#faithless woodland sprite
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I use "pointy-eared princess " and "faithless woodland sprite" in my bio because it's some of my favorite dialog/acting in BOTFA. Billy Connelly knocks it out of the park as Dáin. Such a hoot. Lmfao. He's amazing.
I love how even with 15 pounds of makeup/hair/helmet he shines thru.
This. Right. Here.
Thranduil is all like, yeah I'm pretty lol.
But when Dáin calls him a pointy-eared princess...ooof.
And I found this meme of Billy Connolly talking about Lee Pace:
We can all agree.. he's beautiful to watch.
#thranduil#the hobbit#the hobbit botfa#dáin#ironfoot#billy connolly#lee pace#faithless woodland sprite#pointy-eared princess
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#i also love thranduil's smirk when dain calls his head pretty#'faithless woodland sprite' 'pointy eared princess'#i love them both#bofta#the hobbit#bagginshield#hobbit poll#smoking old toby
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CHAPTER XXXII
A Kili X OC fanfic
Previous chapter // Next chapter
Tw: Battle, mentions of violence through weapons, decapitation, Raewyn being a badass, Thorin battling dragon sickness, Bilbo and Raewyn part ways. Feels (IT’S BEEN TEN MONTHS OKAY I AM SORRY)
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Sure, she’s lost her mind last chapter, but she’s okay now, guys!
The mad king had proclaimed war. The end was nigh, all could feel it, but the king proclaimed war. Raewyn did not dare spare Thorin one look, scared she’d climb back up the moment she did. As the ranger neared her other friends, the ground began to shake catching the armies off guard. Looking up the hills, the crowds spotted tiny dots running down the mountains. Heavily armoured dwarves tumbled down in loud uproar, led by a single dwarf riding a pig, clad in equally heavy armour.
“Ironfoot,” Gandalf uttered, looking down at his two friends as they observed the commotion. Cheering erupted from Erebor as the dwarves watched their kin run to their aid. From the sidelines, Thranduil commanded his army to hold their shields up, a command they swiftly obeyed. Then, the elven king rode through his army whilst they took off from the gates of Erebor. It wasn’t until Gandalf began to walk as well, that Bilbo and Raewyn caught up.
“Who is that?” The hobbit asked to no one in particular. “He doesn’t look very happy.”
“It is Dain, lord of the Iron Hills,” Gandalf explained, to which Raewyn’s face shot white. Yes, now she recognized him. “Thorin’s cousin.” She continued for Bilbo, even though her speech was closer to a question asked to the wizard. He said nothing in return, affirming her suspicions.
“Are they alike?” “I always found Thorin the more reasonable of the two.” The wizard revealed. Looking up at him, the ranger rolled her eyes, exhaling deeply.
“Oh, joy.”
“Good morning!” A voice called, suddenly closer than anticipated. Gandalf urged himself through the crowd, the two smaller creatures trailing behind him. “How are we all? I have a wee proposition, if you wouldn’t mind giving me a few moments of your time. Would you consider…just sodding off!”
People began to move backwards anxiously, while the elves readied themself to engage. Raewyn subconsciously followed their lead, pulling a dagger from her belt, seeing as she abandoned her ax at Erebor.
“All of you! Right now!” In response to the dwarven leader, Bard encouraged his folk. “Stand fest!”
“Come now, lord Dain!” Gandalf spoke, announcing his presence to the said dwarf. Bilbo and Raewyn remained in the crowd as the wizard walked up front, nodding his head in acknowledgement when the dwarf recognized him.
“Gandalf the Grey!” He voiced. “Tell this rabble to leave, or I’ll water the ground with their blood!” “There is no need for war between dwarves, men and elves!” Gandalf interrupted sternly. “A legion of orcs march on the mountain. Stand your army down!” But the pleas went unheard. Or heard and ignored. Knowing dwarves, it was likely to be the latter.
“I will not stand down before any elf! Not least this faithless woodland sprite!” As he pointed towards the elven king atop his stag, Raewyn nodded her head to the side in mutual agreement, but kept her face blank. “He wishes nothing but ill upon my people! If he chooses to stand between me and my kin, I’ll split his pretty head open! See if he’s still smirking then!”
With that, he took off again, marching to his armies who halted halfway across the hills. “Dain, wait!” Gandalf called after him, but - yet again - the pleas went ignored. Once more, cheers erupted from the mountain, but they were this time joined by Dain’s army. Passing through the crowd, Thranduil moved forward, staring the dwarf down who disappeared in the distance. His head slowly turned to Bard, addressing him specifically. “Let them advance. See how far they get.”
“You think I give a dead dog for your friends, you pointy-eared princess?” Dain continued taunting as he finally joined his army. “He’s clearly mad, like his cousin.” Thranduil continued.
“You hear that, lads?” Dain responded, chuckling lightly at the spoken words. “Let’s give these bastards a good hammering!”
“Stand your men down. I’ll deal with Ironfoot and his rabble.”
With those words spoken, Bard silently urged his men to stand down, making way for the elven army. Shouts and commands were heard from the dwarves on the other side of the hill, before a second string rumbling filled the earth. Hordes of battle rams battered down the mountains, more heavily clad dwarves atop of them. In response, the elves formed a barricade in front of the rest of the armies. Drawing their bows, they awaited the words of their commander.
“This is madness!” Gandalf protested loudly, yet he took a couple steps back, urging his two companions with him.
Thranduil uttered a shout, causing the soldiers to release their arrows. Rains tumbled down upon the dwarves, before catapults were launched. As they flew, it seemed as if knives twisted at the end of them, cutting the elven arrows in half before landing in the midst of their army, cutting down hundreds of soldiers. Raewyn’s eyes widened upon the sight, harshly grasping Bilbo’s coat as she began to walk quicker.
She did not witness the second rain, nor the shock on the elven king’s face. The only next thing she remembered were the wide eyes from the people around and Gandalf shouting the following words. “Were-worms!”
“Kitum,” Raewyn mumbled on her breath. Finally turning around, she saw the huge worm-like creatures emerge from underneath the mountains. Their mouth filled with enormous teeth, sharp enough to cut through the rocks of the earth, making their way to the mountain. Behind them, an army filled with orcs came marching down. Staring at their new companions, the ranger turned back to Bilbo, nodding to his sheathed sword.
“Slash, don’t pierce. It’ll require more effort if you do.”
Confused, the hobbit looked up at his friend, resting his hand on the hilt of the blade. “I don’t wish to fight.”
“Nor do I,” She sighed, forcing an encouraging smile onto her face. “For your sake, but I fear you might have to. Stay with Gandalf.”
“What will you do?” Grabbing Raewyn’s sleeve, he stopped her steps halfway, forcing her to stay. She looked down at him in remorse, but stopped halfway when she heard the loud roaring of Azog. Her eyes followed the source of the sound, before she found him atop a tower on a hill in the distance.
“Fight,” She answered curtly, still looking at the creature towering over all armies. “I will not let the orcs divide more families. Their reign ends here.”
The dwarven army began to march towards the new threat of the east, the elves slowly standing down. The difference between both armies was apparent; the dwarves were in the clear minority.
“They won’t make it.” Bilbo whispered, mostly to himself, though he secretly hoped Raewyn heard it as well. She did. She simply chose to ignore him.
“Our ways part here.” She stated, silently cursing herself for leaving her axe at Erebor. She was left with daggers now, and though they were usually efficient, she wouldn’t win battles with them. She’d have to steal on from the floor.
“Raewyn-“ “We shall meet again, Bilbo,” She interrupted, looking back at her friend one last time. “Keep up hope. And don’t part from Gandalf. There is nowhere you will be safer.”
Then, Bilbo took a bold step forward, before wrapping his arms around the Asha’s middle, pulling himself closer. Almost immediately, Raewyn reciprocated the gesture, wrapping her arms around the smaller hobbit, placing a light kiss atop his hair.
