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linasofia · 1 year

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A Shooting Star

Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l Part 4 l Part 5 l Part 6 l Part 7

Fandom: The Hobbit

Relationship: Thorin Oakenshield x OC Vega

Summary: Lady Vega loves to sneak out to Erebor’s rampart to study the night sky, but one night, an unexpected visitor joins her. It is the beginning of a story whose end only the stars can tell.

Warnings: none

Special thanks to @lathalea & @legolasbadass for all your support and feedback. 💙⭐️

A small gush of wind met Vega, daughter of Vimar, as she climbed the many stairs to the rampart. Since she left her lantern by the wall, her only guidance was the moon. Thankfully, it was a clear night, and the pale light coming from the grand silver coin in the sky was enough to illuminate her path. As she silently entered the rampart, she felt the usual excitement tingling in her body. She knew she was not allowed to be there, but it was the best place for stargazing, if she did not count the mountain slope outside the gate, and it was worth the risk of being discovered. Without making a sound, she hurried to her secret spot, hidden behind a large block of stone—remains from a battle long before she came to live under the Mountain.

Vega rested her back against the rough wall and took out her book from the pocket in her skirt. She was grateful for choosing her warm stockings of finest mountain goat wool; the wind on the rampart was colder than she had expected. Her long winter shawl covered her upper body, and she pulled it tighter. She should have taken the heavy cloak instead, but it was too late to go back now. Besides, she had endured worse weather on the rampart. Vega opened the book carefully, found the most recent of her notes and peered up. Her trained eye easily located the stars of her people’s most important constellation; the magnificent Durin’s Crown. Every year, when a feast was held to celebrate Durin’s Day, the constellation could be seen right above the Mountain. Now, however, when the days were much shorter, it was set far to the west. She smiled. A handful more full moons, and then she would close the circle and be back at the first page in her notebook. She had stood on the rampart many nights and studied the constellations' quiet movements over the sky. It was a fascinating hobby, but not completely without danger. The rampart was high, and the darkness could be compact, at least when the new moon resembled a curved, thin chain of mithril. In addition, there was obviously always the risk of being discovered. Vega preferred not to tell anyone about her own private escapades. Especially not her father. In his eyes, she was still a young girl with little or no understanding of what was considered dangerous. The fact that she followed in her mother’s footsteps and refused to marry any of the lords she was presented to, out of duty, only fueled the old man's conviction that she did not understand what was best for her. Her mother, on the other hand, supported her strong will and constantly defended her daughter’s decision in public.

Vega grew up in the Blue Mountains, and as the daughter of a trusted construction advisor to the king, she lived what many would describe as a relatively comfortable life. Their home was always filled with her father’s construction drawings, books, and strange tools. During her first years, her father would not let her near his precious drawings, but as she grew older, he opened up another world to her, where the symbols, numbers and lines started to make sense. Vega believed it was her father’s work that laid the foundation for her interest in trying to understand things written or drawn by others long before her time. When she found an old map, she instantly tried to visualize the places, and eventually, she started to dream about adventures far beyond her people’s borders.

After King Thorin and his company had reclaimed Erebor, it did not take long before a messenger with the king’s summons reached the Blue Mountains. Vega’s father quickly answered the call and packed his most important belongings. Then, less than a year later, he arranged for his wife and daughter to make the same journey. She still remembered the excitement she felt as a young woman when their caravan set out toward their new home. Vega had heard many old tales about the great treasures of the Lonely Mountain, but also songs of unspeakable grief. She could not wait to see the great halls with her own eyes, and her mother repeatedly assured her it would be worth the long absence of her father. He had an important role to take on as the King of Carven Stone had returned to the Mountain. That was now many years ago, and Vega had grown, both in body and mind, since then.

Suddenly, the sound of heavy boots reached her ears. She drew nearer to the large stone and hid in its shadow. Her heart was banging in her chest, and her throat tightened, making it hard to breathe, as if she was deep down in the dusty coal mine under the Blue Mountains—a place restricted to the strongest miners among her people. Was this the night she finally was to be discovered? A tall shadow appeared on the stone floor in front of her, but she could not see the dwarf for the massive block of granite. She waited, desperately trying not to make any sound, as the shadow slowly moved closer. Then a broad figure walked right by her and stopped only a few arm’s lengths away. The pale light of the moon fell upon the male, and it made the rich fur on his cloak shimmer. It reminded her of a tale she once heard; about a rare fox who changes color—from almost black to white—when the first snow falls. From behind, the cloak in front of her looked vaguely familiar. In the darkness, all things appear to be grey, but Vega instinctively knew she had seen that cloak before. Admired it, even. The man searched his pockets and pulled out a long, thin item. A small flash of light tore the darkness apart, and when he turned his face to shield his pipe from the wind as he lit it, Vega stared—horrified—at the dwarf’s regal profile. The tobacco glowed as he inhaled loudly, and then a thin cloud of white smoke seeped from his nostrils. The dark, pleased hum that followed made something stir in her lower body, and Vega let out an involuntary gasp. The king instantly turned his head towards the dark corner, and her heart almost stopped. With a hand over her mouth, she held her breath.

“Who’s there? Step out of the shadow!” the king demanded, his voice raised, but not to its full capacity.

Vega took a deep breath and forced her feet to obey. When she stepped out from her hiding place, the moon appeared to be brighter, and she gracefully curtsied as the ruler of Erebor’s piercing stare met hers. The look on his face shifted from annoyance to surprise.

“Good evening, My King.”

“My Lady, I did not expect to meet anyone here. What in Mahal’s name brings you to this dark place?”

Vega hid her book behind her back. “I’m simply looking at the view.” She tried to control the tremble in her voice, but the rush of adrenaline made it impossible.

“The view?” The king looked over the edge of the rampart. He could see lights from the city of Dale, but other than that, the night offered nothing spectacular.

“Surely you must struggle to see anything interesting at all.”

Vega gazed up with a broad smile. “Not that view. This!” She pointed above their heads, where countless stars silently stared back at them.

Silence fell heavily between them. Thorin smoked his pipe while searching his memory for constellations he learned long ago, when he was a much younger dwarf. He could only remember a few of them. Back then, Frerin was much more interested in these stars and always waited patiently for his older brother to locate Durin’s Crown. Thorin’s heart ached at the memory. His brother’s death had removed the joy from so many activities, stargazing was only one of them.

He glanced at the lady standing beside him, her chin lifted and her eyes fixed on the sky. She seemed lost in her thoughts, and the smile still lingered on her lips. Her dark hair was braided in a beautiful pattern—the style popular among the women from the Blue Mountains—and then he spotted a bead with her family's name. He smiled. When he first saw her, he was unsure who she was, but as he looked closer, he could clearly see the resemblance. She was truly her father’s daughter, but beautiful and with a disarming smile.

”Is Lord Vimar aware of your late visit to the rampart?” He could hear her surprised gulp, and she quickly turned her focus on him instead. She had not realized he recognized her, and Thorin met her startled gaze with a calm smile. ”Do not worry, My Lady, your secret is safe with me.”

”Thank you, My King.” She smiled back, a sweet and slightly mischievous smile. ”No, my father would probably lock the door to my chamber if he ever found out what I was doing during the nights.”

”Nights? Are you telling me that I could have had the pleasure of meeting you here on other nights previous to this one?”

Vega wanted to smack herself. Why did her mouth speak too much as soon as the king rested his captivating azure gaze on her?

”I…” she did not know how to continue. How could she explain the thrill and the longing to do something forbidden? What it felt like to slip out in the cover of darkness and just be alone with her dreams and imagination. ”I’m afraid that is the truth,” she then admitted.

”Did you bring a book to read in the dark as well? Your eyes must be much better than mine.” The king sounded almost amused when he spotted the leather-bound piece in her hand, and Vega instantly pressed it against her chest.

”It contains only a few hasty notes I made for myself to read, together with drawings of constellations I have seen. It is nothing of importance.” Vega tried to gain control of her own words; she always spoke too much when she was nervous.

”Would you allow me to see it? I am certain your handwriting is neat and a pleasure to read.”

Her heart hammered again, just as it did when she was hiding, but this time it was not from fear. Was the King of the Longbeards really interested in the stars, or was he only being polite? She searched his face for the truth but found only honesty in his eyes. For a short while, she allowed herself to admire his prominent nose and full beard before she remembered she had no right to gaze upon her king like that.

”My King,” she hesitated, but was tempted to share her findings, if only to make him stay a little longer. Never before had she spoken to someone with such powerful charisma, and he made her very curious. ”It is nothing like the maps in the Royal Library of Erebor,” she then heard herself say. ”But I will be honored to show it to you.” Her hands trembled slightly as she opened the book, but when she tried to offer it to him, he took a step closer.

”Please, My Lady, explain it to me.”

