rogue voiced nonchalantly.
The revelation of Rogue's secret communication with Thorin left the company in an uproar. Clamorous objections rose from the group. The dwarves exchanged incredulous glances, their trust in Thorin momentarily shaken. In the midst of the confusion, Nessa and Rogue found themselves at the centre of a storm they had unintentionally ignited. Amongst the commotion, questions upon questions flew at Thorin.
"Is this true Thorin?"
"How long have you kept this from us?!"
Rogue saw Thorin's face contorted in disbelief at their statement and said, "Yes, I have. The letter is in your front left pocket."
The room became silent. They watched Thorin reach into his pocket and pull out a letter. Gasps and murmurs of shock from the company broke the stillness. Thorin dramatically held the letter in front of him, as if it was the most precious thing in the world. Gandalf immediately snatched it. He ever so carefully unfolded it, and read it. All that was printed on it were stamps that represented Rogue, their sister and their pets. He glared at Nessa and Rogue, slamming the letter on the table, with an exasperated huff. "Fairies and their mischief,"
Gandalf's remark hung heavily in the air, an indication of the distinctive circumstances surrounding Nessa and Rogue's inclusion in the quest. They exchanged a glance, realising that their path forward would be even more challenging than they had anticipated, as they needed to overcome not only their own doubts but the mistrust of Thorin's company as well.
"I've personally looked that letter over from front to back and not found a single word," Balin spoke. "How on Earth could it have addressed your arrival?" Balin thought back to when Thorin first received the letter. Thorin had angrily rushed around the entire place, asking anyone and everyone if they had sent the alleged indecipherable letter to him. If it was some sort of trick. They had even hunched over the letter, inspected it using a magnifying glass, and were still met with the same four vertically placed stamps.
Rogue grabbed the letter back and showed the group. In order, they explained that each stamp in a fairy letter symbolised someone or something. They began with the first stamp - a hand holding a rose representing Pilvi, Nessa's pet. Then the second beneath it - the cat: Pip, Rogue's cat. Then at the bottom, the butterfly: Nessa and the Rose: Rogue.
With the company's reluctant understanding and acceptance, a tentative sense of unity began to form within the group.
At this, Bilbo retrieved his letter and gave it a look over again, realising the letter he also received was from the two fairies as well. Now recognising the stamps with meaning, as illustrated.
Moving on to the more important part of the evening, they finally started to discuss the quest. Balin began by asking if the dwarves of the Iron Hill would be joining - which turned out to be no - "They will not come. They say this quest is ours, and ours alone."
"You're doing a quest?" Asked Bilbo and Rogue had to use all their willpower not to face-palm, or worse, smack him.
"Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light. Far to the East, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak." Gandalf restated, spreading a map on the table for all to see.
"The Lonely Mountain."
"Aye, Oin has read the portents, and the portents say: it is time," Gloin expressed and Oin elaborated with, "Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold. When the birds of the old return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end." At the mention of birds, Nessa pondered to herself if Pilvi was doing alright outside, in the dark, alone, but was interrupted by Bilbo, bringing her attention back to the real problem at stake: "Uh...what beast?"
"Well, that would be a reference to Smaug the terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals." Bofur clarified.
"Yes, I know what a dragon is."
Ah. A dragon...Nessa hadn't really thought about who they had to fight. Too late to back out now.
Ori who was especially eager stood up and announced: "I'm not afraid, I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of the dwarfish iron right up his jacksy!" Rogue face-palmed for real this time while Nessa giggled.
"Good lad, Ori!"
"Sit down!" Dori grabbed his brother, reminding the two sisters of each other.
"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us, but we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best, nor brightest," Balin said, feeling defeated already.
"Hey! Who are you calling dim?"
"Sorry, what did he say?"
Fili then spoke proudly, reassuring his kin. "We may be few in number. But we're fighters, all of us! To the last dwarf!"
"And you forget we have a wizard in our company, Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time." Kili looked over at Gandalf expectantly.
"Oh, well. No, uh, I...I wouldn't say..." Gandalf spluttered over his words.
"How many then?"
"What?"
"Well, how many dragons have you killed? Go on, give us a number!" Dori insisted. The room quietened, waiting for what they hoped to be an impressive answer from Gandalf.
However, an embarrassed Gandalf started to cough on his pipe smoke making the dwarves groan and shout at one another, feeling hopeless.