“Your armour is really uncomfortable.” Bilbo muttered against the iron, but refused to let go yet.
“Kili insisted.” She tried to joke, though her face fell lightly upon the mention of his name. Stepping away from him, she gave him a last farewell nod. “Go!”
As Raewyn took off towards the dwarves, who had now formed a protective line in front of the mountain, she dared to risk one last look over her shoulder. But when she did, she almost stopped running. For there, over the other side of the hills, a second army began marching, but not towards the battlefield. They were heading for Laketown at Azog’s command.
“Bard!” She shouted over the chants and screaming of the fighting armies. Luckily, the man appeared to be listening immediately, his head turning towards the Asha hidden in the narrowing empty land between the elves and dwarves. “They’re heading for the city!”
His head turned around upon the words, looking on in fear as Raewyn’s words appeared to ring true.
“Azog - he’s trying to cut us off!” Gandalf agreed, having heard the ranger’s shout.
Bard took action, turning his horse around, speaking to his army in panic. “All of you, fall back to Dale! Now!”
With the men retreating to defend their home, Raewyn was somewhat relieved to see the elves fight alongside the dwarves. But even then, their numbers were scarce. Too scarce for a fight on this scale. She would have seconded it, was it not for the orc marching straight towards her. Making up her mind immediately, she clutched her dagger tighter. Diving to the floor, she missed the swing of his blade. As she rolled around, she used her dagger to stab his thigh, before kicking the creature to the floor. Grabbing the sword he had dropped, she fiercely swung it down, instantly ridding its body of its head. Though unbalanced and riddled with dirt and blood, the ranger opted to keep the sword now. At least until a lost axe was to arise somewhere.
Wrestling herself through the crowds of orcs and elves, Raewyn finally arrived in the midst of the battle. All around her riders on war pigs and dwarves ran, clearing the enemy before she could even try to reach them. Though their attacks may have been brutal, the strategy was poorly executed, or simply nonexistent. Where one orc fell down, it looked as if two more appeared. As if their army didn’t stop growing.
Her eyes fell on a particularly threatening orc, looming over the dwarven lord and his pig without his notice. Thinking quickly, she took the sword in one hand, grabbing her dagger again with the free one. Taking one quick second to calculate her line, she threw the dagger directly into the back of the orc’s head. On impact, it collided to the floor, uttering a warcall and a final whail.
At the sound, the dwarf whipped around on his pig, aiming his weapon threateningly at the woman. Yet, when he came to face her, it wasn’t an orc - as he had expected. She looked like a dwarf in that armour. But her face gave her away. He did not quite know what to do, but looked at her in disdain, rather than gratitude.
“Who are ye?”
“Raewyn Asha,” She answered swiftly, slashing her - or, temporarily her - sword towards an oncoming enemy.
“Asha?” The dwarf repeated, the gears in his head turning. His face morphed from disdain to disgust, now approaching her, the pig snorting angrily.
“You might not like me,” She explained, still occupied in her fight. “Thorin might not like me, but I am fighting for your kin.”
Silence passed between the pair as Raewyn resumed to fight off the orcs. Dain merely seemed nailed to the floor all of the sudden. He observed her for a short moment, before nodding his head. “Aye,” He ultimately concluded. “I hope yer father taught ye some tricks.”
The Asha only smiled at him, throwing her blade between the shoulder blades of an oncoming contender. The damage wasn’t nearly as high as she was used to, for the sword only managed to slice the skin briefly. Huffing in frustration, she tried again. Annoyed, the orc spun around, raising its own knife to end Raewyn. But she was quicker, more skilled. The sword was clearly not made for the slashing she was used to, but it was still heavy enough to dismember a thick-skinned orc. Its arms fell to the ground, quite literally, followed by its head.
“Ye could use an axe, though.” Dain called over his shoulder, fighting his own battle.
“That obvious?” The woman tried to joke, slowly forgetting about the ordeal on the mountain. The mind plays wonderful tricks once it’s in a life or death situation.
Slowly, but surely, the dwarves were being driven back more with every passing second. Raewyn began to notice it when the amount of dwarves in her area kept shrinking.
“There!” Dain suddenly called, his arm gesturing towards a discarded axe mere feet from him. Slaying the orc in front of her, she took off running towards the weapon, only dropping the blade once the axe was within her reach. It wasn’t structured in the way she was used to, but it would have to make do.
In the meantime, Dain had wandered back even more, now also taken notice of the scarce amount of dwarves around them. In his moment of short absence, the pig underneath his body gave out with a squeal, a weapon lodged within its skin.
“You buggars!”
More angered, he began to headbutt his enemies, clearing a path, though it wasn’t one forward anymore. Fatigue settled within him, Raewyn could see it. Frustration slowly turned into despair as he looked around the battlefield.
“Where’s Thorin?” He roared, bludgeoning many orcs encircled around him. “We need him.”
Almost ahead of him, the ranger whistled loudly, not gaining the attention of the creatures around her. She didn’t need to. From above her, Farris flew down to her partner, landing on her arm.
Fishing down in her boots, Raewyn pulled out her last dagger, the handle small enough for the owl to hold.
“Sent for the dwarves of Erebor.” She whispered, holding her up as Farris took off, now making way for the mountain.
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Erebor had begun to grow silent under the shouts of battle outside. Thorin had locked himself away in the throne room, occupying the large chair, crown atop his head. Outside the halls, his companions looked onto the war brewing. A war their king had initially started. A feeling of dishonour had washed over all of them. All but one.
“Since when do we forsake our own people?” Storming into the throne room, Dwalin shot the king a helpless look. “Thorin, they are dying out there.”
“There are halls beneath halls within this mountain - places we can fortify.” The king concurred absentmindedly, staring off into the walls. “Shore up, make safe. Yes…”
Looking up, Thorin faced the taller dwarf, standing up from his throne. “Yes - that is it. We must move the gold further underground - to safety!”
With that, the mad king began to walk away, readying himself for moving his treasure somewhere safer. But the notion did not go warranted by Dwalin.
“Did you not hear me?! Dain is surrounded! They’re being slaughtered, Thorin.”
“Many die in war.” Thorin shot back, halting his steps momentarily. “Life is cheap. But a treasure such as this cannot be counted in lives lost. It is worth all the blood we can spend!”
“You sit here in these vast halls, with a crown upon your head, and yet you are lesser now than you have ever been.”
That seemed to tick him off. Angrily, he marched up to his old face, his face set in a dangerous tone. One Dwalin easily recognised as the one Raewyn often received from the same dwarf.
“Do not speak to me as if I was some lowly dwarf lord…” His voice wavered halfway, staring at his hands confused. But then, he spoke up again. “As-As if I were still...Thorin...Oakenshield. I am your king!”
In anger, the dwarf roared, pulling his sword. But his stance was unbalanced, his mind not entirely there, and he nearly fell over, dropping the sword in shock. Dwalin looked on in near sympathy, his shoulder dropping with his words.
“You were always my king. You used to know that once.” Bowing his head in sorrow, the dwarf continued. “You cannot see what you have become.”
Panting heavily, the king stared at his subject, his chest heaving with every breath. “Go! Get out...before I kill you.”
In defeat, the heavier dwarf retreated, leaving Thorin alone with his thoughts. A dangerous move to be made, for him and his mind could no longer be trusted. The king himself had realised it too, but the fight in him wavered. The room changed before his eyes. The golden floor remained its new colour, but the sky seemed darker. More threatening, almost.
“But a treasure such as this cannot be counted in lives lost...” His own voice echoed in his mind. As if listening to it, Thorin stilled his movement, seemingly nailed to the floor.
“A sickness lies upon that treasure...” Balin. His oldest friend.