Vega had to take a few deep breaths before she mustered enough calmness to explain her notes. When she spoke, the king listened intently, but every time he pointed at one of her drawings of Durin’s Crown, she couldn’t stop herself from staring at the heavy rings adorning his thick fingers. He had the hands of a warrior—large and calloused—but something in the way he let his fingertips glide over her stained papers told her those hands could do more than just harm.

The notes were indeed created for her eyes only, but after the initial insecurity, Vega found herself growing bolder in the king’s presence. As he leaned a little closer to her, no doubt to see better, a faint hint of pine and leather caught her senses, and it made her head spin, just like the strong tobacco she once was persuaded to try. She promised herself after that single time, to never smoke anything equally strong again. But she wouldn’t mind feeling this type of warm dizziness again. Then Vega shook her head to clear her mind. Who knew the alluring scent of the mightiest of all dwarves alive could evoke such delusional ideas.

”Considering all constellations, which one do you find most mesmerizing?” His question came unexpectedly, spoken in a much lower voice than before. It felt very personal, and Vega shivered. She knew what he probably was expecting from her, but eventually, she decided to answer honestly.

”Of all the constellations and the tales told, I must say I have two favorites, next to Durin’s Crown, of course.” She smiled warmly when a thick black eyebrow rose in surprise. ”The first one is The Hammer.” Vega pointed to the east, where nine stars proudly formed a large hammer.

Thorin nodded, remembering the constellation from Frerin’s rare attempts to actually teach him something useful. He was not sure about the tale; Frerin sometimes changed the story, only so he later could claim that Thorin remembered it wrong.

”And the second?” he asked, gently holding the unusual emerald gaze of the lady beside him. Thorin found her truly fascinating, and the way her voice enchanted him, as she spoke passionately about the stars, made him wish she was a member of his council instead of her elderly father. The endless discussions would be much more bearable if she was.

”The second one cannot be seen now. You will have to wait until spring before you can spot Raven’s Nest in the east.”

”Is it easy to find?”

”If you know what to look for, I supposeit’s easy. It’s one of the smallest constellations I know of, but I love the tale.”

Thorin smiled. He wanted to question her about the tale, just so she would keep talking, but he realized he could not ask her to stay on the rampart all night. The icy wind was growing in strength and the hour was late. He had gone to the rampart for the possibility of clearing his mind after a long evening session with the council. Instead, he had stumbled right onto Lord Vimar’s daughter’s secret stargazing spot. He had completely forgotten his manners and did not introduce himself properly. And what was even worse—he had no name on the lady in question.

”My Lady, even if your father sometimes speaks of his family, I do not think I have ever heard your name. May I ask for it?” His words were soft, and less formal than their initial conversation.

Vega stared at the king. Had he just showed interest in knowing her name? She could not understand why, but she had no intention of denying her king. The unexpected warmth in his eyes made her weak. His raven hair rested against the fur of his cloak but as he turned his head, the wind caught strands of it and blew life into the dark locks. She briefly wondered if his hair was as soft as it looked.

”Vega,” she almost whispered, her voice suddenly failing her as a result of her improper thought.

”Lady Vega, you have been most kind and shared your private notes. I thank you for that. But I’m afraid I need to ask you to return to the warmth of your chamber, before you get too cold.”

”Of course.” She averted her gaze, afraid he would see the disappointment in her eyes. The most exciting moment in a very long time would soon be over, and Vega pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. She could do nothing to stretch their chance meeting further.

”I bid you a good night then.” He gave her a short nod.

”Good night,” she echoed as she made a poor attempt to curtsy. Her knees wouldn’t cooperate. Thankfully, King Thorin didn’t seem to notice, or care. All he did was grace her with another warm smile.

”And Lady Vega, do not hide in the shadows next time. I might mistake you for an intruder.”

She mustered one last smile in return. Then she watched him disappear from her—no longer—secret spot on the rampart. His cloak's movement as he rounded the corner was the last thing she saw of him. Vega took a deep breath and the cold air in her lungs made her cough. The king was right; she really should get back home. As she climbed down the stairs and found her lantern at the same place as she left it, she couldn’t stop thinking of his last words to her. Next time. Would there really be a next time?

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ichoosechoasandbeingqueer · 2 years

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Flames of the Forge - Bold

Fili x Darrowdam OC Narni

Warnings: cut/drop of blood (nothing major)

Word Count: 5224

Fili is a dwarf dedicated to his craft but still longs to find his one. On his one hundredth birthday, he may just find who he’s looking for. Narni is a blacksmith new to Erebor and presents Prince Fili with a controversial gift.

A/n: Hopefully this will be the first in a few short stories about these two. We’ll see how I go. Let me know if you want a tag list. This is mainly fluff but please feel free to comment and reblog if you enjoy!

The dress was soft and silky as it sat on her skin, the deep purple material hemmed with gold thread and steel cuffs making her feel powerful as she moved through the halls of Erebor. Her family and mastery beads sat in her braids tightly and her hair had been woven in such a way it brushed the ground in its length despite its carefully planned plaits. She adorned her favorite ear cuffs, gold but simple with a single amethyst gem dangling from her right ear. She moved with pride and purpose as she swept into the main hall full of dwarves.

She new it was a bold move, what she was doing. Very few had ever presented the golden-haired prince with a dagger of their own making, and even less had the nerve to do so in such a public setting. He lined his body with the weapons like one would with their beads and braids. They were apart of him, the cold blades hidden around his form, and he took pride in each and every one of them. His knowledge of the forge and its steel transcended into the beauty of his weapons. The prince was known for his dagger forging, the pieces of art that his hands created more stunning than any master could dream of bringing to completion. He bent an infused a slice of his soul into every blade he created. Sharp. Strong. Dangerous.

The only thing more beautiful then gazing upon such daggers was watching him use them. He used them like they were an extension of his body. Completely in control, his movements were always flawless and swift. The way he danced through the air with his steel was mesmerizing.

He had a kind and gentle heart, but when it came to his daggers, he was specific and stringent. Anything less than perfect was a waist of time in his book, and the few blacksmiths that had presented him with a dagger had been turned away in disgust. He had even kicked one out of the room entirely for presenting him a knife with a twisted and unfinished pommel.

His heart and soul belonged to his chosen craft. He lived and breathed the hot steel of the forges, the pounding and molding of the hammer on anvil, the sizzle and bubble of the quench. They weren’t just knives to him. To him they spoke stories and showed passions. A dagger showed your deepest essence as well as protected your life. To be presented with anything less then a flawless blade was an insult to himself and his craft.

The first time Narni had seen Fili Durin was in the battle of the five armies as she fought in Dain’s army. She had caught a glimpse of golden hair admits the chaos and frozen in place as she watched the darrow slice through orc after orc, dancing effortlessly through the battle of bodies and steel. It was only for a second, but the way he moved with his weapons had moved her. She had been a blacksmith since she could walk and had dedicated to learning the way of the blade, in battle and in the forge. The weapon itself was pedestrian, but the way the prince had used it brought a new life to the old steel. It was like artwork watching him twist and turn with steel in his hand and it sent a strange feeling through her body. And then in a blink he was gone.

The second time she had spotted him was in the forges. With the growth of Erebor, she had bid her parents farewell in the Iron Hills and settled down in the lonely mountain, continuing to learn and hone her skills with the uncovered knowledge of their libraries and ancient forges now burning with dragon fire. He had been testing one of his newly finished blades, the knife slicing through the thick leather hide like butter. He held such consecration and focus in his ocean blue eyes and he tested and wrapped his blade. Pride was held in his smile and as she studied his work for afar, she couldn’t deny its beauty.

That’s what sparked her soul and guided her to make her own dagger. One that she would offer to her prince.

The other dwarves had laughed, sneered and gasped when they had found out, but the dam could not be dissuaded. She had used every skill she had learnt and mastered from the design to the polish, pouring her blood, sweat and soul into her creation, and now, on the princes one hundredth birthday, she would offer her hard work to him.

Her heart was in her throat as she waited, fiddling with the soft layer of silk that wrapped her work. She knew it was a good blade, beautiful and deadly, but she did not know how he would react to such a gift. Would he smile, his pretty blue eyes widening in fascination? Would he nod politely and brush the gift of to one on the servers unimpressed? Would he scoff and send her away? The line she stood in took another step and it was almost her turn to face the prince.

Something solid hit her back however, and knocked her unbalanced as she thought, the gift falling from her hands and siding along the ground.

“Hey!” she protested, turning to glare at who had hit her, “take care where you step fool!”.

She cringed when she relised who was standing behind her. Vargit, another blacksmith and a bully, stationed a few forges away from her own staired back with a scowl. He was adorned in his best attire, and being the son of a lord from centuries ago, it made her own outfit look like rags. He practically glittered with the number of jewels and gems that hung from his coat.

“Sorry Birdy, I do hope nothing is broken?” he shot back quickly. Narni ignored the unflattering nickname and looked around for her gift, finding it already in the hands of Vargit’s brother, Vaster.

