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bookworm-with-coffee · 10 months

Text

Softly. . .

(Kili x Reader)

(A/N); Hillooo!! Let's switch up the angst today, lovelies with more Kili love!! As always, enjoy!!

Plot; When Kili is dying and can't rely on Tauriel, who then can he count on?

Pairings; Kili x Reader (Romantic)

Warnings; long fic, blood/injury, mature themes, coarse language, violence, unrequited love, angst, eventual fluff

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Exhaustion burned like a sting through the muscles in your legs. Having travelled so far in the span of a day, the Company had made it from the stability provided by Beorn's home now to the depths of Mirkwood where the days seemed timeless and dark. Your own footsteps rang like a drum in your ears, the grip that an Elven soldier had on you was unyeilding.

Completely stripped of your outer layers and weaponry, you felt unbelievably helpless as you were marched along the winding bridges to perhaps a worser fate than death. You all didn't know.

"Tolo hí", a cocky Elf unwisely shoved Thorin towards a staircase, the King matching the taller male's glare. You angrily tried to shrug yourself from the grip of the soldier holding you, attempting to stick up for your Company's leader. The Dwarves shared your sentiment, Thorin waving all of you down before the fights could begin. You all weren't exactly in a position to stir trouble, after all. Things had to remain peaceful for good negotiations.

"Don't struggle. I will be back", he assured you all, his ocean gaze burning with surity before he ascended the steps to the throne room. The Elves forced you all onwards, your path leading you further down into the bowels of the city; the dungeons. The leader Legolas, he'd been named; scrutinized you with his harsh gaze, undoubtedly noting how you stood out like a sore thumb amongst the others of this Company. One human female and thirteen male Dwarves certainly made for an interesting travelling circus, in his eyes. Yet, you knew you were missing one more member of your group.

Bofur noticed Bilbo's disappearance first, always seeming to keep track of your whereabouts as much as the missing Hobbit's. You all declined to mention your lost fifteenth member of the Company, trying to avoid making it known that you were seeking him out hopefully. Some part of your heart screamed to you that he was already here, that he hadn't abandoned you all. He would rescue you all soon, you were sure of it.

The Elves finally made their stop, the soldier that held you releasing the hard hold he had on your arm. You were sure you would have bruising later. Your captors began to lead your group in pairs or singles up and down stairs, completely separating you all. Balin turned to you, attempting to offer you assurance with a steady smile and a glance that told you, everything will be fine. You hoped so as you were finally lead away from the older Dwarf with Bofur. Worry flashed in Fili and Kili's eyes as you ascended stairs to your right with your cellmate, the brothers both having some level of protectiveness over you.

The cells were small with no chairs or any form of comfort, only the cold floor to sit on. While trudging forwards, you were suddenly shoved into the small room behind Bofur, crashing into him and hitting the floor. "Oh, shit!", you hissed, rubbing at your head and helping him to his feet.

"Are ye alright, Love?", he asked, wholeheartedly unconcerned with himself. His hand moved your own to check for any blood or wounds that the fall may have given you, finally sighing in relief. "You'll be fine". Patting your shoulder, he moved past you to look through the bars of the now locked door. He gripped the bars, much like the others had started doing. All of the Dwarves, save for Balin, kicked and threw themselves desperately at the bars in their attempt to dent or break them. The metal was completely reinforced, the Dwarves risking harm to themselves more than their cell bars.

"It's no use!", Balin shouted. "This is no Orc prison. These are the dungeons of the Woodland Realm!". Dejected, everyone dropped to the floor, inclusive of yourself. Balin was right. There was no escaping unless Thorin could strike a deal with the Elven King, Thranduil. An agitated roar left Dwalin's throat, punching the bars before throwing himself down as well. You would all have to sit this out and wait.

Turning your head to your right, you gazed down at the other cells. Kili's cell with Fili's above his, Ori and Dori together to his left, Balin to his right. Nori was probably further up from Kili. Dwalin's cell was behind yours, meaning Gloin and Oin were probably in the cell beneath your own. Bifur had been locked with Bombur in the cell by the staircase you'd climbed. They were the first to be locked up.

Gnawing on your lower lip, you found your gaze landing on Kili. He was your closest friend and the one you worried for the most. This quest had been costing on you both, mentally and physically so. But, you'd found comfort in each other.

On the days when it rained, the young Prince was always there to tell a joke that reminded you of sunshine. When you were cold, he would offer you his strong and heated arms. Kili had already saved your life numerous times, always throwing himself in harm's way just to protect you.

In the late hours of the night, you'd offer solace to the homesick Prince who often dreamed of his mother and home in the Blue Mountains. It was in these quiet hours when he was unafraid to open himself to you. Sometimes you'd spar and train with him to give him relief from his restlessness, participate in pranks or tell him stories of your homeland if he was down. Your bedroll was always beside his leaving the Company to speculate on your relationship with Kili.

There was nothing to tell, to your disappointment. Kili had admitted no feelings for you and vice versa. Some part of you feared losing the fierce friendship and bond with him, should he know the truth and not feel the same. Your feelings for the Dwarf were obvious to everyone, even to Fili, who had become like a protective older brother to you. Yet, they were not obvious to the one who held your affections.

Your head turned to find Bofur's gaze already on you, an amused grin splayed on his expression. He sat with his back against the opposite wall, his brows risen suggestively. "What?", you sputtered, feigning innocence.

"Am I supposed t' act like I don't know who yer' starin' at or what?". He laughed softly, folding his arms with a shake of his head. A flush of heat hit your cheeks in embarrassment. "You've got it bad, Love".

"Got what?".

"The love bug", he shrugged. "You're in love–".

"Don't say it any louder!", you hissed, a few giggles escaping the Dwarf.

"I don't know how long it's been since I first noticed it, but I've known for a long time now", he confessed, your head dipping in further abashment. "And there's no shame in it". Bofur nudged your leg with his foot, offering you a kind smile when your eyes lifted again to meet his own.

"Does Thorin know?".

"He'd have t' be deaf, blind and stupid not t', Love", Bofur guffawed.

"Oh dear", you groaned, hiding your face in your hands.

"Fili knows". Your eyes widened in shock, peeking through the splits in your fingers at the dark haired Dwarf. Thinking it best to be honest, he continued, "In fact, I don't think there's a soul amongst us, save for Kili himself, that doesn't know about this. Sorry, Lass".

"And you thought of telling me when??", you gaped.

"When Dwalin would finally be at snapping point at yer lovesick bantering", he laughed. "Which surprisingly, he hasn't reached yet". You groaned again in your shame, too embarrassed to show your face. " 'Ey". He nudged your leg again. "Don't be ashamed. Dwalin is a patient Dwarf, as are we all. We understand". Your calf being the only thing he could grip from where he sat, Bofur began to caress it to try and soothe you. "Jus' be thankful yer' not sharing yer cell with Dwalin right now".

Your hands fell from your face whilst you giggled, the both of you finding humour in his additional statement. "I'm in the next cell, not deaf, Bofur", a grumble followed quietly.

"Aye. Noted. Sorry!", he called back softly, the both of you lapsing again into a short fit of shared laughter. You realized it was his aim all along. With gratitude shining in your gaze, you inclined your head to your cellmate.

"Thanks, Bofur". Tipping his hat, he grinned with immeasurable mirth,

"Yer' always much welcome, Lass".

The wait for Thorin's return began. Or to be rescued by Bilbo, whichever first. Hours, perhaps even days were passing. You didn't know. The dungeons of the Woodland Realm fell silent for some time, your eyes coming to close. Cheerful music and voices softly began to pour down from the upper levels, almost lulling you asleep with its beauty. Your stomach growled painfully, reminding you that you hadn't eaten since Beorn's. Footsteps descending from the throne room caught your immediate attention, however. Your brows rose, peering from the bars of your prison cell as the familiar figure of the redheaded Captain of the Guard, Tauriel made her way past your cell before travelling downward. Patrolling. Kili had occupied himself with something and it was clear that the pointy-eared bitch couldn't keep her nose out of his business.