“The blind ambition of a mountain-king…”
“Am I not the king!” His own voice. Again. “This gold...is ours...and ours alone...”
“Treasure…”
“I will not part with a single coin...”
“He could not see beyond his own desire...”
“That crown on your head means nothing…” His biggest taunting ghost: the Asha.
“As if I was some lowly dwarf lord…Oakenshield.”
“A sickness that drove your grandfather mad...”
“Oakenshield...”
“This is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror...”
“I am not my grandfather…my grandfather.”
“You are the heir to the throne of Durin...”
“They are dying out there…”
“You cannot deny them the help that they deserve…”
“Take back...take Erebor...”
“Dain is surrounded... surrounded...is surrounded...Dain is surrounded...” His friend’s voice, begging for help.
“Take back your homeland…” The grey pilgrim.
“You are changed, Thorin...” Bilbo.
“I was a fool to consider you might have changed…” Raewyn.
“I am not my grandfather…”
“Is this treasure truly worth more than your honour...”
“I am not my grandfather…” The words were now spoken aloud.
“You can trust him…” Raewyn’s vow. Her vow for him.
Suddenly, the voices stopped, leaving a deafening silence. Shadows moved under his feet, below the floor. As he looked down, he saw the wings of the dragon. Its tail, its head, its paws, slithering from underneath him.
“This treasure will be your death…”
Screaming in agony, the floor beneath him gave out, sinking him into the golden sea. He tried to fight his way out, clawing at the edges, trying to out swim the gold, but it wouldn’t work. The sea won, and it swallowed him whole.
Gasping audibly, Thorin staggered, observing his surroundings. He was still there. Standing atop of the golden floor that had taken him seconds again. The crown on top of his head felt heavier than ever. In panic and anger, he ripped it off, throwing it onto the floor.
Finally, his mind had returned to him.
——
Taglist: @errruvande @writingawaymylife @justnerdystuffs @spidergirla5 @fallenangeloflight @bianavacker-is-bi-as-hell @lxdymormont @deathofafangirl01 @the-cranck-hobbit @chaoticpaintsplatter @zaddyluvr @bxtchopolis @derangedcupcake @radbarbariancupcake @gay-destiel
It’s been a while, so if you wish to be removed from the taglist, I can understand this. Send me a message to let me know and I’ll remove you from next chapter forward! <3
#tolkien#the hobbit#starcrossed losers#kili x reader#kili#kili durin#kili imagine#thorin oakenshield#fili and kili#kili x raewyn#raewyn asha#kili x oc#the company of thorin oakenshield#raewyn supremacy#the company#raeli#fili durin#fili#lotr
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Shout-out to one of my baby sister for A) watching BotFA with me while I was working on my latest binding project and B) thinking Daín calling Thranduil a "faithless Woodland sprite" was super mean and maybe profane. She's five lmao
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This is prismatic-starstuff dot tumblr dot com, where Many Many Pictures And GIFs Of Thranduil are spammed on the daily
#i cannot help it#that faithless woodland sprite radiates the biggest husband energy and i love him a lot-- T_T
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For all the hatred between Dwarves and Elves, for all the specific disdain Durin’s Folk have for Elves and specifically Thranduil... Dáin II Ironfoot stills him pretty.
Thranduil is beautiful even to Dwarves, I don’t make the rules it’s just a fact.
#trainer shay would like to battle (ooc)#genuinely makes me laugh#alongside him being called a 'faithless woodland sprite' sdsfghdfdgsf#misc; (thranduil)
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@materxnatura did not like anything for a starter, but she made the decision to be friends with me so fair game.
The Elvenking has felt… something for some time now, a prickling at his skin, an awareness that he cannot and would not dismiss as being without reason or merit. Not when he feels as though he is being watched.
It does not strike him as anything dark or ill-intentioned, and so he says nothing of it even once only he remains within the throne room. It is not like the feeling of the forest beyond his halls. It merely is and for a time he thinks that he will wait them out to see if they will reveal themselves unasked.
He grows tired of waiting, however. Patience never has been one of his virtues––but then, what might be, faithless woodland sprite that he is?––and he addresses the presence.
“… If you think me so foolish or to be so influenced by our excellent Dorwinion that my mind is muddled or my senses dulled, then I regret to inform you that you would be mistaken,” he says, taking a sip from the glass of said wine before he continues.
“How much longer shall you linger out of sight, Shadow? It is of little consequence to me, only that I wish to know whether I might return about my duties for a time without inconvenience, or if you mean at last to approach with what-ever matter has led you to undertake such furtive methods…”
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Prove Me Wrong, Part Twenty-Eight: Come Back
Series Summary: Caithwistë, born from the only known pairing of an elf and a dwarf has spent most of her life in hiding. When an old friend, (or a certain meddling wizard) finds her in the woods, everything changes. Now, she will have the chance to prove the world wrong about her value. A ‘The Hobbit’ fanfiction based off of the following imagines from @imaginexhobbit: This One is the basis of the story, and This One and This One will be added in later. If you recognize it, it belongs to Professor Tolkien or Peter Jackson. But, as usual, the story and all of the mistakes are my own!
Prove Me Wrong - Masterlist
Chapter Notes: Finally! We are at the gates of Erebor and gah.... again I’m super exited we’ve made it to this point!!!
Warnings for this Chapter: angst, mild cursing because.... Dáin :)
Tagged: @imaginesreblogged @chevycastiel1967 @rices4me93 @tschrist1 If you want to be added just let me know!
Caithwistë couldn’t help but fidget as she stood next to Mithrandir amongst the Elven army before the barricade of Erebor. She glanced at the faces of the Company that stood armed at the top, looking smug as if they had already won the battle.
“How can they feel so confident?” She asked as Bard held up the Arkenstone to prove the key to their bargain.
“Thorin is unwell, but not to be underestimated. He will have a plan.” Mithrandir muttered grimly.
Caithwistë frowned and glanced at the top when Kili’s voice rang out. “Thieves! How came you by the heirloom of our house? That stone belongs to the king!”
“The King may have it, with our good will.” Bard said, tucking the Arkenstone back into his pocket.
“Is there any chance of this ending peacefully?” She asked quietly, already knowing the answer.
“No, My Dear. I do not believe so.” He said, patting her gently on the shoulder.
Caithwistë felt sick, but felt even worse when she heard Thorin’s voice. “Throw him from the rampart!”
She could see the commotion on the top, and blanched when Thorin pushed Bilbo to the edge. Without a second thought, she pushed forward through the army to reach them. “Thorin, no! Please stop!” She yelled.
It seemed as if he did not hear her as he continued to try and push Bilbo over the edge. “Cursed be the wizard that forced you on this company!”
“If you don’t like my burglar, then please don’t damage him. Return him to me.” Mithrandir said from behind Caithwistë. His voice boomed loud enough to echo through the valley and the Mountain. “You’re not making a very splendid figure as King under the Mountain are you Thorin, son of Thrain?”
Thorin froze at the sound of Mithrandir’s voice and looked up, finally releasing his grip on Bilbo. He dropped his gaze from Mithrandir to Caithwistë and his mouth dropped open in shock at the sight of her.
Caithwistë glanced at Mithrandir, who nodded encouragingly, before taking a tentative step toward the barricade. “Thorin.” She called out. “I understand you have no reason to trust us, but please believe me when I say that no one here wants to see any more death. They only ask for what was promised, then what you desire most will be returned and we can all go home.” She pleaded.
Thorin regarded her silently for a moment before his face contorted with rage. “Us!?” He screamed. “You wish to gain my trust and yet you stand beside my enemies?”
“These people are not your enemies!” Caithwistë argued.
“Enough!” Thorin yelled. “Never again will I have dealings with wizards, or Shire rats, or filthy half-breeds!”