“Now, now, what is this Birdy?” the younger questioned with furrowed brows, shaking the box and unwrapping the silk. To slowly she lunged for the box his eyes widened at what laid inside. “Well now, that wouldn’t be a gift for the prince, would it?”

He swiftly threw the box over her head and into his brother hands to show him.

“Your joking?” Vargit chuckled holding up the knife to the light, “You’re actually going to present prince Fili with a dagger? You are a mad one. Skilled yes, that I would not deny, but mad nevertheless,”

“Mad or not,” she grunted as she jumped to take back her gift, missing when he held it far above his head, “I will do so with or without your permission. Now give it back!”

She jumped again and he laughed as she missed for a second time. Even for a darrowdam she was short against her kin, and she though it best not to punch the son of a nobledwarf in the gut, no matter how much he tempted her.

“Such temper in such a small frame,” he mocked, “yet to no avail,”

She tensed her knuckles by her sides “Perhaps I should use my anger to break your nose instead?”

“Oh I wouldn’t do that if I was you,” he grinned side eyeing the high court where his father stood in discussion with Lord Balin, the kings high adviser. She turned her head to follow his gaze and he leaned in and whispered into her ear, “I wouldn’t want to get you kick out of the party before you could present your gift,”

He thrusted the box into her hands and pushed her forwards as the announcer called her up. Flustered and rushed she stepped forwards and bowed low enough for her knees to touch the cold stone she stood upon.

When she looked up, she saw him. Prince Fili ‘lion heart’ Durin, son of Dis and heir to the throne of Erebor. He sat in his throne, to the right of the kings’, and held a small smile on his lips. Beautiful golden locks braided around his face framed his blue eyes and in his thick beard, just below his bottom lip, held a single braid and bead. A master blacksmith bead.

She swallowed harshly when she saw it and he must have noticed. He faintly raised one of his brows and tilted his head as he gazed at her softly, his grin widening when her entire face burnt red in embarrassment.

The announcer at her side cleared his throat and she jumped in her spot, pulling her eyes away from his.

“Oh, I, um.. Narni Silversands, at your service your majesty. And to you I present my gift for your one hundredth birthday,”

She held out the box, cringing at the wrinkled ribbon and uneven silk thanks to Vargit and Vaster’s rough handling, but bowing her head respectfully as the box was handed to the prince.

“I thank you for my gift Narni,” he purred in a beautiful silky voice that had her blushing once again, “though I must say I am surprised,”

“Surprised your majesty?”

He nodded once, his bead jingling as he did so, “The only dwarves that have handed me gift with there own hands tonight have been those on the council or their children. I do not recognize you as one of those children, and you seem far to young and lovely to be on the council,”

“Oh,” she blinked pushing back the thoughts of him calling her lovely, and focusing on putting words together, “You would be correct my prince. I am not Lord’s daughter or Lady of the house. Merely a blacksmith who now calls this mountain her home,”

“A blacksmith you say?”

“Yes, your majesty, a bold one some might say,”

He tilted his head again and gave a small chuckle. With thick fingers he pulled open the bow and Narni felt herself hold her breath. The small smile on her princes’ face slowly faded as he staired into the box and she felt her heart drop in her stomach.

Mahal. He hated it.

Fili opened his mouth to say something but closed it again with a look of discomfit. He glanced at her again and she felt her eyes begin to burn with tears. She took a breath and pushed them down as best she could.

“It is… nice?” He tried cautiously, noting the anguish on her face, “An admirable effort I suppose, nothing fundamentally wrong with it. Pretty silver handle?”

Five months she had worked on that dagger! From tip to hilt she had worked tirelessly to make it perfect, to make it a part of her and a part of him and all he could say was…

“Silver?” she scrunched her nose up, “the handle is not silver,”

He looked at her questionably and snorted, “Yes, it is,” he argued holding up the box to show her.

There in the box sat a simple silver dagger.

Not her dagger.

“But how? That’s not.. I didn’t…”

“I’m sorry master Narni but I don’t know what more to say on the matter…”

“That’s not mine. I didn’t make that for you!”

Fili frowned, “You packed the wrong knife before you came? That seems hard to believe lass,”

Around her dwarves started to laugh and she took a shaky step back.

“I don’t understand I…”

Fili gave her a sympathetic look and her bottom lip trembled. Dwarves arounder her began to mutter and she could only catch words like ‘pitiful’ and ‘silly girl’. Her palms felt sweaty and her breathing shuttered.

“Perhaps it is time for you to move on,” the announcer muttered lighting pushing her out of the way and back into the crowds. Before she could get a word out to argue the next person had stepped up began their introductions. She turned on her heal and dove back into the crowds to cover herself from the golden princes’ eyes that lingered on her sadly.

Her heart pounded in her ears and her hands shook as she tried to make it to the doors of the grate hall. She kept her head down as she shuffled wiping away her tears and sniffling miserably to herself.

She didn’t understand what had happened, she had made sure that everything was perfect. How could another dagger be placed in the box like that?

“What’s wrong Birdy? The prince not like your gift?” a voice called over her shoulder stopping her dead in her tracks. She tilted her head back and watched Vargit grin down at her when she made the realization.

“You? You did this didn’t you? You swapped the daggers”

His grin widened wickedly and he pulled out her dagger from his jacket, “Of course I swapped them. I got so sick of you beating me every step of the way. Every knife a make, you make a better one. Every sword I smith they pay you double!” His smile had slowly vanished as he had spoken, anger replacing his features, “So now you look like a disaster in front of everyone, no one will every commission your blades again. And now there’s noting standing in my way of smithing,”

“What?” she spat at him, her anger burning under her skin, “Mahal, what the stars are you talking about? Maybe make a decent blade from time to time and you wouldn’t have a problem to begin with!”

“Oh you little brat! You little Bird! Take your daggers and stay out of my way!”

And with that he threw her dagger as far as he could onto the restricted balcony above their heads. She let out a cry and took off down the corridor no longer bothering to hide the tears that streamed down her face.

***

Fili’s night had been long and numbing, and he let out a stifled sigh as he looked around the room and ignored the conversation around him. Truly that hall looked grand. The large iron chandeliers were ablaze, the food was abundant and the Durin tapestry that lined the back wall behind their thrones was complete and hung against stone. His uncle had gone above and beyond to make this night spectacular and as much as the prince wished to sit back and enjoy it, he knew it for what it really was.

Since reclaiming the mountain and taking his rightful place as prince and heir, Fili had balanced his duties with his love for his craft. He would spend almost every spare second he had in his forges, more grand and luxurious as there were here compared to what they had in the Blue Mountains, and he had quickly dedicated himself to his craft. Only, he had not taken up his craft alone like many other masters had, which meant Thorin had tried to set him up with more dams that he could count. Tonight was no different. The grand expense and over the top outfit that had been chosen for his were all an attempt for his uncle to find him a spouse. He loved his uncle dearly, but it was becoming a bit much.

In truth, Fili wasn’t against the idea of finding someone to spend the rest of his life with. Mahal, the prince has had his wedding planed since he was twelve. It was Kili that people saw as the hopeless romantic out of the two off them, but Fili was just as much emersed in the longing to find his one as his brother. It was just difficult to actually find them. Especially now that he was a prince and the crowned prince no less. Most of the time he could spot those who would bat their eyes at him in the hopes of wealth and political power rather quickly, sending them away and continuing his search. The others that had actually wanted to get to know him he simply didn’t connect with the right way to see a romantic relationship with in the future. He had to follow his head in making a decision, but he also had to follow his heart.

His mother had always spoke of the first time she had met their father, the spark that short through them when their eyes met and the connection they felt in their souls when they spoke. He had seen it in Kili when he had met Tauriel in the Elven Kings dungeons and in his uncle at Bilbo as they stood upon the Carrow. He knew of the magic of finding your one, and he had thought he almost found it.

A beautiful darrowdam dressed in purples and gold had approached his throne flushed and shy taking his breath away when her eyes flickered up to meet his. He didn’t recognize her face or recall her name but she had called herself a blacksmith. Her steel masters bead tracing alone her soft jaw had confirmed it and for a moment he felt something. Perhaps it was the that flame in her eyes that held out her soul for show, or the adorable chuckle she gave when she called herself ‘bold’.

And bold she was to present to him such a gift. A gift that he had rejected in so many others.

She held confidence in her stance but not the cockiness of others he had the displeasure of meeting. Though as he opened the box it was not what he had imagined. He had expected her soul to speak through her creation, the same flare that rolled off her effortlessly weaved into its sharp metal. Maybe he had thought to much of her, expected too much to soon. His heart fell to his stomach when he saw the plain looking dagger sat snug in the box.

He had watched her face fall and he looked between the weapon and her face and the confusion that scrunched up her face as he showed her what she had presented to him. It almost made him want to believe there had been a mix up and wait for her to find her ‘real’ gift, but before he could address her again the announcer had pushed her out of the line and ushered the next person up.