"The stone in your hand", she whispered sternly. "What is it?". Was nothing sacred?? Could he not have something in his possession??

Your chest puffed out, ready to tell her to leave and mind her business when Kili finally replied, "It is a talisman". This caught your curiosity as well as Tauriel's. "A powerful spell lies upon it. If any but a Dwarf read the runes on this stone, they will be forever cursed! ", he spat, forcing her to gaze at the dark object. Good job, Kili. You relished in her shock, relaxing as she finally seemed to be leaving. "Or not". Your mouth fell open. What was he doing?? She was your enemy! Tauriel backtracked her steps, returning to Kili's cell. "Depending on whether or not you believe in that kind of thing, it's just a token", he shrugged, a soft laugh escaping him. It seemed as if Tauriel was smiling as well. "A rune stone. My mother gave it to me so that I'd remember my promise".

"What promise?".

"That I will come back to her", Kili smiled, your heart burning with envy at the kindness he shared with her. Never in all the nights you'd spent in his company, had the Princeling shared this special rune stone with you, nor its backstory. Not that it was anyone's business, of course. But, you now found yourself wishing that he had shared something this intimate and unique with you. "She worries. She thinks I'm wreckless", he continued with a sigh.

"And are you?", Tauriel failed to fight her smile, clearly enjoying her time with the Prince.

"Nah". When throwing the stone again, however, it slipped from his grip. It skidded out of his cell and under her boot. You'd tensed, worried that it would've fallen into the nearby chasm. Now it was in her possession and she'd confiscate it for sure. Her nimble fingers held it into the dim light, looking over the intricate runes that covered the small stone. Kili had stood, worrying over the stone the way you had. "It's quite the party you're having up there", he mused, trying to draw her attention from the stone.

"It is Mereth en-Gilith", she replied. "The Feast of Starlight. All light is sacred to the Eldar, but Wood Elves love best the light of the stars".

"I always thought it is a cold light, so remote and far away", he confessed. Incredulously, she whispered,

"It is memory! Precious and pure!". Her turquoise eyes fell to the dark stone occupying her palm. "Like that promise". Reaching it forwards, she allowed Kili to take it back. "I have walked there sometimes", she added, gathering his undivided attention. "Above the forest and up into the night. I have seen the world fall away and the white light of forever fill the air".

Looking down at the Prince, he seemed effortlessly taken by her. His hazel orbs were glittering in awe, his lips parted in a state of wonder. And could he be blamed?? Tauriel had pure, creamy skin, unblemished and ageless with the beauty of the Elves. Long, thick tresses and a graceful air about her. She's a far more skilled warrior than yourself, which Kili also seemed to admire.

"I saw a Fire Moon once". Another story he'd failed to share with you, intriguing the Elf in his presence further. His smile grew as he leant against the bars. "It rose over the pass near Dunland. Huge! Red and gold it was as it filled the sky". Tauriel sat by the stairs of Kili's cell, intently listening to his story the way you would have. "We were an escort for some merchants of Ered Luin. They were trading in silverware for furs. We took the green way south, keeping the mountains to our left. And there up ahead, this huge Fire Moon lighting our path. I wish I could show you".

Some part of you knew and berated you for not seeing this coming. Perhaps it was blissful ignorance? Or misplaced complacency in your heart?? Kili always had a predisposition of curiosity towards the Elves, having shamelessly flirted with one of them in Rivendell and admitting, accidentally to his humiliation, that he found one of their males attractive. So, what chance did you stand against them?? None.

Dejectedly, your head hit the rough wall behind you, their shared laughter and conversations bitterly reminding you that you never did stand a chance to begin with. It was clear that your feelings for the Prince weren't returned. Only now was it plain for you to see. Hating the way jealousy's unkind flames wreaked havoc within your mind, tears began to burn in your eyes without forgiveness. With a sigh, your face suddenly crumpled and your shoulders shook, sobs wracking your body. Bofur heard your silent sniffles, being the light sleeper that he was. "Hey!", his voice cooed to you softly, instantly waking from his daze. "What's goin' on??". Your throat felt tight, your heart aching painfully within your chest. Desperately, you wiped at your eyes, the kind Dwarf moving to sit on your left. He needed only to look through the cage bars to realise what ailed you. His gaze softened, surprised at this revelation. However, it didn't stop his warm arms from circling you. Your head fell into the crook of his neck, safe from the negativities of the world. Bofur's large hands worked comforting caresses on your back and shoulders. "There, there now", he hushed you. "There, there. I've got ye".

"It hurts, Bofur", you wept. Part of his heart broke hearing those words, knowing that no joke he could offer you now would make it better. He felt useless.

"I know", he whispered. "I know it hurts". Bofur's heated arms tightened their embrace, some part of him hoping that they would help remove the pain. "He didn't know how ye felt for him. And as far as I'm concerned,—", he wiped at your face. "— he's an idiot for not bein' in love with ye instead of that daft Elf maid". You chuckled bitterly,

"She's hardly daft. She's beautiful".

"Perhaps on the outside", he conceded. "But, if Kili can't see the beauty that's both outside and within yerself, don't waste time pursuing the heart that clearly isn't yours". You knew what he was implying and the thought of disregarding your feelings for the Prince horrified you.

"It's not some simple fixation, Bofur! I love him!", you sighed hopelessly. "It's not easy to let go of someone you–". He nodded in understanding. You felt connected so deeply with Kili, you were sure that the concept of soulmates existed. You'd never felt anything like this before. And now, every part of you felt like that connection was being torn away. It was agony.

"Whatever ye decide, I only hope as yer friend that ye choose your happiness above all else. Even if it's hard". You nodded. "I'm here for ye, Lass. We all are, remember that".

Sleep eventually took you within Bofur's embrace, the kind Dwarf refusing to let you go. Despite no romantic attraction to you, he still valued your happiness and everyone else's. You were exhausted, in desperate need of food and sleep. Even if it was a tad of rest, he'd still help you get it with a bit of comfort.

The wait to be rescued continued for some hours thereafter, Tauriel finally leaving to join the festivities above. Marching footsteps thundered through the halls, startling you awake. Thorin was back, at last. Alive and unscathed to your relief.

"Did he offer you a deal?", Balin's voice called out, all of you eager to listen.

"He did", Thorin replied, his voice growing to a yell that echoed through the very heart of the Woodland Realm. "I told him he can go ishkh khakfe andu null!! Him and all his kin!!". The white haired Dwarf sighed through his nostrils in exasperation, shaking his head.

"Well, that's that, then", he huffed. "That deal was our only hope".

"Not our only hope", the King shot back, his eyes glimmering with the same hopes in all your hearts. He too had faith Bilbo would return.

The Hobbit wasn't too far away, having already infiltrated the kingdom using the Ring that not one of you knew about. It had saved him from the Goblins and he'd use it to save you all too. Bilbo's steps were invisible and silent when he descended into the bowels of Mirkwood. He'd cautiously followed the Elf that bore the prison keys, marking his patrols. The wine cellar was where most of the guards seemed to be. They spoke of the festivities above, the keeper of the keys not willing to forsake his duties. "They're locked up!", the others insisted, snatching the keys to hang them on a hook. "Where can they go?". Bilbo smiled. If only they knew..

"I'll wager the sun is on the rise", Bofur ground out beside you. "Must be nearly dawn".

"We're never going to reach the mountain, are we?", Ori's faint sigh echoed. Your heart sank for the Company. You'd been enlisted to help them, but there was naught left that even you could do for them now. Fili stomped in frustration, throwing himself on the floor.

"Not locked in here, you're not", the familiar voice of Bilbo rang out. You felt as if you'd waited forever to hear those words, relieved to see your friend alive.