“Are we resolved?” Bard asked, distracting Thorin from his ranting. “The return of the Arkenstone for what was promised.”
Caithwistë caught the sight of Bilbo running toward them out of the corner of her eye and turned to him opening her arms. He ran into her embrace and sighed. “I kept my promise.” He said and Caithwistë chuckled.
“In a way.” She said releasing her grip on him as the sounds of marching reached her ears. “But I fear we are not safe from danger.” She added, turning as a new army approached.
Bilbo gave her a worried glance and she tugged him toward Mithrandir. As they ran, the elven army changed their position to meet the oncoming host, led by a stout Dwarf riding an armored boar.
“Who is that?” Bilbo asked Mithrandir when they reached him. “He doesn’t look very happy.”
Mithrandir grimaced. “It is Dáin, Lord of the Iron Hills. Thorin’s cousin.”
“Are they alike?” Bilbo asked, trying to keep up with the wizard’s long strides.
Mithrandir stopped and regarded them, looking exhausted. “I’ve always found Thorin the more reasonable of the two.” He said grimly before moving toward the front of the Elves.
Bilbo gave Caithwistë a shocked look and she could only shrug, taking off after Mithrandir again as Dáin began to address them. “Good morning! How are we all? I have a wee proposition, if you wouldn’t mind giving me a few moments of your time. Would you consider… Just sodding off?!”
Caithwistë smiled, liking the Dwarf-Lord immediately.
“Come now, Lord Dáin.” Mithrandir said, stepping forward.
“Gandalf the Grey.” Dáin acknowledged and Mithrandir gave him a polite bow. “Tell this rabble to leave, or I’ll water the ground with their blood.”
The men surrounding them began to murmur in fear and Caithwistë tensed. “There is no need for war between Dwarves, Men and Elves.” Mithrandir said, loud enough for them all to hear. “A legion of Orcs march on the Mountain. Stand your army down.”
“I will not stand down before any Elf. Not least this faithless woodland sprite. He wishes nothing but ill upon my people. If he chooses to stand between me and my kin, I’ll split his pretty head open! See if he’s still smirking then.” Dáin said proudly.
Caithwistë could not stop the grin from spreading across her face at the insult to Thranduil.
“He’s clearly mad, like his cousin.” Thranduil quipped as the Dwarves cheered.
“You hear that, lads? We’re on! Let’s give these bastards a good hammering!” Dáin cried, raising his Warhammer. He turned his armored boar toward his army and rode down the ranks, readying them for the attack.
The Elves readied themselves as well and Caithwistë blanched.
“Is this really happening?” Bilbo asked with a quavering voice.
Caithwistë glanced at him and grasped his hand, squeezing it tightly. “Stay with me.” She urged him and he nodded, looking as sick as she felt.
Suddenly, a deep rumbling sound reached her ears and she turned in the direction it was coming from. “No.” She whispered.
“Were-worms!” Mithrandir exclaimed.
As if he had summoned them by speaking their names, the were-worms began to burst out of the rocky hills as if they were nothing more than strips of dusty parchment. Behind them, came streams of Orcs in numbers that Caithwistë could hardly believe was possible.
“The Hordes of Hell are upon us! To battle! To battle, sons of Durin!” Dáin called out, leading his army to the front to meet the Orcs.
“The Elves, will they not fight?” Bilbo asked as they watched Dáin’s army set up a defensive position, barricading themselves with their shields. The Elven army had not moved, and Thranduil was watching the action with wide eyes.
Caithwistë drew her sword and took a step to join the dwarves but was pulled back harshly. “No Caithwistë.” Mithrandir said forcefully.
Caithwistë gave him an incredulous look. “What are you doing Mithrandir? They need help.”
“Yes, they do.” Mithrandir said, giving her a searching look. “They cannot win this battle on their own. If the Elves will not join them, they will need Thorin.”
Caithwistë shook out of his grip and fixed him with a glare. “What does that have to do with me?”
“You have to convince him. I believe you are the only one he may hear now.” Mithrandir pleaded.
“He relieved me of my contract, Mithrandir. He hates me, why do you think he would listen to me now?” Caithwistë demanded.
“He loves you, Caithwistë.” Mithrandir said impatiently. She scoffed and turned back to the incoming battle. “Hate cannot grow without love.” He added softly, stopping her in her tracks.
Caithwistë watched Dáin’s army stand at the ready as the Orcs approached them. Her eyes glistened, taking in the sight of how they had placed themselves.
They were protecting the Mountain.
They were protecting the Humans.
They were even protecting the Elves.
All these lives, they protected with no guarantee that any of them would come to their aid. “I cannot let them fall.” She said softly.
“Then you know what you must do. Go to him. Go to Thorin and make him see.” Mithrandir urged.
Bilbo grabbed her arm. “There is a rope on the left side there.” He said pointing. You can use that to get in, the Company won’t stop you I know it.”
Caithwistë nodded and patted him on the shoulder. “Be brave, Bilbo, and stay alive.”
“I believe that is the most useful advice I have ever been given.” Bilbo said with a smirk.
Caithwistë grinned and gave him one more hug before she took off toward the barricade. She found the rope that Bilbo had mentioned quickly and scrambled up and over the wall, hopping onto the platform.
“Miss Caithwistë, what are you doing here?” Bofur asked, running to her.
“I need to speak with Thorin, now.” She said breathlessly.
“I do not think that is wise, Lass.” Balin said, sharing an uncomfortable look with his brother.
Caithwistë shook her head. “This is not an option, it will only go faster if you help me find him.”
Balin frowned. “You don’t understand…”
“I will take you to him.” Dwalin said, interrupting his brother.
“Dwalin, no.” Balin pleaded, grabbing Dwalin’s arm. “Do not put her through this.”
“Do you have a better idea?” Dwalin asked gruffly. “He is lost and she may be the only way to bring him back.”
Balin opened his mouth to protest but sighed in defeat. “Go then.” He said waving them off.
She walked quietly with Dwalin through the halls of Erebor, trying to figure out what she could say. They stopped in front of a doorway and Dwalin regarded her. “He will be in there.” He said with a wave at the door.
Caithwistë nodded and moved to enter the throne room but Dwalin stopped her with a fierce grip on her arm. “Be careful Lass. He is not the Thorin you know. The dragon-sickness has taken hold of him and I fear that if it crosses his mind, he will kill you. I won’t be far away. If you need me, call and I will be there.”
Caithwistë smiled and kissed his cheek. “Thank you Dwalin, for always protecting me. I must do this though, for our King and for your people.”
“Our people.” He said gruffly with a tight squeeze to her arm. He released his grip and backed away to guard the door.
Caithwistë took a deep breath and entered the room. It was massive, walls made from the greenest stone and lined with streaks of gold. It would have been beautiful to her, if it weren’t for the sight before her.
In the center of the room sat a large throne, and Thorin lounged on it lazily watching Caithwistë approach. He was wearing thick fur lined robes and sported a golden crown on his head, reveling in his fortune.
“Come to share in my riches, half-breed?” He said with a smirk as she reached the steps that led up to the throne. “Your contract is void; you have no claim here.” He finished, sneering.
Caithwistë took another deep breath and addressed him calmly. “I have no interest in gold. I come on behalf of your kin, Thorin.”
He leaned back in the throne and regarded her with disinterest. “And what business does a treacherous liar like you have speaking on behalf of my people?”
Caithwistë felt anger surge within her, but she pushed it down hoping that he would see reason. “The business of one who cares for them, like Thorin Oakenshield used to.”
Thorin’s eyes narrowed with disgust. “You care for no one, only yourself. I will no longer listen to your filthy lies.” He said with a wave.
Caithwistë bristled, struggling to control her anger. “You speak to me of not caring?” She spat. “Your own family will die today without your help and yet you sit here on your throne, hiding like a coward.”