He had sulked to himself ever since and now as he sat next to the King and Lord Dain and pretended to listened to wherever they were talking about as he huffed and sighed. He quickly decided that he needed another glass of wine and lifted his crystal goblet only to be temporally blinded as a flash bounced from the lighting to his mug to him. He blinked a few times and looked around to find what had reflected catching a flash of metal fly threw the air. His first though was that they were under attack and his hand instantly when to one of his hidden knifes at his hip. When he registered that it was not coming towards them but away, he squinted through the crowd to see where it had come from and if there was to be another.

His breath caught in his throat when he spotted the dam from before with her purple dress flowing around her like a halo and her hair sweeping the floor. She was standing with one of the Lord’s sons and they were both facing towards where the object had landed. He watched from afar as pain spread across her features and she took off into a run out of the hall, leaving the other darrow to laugh and strut away.

The prince frowned at the exchange and felt his stomach churn. Had he hurt her in some way? She hadn’t limped and held onto anything in pain, through her expression made him hesitate. He had done something to distress her and it had to do with that flash of object that now laid on the retracted balcony. Well, restricted if you weren’t of the royal line.

Excusing himself in a quiet voice, Fili slipped out of the great hall and slowly wondered up to the balcony that the object sat. His feet wondered up the spiral staircase and through the corridor and finally he came upon the door. When he arrived, he slid open the stone door and looked around the small area with intrigue. Neither dwarf had held a bow so what ever it was must have been small enough and light enough to been throw to such a height.

He checked under the few chairs and table that sat in the room before another flash hit his eye. There on the edge of the balcony sat a knife teetering on the edge of falling. Quickly he snatched it up and examined his find, his eyes widening in wonder at the steel that laid in him palms.

The daggers blade was a ladder damascus pattern and as he flipped it around in his hands, he discovered it was coated so that the metal shone a gorgeous Durin blue in direct lighting. It was a rare skill amongst blacksmiths to make the colour shine through and he had never seen it accomplished so well on a blade before. The pommel was made from some sort of bone or antler and sealed with a resin so it would not crack, darkening to a gold colour at the hilt that displayed the head of a lion. The prince moved closer to the light had gasped at the detailing of the sculpture. The lion’s mouth held a snarl and a braid adorned each side of its mane to match his own. He traced his fingers over the smooth blade finding no rivets or delamination in the steel and a sharp sting struck his fingertip as a bead or red dripped onto steel. It was as sharp as ice and now christened with his blood.

It must have taken its creator months to perfect and if filled him with exhilaration and a tad of jealousy at its skillful crafting.

Was this what the dam had intended to gift him? No wonder she had been so distressed when he showed her the other dagger that laid in the box he was given. But how did it end up here?

He had to find her, to ask if she truly was the creature of such beauty. But how would he do that? He had her name but knew nothing else about her.

Frustrated and newly inspired, he turned away from his own party and began to wonder through the halls of the great mountain in contemplation. He needed to find her. To ask her. To explain. Would she be understanding to his rejection or angry with him? Would she be kind or hash as he sort her out. Could she teach him how she created a blade with such vibrant colour? Perhaps he could craft her a dagger of his own making as an apology?

Locked so deep in his thoughts he wondered down stairways and through archways of stone until he came across the forges. So caught up in his mind of planning and designing his legs had carried him to his work bench. A smile broke out on his face and he made for his desk knowing he had so designing paper left over from his last build. He paused at his desk however and frowned as the sound of a hammer sounded and echoed through the darkness.

The royal forges were on the second level of the smithery, separated for safety and comfort for those who would normally be swarmed by their subjects, but was open so they could look out and over the other blacksmiths on the first level. Looking over the railing of his level a single forge was lit and burning, a dwarf pounding down of the glowing metal bar before them. A flash of purple material on their person caught his eye.

Shocked and hopeful Fili practically raced down the stairs and over to their forge slowing only when he arrived to watch them in awe. It was indeed Narni, her long hair wrapped up messily into a bun and her dress gaining burns and smudges of charcoal. He also noted sadly, the dried lines of tears that ran down her face and the newly puffed burns on her hands from not paying complete attention.

Loose wisps of hair stuck to her forehead as sweat dripped down her face and neck. He could see her muscle through her dress as she reeled back her arm and brought it down with a crack to the metal.

Realizing he was staring he took a timid step forwards and cleared his throat. She spun around quick as lightning and held out her red glowing steel under his chin in a defensive stance.

It took her a moment to catch her breath, but she eventually lowered the steel and tilled her head in question.

“My prince Fili? What in Mahal are you doing down here?”

The prince remained speechless and wide eyed as he gazed at her, his turn to blush and stammer. So soft and gentle she had looked kneeled before him, but here in her domain, she looked powerful and dangerous. Either way Fili thought she was beautiful.

Pulling his eyes away he remembered why he was here and held out the dagger from the balcony.

Narni’s eyes watered a touch and she let out a soft gasp, “How did you get this?”

“It is yours is it not? The dagger you were meant to gift to me?”

“Yes,” she nodded, leaving her metal and hammer on her workshop bench and taking a few steps towards him, “This is the dagger I crafted but it should be abandoned on a balcony not here in your hands,”

“It is exquisite,” he whispered.

Her face lit up at his words.

“Truly? You like it? You’re not just saying that because you feel bad?”

“Not at all! My words are sincere when I say this is one of the most beautiful blades I have ever had the pleasure of wielding,”

He offered her a smile and she sheepishly returned it. She held out her hands.

“May I?”

He nodded and placed the dagger in her hands only for her to kneel before him. The light from the forges’ flames made her eyes shine and dance as she looked up at him with determination.

“My prince Fili,” she said with a bow of her head, “on your one hundredth birthday I present you with a gift made of my own hands in the hope that it may serve you well inside and outside of the battle field. To you, I give a dagger forged in the mountain you will someday rule, by a subject that holds nothing but loyalty and adoration for your bravery and dedication to his people and his craft,”

He felt touched by her words and couldn’t help his eyes from watering as she declared them, “Such devotion and kind words you hold for me my dear Narni. I will do well to honor them always,”

“Thankyou for giving me the chance to say them. I don’t know how you came across my dagger nor how you found me all the way down here while the great hall is filled with merry and song, but I will always be grateful,”

A strangely comfortable silence engulfed them as they watched each other through the dark. Fili removed his only visible dagger and tucked it inside his jacket replacing it with Narni’s gifted dagger, the lion facing out like it would defend him when needed.

Testing the waters, the golden prince took a step closer to her workbench and let his eyes wonder. Papers covered in ruff sketches and little notes to herself lined the back wall of her desk and handmade tools for carving and molding delicate details were tucked into a jar to the right.

“Did you design all of these?” he asked.

“Yes, most are decorative pieces rather than practical, but a few are the favorite knifes I have already completed,”

“And this?” he gestured to the now cooling metal she had been working on, “what will this become?”

She blushed scarlet, “Honestly, with the way I was pounding it, most likely it will end in the scraps. It was more so something to take my frustrations out on,”

He chuckled knowing the feeling. He had spent many a night merely heating metal to bash at it after a particularly stressful day in council meetings or other royal business.

“A shame, I would have loved to see you create something now I know of your talent with the steel. perhaps another day I will have the chance to see it?”

She seemed taken back by his request but nodded and grinned again, “Only if I may see you at work also?”

“You truly are a bold one, aren’t you?”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Fili thought for a moment and his hand came to rest on the hilt of his dagger, the feel of his lion new to his fingers. New and thrilling.

“No, I think it is a good thing. Actually, I think I may need to follow in boldness,” he confessed.

“Oh, and why is that my prince?”

“I would like to get to know you better miss Narni Silversands, and I must be bold enough to ask. Would you like to come back to the party with me?”

She smiled brightly at his question but faltered when she looked down at herself, “I would love to prince Fili, but I’m afraid I may have ruined my only dress. I would not wish to make you or your halls so filthy,”

He though for a moment before nodding, “Then perhaps I may get to know you here. Coal smudges and all?”

“I do have some designs I could show you?” she mused, scratching her chin and leaving a black smudge along her jaw.

Fili chuckled at the action, “I would love to see them,” he grinned bringing his hand up to her face and wiping the stain from her skin. It was a bold move put it paid off when she blushed brightly, making the same face she had in the great hall.

He took a step back, reignited the fire so they had light to see and sat down next to the dam. She pulled out a few sketches, some black sheets and some chalk and pencils and laid them down before them. She scooched herself closer to him and he gave her a cheeky smile.

“What? It’s cold,” she defended.

“Well that just won’t do, will it?”

With one last bold move for the night, he peeled off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders.