"Bilbo!", you gasped, clawing at the bars with a grin.

"Bilbo!!", the others began to shout happily, collectively overjoyed to see the Hobbit as well.

"Shh!! There are guards nearby!!", he hissed, starting with Thorin and Balin's cells, working his way upwards. He worked his way along with Fili, Ori and Dori, Oin and Gloin, Kili, followed by Bifur and Bombur.

Finally, he reached your cage. Once the door swung open, the Hobbit was in your arms, happily embracing you back. "I'm so glad you're alright!", you laughed ecstatically.

"Same with you!", he assured, breaking from you with a grin to continue on his way to let out Dwalin and Nori. Bofur lead you down the steps, Kili seemingly waiting for you by the bottom, relieved to see you again. The sentiment wasn't shared. A flush of resentment had filled your heart, your brows creasing at the Prince.

"Are you alright, (Y/n)?". His question fell on deaf ears. Noting your short-sleeved tunic, he continued, "You're looking cold. Here, I'll–".

"Just leave me alone", your words were a sharp grumble, your eyes unusually apathetic. You moved past the Prince as if he were nothing. Hurt and confusion flashed through Kili's eyes whilst he watched your retreating figure, his hand slowly dropping to his side.

Various members of the Company, noteably Thorin, Balin and Fili; onlooked in shared confusion at your uncharacteristic behaviour. Had something happened??

Dwalin clapped Kili's shoulder in passing, drawing the Princeling back to focus. He quickly followed his gathering kin at the top of a stairwell with varying routes. "Not that way!", Bilbo's call was still a whisper, leading you all onto one of the others that lead downwards instead. "Down here! Follow me!!".

Freedom, you thought. You all followed close behind the Hobbit, confident in his plan of escape. Strangely, he seemed to know where he was going. Or so you thought until you reached what looked to be a wine cellar. The sounds of snores reached your ears as you descended the last steps to your destination. A group of intoxicated Elves were resting their heads on a table, completely ignoring their guard duties. Having followed Bilbo down first, Kili growled, "I don't believe this– we're in the cellars!!". Bofur followed after,

"Yer' supposed t' be leadin' us out, not further in!!".

"I know what I'm doing—", Bilbo tried to respond, Bofur cutting in,

"Shh!!", holding a finger over his mouth. The Dwarves all filed in ahead of you, Dori and Dwalin flanking you protectively out of instinct. From where he stood with his brother, Kili eyed you with a pensive gaze, his strong brows knitted together in concern.

"Everyone! Quickly! Climb into the barrels now!", Bilbo's orders were hushed, his eyes desperate. He had a plan. That much you could tell.

"Are you mad?!", Dwalin hissed. "They'll find us!!".

"No, they won't! They won't! Please, please, you must trust me!". Following his words, you watched then as Bilbo turned to Thorin with a pleading gaze.

"Do as he says", the King whispered. Instantly, everyone began to climb into the barrels, even Thorin himself. Only, there were two problems. One, there weren't enough barrels for you to join the Dwarves. Two, you would surely be too big for a barrel. Thirteen concerned sets of eyes caught onto that situation rather quickly, various whispers of,

"What about (Y/n)?", "She needs somewhere to hide too!!", "Where can she go??", filling the room.

"Calm down!", the burglar begged quietly. "Let me think!!".

"No time!", you insisted. "I'll have to go without". Whispers of protest rang out from the Dwarves, not satisfied with your situation.

"For the love of Mahal, (Y/n)! Don't be a fool!", Fili chided.

"Climb in my barrel?", Kili offered hesitantly, your brief harshness towards him being forgotten in his concern for your safety. Bofur's head snapped towards him with an expression that read, 'Really?? After the damage you've done?'.

"I will not risk your safety", Thorin interluded, your gaze falling to the leader you respected so much. "There's no time. Climb in with Kili". Your previous resentment towards the younger Prince was already gone. And despite your hurting heart, all you truly wanted for Kili now was for him to be happy, even if it was without you.

Climbing up, you slipped quickly into the warm alcove of the Princeling's barrel. It was a tight squeeze, but you managed to fit everything under your shoulders into it. "Are you comfortable?", Kili's voice was a gentle calm, his hot breaths fanning over your face.

"I'm fine", you matched his hushed tone, your body slowly warming in the close proximity you shared. Little did you know, you'd be needing it..

Now satisfied with your situation, the Dwarves all stuck their heads out. "What do we do now?", Bofur asked.

"Hold your breath", was the only response you received from the Hobbit before he pulled a wooden lever.

"Hold our breath??", Bofur sputtered. You all then realised what was coming. The ground tilted up, gravity seeming to change for you and the Dwarves. A set of strong arms held you in the form of a brace as the barrel you were in spindled and became weightless. Everyone cried out, falling for what felt like an eternity.

Water suddenly submerged you all, cold and biting against your skin. Once hitting the surface, you gasped for air as every limb fell into a state of shock. "Breathe", Kili's instructions barely registered, your nose burning and head buzzing. He gazed up at you, attempting to warm your face and arms with his heated hands.

"Where's Bilbo?", Bofur's head bounced from the water. Despite the chattering of your teeth, you smiled amusedly,

"He forgot himself". Thorin followed in your amusement with a smile of his own,

"Give him a moment". A moment was all the Hobbit needed, falling stiffly with a scream into the waters by Nori's barrel. The tri-haired Dwarf hauled Bilbo against his barrel, getting him to hold on for the journey ahead. "Well done, Master Baggins", the King commended proudly. It was much deserved. Still being the humble burglar he was, Bilbo waved the act off as if it was nothing. Thorin began to motion everyone along. "Come on! Let's go!".

The barrel you shared with Kili had become uncomfortable as it tipped forwards, your bodies squishing together. In any other instance, you'd crave this contact. Yet now, it was painful for more than one reason. Both of you used an arm each, dipping them into the numbingly cold water to row your barrels along. Sunlight poured in from the end of the cave's tunnel, the water seeming to give you speed in its new flow. You soon realised why. "Hold on!", you shrieked, the barrel cascading forwards into ferocious rapids. The current carried you all forwards and down the river effortlessly, the coldness having been briefly forgotten in your adrenaline. The Company's escape was brilliantly carried out. All you needed to do was leave Mirkwood to the lands beyond. It seemed so simple until a horn's cry pierced the air. You'd all been caught!

Fear leapt into your throat whilst you all rounded a corner, thrown forwards again to see Elven soldiers closing the gates of the river. "NO!!", Thorin exclaimed, his barrel being the first to reach the now closed door before you all followed after. Freedom seemed more further away now than it had ever been. And it was only going to get worse. Orcs had now made their appearance, slaughtering the Elves that were preventing your escape.

"Watch out!!", Bofur shouted. "There's Orcs!!". Corpses of both Elvenkind and Orc fell into the waters, all of them battling furiously amongst themselves. Kili had forced you to crouch uncomfortably, your legs burning at the tightness of the squeeze. He was aiming to protect you from the flying arrows and falling bodies, bracing you. His hazel eyes travelled to your own, clouded with fear. You'd never seen him so afraid, your hand subconsciously reaching for his.

"Slay them all!!", a foul voice ordered in the words of Black Speech. This was not Azog's voice, but one just as hideous. You decided to release yourself from the brace, standing straight with Kili to fight the Orcs that leapt into the water. Your heart raced, pounding within the confines of your chest. You all needed to get out of here. There had to be a way out. And that's when it came to you. The lever! You climbed out of the barrel, Kili shouting your name in protest whilst you waded in the freezing waters to the stairs of the wall. The sunkissed concrete instantly warmed your numb limbs whilst you clambered up the steps. It was so relieving to feel the warmth beneath your palms, that you dreaded eventually having to go back into the freezing waters below.