Thorin stood, towing over her menacingly. “I am the coward? How many times did you have a chance to tell me the truth of your birth? How many times did you choose to lie instead? You call me a coward, but you are far less than that.”
Caithwistë clenched her fists and met his glare. “Yes, I lied. But look what happened when you did find out the truth. You cast me away, just as I expected. At least I was always there to fight for those I love. I would never abandon my family at the time they need me the most.” She said with disdain.
Thorin growled. “Do not dare speak to me of love. How can you speak of something that you have never felt?”
Caithwistë opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself. This wasn’t him; he wasn’t himself. As she watched him, she saw only hate and greed in his eyes and nothing of the one she loved. She shook her head before glancing at him with sadness. “I love Thorin Oakenshield.” She said softly, taking a tentative step toward the throne. “I cannot take back what I have done to him. But I would do anything to make it right.” Thorin froze as she climbed the steps toward him. His eyes darting between hers as she slowly approached with her hands raised.
When she reached him, Thorin glanced down at her injured hand and let out a surprised breath. He gently reached out and took it, turning it over and studied her wrapped palm silently. After a few moments, Caithwistë stood on her toes to press a gentle kiss to his cheek and whisper in his ear. “If there is anything left of you, please remember that the ones you love need you now more than they ever have. Come back to us.” With that she turned and retreated back down the steps. “I am going to fight by Dáin’s side. Join us when you are ready.”
When she reached the bottom, she turned to look at him one last time. For a moment, it seemed as if he had heard her, but his expression quickly turned back to rage, and he stormed toward her with a new ferocity. “Go then, traitor!” He yelled, unsheathing his sword and swinging it wildly. “You have no place in my presence. Go!”
Caithwistë grimaced at his outburst. “Whatever resentment you harbor toward me, do not let it define you.” She concluded and turned on her heel to exit the room.
She greeted Dwalin at the door and he let out a sigh of relief. “What did he say? Will he come?”
“I do not know.” She said honestly.
Dwalin hung his head in grief and shot a glance back to the room. “Come on then, Lass. I will lead you back.”
“No Dwalin.” She said, stopping him in his tracks. “Thorin is still in there, I know it. There is nothing more that I can say but perhaps you can still reach him.”
Dwalin crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at her. “And what will you do?”
“I think you already know.” Caithwistë said, giving him a wink.
“Aye, I know.” Dwalin said with a nod. He gripped her shoulder tightly and added, “You take care of yourself now. We will see you soon.”
“I’ll try to leave you a few Orcs.” Caithwistë said with a laugh. She turned then and ran back to the barricade.
“My Uncle, is he coming to fight?” Kili asked as she ran up the steps to the platform.
“No Kili, not yet at least.” Caithwistë informed him and Kili’s face fell. “Do not worry, there is still hope.” She said as she moved toward the rope.
“Wait, where are you going?” Fili demanded.
Caithwistë turned and simply raised an eyebrow at him. “There are not many places to go from here are there?” She asked with a giggle.
“I’m coming with you.” Kili said, picking up his sword.
The rest of the Company cheered and began to gather their weapons but Caithwistë would not allow it. “Stop!” She commanded and they froze. “You will not follow me into battle. Thorin is your King and you swore an oath to him. You cannot abandon him now.”
“But what about you? You swore an oath to him as well!” Kili demanded.
“Yes, but I am no longer honor bound to follow his command.” The Company began to grumble at this and Caithwistë sighed. “Look, I know Thorin will come back and when he does, he will need every single one of you at his side. Please, do not give up on him.” She pleaded.
The Company glanced at each other, all taking in her words slowly. Finally, Balin spoke. “We will wait for him, Lass. But please do not get yourself killed out there.”
Caithwistë smiled, “The one goal I have had for my whole life is to stay alive.” With that, she gave them a quick bow and scrambled down the rope. She reached the ground again and moved forward, to battle. She was armed with her bow, her father’s dagger, Emel-o Orcrist and a fierce hope that her faith in Thorin was not misplaced.
Authors note: It was legitimately heartbreaking for me to make Caithwistë miss the moment when the Elves lept over the dwarves to lead the battle. I feel like it would have meant a lot to her, but this conversation needed to happen even more. *sigh* Also, idk if it makes a difference but I was listening to the song Gold Dust Woman from the Dishonored 2 soundtrack when I wrote this. Set a pretty good tone for it, especially when she enters Erebor!
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Elastic Heart - Part 19 - Battle Begins
Warnings: Fighting, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, ETC
Pairings: Hobbit X OFC; Thranduil X OFC; Fili X OFC; LOTR X OFC
A/N: Since Tumblr is Broke you’ll have to go to my master-list to find all the other parts.
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As a battle rages around me I look around to see all my friends fighting against the Orcs as one. Thranduil and Bard fight on in the city of Dale as the dwarves fight on upon the plains that lie before the mountain. I watch as Thorin, Kili, Dwalin, and Fili climb unto rams and head up to Ravenhill after Azog. I stare at them for a moment before I feel the scenery around me change. I look around to see ruins of an old watchtower and the smell of blood was thick on the air.
I see no one as I slowly walk along until I reach the top of the tower. I look down at the plains to see the dwarves and elves over powering the Orcs with help from the eagles and Beorn and smile. I hear something behind me and I turn to see Fili walking toward me a smile on his face. I smile back at him and as he reaches me I wrap my arms around him.
“I missed you.” I say to him but he doesn’t reply he just gently cups my face in his hands and gently places a kiss on my lips. I feel heat fill my body as my eyes close and our kiss is deepened. Suddenly he pulls away and I look into his eyes to see them slowly growing cold.
He looks down and I follow his gaze to see a sword plunged into his back. My eyes widen as I cry out in anguish. He turns away from me and I see Azog standing behind him. Fili stumbles and as I reach out to grab him he falls over the edge of the tower and tumbles to the ground. I stare wide eyed at his lifeless body before I look back to see Azog was gone.
I look around and see Kili fighting with Bolg to protect Tauriel when he is suddenly impaled as well. Tears pour from my eyes as I watch Tauriel fight against Bolg. I hear another cry and I turn to see Thorin being impaled by Azog and I cannot contain my sadness as I let out a ear piercing scream in pain.
I quickly make my way down the tower to Fili where I see Dwalin cradling him in his arms and my heart completely breaks. I reach up and clench the piece of hair that he had braided before I lean down in front of him and bury my face in his chest. I feel Dwalin’s hand gently touch the top of my head before he places his head on mine. I cry out into his chest, “Fili get up! Please I can’t do this without you! Get up!” I scream it over and over again until I feel myself being shaken awake.
“Randír!” Mahrie cries out as she shakes me. “Wake up!” My eyes widen as I jump awake. “Are you alright?” She asks as my eyes dart all around me finding anything to make me realize it was just a dream. “Randír!” she says as she smacks my cheek. I pause tears streaming from my eyes.
“I am sorry, I just had a nightmare.” I say as I reach up and gently wipe the tears away.
“I heard you screaming and came to check on you.”
“Thank you Mahrie, I didn’t wake Frieda did i?” I ask as I try to compose myself.
“Thankfully not, but I am worried about you. I know you have probably seen many horrors in your life but you mustn’t let them control you.”
I smile as I say, “You are right.” I slowly stand up and look around to see the sun about to creep over the ridge and I turn toward her and say, “When the chaos starts I want you to stay close to Frieda, and stay in the great hall. I won’t be able to protect you.”
She nods as she says, “Are you sure you’re ready to fight?”
I look down at my hands and remember Fili’s blood being on them in my dream and say, “I have to make sure my nightmare doesn’t come true. Thank you Mahrie,” I grab Ithildin and quickly make my way from their home to where they had roomed Bilbo. When I arrive I see him sneaking out and I smile as I sneak up behind him and poking him in the shoulder say, “Are you sure you won’t get caught?”