They settled comfortably against each other and didn’t move until the sun come up the next morning, talking and laughing and designing knives or beauty. Perhaps it wasn’t the sparks his mother felt upon meeting his father, or the bright glowing light his brother described, but being next to her? It felt… nice.

It felt… right.

Could it be?

His one?

He supposed he would have to be bold one more time and find out.

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matrose · 1 year

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one thing thats fascinating to me is that the dwarves mustve awoken long before sun and moon first rose because that happend around the timeframe the noldor arrived at which point dwarves were already established enough to be comissioned to build menegroth. khazad-dum itself was even built during the years of the trees… do the dwarves know that aule made the vessels for sun and moon (🥺)? in general does aule communicate with the dwarves in some way? through dreams or other signs? sobbing on my knees because we have no info on religious practices. anyways imagine their great halls with me & how they mightve worked glittering stars into some of the roofs to emulate the nightskies they awoke under. hey also isnt it crazy that their language stayed the same everywhere over centuries so that dwarven cultures that havent interacted with one another in a thousand years can still understand eachother. they HOLD ON!!!!

#also interesting with the anachronism in song of durin >no stain yet on the moon was seen<#technically true bc NO moon was seen…#also the importance of stars for them…..durins crown #dwarrows

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nuttydragonbird · 2 years

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Finally looked up a place to get my first tattoo 🤗 it's really close to where I live and she does awesome line art. she's not taking bookings till October but that gives me some time to decide which of my 3 ideas I want first 😁

#it's a toss up between the Night Court emblem from acotar #a Percy Jackson Camp Jupiter one for every year I took Latin #or Durin's Crown from lotr #yess I am a geek thanks for asking :)#nonsims #rambling #tattoos

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shurikthereject · 2 months

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I've been re-reading A Hobbit's Gamble by CQueen on ao3 for the third time now and it had me imagining what Bilbo's clothes would look like if he stayed in Erebor and became Thorin's consort. I decided to create a balance between Hobbit and Dwarvish fashion for these two outfits, one being for the outdoors and the other for indoors. That being the the jacket, waist coast and capri pants mixed with capes and belts. The colour palette also become handy in creating that balance. I mixed Hobbit's bright colours and Durin's blue,which represents his statues in the royal family (This is also Thorin's favourite part of his outfits). It is often discussed how flowers and plants are important to Hobbits and with that I added embroidery of different flowers with meanings that are compatible with Bilbo. The flowers on his head are mostly just a replacement for a crown for day to day. Please comment if I should add something, I love reading your ideas!

#the hobbit #bilbo baggins #bagginshield #bilbo stays in erebor #headcanon #design #dwarven clothing rules #and so does hobbit's #flower meanings

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ohnonotnow · 4 months

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my library

here's some of the best the hobbit/lotr fanfics I've read cuz they can be quite hard to find and I wanna help

will update the list as I read

Thorin

Smoke, iron and Thorin

Fire and Gold

Learning Khuzdul

Braid of Gold

Thorin being soft

The Beauty of Chance

Those Hands

Misunderstanding

The arrival

A king's crown

Covered In Steam

There's just inches in between us

Thorin after a long day of training with his nephews

In This Moment

Agreement

Symphony of your life

Oh so quiet

Confession

Find Your Way Back

Fili

fili oneshots

Moonrise

The Most Unpleasant, Defective, and Abominable Incident

Stay with me

The Redeemer

Durin's Garage

Restless

Kili

The book keeper

insecurities

The beauty and the Beast

getting back at Kili for teasing

My Treasure

Madly in love

It's in his kiss

Love Bites

Sway With Me

Wood Carvings

Softly. . .

Sweet like nectar

A Shot in the Dark

Beorn

Early Mornings

Beorn takes care of you when you're injured

Linger

Legolas

Watcher of Wanderers

The Innocence of Brutality

Blessing

Sensitive

Being best friends with Legolas

Hazy Memories

Spellbound

Thranduil

Bookworm

Relax

Best friends father

Fascination

Flower On My Skin

To Meet Under the Stars

Passenger Princess

Autumn Thunderstorm

I Could Love You With My Eyes Closed

Haldir

Gentle Dark

Lindir

My Heart Is In Your Hands

Moonlight

Just a Little Help

Warriors Great Tales

The Fountain

Return to Me

Èomer

Burnt Bread

A Helping Hand

Wildest Dreams

Falling In Love With A Librarian

SFW alphabet

Happiness

A Roll in the Hay

Blessing

Turning Points

More characters

various characters oneshots

Imagine: elves having highly sensitive ears and you finding out by accidently touching them.

Journey to Erebor

Hair braiding

Elves + Braiding

What Type of Kisser is Each LoTR Character?

The Hobbit Characters + Physical Affection (Suggestive Version)

A Headcanon For Each Member of Thorin’s Company

Cuddling With Thorin's Company

Imagine some of the elves of Middle Earth find out how easy it is to make you (a human staying in Rivendell) blush and become aroused.

The LOTR characters reacting to a modern reader

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babushkatty · 5 months

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Tranquil SAGAU - Part 2

-> Part 1

-> Part 3

"How does it feel like, to fly?" You asked idly, cuddling into Dvalin's feathered, soft back.

"I could show you," is what you got for an answer.

And so here you were, flying over Mondstadt (the country) and being utterly speechless at how little justice the game did to the utter beauty of it all.

Hills of grass and farmlands (it made so much sense for Mondstadt to be a country of agriculture, of farming, how had you not thought of it before?) rolled lazily wherever the eye could see, stretching well over the horizon.

Forests swayed with the wind as Dvalin flied by, lush crowns blending into one another and protecting the animals underneath.

Lakes and rivers cut through the monotony of greens and browns with a brilliant blue, sparkling in the sun like Edward Cullen.

The mountains of Liyue, so small you had the impulse to grab them into your hands despite how far away they were, were like an extension of Mondstadt -- a slow and steady rise from a mere molehill to a towering behemoth overlooking the vast world.

Dragonspine, instead of playing into the beauty of Mondstadt, seemed to go directly against it. Using it to enhance its' own presence, to have your eye stray and appreciate the cold, ethereal mountain of snow and ice instead. It looked deceptively peaceful from so far away - the nearly permament snow storm looking like a translucent garb shrugged elegantly onto white robes of an indifferent jade beauty, whose mere gaze could freeze you to death.

And Mondstadt (the city) looked like a mere speck of dust in the grand scheme of it all.

"How pretty," you couldn't help but say, head swaying to and fro as you enjoy the view and the gentle winds from where you sat, sprawled out like a starfish on the dragon's back.

You kind of saw a pattern there, but you certaintly weren't complaining.

Dvalin huffs a laugh.

"It is only natural, Teyvat was made by the All-Mother. Anything made by their hand is bound to be beautiful."

You laugh, loud and unrestrained and uncaring, because there was no one to scold you for being yourself anymore, "Indirectly complimenting yourself, are you?"

And Dvalin laughs too, a deep rumble of a laugh that has him dipping in altitude for a moment before he rights himself.

It was nice.

"I'm hungry."

"Then we shall land."

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

While you ate some fruits that a few adorable squirrels offered to you almost as soon as you landed (which made you melt into a puddle of happiness again, because they were so cute it hurt and they let you pet them a few times before they left), Dvalin made himself comfortable and started speaking. He wove stories like a master seamstress --of Teyvat, of Mondstadt, of Barbatos and of his own past--, giving birth to such vivid imaginery that you almost felt like you were there with him while it all happened.

He was a great storyteller.

The years of friendship between him and Venti probably contributed to it, there is only so long you can go without picking up a few things from an insistent friend after all.

"Durin was a pitiful creature. An artificial existence made by an arrogant Alchemist of Khaenri'ah in a futile attempt to recreate the All-Mother's miracle of creation, wishing for freedom and friendship but unable to attain them."

Dvalin huffs.

"I had to strike him down, for the safety of Mondstadt. And even on his death bed, not once had he blamed me nor Barbatos, merely wishing we had met in better circumstances."

The mood turns somber.

"His heart still beats in Dragonspine," you say after a while.

Dvalin exhales a long and drawn out breath.

"You will be able to put him to rest, once you grow stronger. It is merely a matter of time."

Quiet protests of you not being the All-Mother, of you simple being (Name) and nothing else, are quickly shoved to the back of your mind and ignored.

Instead, you ask why he believed so.

"You have purged me of the Abyssal filth that had tortured me for centuries with your mere presence, despite having descended only recently. That is enough confirmation."

You blink in suprise.

Didn't that mean you were much earlier in the timeline that you thought?

Huh.

Something to think through while you monch on the fruits.

Then again, did it really matter how early into the timeline you transmigrated? You weren't an ambitious person and you didn't crave adventure and excitement. People like you manned the market stalls rather than making a difference.

...you probably jinxed yourself.

☆(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ* ✨ Author Note✨

Countdown to All-Mother dearest jinxing themselves and making a difference - however long it takes me to write the next chapter!