You dodged a blade slicing down towards you, rolling to the side and onto your back. Darting your foot upwards at the Orc who had tried to end you, it fell from the wall and to the forests below. Scrambling to your feet, you raced forwards across the wall. "Kili!!", Dwalin shouted, your head snapping in the direction of the call. The Prince had followed you onto the wall, catching the blade that Dwalin had tossed him. He used it to slay the Orc that had tried to pursue you to the lever. You hadn't realised either the creature or Kili's presence, grateful that he'd flanked your back. Fili always kept one eye on his brother, even when they weren't side by side. He threw blades into the Orcs that tried to overpower Kili in his attempts to protect you. Bolg had seen your motives of escape, noting that you had no weapons or the like. He had to stop you now if he ever wished to end Thorin and his kin here. Kili saw the hideous Orc arming his bow, his eyes blowing wide in horror as you fought your way through the carnage, unaware of the threat. His feet hit the ground in a dead sprint, slicing through the Orcs in his path like butter.

"(Y/n)!!", his throat burned with his scream. His heartbeat thundered in his ears deafeningly, finally catching your steps. The arrow flew, hitting flesh. You'd fallen to the floor with a yell, Kili crashing on top of you with a shout of his own. Your back ached from the impact, Kili's palms stinging from grazing the concrete.

"Kili??", you breathed, your brows furrowing in concern and confusion at his actions. Why had he stopped you?? The Prince's expression of shock fell suddenly into a pained grimace, your eyes drifting downwards to see the obscenely large arrow that had impaled his knee. "Kili!", your panicked cry left your throat raw. Bolg grinned in a sense of victory, having hit at least one target. Fili's head snapped upwards at your scream, spotting his brother's ailments with terror,

"Kili!!". The young Prince ground out a yell between his teeth, feeling the stinging sensation of blood dripping from the malicious wound. The sensation was unlike any pain he'd felt before, burning within his blood like a disease. What had he been pierced with?? He suddenly fell back with a scream, your figure quickly entering his vision. Kili's brows creased, his eyes fixed on you whilst he panted erratic breaths. His hand grasped the one you'd offered him with an almost painful grip, his eyes suddenly darting to his right. Tauriel broke through the woods, slashing and firing arrows with a graceful precision. "Kill her!!", Bolg shrieked. "Kill the She-Elf!!".

Kili's lips had parted, entirely enamoured by her presence. Not allowing your resentment to cloud your judgement, your hand broke from the Princeling's grip, hurrying to instead pull the lever down for the Company to escape. "We need to get out of here!", you yelled, Kili nodding in agreement. Without thinking, he slid forwards, his legs dangling above the barrel you'd shared. Both you and Fili saw this as a bad idea.

"Kili!!", Fili exclaimed.

"Wait!! I'll remove it!!—", Kili's cry of agony cut you off as he slid into the barrel, the arrow snapping painfully from his leg.

"Shit!", you cursed, leaping into the freezing waters without a thought, clinging to the barrel that Kili was in. Alike to Bilbo, you'd have to hold on externally. And it would be no easy feat. The rapids bashed at your face constantly, submerging you in its chaotic stream as it went. You were gasping for air whenever you could manage it, the water painfully blurring your vision and disorienting you. The grip you had on Kili's barrel was starting to wane, his hands gripping onto your arms. The water settled eventually from rapids to a speedy and winding current, no longer depriving you of sight and air.

From your view in the river, you'd spied Fili, Dwalin and Thorin using the Orcs' weapons against them, lopping down the branches they stood on and bashing the ones that tried to attack them from the banks of the river's flow. Legolas had joined the fight, using every resource in his surroundings, inclusive of the Dwarves' heads as he leapt from one side of the water to the other. In any other situation, you would've laughed at the expressions of Dwalin and Dori as they both were stepped on first, followed by the others who didn't seem to enjoy it either. The blonde Elf used the sword that had belonged to Thorin. Orcrist. It seemed wrong in the hands of Legolas, but he used it to a valuable advantage against your shared enemies. Thorin had even graciously covered for the Elf whilst he fought, ensuring no untimely demise met him. It was more than he deserved for the way he treated you all, yet you couldn't help that Thranduil would see it as a token of friendship at some eventuality. For now, you all had gotten away. The Elves had given up their pursuit of you to instead drive out the Orcs, a bigger threat. The Orcs still were on the hunt for you all, but it would take some time for them to catch up.

The river slowed, all of you able to clamber from the barrels and onto the rocky shores of the land once more. Your legs shook when you finally stood on them again after your large dose of adrenaline and cold. Stumbling forwards, you couldn't feel your hands, now so cold that they were stinging in the fingertips. The cool air blowing from the mountains nearby had goosebumps rising in every pore of your skin, your teeth chattering with the damp cold that enveloped you. However, your gaze focused on only one person, a trail of red water following behind him as he limped onto dry land to sit on a boulder for support. Concern, fear and anger rippled through every ounce of your blood like a wildfire, helping you forget the cold. You marched towards Kili, his face screwed in pain as he tried to wipe his wound clean. Bofur had stood near him, his eyes lit with the same concern as yours. Kili had spied his gaze first. "I'm fine", he snapped. "It's nothing". You wordlessly knelt by him, attempting to inspect the wound when he noticed you and swatted you away. "Don't". His harsh tone caught you offguard, your brows raising in challenge. "I'll be fine". Despite his confidence in saying it, not even he had full belief that his words were the truth.

"Let me see it", your voice was a terrifying calm, your gaze showing the emotions simmering beneath the surface. Your eyes met the Prince's in a silent battle of wits, his brows creased in an anger to combat your own.

"I said it was nothing—". Your hand pried his away from the wound, feeling the nausea beginning to creep up. The wound was deep, perhaps to the bone, and was bleeding openly. Bruising had already strangely appeared around the cut and it seemed horribly inflamed for a simple arrow wound. Kili spied your eyes brimming with tears, his blood running cold with remorse.

"Kili", you sighed beneath your breath.

"I've had worse. Really—", he tried gently, your head shaking.

"You need a healer. You need proper medical help".

"(Y/n), it's just a little cut!", he downplayed it with a frustrated edge to his voice. "Stop being so overdramatic!".

"You want me to stop being concerned for you?? Then maybe stop endangering yourself for once!!", your words shattered the air, shocking everyone in the Company. Kili's eyes flickered sadly from your own. "Better that the arrow really had hit me instead of you!". Anger flashed in the Princeling's gaze.

"Oh really? And why is that??".

"It would've been better than listening to your bullshit", you huffed, storming away from the stubborn Prince. Kili's head slumped, his face screwed up in a glower. Dismissing the tone you'd taken with his nephew, Thorin had established that you were all to leave promptly after Kili's wound was to be bound, Fili taking it upon himself to tend to his brother's leg.

"She's angry with me", Kili mumbled beneath his breath, his hazel eyes lingering where you sat with Ori. Fili almost laughed, his amusement twitching his smile.

"She is", he agreed, squeezing out the blooded cloth he was using for the wound. Ocean orbs flickered up to his brother's melancholy expression. "It's what caring for a person entails, Kee".

"She's been different to me. Distanced", the younger Prince continued with a sigh. "She does not look at me the same. Mirkwood has changed her".

"Maybe", Dwalin mused, catching onto the conversation. "Or perhaps she saw y' gettin' friendly with that Elf maid?". Kili's brows furrowed in confusion, turning his gaze to the older Dwarf.

"Why would that bother her??". Shrugging, Dwalin responded,

"If y' don't know by now, ye never will, Laddie". Know what? , Kili's mind echoed, his eyes closing from exasperation. He had not the energy to ask. The Prince only hoped that you'd be willing to talk to him again as you once did. Whenever that may be.

"I'm absolutely drenched", Ori groaned in irritation, pouring the water from his boot.