He jumps and I smile as he turns back to me and says, “It’s just you,”
I smile as I say, “I see you’re sneaking back to the mountain,”
“I am.”
“Can you do me a favor?”
He eyes me for a moment before he says, “What do you need?”
“Will you tell Fili, that I miss him and I will see him soon?”
Bilbo smiles as he says, “You really do care for him don’t you?”
I smile as I say, “This stays between us, but I love him. When this is all over I’ll follow him anywhere.”
He smiles as he says, “I knew there was something going on between the two of you. Fili’s lucky to have you.”
I smile and leaning down to hug him say, “Thank you Bilbo; now off with you. I’ll make sure no one realizes you’ve gone.”
“Thank you Randir,” He says as he turns an heads off toward the mountain.
I walk toward where Thranduil was camped and upon reaching it walk out onto the balcony that looked toward the mountain and smile as I say, “I will keep you alive, all of you.” I close my eyes and let my voice carry as I sing out an elven song about love and battle. I meant it to calm the people of Laketown and perhaps relax the elves but I had no idea it would give them the courage to fight. I glance behind me to see Thranduil and Bard staring at me and I smile as I say, “Shall we then?”
I watch as Bard mounts his white horse while Thranduil climbs up upon his massive Elk. Thranduil then turns to me and says, “Innas lle nor-yassen amin?” (Will you ride with me?)
I look toward the mountain before I turn back to him and say, “Amin innas,” He holds out his arm to me and I gulp down a breath of air before taking it and allowing him to pull me up onto the Elk behind him. We ride toward the gates until Thorin fires an arrow at the ground before us.
“I will put the next one between you eyes.” I hear Thorin call out and I grip tightly to the back of Thranduil’s robes. The dwarves start to holler in excitement until the Elves behind us draw their bows and aim toward them. I watch as they all go quiet and hide behind the stones. I tighten my grip on Thranduil and he instantly raises a hand stopping the elves from firing.
“We have come to tell you, payment of your debt has been offered and accepted.” Thranduil calls out and I slowly manage a quick glance toward the mountain as Thorin yell out, “What payment, I gave you nothing! You have nothing!” Thranduil turns toward Bard and I follow his gaze.
“We have this!” Bard says as he reaches into his into his pocket and pulls out the Arkenstone holding it up for all to see. I gulp down a breath as I once again look around Thranduil’s shoulder at the dwarves.
“That stone belongs to the king!” One of the dwarves cries out and Bard replies, “And the King may have it, with our goodwill. But first, he must honor his word.”
It is silent for a moment before Thorin cries out, “The Arkenstone is in the mountain, this is a trick!” he goes silent again and my heart drops as I realize Bilbo is telling him the truth. I quickly climb down off Thranduil’s Elk and standing between him and Bard I stare up at the gates.
“Throw him from the ramparts!” I Hear Thorin yell and my heart drops. I watch helplessly as Thorin tries to throw Bilbo over the edge until I hear Gandalf cry out, “If you don’t want my burglar them please don’t damage him. Return him to me.” I slowly turn toward Gandalf as he continues saying, “You’re not making a very splendid figure as king under the mountain are you Thorin son of Thrain.”
“Never again will I have dealings with Wizards, or Shire rats!” Thorin cries out and I turn to see Bilbo scrambling down the side of the gate toward the ground and I quickly make my way over to him.
“Are we come to terms? Will you have the Arkenstone for what was promised?” I hear Bard cry out from behind me as I help Bilbo. “Give us your answer. Will you have peace or war?”
I manage a glance back up the gate side as I wait for Bilbo. I silently pray that he takes the deal but I see a Raven fly up to him and know he will not. “I will have war!” he says as he turns to the east. I follow his gaze to see an army of Dwarves marching towards us. It is the Iron foot, distant relations of Thorin’s. “Ribo i thangail!” (Rush the Shield-fence) Thranduil cries out as he rides his Elk toward the front lines.
“Come along Bilbo!” I call out as I wait for him to hop over the large stones. I glance up to see Fili looking down at me with sadness in his eyes. I gently reach up and grabbing the braided piece of hair give him a reassuring smile. I watch as the side of his mouth tilts up momentarily before his attention is pulled away by his uncle.
Bilbo and I quickly make our way to Gandalf’s side as we all walk toward the dwarves. “Who is that? he doesn’t look too happy.” Bilbo says as I keep my eyes on the dwarf army.
“That is Dane, Lord of the Iron Hills, Thorin’s cousin.”
“Are they alike?”
“I’ve always found Thorin the more reasonable of the two.” Gandalf slowly looks down at Bilbo and I can already see that this wasn’t going to end well.
As Dane rides toward us upon a giant pig he says, “Good morning, how are you? I have a wee proposition if you don’t mind giving me a few minutes of your time. Would you consider just sodding off!” The people of Laketown flinch back at his sudden outburst but I remain firm. “All of you right now!”
“Stand fast!” Bard calls out and I gently place my hand upon Ithildin’s hilt ready for anything. “Come now Lord Dane!” I hear Gandalf cry out and I slowly turn toward him.
“Gandalf the Grey?” I hear Dane say and I listen carefully to their conversation. “Tell this rubble to leave or I’ll water the ground with their blood!”
“There is no need of war between Dwarves, man, and Elves. A legion of Orcs march on the mountain. Stand your army down!”
“I will not stand down before and Elf! Not least this faithless woodland sprite. He wishes nothing but ill upon my people. If he chooses to stand between me and my kin, I'll split his pretty head open! See if he's still smirking then.” I feel anger fill my chest as I grip tightly to Ithildin.
“He’s clearly mad, like his cousin!” Thranduil calls back to Dain.
“You hear that lads!” I hear Dain say but I don’t hear the rest as I feel something once again come over me.
“There are coming.” I say making everyone go silent around me even the Dwarves from the Iron Hills.
“When will they be here?” Gandalf says and my eyes jerk to the right as I say, “It’s too late, they are here!” As I finish speaking the earth starts to rumble beneath our feet. They follow my gaze and see the Were-Worms burst out of the ground like daisies.
“Oh, come on!” Dain cries out as his army quickly resituates itself against the Orcs. I glance toward Ravenhill and feel my heart drop. Azog was there just like in my dream. “The Hordes of Hell are upon us! To battle! To battle, sons of Durin!” Dain cries out again as the Orcs moves closer to them. I pull Ithildin from his sheath as I stroll up beside Dain and say, “If you’ll have me, I will fight with you.” He says nothing but nods in agreement.
I glance back to see the Elf army not moving as the Orc army is about to attack and hear Bilbo say, “The Elves, will they not fight?”
“Thranduil! This is madness!” Gandalf cries out and I slowly turn to Thranduil and give him a sad look. Then I turn back toward the Orcs and brace myself for their approach. As the Orc army is heading towards us suddenly the Elf army joins in the fight and starts attacking the Orc army with the Dwarf army joining them. I wave Ithildin around like crazy as I take out all the anger from my past out on them. I glance over to see part of the Orc Army start heading towards Dale and my face blanches.
“Azog. He's trying to cut us off.” Gandalf yells and my mind instantly goes to Frieda and Mahrie.
“All of you, fall back to Dale! Now!” Bard cries as he starts riding toward the city upon his white steed.
“To the city! People, this way!” Gandalf cries as he and Bilbo run toward the city with the people of Laketown close behind. As I fight I turn to see an Orcs running toward me but before it reaches me Thranduil brings his sword down slicing its head clean off its shoulders.
“Thranduil!” I cry as I turn over to him. “Please take your elves to Dale, I need you to make sure a little girl named Frieda and her mother Mahrie is safe; will you do that for me please?” He eyes me for a moment before he nods and rides off on his massive Elk toward Dale followed by a handful of Elves. “Thank you my friend.” I say before I quickly turn back to fighting.