Thorin abruptly rose to his feet. "Enough!" He roared. The dwarves sat back down. "If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumours have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look East to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?"
Thorin was right. Rogue had heard all about this for years, and now more than ever, in recent months. Inspired by the speech, the dwarves jumped and cheered. His words struck a nerve with Nessa, who had always wondered if she should return to the abandoned fairyland.
Balin stood and raised his voice. "You forget the front gate is sealed! There is no way into the mountain."
"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." With a twiddle of his fingers, Gandalf produced a Dwarvish key, ornately wrought.
Thorin's eyes lit up and he looked at it in wonder. "How came you by this?" He questioned curiously.
"It was given to me by your father, by Thrain, for safekeeping. It is yours now." Gandalf handed the key to Thorin, who held it in awe. Everyone looked on in proud astonishment. Including Nessa and Rogue.
"If there's a key, there must be a door!" Fili exclaimed excitedly.
"Very astute observation," Rogue whispered sarcastically to her sister. Rogue's sarcasm had hit the mark, and Nessa burst out laughing, but in the midst of their serious discussion about the quest, Nessa's laughter seemed like an outburst at an inappropriate time. A few sent scrutinized glances her way and she quickly realised how it might be perceived and made an effort to regain her composure, all while attempting to convey that her amusement was unrelated to the quest itself.
Fili's observation, though met with humour, was indeed astute, and the company continued to brainstorm and plan their next steps, eager to unlock the way into Erebor. "These ruins speak of a hidden passage to the Lower Halls." The wizard pointed to runes on the map, ignoring the 'fairies and their mischief.'
"There's another way in," Kili noted.
"Well, if we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map...and I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in Middle-Earth who can." Everyone looked at him, listening carefully. "The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. But, if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done."
"That's why we need a burglar," Ori stated.
"A good one too. An expert, I'd imagine." Bilbo added.
"And are you?" Gloin asked.
Bilbo froze, half confused, half afraid. "Am I what?"
"He said he's an expert! Hey!" Gloin cried out, optimistically, and the other dwarves cheerfully joined in. Rogue snorted...Bilbo didn't even know he was to be part of this journey beforehand and they had to travel all this way to Hobbiton for him...Just for him to mess up this badly...
Bilbo's face however was livid with shock causing the fairies to laugh again. "Me? No, no, no, I'm not a burglar. I've never stolen a thing in my life."
"I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He's hardly burglar material." Balin conversed.
"Aye, the wild is no place for gentlefolk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves." Dwalin agreed.
Bilbo nodded in desperate agreement, ignoring the insult. Nonetheless, Gandalf shook his head, irritated. He stood tall, imposing the dwarves who looked on in shock. "Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then he is. Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet! In fact, they can go unseen by most if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of a Hobbit is all but unknown to him which gives us a distinct advantage."
Gandalf turned to Thorin, determined to make his point. "You asked me to find another member of this company and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest, and he's got a great deal to offer than any of you know, including himself. You must trust me on this."
Thorin sighed and for a moment scanned the room, weighing the outcome. "What about those two?" He nodded over at Nessa and Rogue, all eyes on them.
Nessa waved slightly but Rogue smacked her hand. "As for them, well, Rogue is remarkably agile and has a talent in magic - fae magic in particular - and that I do know to be very rare these days, so we are lucky to have them on this quest. Their sister, Nessa, on the other hand-" he wavered to continue so Rogue cut in. "-Is exceptionally talented with her axe," - Rogue grabbed at the pink axe that was attached to Nessa's belt at the back that just peered over the top of her head and showed the company - "and, I assure you, she is not afraid to use it."
"We are descendants of the Fallen Fae and I know what it is like to lose your home, so please, we would like to contribute to this quest." Nessa pleaded.
Thorin regarded Nessa with a newfound understanding, her words resonating with the struggles and losses he had faced as a leader seeking to reclaim his homeland. Growing up, Thorin had heard of the Fallen Fae, of their tragedy. From this moment forward he promised himself he would hold the sisters in high regard. If they could prove their worth, that is.
"Very well. Your dedication to the cause is duly noted. We shall need all the skills we can muster." He settled. "Give them our contract."
A sense of relief washed over them. Nessa's heart soared with gratitude, and Rogue offered a respectful nod.