"Think about me. I'm human. Not a short, walking furnace like yourself". The younger Dwarf spared a laugh despite his misery. Sensing a pair of eyes on your back, you turned to find a man standing on the hill above. His bow was drawn, aimed for you and Ori. Instantly, you covered the smaller Dwarf with yourself, Dwalin leaping down from where he stood to protect you. The older Dwarf held a large branch for a makeshift weapon and shield, baring his teeth like an animal defending its young. The Company became highly strung, Kili standing to his feet without a care. The stranger fired an arrow at Dwalin's branch, already anticipating the Princeling's next move and firing an arrow at him as well. The second arrow bounced from the stone Kili had attempted to throw, the Prince's eyes wide in surprise.

"Do it again and you're dead", the man spat, his resolve showing in the threatening tone of his voice. He had armed his bow with a third arrow, everyone's hands raising in a form of surrender. Balin stepped forth.

"You're from Laketown, if I'm not mistaken?". The bow was instantly aimed for the cheerful Dwarf, his feet coming to a halt out of caution. "That barge over there. It wouldn't be for hire by any chance?". The stranger's brows creased, his weapon slowly being withdrawn.

"And what makes you think that I would help you?". The stranger gladly took the barrels you all had used, loading them into the boat with the others he had. Balin was the negotiator, offering every reason for this stranger to give refuge to and accept payment from you all. The man's coat, his three children and wife. To your surprise, the man was a widower. Alike to Balin, you felt the same remorse and shame creeping into your heart at these findings. A single father trying to raise his three children alone in a barren town of ice, water and poverty. You could see why he was cautious of you all.

"Oh, come on. Come on, enough of the niceties", Dwalin finally grunted.

"What's your hurry?", the bargeman shot back.

"What's it to you?".

"I would like to know who you are". His brown hues crossed over you all, lingering on you for a brief moment. "And what you are doing in these lands".

"We are just simple merchants from the Blue Mountains, journeying to see our kin in the Iron Hills". A lie from Balin, but a well told lie. The bargeman had no reason to believe him and he most likely didn't, his eyes crossing over you again.

"And what about you?", he asked, directing his attention to the one who stood out the most. Female and human in a troupe of male Dwarves. It was a very uncommon sight indeed. "What's your story?".

"It's none of your business", Kili snapped.

"I don't believe I was asking you".

"This is my family", you replied, gathering the archer's attention wholeheartedly. The Dwarves felt some part of their hearts warming at the thought of you considering them family. You'd spent many months with them, lived through many hardships and they knew that you'd meant your words. It showed in your eyes. The stranger's brows rose, an amused smile playing on his lips,

"Thirteen Dwarves is quite an unusual family for a human, wouldn't you think?".

"Hardly", you replied, continuing Balin's lie with more truths of your own. "We've been through the worst together. I love them. And I would be prepared to give my all to see our kin again". The bargeman saw the truth of your words in your keen gaze, but his instincts were calling to him.

"Are you certain that you not a Ranger of the wilds, baring the gifts of your true kin??". Your expression remained neutral. How had he known??

"My true kin??".

"Your sharp senses. You heard my coming before that of your family. And you bare the mark of Ithilien on your leather boots. A tree crowned with six stars and a crescent moon". Your silence was answer enough for the bowman, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. He was a harder man to fool than you'd first presumed. His eyes flickered to Balin with a knowing smile. " 'Simple merchants', you say??".

"We need food, supplies, weapons. Can you help us?", Thorin chimed in. With reluctance still prominent in his demeanour, the stranger marked the barrels he'd pulled from the water,

"I know where these barrels came from".

"What of it?".

"I don't know what business you had with the Elves, but I don't think it ended well". The bargeman turned back to you all, readying his ship to depart. "No one enters Laketown, but by leave of the Master. All of his wealth comes from trade with the Woodland Realm. He would see you in irons before risking the wrath of King Thranduil", he huffed, throwing rope at Balin. The Dwarf turned his attention to Thorin who mouthed something in Khuzdul, encouraging him to continue pushing the debate with the stranger. And push he did.

"I'll wager that there are ways to enter that town unseen!".

"Aye", he agreed. "But, for that, you would need a smuggler".

"For which we would pay double", Balin insisted almost pleadingly.

Something suddenly snapped in this stranger, causing him to relent and follow your cause. It wasn't the money he was promised, but the desperation he'd seen all too many times before in those he loved. After accepting thanks from both yourself and Bilbo for his help, the man introduced himself as Bard. He set off with you all post-haste, setting his course for Laketown. The misty haze covering the water was thick, the waters almost black and dead, save for the movement of the vessel you stood in. Bard used a large oar for a rudder placed at the back of the boat, steering the ship through the dark. "Look out!!", Bofur had shouted, spotting jagged cliffs ahead, spotting randomly and towering by many feet in the waters. Bard steered by them with an expert precision.

"What are you trying to do?", Thorin piped up. "Drown us??".

"I was born and bred on these waters, master Dwarf. If I wanted to drown you, I would not do it here".

"Oh, I've had enough of this lippy lakeman", Dwalin grumbled beneath his breath. "Let's say we throw him over the side and be done with it". Bilbo huffed in frustration,

"Bard. His name's Bard".

"How do ye know?", Bofur asked.

"Uh, I asked him??", the Hobbit answered as if it were obvious.

"I don't care what he calls himself, I don't like him", Dwalin shot back.

"We do not have to like him", Balin shrugged. "We simply have to pay him. Turn out your pockets, lads". You'd already given Balin your coin purse, taking to leaning stiffly leaning against the right side of the boat. The conversations faded from your ears, the cold air still nipping at your skin. Your eyes came to a soft close, riddled with exhaustion. A burning warmth enveloped your numb hands, two larger ones coming to rest upon them. You knew those callouses, your gaze falling to your right. Kili's hazel hues were set upon the waters, as your own had been.

"I never got to thank you for saving my hide", you mumbled, offering his larger hands a caress. "Again". Guilt played within your gaze, his eyes meeting yours with a slightly amused smile. "I'm sorry, Kee".

"I am too. I shouldn't have spoken to you the way that I did either. You were just worried. I would have been".

"I'm still worried", you confessed, brushing his fringe from his face, noting his skin with concern. "You're so pale, Kee". The back of your hand pressed to his forehead. "You're burning up". He removed your hand with a great amount of gentleness, rejection needling your heart. You'd spied his leg, dark blood weeping through the fabrics wrapped around it. The Prince drew your gaze with his breathtaking smile,

"I'll be fine, (Y/n). You'll see".

Those same words echoed in your head with Kili splayed across Bard's bed only a day later. You'd seen his eyes become red with inflammation and exhaustion, seen his skin turn a shade of pale white. You'd seen him become weaker with every passing hour, now unable to stand properly. All you had seen, despite his assurances, was his slow suffering. And it was killing you from the inside out.

Every part of him was rippling in agony, his body trying to burn off the poison raging in his blood to no avail. Sweat was trailing down the Princeling's skin, matting his hair. His breaths were erratic in his struggle to breathe. "(Y/n)", his voice cracked, his hazel eyes almost terrifyingly dull, yet clouded with fear. He felt a fool now, having ignored your words of warning on his injury. Because some part of him understood now, alike to yourself, that he was dying. He had been all along. Hot tears stung his eyes, his fingers barely able to reach for your hand. Taking your lower lip into your teeth, you tried to keep from breaking down. You had to remain strong for Kili, but hope was disappearing with every passing second. He squeezed the fingers you'd offered him with what little strength he could muster. "I'm— I'm so sorry". A pained groan left him, trying to restrain the urge he had to move.

"Don't start that", you told him, returning the grip on your hand. "No goodbyes yet, Kili. We can still save you". Bard brought out a box of various herbs on a separate table. All were useless to Oin.

"None of these are any good to me. Do y' have any kingsfoil??".