Now, ✨how do I taglist people cuties✨

I am trying to tag someone but the @ can't find them, someone heeeeeeelp I'm poking and fat-fingering everything on their profile but it doesn't work :(

Also, if someone is bored of boring music check out The Kiffness on youtube, I'm having a Kiffness x Goat collab on repeat and it's dope af.

Kookee kookee with a cockatiel is dope too.

And the cat jams.

He has a whole playlist of just cat jams, what more does a coach potat like me need?

#genshin sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #genshin impact #x reader #genshin x reader #isekai #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #x gn y/n #self aware genshin

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mrkida-art · 10 months

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The children of the Dáin I, the crown prince of Durin's Folk.

The eldest, Thrór, the future king under the mountain.

The younger, Frór, destined to die. And the youngest, Grór, the future lord of the iron Hills

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fili-urzudel · 5 months

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Hello!! Could you do 14, 15 and 31 with Fili? Romantic or platonic, up to you. Thank you 💜

13. Sitting together

14. Handholding

15. Sharing a blanket (potentially violent)

31. Stargazing

This combination is classic and oh-so-fluffy, and with my favorite Dwarf to boot! I went ahead and added another prompt as well.

Everyone lives AU, because there is no other ending in my mind.

BTW I'm sick :( but I'm going to try to get at least one other prompt request out this week

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.8k

Moonrise - Fíli Durin x Reader

The Durin's Day festival was always fun, but it was all the more spectacular in the newly reclaimed Erebor.

"The first autumn equinox since the mountain was reclaimed, can you believe it?" Fíli said with a bright smile, looking with pride at the crisscrossing bridges and vaulted ceilings of the entrance to the mountain. There was still plenty of work to be done, to be sure, but its improvement was impressive regardless.

"And in a couple days, the anniversary of when it was reclaimed," you nodded in agreement. "A few months after that, the anniversary of the first time you walked around by yourself."

"Hush, I'm trying to enjoy this," Fíli gave you a fake scowl, unconsciously probing the scar hidden beneath his tunic.

You changed directions. "Of course, my Prince," you teased. "You look very nice today."

You meant it. His hair was freshly washed, the slightly damp strands frizzing out in the cool morning air. Each bead was carefully placed, a few decorative gold ones added in place of a crown. His tunic was a smooth yet understated silk underneath his leather vest and wool coat. Every detail was precisely placed, the burnt oranges and browns blending seamlessly. He had clearly been seen to with the utmost care. He looked like royalty, even without the royal garb. Most importantly, he was healthy.

His smile softened, his cheeks turning a bit pink under his mustache. "Thank you," he glanced to the ground before looking back up at you. "And you're beautiful as ever."

You blushed deeper than him, unused to compliments. You plucked at the placket of your own wool coat, dyed a deep woad blue. It was your favorite. "Thank you," you said, choosing for once to believe him. "What duties do you have today?"

"None, surprisingly," Fíli breathed. "Thorin's let me have a break, so I can enjoy the first festival in our new home right alongside you." Something about that little word, our, set your heart ablaze. "You want to stick with me?"

"If you'll have me," he smiled again. That smile was impossible to resist.

"Of course I will."

Erebor had been steadily growing over the past year, but that day, it seemed more alive than ever. The market squares were full, overflowing into the wide side streets. Jewelry, blades, shields, ceramics, sculptures--anything made out of earth or in forges were certainly found somewhere in the expansive space. The Ereborian dwarves' tentative friendship with the Men of Dale caused new, less traditional stands to pop up as well: flower stalls, street food vendors featuring fish dishes, and clothing and homeware shops full of bolts of linen. The mountain had only dwarves—and Bilbo—in its halls, a presently rare occurrence, and so you were all free to speak Khuzdul, the sharp sounds ringing pleasantly in your ears.

The two of you strolled as quickly as possible through all the markets had to offer, determined not to miss the afternoon's performances. You exercised exemplary self-restraint, only stopping at one of every five stalls that caught your eye.

"No," became a very popular word as well, what with resisting Fíli's unceasing offers to purchase anything you liked.

"Well, if you will not spend any of your share of the treasure, I must spend some of mine and relieve what must be the terrible, stifling boredom of your living quarters, my friend," he teased, mustache beads swinging from side to side.

"I will have no prince wasting his money on me."

"Oh, it's never a waste if it's you," Fíli told you surely.

There he went again, saying things that made your palms sweat and your cheeks flush. "You're too kind."

Fíli smirked at the way you diverted your gaze. "Well, if I cannot buy you a rug, at least allow me to buy you lunch," he gestured to a permanent restaurant on the corner that was swarmed with dwarrow.

You couldn't help a smile at that. "Hot stew?" You asked, referring to the almost overpoweringly spicy meat-and-potato stew that was a dwarven classic. Benron's was your favorite.

"As hot as you like, of course," He agreed, guiding you forward with a gentle hand on your back.

The stew made your eyes stream in the best way, and you pulled Fíli out of the restaurant scarcely once he was finished eating. "We have to find good seats!" You reasoned as he raised an eyebrow, still wiping his mouth.

"You do realize that Thorin has the best seats, and by extension, we do as well?"

"Right," you said. You had forgotten. Somehow, none of the Durins were royalty in your mind. They were still your traveling companions, dirt poor and looked at as crazy.

"Still, it is sort of nice to take a seat before everyone starts filtering in and it gets too loud," Fíli reassured you. "After you."

The grand presentation began with a song to the mountain. In the ancient tradition, singing was a way to ask the mountain to reveal its secrets, a careful gathering of tones that would uncover its nature.

This song, however, was made more to please the ears of the listener. It was a song of thanks, of hardly believing that this mountain was once again the shelter for her people. You tried your best to control the tears that rose to your eyes.

Fíli leaned over, bumping your shoulder with his. You gave a small smile that he returned, and you could see in his eyes that he was thinking of all that it took to get there.

"We did it," you whispered.

"Yeah, we did."

The opening songs were followed by traditional dances, a speed-forging competition, and a few spars. You cheered on the brothers as they fought each other, with a healthy dose of brotherly teasing. Fíli let his little brother win, or so he told you. The look on Kíli's face was more than worth it. You congratulated him and let them both clean up as you headed to the gates.

The gates were still open, cool air pouring into the mountain as the sun dropped in the sky.

Dale was dimmer than usual—the city was empty. The men were lining the edge of the water with candles. This equinox now also marked the anniversary of the fall of Laketown and many of their loved ones. The dwarves tried their best to be respectful of their vigil.

You leaned against the wall and watched. You hoped they found peace and remembered to enjoy their new lives. Bard, standing at the back of the group, turned around. He caught your eye and nodded.

"Come with me, I think we should see something," Fíli's low whisper startled you from your reverie, and his hand wrapping around yours even more so.

"Where are we going?" You asked, not that it mattered. With his hand in yours, you'd probably follow him anywhere.

He led you on a trek around the front of the mountain, the setting sun turning everything orange and making his hair appear as flames as you went.

Caught in the daze of bliss, it took you a while to notice what was draped over his other arm. "Wait, is that—I told you not to buy that!"

It was the woven blanket you had noticed earlier, the tapestry depicting sunrays falling through a thick forest of firs. "And what if I bought this for myself? I have uses for it."

"Then it's alright, I suppose."

"You can keep it once I'm done with it, though."

"Sly fox."

"Coin pincher."

"Seriously, though, where are we going?" You asked.

Fíli smiled at you. "A certain very large staircase."

You gasped. "Leading to a secret doorway?"

"The very same. I figured, since we were both trying to help Kili, erm, not die, we missed the excitement, and now we can see it for ourselves."

"That's extraordinarily thoughtful of you."

"Eh, I'd say averagely thoughtful at best," Fíli shrugged.

"Perfectly suitable for me," you told him.

"Good."

The achingly long trip up the staircase was rewarded with a very nice sight: another, less decorative blanket spread across the stone, a couple flat pillows, and three lanterns, already lit and ready to face the darkness.

"When did you find time to do this?" You asked Fíli, grinning from ear to ear.

"I have my ways," he said mysteriously. "And help."

"That's where Bofur, Bilbo, and Dori disappeared to," you observed. "I see. Well, it's very sweet of all of you."

"I'm glad you think so," Fíli said, still holding your hand as he guided you to sit on the blanket with him.

The stairs had taken longer than anticipated, so the sun was already almost gone. You quieted as you realized how close the time was. The two of you watched in quiet admiration as the moon rose, bright and perfect, into the sky, before you turned, hoping to catch a glimpse of the door.

You gasped. "There it is!" The moonrise revealed the shape of a perfectly hidden keyhole. "That is very neat, indeed."

"Mmhm," Fíli agreed. "Beautiful." The keyhole was not what he thought was beautiful. He wasn't actually looking at the door at all, but rather you, and the way the moonlight reflected off every spectacular detail of your face.