Balin handed a scrolled contract to Bilbo to which Thorin grabbed and shoved it at him, who unrolled the scroll, which nearly reached the floor. Balin began explaining that the contract was a summary of out-of-pocket expenses, including... "Funeral arrangements?" Bilbo queried after looking at the contract reluctantly.
Bilbo, now intensely reading it, was growing more and more distressed with each new word he spoke, "...Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof, including, but not limited to - lacerations? Evisceration? Incineration?"
"Oh, aye, he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye." Bofur teased.
A white sheet of paleness covered his complexion. Bilbo seemed breathless and unwell. His grip on the contract tightened nervously, needing something to hold onto, as he grabbed a hand to his chest.
"You alright, laddie?" Balin asked, worriedly glancing at Bilbo.
"Huh? Yeah, I feel...I feel a bit faint."
"Think furnace, with wings," Bofur egged on.
"I...I...I need air."
"Flash of light, searing pain, then poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ash!" Bofur continued, much to the situation. The vivid descriptions of potential injuries were enough to make anyone apprehensive, and the jests from the dwarves only exacerbated his anxiety. So much so that he managed to let out a pained "No-" before fainting, falling to the floor.
"Oh, very helpful, Bofur." Gandalf sarcastically said.
Rogue walked up to the unconscious Bilbo and poked him with their boot. When they confirmed he was out like a light they pried the contract from his grip. Nessa brought out two large stamps for them each from her bag. They skipped to the last page where the spaces for their signatures were and raised their stamps to print. Having not realised how loud the stamps would be when they collided with the paper with an audible thump, everyone jumped. Additional disapproved glances were sent their way though the dwarves tried to trust their leader, Thorin's, decision to accept them.
"Not going to read the terms and conditions?" Fili asked them.
"I mean, Bilbo here just read it for us before he...fainted...but It's not like we have anything to lose."
Rogue said indifferently when a ginger kitten poked his head out of their pocket and meowed softly. "Isn't that right, Pip?"
Excitement grew amongst the company with the upcoming quest ready to commence and now with the added addition of a cat, the companionship was prospering already. The tiny feline seemed to captivate the attention of the dwarves, melting hearts and creating a brief respite from the otherwise serious discussion.
Thorin of course wanted to send scrutiny, though he couldn't help but crack a smile at his happy kin, welcoming and recognising that bonds were forming that would be crucial on their journey to reclaim Erebor.
_______________________
Thorin stood by the fireplace, pipe smoke in hand. The golden glow from the fire lit up his face revealing the stoic expression that was still present as he was in deep thought. The crackling fire was unexpectedly interrupted as he began singing.
Far over the misty mountains cold.
One by one each dwarves began joining in, following Thorin's lead.
To dungeons deep and caverns old.
We must away, ere break of day.
To find our long-forgotten gold...
Their deep voices hummed and gently sang heartfelt and deeply meaningful lyrics together, harmonising perfectly. Their pain and sorrow filled the now atmospheric room, and Nessa, who stood to the side solemnly with her sister, wiped a tear away from her cheek she didn't know was there. This hit close to home. She understood their pain. Their burdens. Their losses. She knew what it was like having no home. Forgotten gold for her was her heritage which, over the years, had been slipping away from her. If only they could truly see that. See they cared. She hoped to prove this. They did have a whole quest to fulfil together after all.
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Thanks for reading! Please reblog if you liked it :)
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fantasyinallforms · 10 months
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Oh my stars, please look at this amazing piece I commissioned from the always and ever amazing @tava-art for my Modern AU fic What You Do To Me, which is part of my Happy Accidents Universe!
I can't get enough of it! It's perfect in every way!
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teitho · 4 months
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WE ARE BACK!
We are very excited to be back with a new Teitho challenge for December/January!
Our challenge this time is SNOW.
Where will you take us with this prompt? Mountain peaks or cruel Caradhras? The frozen terrain of the Helcaraxë?
Or perhaps the snowy fields of Rohan. A blizzard in the Shire. Winter at the Havens.
Bundled up inside or braving the elements? A gentle fall of snow or a winter storm? Or perhaps snowed in?
It’s all up to you and we can’t wait see what you have for us this time!
Please submit your stories before January 31, 2024, to [email protected].