"Kingsfoil? It's a weed?", Bard replied, brows creasing in confusion. "We feed it to the pigs". Kili's grip suddenly became painful on your hand, feeling as if a hot knife had been plunged through him. A wail escaped his throat that had you wincing, Fili rushing to your side again to offer not only his brother comfort, but you as well. The eldest Princeling had tried to convince you to leave with Thorin, promising you that this was only benign. Now, Fili was grateful that you'd stayed, not allowing your friends to go this alone. He was facing the possibility of losing his younger brother this very evening and here you were, holding the blonde's hand with your spare one to alleviate the stress. Amidst Kili's groans of pain, Bofur rushed to the table, exclaiming something about Kingsfoil.

"Don't move!", he'd told the younger Prince, recieving a pointed glare from him in return. Bard had left the house with his son Bain and a black arrow in tow. It was very possible, given the tremors you'd felt this evening, that Smaug had awakened. However, Bain had returned sooner than expected, claiming that his father had been pursued by guards and the black arrow hidden safely. Hope was fading faster by the second as the tense waiting began. The air was eerily quiet in Laketown, save for the odd cries from the Dwarf in your care. You all waited on Bofur, praying that the intuitive Dwarf would return with the herbs. Sigrid stepped outside, praying for her father's return as well as Bofur's.

"Da?", she called out, hearing movement along the wooden boardwalks of the town. When turning to retreat inside, her blood-curdling scream caught your attention. Sigrid tried to close the door, the Orc that had tried to strike her jamming his sword between it.

"Get away from the door!!", you yelled, Sigrid leaping back only to get thrown on one of the chairs, moving to hide under the table with her younger sister. Fili had charged from your side and into the Orc, battling by hand. More came crashing in through the roof, both Bain and yourself using the furniture at your disposal to fight them off. It became a struggle to fight their growing numbers in your attempt to protect Bard's children as well as Kili.

On any other occasion, you would've despised her presence, yet now you couldn't be more grateful for the extra set of hands Tauriel offered as she stepped into the room with her blades drawn. Her keen emerald eyes scanned the room, immediately beginning her onslaught against the growing number of Orcs in Bard's living room. Legolas leapt in not too soon after, joining your fight against the hellish creatures. You spoke not a word to either of them, taking their help as an advantage. Another wail from Kili broke the room, seeing that an Orc had gripped his injured leg, pulling him along the bed. Tauriel threw a knife into the skull of the Orc, the Princeling falling to the floor with a cry. You'd rushed to his side, Legolas flanking your defence. His skills with Elven daggers surpassed even the skill of Tauriel, weaving through the room like a graceful, yet sharp wind. "Get down!", Fili had yelled, pulling Bard's children behind the fallen table to hide. Kili had grabbed Tauriel's dagger from the dead Orc who had attacked him, using it to try flanking your defence and Tauriel's. Instantaneously, he'd collapsed with a scream, one of the Orcs vaulting from the room in its escape. The battle was forgotten, your makeshift weapons clattering to the floor. You heaved Kili's heavy body into your arms, the Prince now writhing in excruciating pain.

"Kili", you tried to calm him, your voice tremoring with the chilling anxiety rushing through you. Oin and Fili sprinted to your side with urgency, Tauriel's mouth falling open at the wound on Kili's leg. Black blood dripped onto the floor, the Morgul poisons all too familiar to the Elf.

"You killed them all", Bain gasped, almost feeling sick at the sight of his home.

"There are others", Legolas stated, readying his weapons to face of with your shared foes once more. "Tauriel, come". He beckoned his counterpart, hesitation showing in her features.

"We're losing him!", Oin begged, looking to Tauriel for help. She was capable, her people far more skilled than your own in the arts of medicine. Her eyes were wide, darting between you all and the retreating form of the Elven Prince. Her duty to the world, to her Prince Legolas surpassed the needs of your Prince, your best friend. Despite her curiosity of Kili, Tauriel didn't share the feelings for Kili that he had for her. For the Dwarven Prince, it was almost like love at first sight, continuing to be enamoured by her, her graceful and kind spirit, her smile. For Tauriel, it was a silly dream to pursue love with a Dwarf. He was handsome for one of his kind, but her heart lied with her duties, her people and with the man she'd slowly come to love. Legolas. Despite his father's wishes, she was not one to easily give up in the pursuit of love and it was clearly requited by the Prince. You envied her for that reason. Tauriel moved past your group without anymore hesitation.

Every part of you stung with hurt for Kili, knowing that he would feel that same agony you had alongside his current ailments. Unbridled rage filled your heart, watching as she left him helpless, screaming. "So that's it??", you called to Tauriel, allowing Fili to take his brother whilst you stood to confront her. "You'll just let him die??". The redhead turned, confusion etched into her expression.

"And what would you have me do? Orcs are running rampant, more innocents will die if I do not help them". Tears fell freely from your eyes.

"He's dying!!", you roared, gesturing to Kili. "He hasn't time! Save him!! Please!".

"I cannot linger—".

"Bullshit!! He opened his heart to you, Tauriel!! You can't leave him like this!!", you bellowed. You saw in her gaze that perhaps she knew of Kili's attraction to her. Yet, you'd come to understand why she'd taken to ignoring it.

"I can't—", she whispered with a shake of her head, turning again to leave.

"Please, Tauriel", your voice broke, lowering to a whisper only she could hear, "I love him". And that's when Tauriel understood. Guilt swam in her gaze when she looked upon you again. The stabbing pain of unrequited love sat heavy in your eyes.

"I'm sorry", she murmured, the entire apology heartfelt and genuine. You watched, helplessly as the Elf darted from the balcony and to the rooftops beyond, falling to your knees. A frustrated cry left your lips, Sigrid covering her mouth from seeing you this distraught. Bofur stumbled through the door, baring the Kingsfoil weed. He'd spied your tear stricken face with terror, seeing the desperate situation he'd returned to.

"There's no time!!", you shouted, staggering to your feet.

"(Y/n)? What will ye do??", he asked, all the eyes in the room falling to you.

With surity, you replied, "I have to save him".

You ordered Tilda and Sigrid to ready you some cloths and warm to hot water to best extract the essences from the herbs. Oin, Fili, Bofur and Bain took to lifting the now thrashing Prince onto the kitchen table. Being a Ranger from the South, kingsfoil was commonly used for healing practices by your kin, but you were not schooled in medicine. Your skills were honed on navigating the lands, tracking, stealth and basic combat. You felt useless, only faintly remembering hearing a few healing chants. Most were in Elvish, some in the common tongue of men. The words were lost on you, save for one or two chants. You would have to try.

"Are y' sure y' know what yer doin', Lass?", Oin piped up, watching as you peeled the leaves and flowers into the water.

"No", you huffed a bitter chuckle, your eyes falling down to his own. "But what choice do I have?". Fili eyed you from where he held down his brother, his ocean gaze glistening with hope.

"I have faith in you", he murmured.

"As do I", Bofur added, smiling to lessen the pressure. Oin nodded, giving you his seal of approval. He admired your gaul to act swiftly and take initiative. You would make an excellent healer in his opinion.

Taking a deep breath, you gripped Kili's leg, a pained scream leaving his lips. He writhed, kicking away your touch. His eyes had darkened, having no perception but the agony he felt. "Hold him down!! Please!", you begged the lads, all of them contributing. You tore the fabric away from Kili's wound, nausea creeping into your throat as it had the first time. The wound was still bruised and open, weeping black blood as a large swollen mound with dark veins. No time, you reminded yourself, reaching into the water. Scrunching all the leaves you could find into your palms, you silently prayed that the blood of Numenór flowed true within you as you began the healing chants you could remember. "May the blessing that was given to me, be sent from me to him. May he be released from death", you commanded, pushing the kingsfoil into the wound. His back arched, a piercing cry leaving his lips. Your eyes closed applying pressure. "May the blessing that was given to me, be sent from me to him. May he be released from death".