He had never known quite when he started to feel this way, only that he didn't in the Blue Mountains, when he barely knew you, and he did now.

You turned your gaze from the keyhole once the wonder had made a comfortable space in your heart, and looked to the stars, all too aware of how close Fíli was.

You read out the constellations to yourself in the comfortable silence, assuming the prince was doing the same. You then heard him shift.

"Lay with me," Fíli offered, and you turned around in record time, cheeks blazing and eyes wide.

"What?"

He was already lying down with his head on one of the pillows. "To watch the stars more comfortably."

"Alright," you said, voice quiet. You scooted down until you could lay your head on the other pillow, before changing your mind. You decided to take a risk and settle your head on his chest instead.

"Is this alright?" You asked immediately. The last thing you wanted was for him to be uncomfortable in this situation.

"Of course it is," he said softly, his arm raising to hold your waist. "I enjoy being close to you."

It wasn't quite a grand confession, but it was good enough for your heart to begin hammering in your chest. "I enjoy being close to you, too."

#lotr fanfic #lotr #the hobbit #lotr fandom #the hobbit headcanons #the hobbit x reader #fili x reader #fili durin x reader #fili and kili #fili fanfic #fili #fili durin #fili durinson #fíli x reader #fíli durin #fíli durin x reader

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river13245 · 1 month

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hii :D

i’ve a request, could u write kili durin x male!reader where the reader asks to braid kilis hair not realising that it’s courtship in the dwarfish culture. kíli has the biggest crush on the reader and takes this as a sign that the reader likes him back. the reader did not realise that’s what braiding a dwarfs hair means and was also totally oblivious to kilis crush on him and never noticed he was flirting and always assumed he was just very friendly, but obviously the reader likes kili back and it’s just total fluff 😋😋

thank you smm 💞💞

Braids and Courting

Kili Durin X Gn Elf Reader

Being an elf wasn't as great as some beings would think. Of course with being an elf there was skills you had to learn, that were useful. The long and beautiful hair, the soft skin, the pointed ears and the youthful look. All those were great of course.

What wasn't that great was being part of the higher class elves. This meant that eventually you would have to marry and usually you didn't love the person next to you. It was just part of the routine in everyone's life. However you didn't want to wake up next to someone that didn't love you. Or someone you didn't love.

So that's exactly why you left home when you did. It wasn't long before you met Gandalf the Wizard. Him knowing who you were of course, because that man had a lot of knowledge after all his years of living. He had stayed with you for a bit, and it didn't take him long until he invited you to join the group. Of course you could never say no to an adventure so you agreed.

That's exactly how you ended up right here. You had been with the group of dwarfs for a long while now. Even before the hobbit came along and joined you guys.

You were fairly close with fili and thorin, those two were like your best friends. The others you were like a family with except for one. Kili who was filis brother, he was someone you felt strong feelings for. Feelings that go past platonic or familiar feelings. No these were feelings of love, however you never knew how to express these types of feelings because you never really saw it being done.

Over the span of time there had been many moments where Kili had done very sweet things. Things that made your heart pound and your stomach feel weird but of course you thought it was just him being friendly.

-----

Walking around with Thorin in comfortable silence as you both looked for another path was interrupted when you hear someone join you. Turning to look who it was you saw Kili beside you. He looked up at you and held out some berries. "here I had a feeling you would be getting a bit hungry around this time. Have some of these, I have extra"

He grabs your hand and places the berries in your hand. "thank you but don't you need them?" Kili shakes his head "No take them" he squeezes your hand gently before walking back towards his brother. Leaving the quiet thank you that left your lips just drifting into the air.

It was too dark to see the faintest of smile form on Thorin's lips as you go back beside him and eat the berries that Kili had given you.

-----

There had been many times like this

There was one day when all of you had found a big field of flowers. You were so focused on drawing the scene. You liked to draw pretty things and so you were sitting by a tree drawing on a piece of parchment with a pencil you had brought.

In fact you were so focused you didn't even notice how Kili had been picking flowers and making you a flower crown. Eventually when he was finished he came and sat next to you. You rested your head on his shoulder for just a second before looking over at him "hi Kili"

Just the sound of his name coming from your lips made him smile. "hi y/n" he replied before grabbing the flower crown he had made you. "here put this on. Have to see if it fits"

You lower your head a bit so he could place it on your head. It fit perfectly and when you sit back up and look at him. He smiles and nods "perfect, it looks good on you" You smile and blush very softly. "thank you" he nods and walks away.

When he is a good distance away his brother. Your best friend comes and sit on the other side of you. "how long are you going to be blind to the fact that my brother is infatuated with you?" The shocked look on your face makes him laugh. "what? what do you mean, infatuated?"

He looks at you and sighs "You cant tell me you havent noticed the way he always makes you things and gives you things. Always making sure your cared for" Your silent for a moment before it all comes together. "oh"

Fili places his hand on your shoulder "i will let you decide what to do with this information" He gets up and walks away leaving you to think about what to do.

Kili had made something for you and given you things so you decide you should do something for him. You've recently noticed that he has been pushing his hair out of his face more frequently than normal so you decide you would braid his hair for him. Just so its out of his face.

You get up after putting your things away back into your bag. Then begin to walk over to where Kili is. When you get to him he notices you right away and looks at you. "hey Kili. Could you come sit with me for a moment?" He nods and walks with you and sits against the tree next to you.

"everything okay?" he asks a little worried but when you give him a nod and take a breath to calm yourself. "would you mind if I did your hair. I've noticed you pushing it out of your face a lot recently and id like to help?" He looks at you for a moment before turning around.

"what are you going to do with it?" He asks

"i'm just going to braid it. I promise I will make it look good" you reply

Kili looks straight ahead so you don't see the smile that's forming on his face. In the dwarf culture braiding hair is a sign of courtship. He didn't know if you knew that or not but either way he decided to play it cool. Not wanting to make you uncomfortable and you stop.

You kneel behind him on your knees to get in a more comfortable position. Then you begin to gently get all of his hair and pushing it back so you can split it into three sections. Once its in three sections you begin to twist them all with each other, braiding his hair very nicely.

Kili was sitting there patiently not saying much. But you do notice the way he rests his head against your hands. His whole body seems to relax under your touch and a sigh escapes him when you begin to gently massage his shoulders.

When you are finally finished you pull away and he turns around and looks at you. "thank you" he says and you nod. "you look very handsome Kili. I hope you will let me do it again sometime"

He nods and brings your hand up to kiss the back of it. "of course, you are the only one ill let touch my hair." You smile and nod "great ill be honoured" when the both of you get up and go your separate ways Kili gets a few looks since most of them know what this means.

You on the other hand are pulling your bag back over your shoulders. Doing your own thing, when Thorin walks up to you. "y/n" he says which causes you to look over at him. "Thorin"

Thorin looks at Kili and then back to you. "i'm assuming that you are the one that braided his hair?" You nod in response "yes I am, is that a problem?" He shakes his head "no of course not. I just have one question, Do you know that braiding a dwarfs hair means you are courting them?"

A smile forms on your face, no second thoughts are needed. "I know that now. And I find myself rather pleased that people will know that the both of us are together" Thorin smiles and nods placing his hand on your shoulder. "well its about time" he jokes a bit.

This causes you to smile and decide to tease him back. "how about you and the hobbit? When will you two decide to court each other" Thorin blushes very lightly and shakes his head "I don't know what you mean by that"

"mhm sure you dont" you say with a smirk before walking up to Kili. This time instead of standing beside him, you slip your hand into his and hold onto it. From that day on everyone knew that the two of you were spoken for.

#river13245 #fluff #male reader #gn reader #kili durin x reader #kili durin #the lord of the rings #the lord of the rings masterlist #kili durin fanfic #thorin oakenshield x reader #fili durin #masterlist

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sotwk · 3 months

Text

Historical Event in the SotWK AU:

The (Non)Involvement of Thranduil in the Sack of Erebor

Could Thranduil have helped kill Smaug and save Erebor?

Disclaimer: The content in this post is mostly headcanon created for the SotWK AU, founded on canon details from the books and movies.

Context: Timeline of Thranduil's History in the Third Age

c. TA 1000-2000 - Thranduil, his family, and their people spend one thousand years fighting and enduring against the rise of Dol Guldur and the darkness and evil creatures that have infested and overrun the southern regions of Greenwood the Great.

Alas, by TA 2000:

Nearly all the woodlands south of the Old Forest Road had been abandoned.

The Woodland Realm's population had been reduced to nearly half of the great number it reached during the Golden Age of Thranduil's rule.

Many Silvans were killed by the onslaught of spiders, orcs, and other dark creatures or poisoned by the sick forest itself (air, water, food). A few even faded from grief and despair, which never before happened to the resilient Silvans.

The Silvans' famously high birthing rate dropped to nearly zero, leading to a "lost generation" and fears of gradual extinction.