Happy Writing!
lotrfan and Sian22
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roadtogracelandx45 · 1 year
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Second Chances|1| LOTR and Hobbit FF
I was supposed to have this up on Sunday but everything caught up to me.
masterlist will come later,
One 
“Princess, please stop pouting.” Roan, Princess Ilianna’s long-time guardian, sighed from the doorway of Ilianna’s bedroom. The princess was sitting on the low sitting stool that sat in front of the half-empty vanity table, hand maidens were gathering her belongings and putting them into the trunks that littered the room. “I am not pouting.” Anna finally said turning to look at her, she had been pouting and she had been since she had found out that the upcoming wedding between her and the youngest prince of the Woodland realm, Mirkwood, Legolas had pushed forward. 
 Anna thought that it wasn't fair that she couldn’t choose the person that she wanted to marry. Every other elf in their kingdom had the choice of who they married, elf, man. It didn’t matter they had that choice.
 “Yes, you are.” The protector said as she came into the room, her eyes flicking first to the open windows and to the maids packing Anna’s belongings up and then finally to the princess. “This is your duty to your family and not love.” 
Anger burned in Anna’s blue eyes as she stood up, bitter words biting at the tip of her tongue. What did Roan know about love? She had been long married to another one of the protectors,  Eion, and from what the princess saw there was no love lost between the two. They just coexisted without any problems.  
“That goes with me.’ Anna sharply said, turning towards the maid who had her leather-bound diary in her hands.  “Yes, your highness.”  The girl returned meekly, thankful that Anna hadn’t flown into a rage like she had when she first found out that she was leaving home. It had taken them days to clean up the wreckage even with the princess trying to help them clean up.
 “You may like Mirkwood,” Eion commented from the entryway of the room, he had finally left the long meeting detailing how they were to get Anna from their kingdom first to Rivendell and then to Mirkwood. 
“I have heard of Mirkwood Eion.” She returned as she slipped the diary into the bag that she was carrying with her,  “It's not the Mirkwood of old. There are spiders in those woods.” Either protector missed how she trembled at the mention of spiders. Since a young age, Anna had a fear of spiders and it carried with her to adulthood.  “And I have heard stories of Thranduil.” 
“Did your sisters tell you these stories?” Anna, like Legolas, was the youngest sibling in a herd of siblings and several of her older sisters had written to her telling her of the stories they had of Mirkwood, Thranduil, and of Legolas and it had made her fear so much worse. 
 “So what if they did?” She returned, “At least they were honest with me about it, you know Thranduil was the one that didn’t go to the side of the dwarves of Erebor?”
 “Did you spend time in the restricted area of the library again?” Roan sighed, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose, they had warned her over and over again that she wasn’t allowed in that part of it. 
“No.” Anna lied, “my sisters told me about it.” 
 “It shouldn’t surprise you, Roan, Anna never follows the rules.” Eion said, “And the library staff has never said no to her before.” The word no had never been a part of Anna’s life.  As a princess, she got away with most of the things that she did, only getting punishment from Roan and Eion though it was rare.  
“I wouldn’t expect it to change now.”  Anna rolled her eyes, “I do follow them sometimes. And what’s wrong with knowing the truth about what happened and the history of where I am going to be?”  “There’s nothing wrong with it Princess.” Roan started, “but.” 
‘But you know your father’s rules.” 
“He can take  those rules.”
 “Annie!” A laugh came from the doorway, and her elder brother and heir to the throne,  Illarion, followed. “What? I am just telling the truth.”  She shrugged a smile playing on her lips.  “And look where that got our dear sweet sister. It got her head taken off.” 
She mimicked the sword swinging down and Roan paled, she and Eion hated that Anna had to be there to see it.  But her father insisted that she attend so she knows what happens when a child misbehaves. Anna had nightmares of the execution almost every night, Roan wasn’t sure if they carried on after a few months because she stopped talking about them.  “I have got some good news for you.” “I don’t have to go?” She asked hopefully. “No you still have to go but I am going with you to Rivendell.”
 The hope seemed to melt off of her face and her shoulders  slumped down, ‘He isn’t allowing you to go with me to Mirkwood?” 
Illarion shook his head, “you will be very well protected going from Rivendell to Mirkwood, you will have your guards, and Legolas and his own company are going to meet you there.” “Why do I have to do this? Why not any of the other sisters?’ 
“I don’t know.” He fibbed crossing the room to sit next to her on the chest that sat at the end of her bed.  He knew the truth but saying it out loud would crush her and it would change her into someone that she wasn’t supposed to be.  Throwing her hands up in defeat, Anna nodded her head in agreement. 
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