"Tilda!", Sigrid shouted, the two joining in holding down Kili's limbs as he continued to struggle from your touch. Oin and Fili watched in awe as you repeated your words over and over. Your chant was in common tongue, yet it seemed to breathe life into the room itself. You had begun to think and worry that nothing would work, that Kili was too far gone. Tears slipped again from your eyes, your voice remaining sterdy despite the tightness wanting to creep through your throat. Your mind was wholly set on saving him, imagining him as spriteful as the day you'd met him. Love and care poured through every fibre of your being and perhaps the Divines felt it?? You prayed that they'd help encompass all that energy for him if they did. Feeling the tension slipping from Kili's limbs slowly, you heard his cries dying into calmer, but ragged breaths. It was working..

"May the blessing that was given to me, be sent from me to him. May he be released from death", you repeated with more fervour, finally having the courage to open your eyes to meet his own. His hazel hues were no longer pale and dull. They were now full of life. His lips were parted, eyelashes fluttering in some semblance of shock, as if you'd pulled him from water to save him from drowning. And you had saved him. The darkness that clouded his vision, blinding him to all else was broken. It was as if he was watching the sun rising for the first time, seeing that divine light cracking the dark horizons open to see you. There was only you in his line of sight, pulling him like a lifeline. Kili found himself wondering how you'd ever come to be so beautiful. The infatuation he'd held for Tauriel paled in comparison to the affection for you that wormed its way past his broken heart and into his soul. And perhaps it had always been there?? The Prince felt a sense of relief fill him, coming to understand why he'd always felt differently for you. It had been you all along, he was only blinded to it.

Kili's pain faded from him, his body no longer fighting the poison. It had been neutralised, expelled from him. Death couldn't touch him any longer, or so he felt. His body instead burned with a warm, pure light. Every part of him relaxed under your touch, a soft sigh leaving the Prince as his breathing turned to some form of normality. His blood ran red through your fingers, cleansed now. The swelling would slowly decrease over time, as would the inflammation and bruising. You smiled, crying from your relief. The stiffness in your limbs created by the tense situation had dissipated. A breathy laugh, wet from your tears left your throat. You'd done it, you'd saved him. Bofur happily placed a hand on your own, both Tilda and Sigrid alight with joy over this victory. The girls circled the table, taking you into their shared embrace, giving you words of assurance, congratulations and gratitude for helping protect them. Fili grinned, sharing in some semblance of relieved laughter, resting his forehead on his brother's in a familial embrace.

Everyone had relaxed, leaving the room to allow you to continue in your endeavours to finish your work on Kili's wound. You pulled the kingsfoil from the scar, rinsing a cloth with the water the herbs had soaked in. The water was still warm and clean, fragrant with the essences of the weeds. You wiped the fabric over the wound, brushing away dirt, dead flesh and irritants. Once it was clean and dry, you started to bind his leg with cleaner fabrics that Bain had sought for you.

"I have never seen the healing practices of the Dunédain until this evening. That there was a privilege to witness", Oin marveled, turning to the blonde Prince who had also been in some state of awe at what he'd seen.

Softly, your hands worked at the bindings on Kili's leg, placing the material thickly over his wound to ensure it was well protected from weeping blood. "(Y/n)", The Princeling beneath you croaked, his voice hoarse and raw from his screaming. You smiled with a wistfulness, relieved to see him so at peace.

"It's okay, Kee", you breathed. "I'm here. Lie still for me, alright?". His hazel hues held an emotion you couldn't read, fluttering in their attempt to stay awake. A tired smile slowly etched onto his face, twinkling weakly with his usual cheekiness.

"You're so,—", his voice cracked. "—so beautiful".

Your brows knitted together in confusion when you glanced at him from his leg. He was clearly delusional. He had to have been.

"You're a bit dazed, Kee", you smiled, politely dismissing his words. "You need to rest".

"You are", he insisted beneath his breath. "You're so, so beautiful". You felt his warming fingertips brushing over the hand that rested on his thigh, the goosebumps from his touch spindling across your skin. "You were crafted by the sunglow of another world. Your light saved me. It wasn't a dream". Your lips parted, unsure of his kind words and the clarity behind them.

Kili breathed as if it were difficult to talk, his eyelids drooping in exhaustion. His smile still remained, eyeing your hands when you brushed your thumb over the fingers that rested upon your own.

Slowly, his breathing evened out, a light sleep taking the Prince as you continued to work. Once securing his bandages with a light knot, you leant down, brushing your lips over his forehead with a silent prayer that the Company was alive in Erebor. That the ruin that Bard had predicted wouldn't come to pass. Fili shared your sentiment, his eyes worriedly meeting your own before he embraced you in gratitude, thanking you once more for saving his brother. But, your complacency was only temporary.

When you stumbled onto the rocky shores in the cold light of the dawn, you beheld desperation, sadness, loss and terror amidst the ruin that had come to pass. Smaug's onslaught was without mercy or conscience. Bard had been right all along. Now, you were praying that he was alive with his son. You'd grown worried for the bargeman and his son after seeing Smaug plummet from the skies.

Frantically, you searched the shores for the two males. Tilda was in your arms, fresh tears pouring from her eyes. Sigrid clung to your free hand, shouting for her father. The Dwarves were readying the cannoe you'd all travelled in for the trip to Erebor. It felt wrong to leave everyone behind. You wouldn't leave yet, not until the girls had their father back.

Kili was hardly focusing on helping his kin with the small boat, his hazel eyes admiring you from afar. "Kee?", Fili called to him, beckoning him to help.

"Eyeing the lass?", Bofur asked with some suspicion and confusion, a smile twitching on his lips.

"What if I was?", the younger Prince shrugged, missing the hopeful glint in the older Dwarf's eye. "I have to make sure she's alright". Fili turned to Bofur, his brows raised. Both said no more in watching Kili ascend the shores. You had begun to make your return, Bard and Bain now reunited with the girls in the small encampment.

With exhaustion heavy in your steps, you smiled at the brunette Princeling on his unexpected approach. Your mind flashed back to those warm callouses brushing against your skin, goosebumps flushing across your arms at the thought. He'd hardly spoken a word to you since the previous night, making you question if he'd even been coherent when he mumbled those sweet words to you. Perhaps it was your wishful thinking in the end?

"Ready to go?", you'd asked him, beginning to stray past him whilst he'd stopped.

"(Y/n)", he called to you, the softness in his voice halting your steps. Your brows furrowed,

"Kili, we need to go".

"I need to talk to you". His hand reached for your own before you could turn away, gently tugging at your smaller fingers. Even after all this time, you found yourself unable to ignore the intensity of his hazel hues, something unreadable sitting hard within his gaze. "Please", he spoke, barely above a breath.

Instinctively, you turned fully to face him, your thumb brushing over his larger hand. "Of course", you replied, almost unsteady with nervousness. Some part of you felt that he may assure you that he had no feelings for you, that his words to you had been hollow. And you prayed that if he were to reject you, that he'd do so softly.

"I just want to say thank you", he confessed. "For saving my life".

"Kili, you needn't thank me", you insisted, his other hand pressing something smooth and cold into your palm. "What are you—".

"The days are growing darker, (Y/n)", he cut in, clasping your fingers around the object. His second hand warmed your cold, stinging skin. "Last night, I realised how little time we may have left and I have grown so afraid that I won't have the time to say what I must to those who matter". Your brows creased in concern, always content to allow him to express his innermost thoughts. "I'm giving you this token. As a promise".

"Kili—", you tried to desist him to no avail.

"Amrâlimê", he hushed you with a silken voice. It was like the word had caressed your very soul. A smile splayed slowly onto his features whilst his eyes seemed to read yours. "You felt it too, didn't you?".

"Felt what, Kili? I don't know what that word means", you replied with a quiver to your whisper, his grin growing.

"I think you do", he bounced back, a featherlight playfulness present in his glimmering gaze. "It's my promise to you. That I'll always come back to you". You saw the glassing of tears within his gaze. "Even at death's door, I will come back to you".