TA 2063 - Crown Prince Mirion dies in direct combat against the Necromancer, resulting in Thranduil's vengeful razing of the fortress (SotWK HC), and the Council of the Wise's investigation (through Gandalf), all of which forces Sauron to abandon Dol Guldur. This begins the period known as the Watchful Peace.

During the 400 years of the Watchful Peace, the Silvans regain hope and courage, and with that, their ability and desire to have children again.

TA 2210 - Thorin I abandons Erebor to join his kin in the Grey Mountains in TA 2210. The Lonely Mountain is abandoned for three-hundred and eighty years.

TA 2460 - The Watchful Peace ends. Sauron returns with increased strength to Dol Guldur.

TA 2509 - Princess Itarildë’s mother, Nimeithel (oc), dies trying to defend her cousin Celebrían from the Orcs. Lady Celebrían sails to the Undying Lands the following year, and Queen Maereth is devastated by the loss of her two dearest friends.

TA 2589 - When their halls in the Grey Mountains come under attack by Cold-drakes, Prince Arvellas dies attempting to aid the Dwarves (defying his father's orders for the only time in his life). Dáin I and younger brother Frór are both slain, and Thrór inherits the kingship.

TA 2590 - King Thrór returns to Erebor with the Arkenstone to re-establish the Kingdom under the Mountain. Thrór's younger brother Grór leads others to the Iron Hills.

TA 2601 - Prince Turhir leaves Mirkwood, unable to cope with the trauma and guilt over his brothers' deaths. (Further details withheld to avoid fic spoilers.) His departure strains Thranduil and Maereth's marriage in a way it has never suffered before.

TA 2746 - Thorin (Oakenshield) is born in Erebor. Maereth sends gifts to honor the birth of the new prince, in an attempt to heal the friendship with the House of Durin that was broken after Arvellas's death. The gifts are accepted, but the rekindled friendship remains tenuous, especially since Thranduil has lost his desire to remain allies with the Dwarves he holds responsible for Arvellas's death.

TA 2760 - The continuing strain on their marriage forces Maereth and Thranduil to agree they need time apart. Maereth leaves Mirkwood to reside in Imladris for several years. (This is the only separation they have in the 2,900 years of their marriage.)

TA 2765 - Thranduil (trying to prove to his willingness for peace with the Dwarves again, as Maereth wants of him) commissions the jewel-smiths of Erebor to make a necklace from the White Gems of Lasgalen. However, when he comes to claim the finished necklace, he is turned away by Thrór, who (under the influence of dragon-sickness) claims that the gems were ill-begotten treasure from Khazad-dûm, and belonged to the Durins by birthright. Thranduil holds in his anger at the insult and does not press the matter, not wishing to completely sever the alliance that means so much to his wife.

TA 2770 - Smaug lays waste to the town of Dale and captures Erebor with all of its treasure.

tldr: Thranduil was not at his best when Smaug came to attack Erebor. He had many problems of his own, and he had very legitimate grievances against Thrór and his kin.

Unfortunately, Thrór was never forthcoming with his grandson, Thorin, about the deep history between the Durins and Thranduil's family, so as far as Thorin and his people believed, the Elvenking and his family just "lacked all honor". Nothing could have been further from the truth.

How did Thranduil react upon hearing of the attack?

The Elvenqueen was still in Imladris during the attack, and was therefore not present to give Thranduil council. Because of their separation, Maereth's mind was closed off to Thranduil's, and so she could not be reached through ósanwe. The younger princes, Gelir and Legolas, lacked the ability to telepathically communicate across that great a distance.

It was Gelir and Legolas who pushed their father to ride out with their army to help the Dwarves. Even though the bitterness of Arvellas's death still remained, Thranduil heeded his sons.

They had a solid plan to kill Smaug.

Thranduil had fought against fire-breathing dragons during the War of Wrath, and he knew what it would take to kill one: nothing short of a hero's self-sacrifice.

There was one weapon in Mirkwood that was surely powerful enough to pierce dragon hide and flesh: the great broadsword (or claymore) of the late Crown Prince Mirion.

Mirion's sword was forged by the prince himself (he was the best bladesmith in the realm), and was made from a special steel sourced from Khazad-dûm centuries before its fall. (Thranduil's sword was made from this same steel, which was also crafted by Mirion and given to his father as a gift.)

The sword was so large and heavy, only three people were known to be able to wield it: Mirion, Thranduil, and Turhir. Only Mirion had the strength and sufficient practice to wield it single-handed when needed.

Therefore, any attack using the sword would have to be carried out by the Elvenking himself.

For reference, Mirion's broadsword is about as massive as "Ice", Ned Stark's Valyrian sword from Game of Thrones.

In order to defeat Smaug, Thranduil's strategy would have been to attack the dragon himself with the sword. Gelir, Legolas, and the rest of his army would provide enough diversion to allow the Elvenking to get close without being burned by dragonfire.

What actually happened during the attack?

Thranduil was gripped by indecision and did not act as soon as he received the news of Smaug's descent. He already knew that any action they take against the dragon would mean loss of life for his people, and that made him hesitate, which caused some delay.

But he DID gather his army, his last two sons (who refused to be left behind), and marched out with the intention of engaging.

However, once Thranduil saw with his own eyes he fiery wrath of Smaug and the destruction he was capable of, and sensed the dragon's greed and evilness, the reality of the situation and the weight of old memories crashed down on him full force.

He remembered how he almost died from dragonfire, how painful those burns were, and how long it took him to recover from the physical and emotional scars. (And he only survived due to Valinor-level healing!) Did he want his soldiers to suffer the same, even if they survived?

He remembered that he had already lost one son (Arvellas) to dragons, who gave his life to help these same Dwarves, and received little gratitude for it in return. Was he ready to risk his last two sons?

And lastly, Thranduil realized, with almost full certainly, that killing Smaug would cost him his life. Was he ready to leave his wife a widow, his sons fatherless, and grandson saddled with the burden of kingship in such dark times?

The answer to all those questions was NO. So he made the difficult decision to turn back.

Thranduil's real mistake (that you can fault him for. Maybe.)

An argument could be made that even if Thranduil didn't want to directly engage with Smaug, he could still have sent his army to shield the Dwarves of Erebor and the people of Dale and help them get to safety. Less civilian lives could have been lost.

They didn't have to completely turn around and go home. They could have still tried to to something--as his sons (especially Gelir) would argue later on.

However, at that point, Thranduil choked on his reluctance to risk anything any further, after everything his family and kingdom had already been through. His sons were especially chomping at the bit to slay the dragon, and things could have easily gotten out of hand if they stepped into the same field as Smaug.

By retreating completely, Thranduil eliminated all risk.

And yes, the bitterness of Thrór's treatment (those damn jewels), and the way Arvellas's death was handled (the Durins never properly honored the prince's sacrifice) still lingered. It certainly factored in the decision to (selfishly?) leave the Dwarves to their fate.

Thranduil HAD warned Thrór "of what his greed would summon", especially after the fatal attack of the cold-drakes on the Grey Mountains. And Thrór certainly did not listen.

What was fair, then? How much responsibility still fell on Thranduil to help the Durins, given all these facts?

Aid was delivered in the aftermath; but the Dwarves considered it "too little, too late".

When Smaug had finally locked himself up in Erebor with his precious treasure, Thranduil did send out aid to the refugees of both Erebor and Dale. When Elvenqueen Maereth finally returned from Imladris, she spearheaded this effort.

Mind you, it's not like Mirkwood was swimming in excess resources at this time. But they still gave whatever they could to the thousands displaced, including medical aid, food and clothing, and even temporary shelter.

The men of Dale accepted the aid and help in finding new dwellings, including resettling in Esgaroth.

The Dwarves accepted the Elves' aid, but only to some extent.

Thrór wanted Thranduil to prove his allegiance by helping them to force Smaug out of the mountain, which of course Thranduil flatly refused to do.

The proud and angry Durins therefore declared him and his people faithless, and chose to move south to Dunland, instead of accepting Maereth's offer to help them rebuild near Mirkwood.

The Elvenqueen's final attempt to reconcile her family and people with the House of Durin would be during the War of the Dwarves and Orcs (TA 2793). However, her tragic death only worsened the divide between Thranduil and the House of Durin; we see this in Thorin's anger during his capture in the events of The Hobbit.

It all ends happily.

Healing and reconciliation would finally be achieved a century and a half later, during the Battle of Five Armies (TA 2941), where the Elves of Mirkwood play a role in saving the lives of King Thorin and his nephews. Once Erebor is reclaimed by the Durins, the two kingdoms become fierce allies and remain so for the rest of their histories.

(Yes, the SotWK AU is proud to be a Durins Live AU. <3 )

This HC post was written in response to an Anonymous request for a "Family Historical Event" submitted back in July 2023.

For more Thranduil/Mirkwood headcanons: SotWK HC Masterlist

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