The Dwarf army and I continue to fight the Orcs until I hear Dain cry out, “Thorin! Where's Thorin? We need him. Where is he?” I look back to the mountain before I turn and quickly decapitate a advancing Orc. We continue to fight until I hear Dain call again, “Fall back! Fall back! Back to the Mountain! Fall back! Hey you she elf fall back!” I quickly fall back until I am standing beside him behind a line of prepared dwarves.
I glance over at him and say, “He will come, Thorin will not abandon you.” He looks down and I see the doubt in his eyes as he nods slightly to me. I look back toward the Orc army as it moves forward to attack when suddenly I hear the horns of Erebor sound behind me. I hear a loud crash and turn to see a huge golden bell smash through the wall of the mountain. My heart lifts as I see Thorin and the rest of his company run out of the mountain and as they run past us toward the Orcs Dain cries out, “To the King! To the King!”
Will Continue -
#berjhawn#berjhawn writes#hobbit fanfiction#hobbit x oc#hobbit x reader#the hobbit#thranduil fanfiction#thranduil x ofc#thranduil x oc#Thranduil#fili x OC#fili x ofc#fili#fili fanfiction
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Courtesy of /u/ThoughtEater1:
The Big List of Racial Slurs
Anyone who isn't water breathing:
Landwalker
Drowner
Landdweller
Mouth-breather
Dwarves:
Beard-goblin
Flea-bearded alestain
Stunty
Pump Sucker
Stone shitter
half-sized alcoholic
Maggots (according to legend!)
rock eater
Stone Domes
Gutter Rats
Angry Footstool
Rockhead
Hairy Halfling
Tunnel Rat
Pubic Face
Cave Hippo
Oremonger
Bushies
Gut Draggers
Knoties
Lumberfoot
Half-Man
Gnomes
Spuds (Both are lumpy and come from the ground)
stunt
gold digger
dirt-licker
teapot
hammer midget
copper polisher
squash (look like squashed humans)
rock bitter
stone humper
hill/mountain/dirt fairy
keg belly
pyrite-muncher
giant snot
Hairy Brewery
Elves:
Leaf lickers
Butterboys
Dandelion Eater
Pointy ears
Knife-ears
Sharp ears
Chinfolk
Beardless
Pole-proportioned dendrophile
Fairy Folk
Drow (except to actual drow)
Pointy
Wood-Heads
Fancy Lad
Tree-thumpers
Dagger Head
Rabbit
Keeb
Leafblower
arrogant stuck up tree fondling hippies
tree hugger
pixie
bark sniffer
left handed casters
waste of immorality
fairy wannabes
tinkerbell
wedgie (they're uptight)
wingless fairy
light weights
mushroom dancers
faithless woodland sprite
dew drinker
fey mongrels
discount dryad
daisy sniffer
weed eater
bird boned
oozebait (especially elf children)
tree f*cker
Drow
murker
Underscum
Filth-Skin
Chimney Sweep
Cavemen
Ash-Face
tall dwarfs
dirt elves
moss licker
Spider Kisser
dwarven imposter
Anyone who isn't a drow:
Iblith (meaning excrement)
Half-Elves
By elves:
Mongrels
Bastards
Half Breed
Mudbloods
Half Bad
Mayfly Babies
By Humans:
Fling Kids
Traitor Babies
Half Good
Mutts
Mules
Not Enough
Halfways
Halflings
Hairy doorstop
Hill goblin
Hairless Dwarf
Leatherfoot
Children
Dwarfling
Gnome
Shaved Dwarf
Sneakies
Succling
Ankle Biter
Swine
Half men
Dire-Midget
Bilbo
Runt
Arm rest
sticky fingers
small fry
hobbit
shin licker
all-you-can-eat
fairy giant
Humans
Soft one (from lizardfolk)
Round ears
Pink Thing
Mayfly
Pinks
Dust
Spoon-Ears
Normie
Short-life
pink-skin
Joe Bloggs
generic protag #435 (if a PC)
Full-lings
Smoothskin
Succling
Swine
Quisling (a human who spends a lot of time around a dragonborn)
Dire Halfling
Lumberfoot
Pig Skin
Shortlived
Monkeys
Doubling (by Halflings)
World-blight (by elves)
Tree-killers (by elves)
Monkey
graceless elf
rabbit spawn (from the elf point of view because of how fast they seem to breed to them)
milkskins (orcs on humans)
whore-race (they're the reason for half breeds)
Cattle
Morties
roundteeth
Dragonborn
Lizard
Fly eater
Fake-drakes
Tall Kobold
Iguana Wannabe
Snakeskin
Wyrm Wannabe
Scalie
Boot
Scalebacks
Scales
Lizard Brain
Walking Purse
Skinks
Man-Eater
Lizardfolk
Forked-Tongues
dragon refuse
newt
Gecko
wyrm reject
overgrown iguana
For anyone who isn't a dragonborn:
maunthreki
Gnomes
Quarterling
KneeLicker
Mini-elf
Halfling
Mushroom sucker
Ankle Biter
Fat Fairy
Sniffers
Tinkertots
Lawn ornaments
Bug-Eyed Stumps
Shaved Hobgoblin
Glamer-slingers
Dwarflings
Trickster
discount dwarf
cone head
lawn darts
Half-orcs/orcs
Swampskin
Tusk-Face
Greenskins
Slimeskin
Dorc
Forc
Necro-Breath
Pig-Face
Tuskers
Grunt
Scumbreed
Halfbreed
Lumberfoot
The green beast (referring collectively)
Savages
green ape
broccoli head
ogre droppings
Tieflings
Devil spawn
Sideshow
Devil bastard
Hellspawn
Brighteyes
Gargoyles
Bullheads
Half-Hells
Pox
Demon Child
Handle Heads
Clip-Clops
Goat Face
Unloveables (from Demons)
Freak
Failbirth
Filth
Unbirth
Hell-touched
Tainted Ones
Tall Imps
Kenku
crow
raven
parrot (in tropical/port cities)
Flightless
Hollowbones
Noisemakers
Mockingbirds
Caw-Caws
Peckers
Copycats
Jabbers
Aasimar:
God's Pet
Goody Two Shoes
Wingless Earthbound bastard Half breed
Birdy
Chickenbrain
Chicken
Angel Face
Aarakocra
crow
raven
parrot (in tropical/port cities)
Hollowbones
Bird-Man
Pigeon
Caw-Caws
Kobolds
Scaly Gnomes
Little Lizardfolk
Yippers
Gnoll
hunger slave
mutt
cur
Dog
Carrion-eaters
Warforged
Rusties
clinking clanking clattering collection of caliginous junk
Dumbells
Hunk of Junk
Lemon
Golems
Walking talking tools
Dummies (as in training/target dummy)
Scarecrows
Dolls
Marionettes / Puppets
Made-to-Orders
Fakes / Facsimiles
Walking Casket
rust bucket
gear head
scrap heap
golem (they're living constructs)
robot
Genasi
Fire
Cold Heart
Matchstick
Hazard
Sunburn
Earth
Gravel bed
Sedimentary
Slabs
Air
Leaf Blower
Spark Plug
Unfavorable Fart (From Orcs. Orcs aren't great at throwing shade)
Windbags
Water
Algae Infested
Salty
Soakhead
Goblins
Greenskin
Gobber
Slimeskin
Trash Gnome
Orcslave
Toothpick-Nose
Tabaxi
Fleabag
Hairball
Cat
Worm farm
Triton
fish f*cker
Dolphin born
Wet blanket
Coral Eater
Firbolg
Giant Half-Breed
Overgrown Dwarf
Half-Baked Goliath
Goliath
Mini-Giant
Tribal Boy
Stoneskin
Centuars
Clippity-Clops
Horse Bastards
Half-Horses
Giants
Tumbletower ( tall like a tower, but more easy to knock down)
Nesthair (birds tend to nest in high places)
Indirect Racial Slurs:
*a dagger "a Gnome Greatsword"
*a bag of leftovers from a restaurant "an Orc-y Bag"
*the act of going barefoot "wearing Halfling Shoes" with signs in stores specifically forbidding halfling shoes
*happy endings at a massage parlor "Human Style"
*public drunkenness "going Dwarven"
*vegetables "Elf food"
*the bastard children of non-human races "Half-man"
*unshaven men "dwarf babies"
*whiskey "dwarf milk"
*barrels of whiskey "dwarven wetnurse"
*bad breath "dragonborn singing"
*pickpocketing "halfing handshake"
*picking a lock "banging a halfling's sister"
*stealing a horse "taking a half-orc bride"
*laying a dwarf or gnome "boulder rolling"
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“I will not stand down before any Elf. Not least this faithless Woodland sprite. He wishes nothing but ill upon my people. If he chooses to stand between me and my kin I'll split his pretty head open! See if he's still smirking then.”
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"pointy eared princess" "faithless woodland sprite" yeah, and?
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Let us never forget the moment in The Battle of the Five Armies when Dain called Thranduil pretty and for all the world it seemed like Thranduil was highkey genuinely smiling in response
Mind you, he probably hadn’t been called pretty in a long time seeing as how he basically isolated himself in his realm; so even if the compliment was from an enemy on the field, poor ‘Faithless Woodland Sprite’ was willing to take it
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hey hmu if you’re tall, beautiful, into nice jewellery, a bit emotionally blocked off, and a Faithless Woodland Sprite
(must also have or have had a fantastic elk)
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Talk shit about someone my Muse knows.
Glorfindel is weak. A dying flame of a forgotten age. Why do you pin your *faith* in him, Faithless Woodland Sprite? He will only disappoint you in the end...or die again, perhaps, like the fool he is. A fool who couldn't even think to tie his hair up...
He had been angered even from the first words that the other had spoken.
How any could call Glorfindel weak––him! Weak? After everything he had endured!––was beyond Thranduil’s comprehension. But then, they were quite clearly the words of a half-wit, and he was fully prepared to (icily) dismiss them as such.
U n t i l …
‘–– or die again, perhaps, like the fool he is. A fool who couldn’t even think to tie his hair up.’
Everything had happened very quickly after that, and not entirely of a conscious decision on his part.
One moment, he had been staring at the speaker in wide-eyed fury… and with the next, he had him at point of blade with nowhere to go for the stone wall behind him.
There is a gasp from somewhere behind him––Caranoreth, no doubt––and from the corner of his good eye, he can see the tension in Dimaethor’s stance.
He ignores them both for the moment, his icy gaze solely focused on the other.
“And you are a such as fool as thinks far too much of his own ill-formed and erroneous opinions, and far too little of what is prudent or true. A philosophy, I believe, you should r e t h i n k .”
Taking the blade away, still he steps closer, towering over the other.
“What do you know of Gondolin’s fall? Were you there? Did you know its panic and fury? Or how the blood ran through the city? How the enemy bore down upon them? Threw them from their own walls and slew them in their own streets?”
“––And tell me, Oh Wise One, would you have stopped to bind up your hair or don a helm if you knew that every moment would cost the life of a brother? Of a loved one?”
When no answer is given, the smile that appears is as cold and sharp as his blades, leaving no room for mistake as to the danger lurking behind it, the warning it gives.
“Yes. I thought as much. Now, leave my sight, before you say some other regrettable thing, and pray––to whomever you will, I know not, Faithless Woodland Sprite that I am––that our paths do not cross again this day. Be gone! ”
#|| there lived at this time their greatest king || { about thranduil }#// He was so MAD about this one#// He kind of still is xD
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"I am sorry that I made you a part of my perils..."
“You might be,” Glorfindel uttered, “but I am not. Since I met you, I saw a light in you. It is not a light that I wish to be extinguished.”
With that, the golden Lord dared to move closer, resting his chin lightly against the King’s shoulder. “If me being here beside you is able to make your life even a fraction better, heart-brother, then I do not regret it for a second. I do not regret any of the path we have travelled, though it twists and winds and frequently exposes us to trouble. Do not ever think that I do, ever.”
He is not certain why he had said it. Why he had apologized. After all, he does not simply apologize. Not to anyone. Not for anything.
However, after the most recent catastrophe barely averted––and neither of them emerging from it unscathed––the words had simply escaped. The words he had received in turn… he cannot believe them. A light? In him of all elves? No, a light there is in Legolas and in Celeborn and Galadriel and in Glorfindel himself. But a light within the Great Elven-king Thranduil, the faithless woodland sprite?
He simply cannot believe it…
And yet to say otherwise would be to call Glorfindel a liar, and he will not insult him in that manner. Not when Glorfindel is nothing if not honest almost to a fault.
Fortunately, he does not have reason or opportunity to decide upon a way to dance around his disbelief, to speak what he believes to be the truth. Instead, he is caught off guard by the other stepping closer and resting his chin on his shoulder.
He tenses at first, not quite having expected the action… but after a moment he relaxes, and that not completely unfamiliar feeling threatens to bubble to the surface again, the feeling that he has so long pushed down… But, perhaps if only a little, perhaps if only this once, he allows it.
He allows his mask to crack, his pretenses to fall away, with no one else to see it except for the one person he knows will not judge him for his moment of weakness.
Posture losing its usual rigidity, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before exhaling.
“I am… glad for your presence,” he says after several long moments.
From their first meeting when Thranduil had been angry at the world and ashamed of his scars and all but ready to give up on everything. When the other had pulled him back from the brink, reminded him that all was not lost, helped him to adjust… to now and every other time that he has almost lost himself to despair or to anger or to the winter that seems ever to lurk in his heart…
“Truly… You cannot know the difference you have made…”
Glorfindel held as close to Thranduil as he dared with him in such a state, pulling back only for a second to press a sweet kiss to his uninjured cheek, before resting his head back against his shoulder. One hand rubbed smooth and comforting circles at the elven monarch’s back. He felt a stirring of relief when those defences fell, and that stiffened posture finally relaxed. “I am glad that you are glad,” he murmured, giving a tiny laugh to ease away some more of that tension, “because I am not intending to go away any time soon. You are fortunate enough to have secured my presence for the rest of – well, our time here, in this forest. However long or not-so-long that might be.”
Beyond his laughter though, concern lingered and was not so easily pushed down and out of sight. Thranduil’s self-doubt often worried him, but not because he saw it as a weakness as his gwador perhaps himself did. It just hurt, and hurt to the core, to see him struggling so much with his demons, behind his smooth appearance and seemingly effortless mask.
The Woodland King’s next words stilled Glorfindel in his place, and he breathed a soft sigh, pulling back from the hold now to take Thranduil’s hands in his own. Very tenderly and softly, he raised Thranduil’s hand to his lips, another little familial kiss dotting the skin across the knuckles. “You give me too much credit.” His eyes sparkled, a slightly teasing smile tugging at his lips. “It was a hard thing to accomplish, the growth that you have shown in recent years and months. And, do you know this? It was all you. Truly, all of your development was your own doing. I merely provided a listening ear, a warm shoulder, and a comforting hand, for when you needed it.”
And that, he hoped, would always continue.
“You cannot hold me responsible for improvement that you have achieved. You have quite cast off the cloak of your father’s mistakes, and do not forget that! Never would Oropher have been so beloved by his people! Never would he have succeeded, I think, in leading them through the chaos you have lead them through.”
#|| there lived at this time their greatest king || { about thranduil }#// just a cute little thing#// from the old blog#ofcelandine#|| king of wood and stone || { threads; thranduil }
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