"Why would you promise such a thing to me, Kili?", you asked, confusion clouding over your expression. "When your heart clearly belongs to another??". To Tauriel...

A soft laugh slipped from the Princeling's lips, an affectionate glow radiating from his tender gaze. "It was infatuation, an idea that I'd tried to pursue with Tauriel", he murmured with a soft shake to his head. "It was foolish to pursue that which was but a shadow to how I feel for you, (Y/n). I know now how I feel— how I've felt all along for you and I'm not afraid. I was just too blind to see our connection for what it was". You felt his fingers squeeze yours, his eyes playing across your more delicate features. "For that, I hope you can forgive me and realise that my words to you last night were not of a daze, but from my heart. You make me feel alive".

Ignoring the tears that stung in your eyes, you finally felt as if your own heart had been freed, your smile like a pure light shining on the Prince. The warmth of Kili's spare hand reached to cradle your face, swiping his thumb over your glistening eyes.

The short gap between you was no more when your head had dipped, the softness of his lips engulfing your own in a deep caress. Kili's hand twined into your curls, pulling you flush into him whilst his other hand remained with your own, as if to solidify his promise to you. Your thumb worked soothing caresses over his rough skin, getting lost in his kiss before you heard whistles from the shore nearby.

Your lips parted from the Prince's, quickly missing the sensation of his hot touch in the biting cold of the morning breeze. Whistling and clapping, Bofur stood upon the cannoe, overjoyed at the scene playing before him. "If you both are done, we do plan on travelling today! ", Fili shouted, a playful grin on his expression.

Both yourself and Kili lapsed into a soft bout of laughter, sharing an affectionate glance before you allowed the Princeling to finally lead you to the boat to travel home.

The End. . .

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Hey readers!!

I hope you all enjoyed this fic!! I have a LOTR fic in the works as we speak, so keep your eyes peeled, folks! As always, any and all feedback is welcome! If you wish to be added to my tagslist, check out my masterlist and let me know what you'd like to be tagged in! ❤❤

As always, thank you all for your support in my works!! ❤❤

* * *

Translations;

Tolo hí = "come on" (Elvish/Sindarin)

Ishkh khakfe andu null = "go pour excrement on your head" (Khuzdul)

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TAGLIST; @fizzyxcustard @lathalea @emrfangirl @deadlymistletoe

#kili x reader #kili #kili durin #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit fanfic

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ofstardustanddreaming · 7 months

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comforting ways

preference summary: one way they comfort you when you're sad.

content warnings: none

fandom: the hobbit

characters: bilbo, tauriel, thorin, fili, kili, dwalin, bofur, thranduil

gender neutral reader

Bilbo: He knew you had been missing home along the journey, and tried his best to cheer you up. He would pick flowers that reminded him of you, he would talk with you under the starry sky next to the warm fire. He wanted to keep your mind off of things, but if it also meant being a shoulder to cry on while you did want to think about home. He's a sweetheart about your sadness, he also understands missing home, so he'll give you stories to help with relatability.

Tauriel: She would take a walk with you around the palace gardens if she wasn't on duty. She would listen intently while you talk about what it was that was on your mind. She would hold your hand lightly, rubbing soothing circles into the back of it. She would offer suggestions if that was what you were looking for, or she would offer words of comfort. Once you've gotten most of your sadness out into the world, she'll pull you in for a small kiss to try and get the rest of it.

Thorin: He would move the stars and sky if he could, to make you happy. He's more a man of action than comforting words. He would wrap his arms around you, pressing his lips to your forehead. It doesn't mean he wouldn't add some words of comfort, mostly whispering I love you's and Go ahead, I've got you as you let your emotions go into his shoulder, whether it's crying or quietly venting. He's just better at listening, and providing a physical comfort.

Fili: He was a mix of sweet words and soft jokes. He wanted to show you he was a reliable, safe person to come to when you're sad, and he'll do sweet things for you. He'll make you something warm, or wrap you up in something warm as well. He'll play with your hair, and lets you lie down on his lap while lightly stroking your side. He knows that sometimes silence, with the occasional words, with another person in the room is all it takes to ease the pain in your heart, little by little.

Kili: He would hate to see you sad, wanting to take the pain of your sadness himself. He would crack jokes, giving you his best puppy dog eyes to not be so sad. When he sees you crack a small smile, he feels relieved. He knows that sometimes your mind needs to be taken off of whatever topic it was on, but then he'll listen to what it is you want to talk about if it's what's needed. He'll plant small kisses around your shoulders and head as you talked, to remind you he was there.

Dwalin: He's a man of few words and more action as well, like Thorin. He is a little unsure at first though, what he should do to comfort. He'll sit silently near you, hovering, wanting to let you know he was there for you however you needed him to be. When you look up at him, wanting his comfort in the way you wanted, he wouldn't hesitate in getting closer and pulling you in tight. He was gentle with his hugs, but he made sure that you knew he would always be there for you.

Bofur: He would break into some soft songs, or hum, while having you leaned up against him to feel the vibrations. He would eventually get carried away, leading to a whole dance routine, and it would make you feel better with his happy approach to a lot of situations. He would pull you in afterwards, wondering how else he could help ease your sadness, and would do what it is you wanted. Whether it was hearing stories of the journey, or talking through your sadness.

Thranduil: He would check you all over, to make sure it wasn't an injury, feeling more secure in taking away a physical injury than an inner feeling of sadness. He has a harder time with emotion, but he's gotten better when fretting and constantly asking if you were doing any better. He would eventually calm down, realizing what you want is just him holding you and giving you comforting words. He would draw a bath, to help you feel more comforted from the heat as well.

#the hobbit #the hobbit preference #bilbo baggins #bilbo baggins x reader #tauriel #tauriel x reader #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x reader #fili #fili x reader #kili #kili x reader #dwalin #dwalin x reader #bofur #bofur x reader #thranduil #thranduil x reader

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justsomerandomfanfic · 1 month

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Flower Crowns - Dwalin X Female (Baggins) Reader

Title: Flower Crowns

Dwalin X Female Reader

Additional Characters: The Company, Ori, Kili, Fili, Thorin, Bofur, Balin, Oin (Mentioned), Bomber (Mentioned), Gandalf (Mentioned), Bilbo, Bard (Mentioned), Bard's kids (Mentioned), Alfrid (Mentioned), and the Mirkwood Elves (including Legolas and Tauriel (Mentioned))

Requested By: Anon!

WC: 5,252

Warnings: The Hobbit canon violence/weapons/death/etc, Reader is Bilbo's sister, misunderstandings, broody Dwalin, blood, injuries, nicknames, crying (brief), orcs, death, Ones, giant spiders, movie reference to a different movie (bonus points for those who get it), yelling, angst, and fluff

Trudging up the path with a woven basket of homemade muffins, you made your way up to Bilbo's home. You were a bit late. You were supposed to be at Bilbo's over an hour ago, but you had misjudged when you'd finish your muffins. And you knew how much Bilbo loved your muffins, so you were sure he wouldn't be too annoyed by your tardiness after eating a muffin or two.

Stopping at the door, you let out a small huff before knocking on the round door... Only to receive no answer. You frowned, furrowing your eyebrows before just entering. Pushing the door closed behind you, you heard voices from somewhere else in the Hobbit hole, confusing you even more. Had Bilbo invited others to dinner?

"Bilbo?" You called out, beginning to wander over towards the voices that quickly stopped after you spoke.

But before you could say anything more, Bilbo popped out into the hallway, rushing over to you. "Y/N, I believe we'll have to reschedule dinner." He spoke, rushed as he tried turning you around.

Your frown deepened as you twisted around in his hold, your eyes staring at the circular entrance of the dining room, "What do you mean? Who have you invited over?" Your curiosity was peaked now, and you wanted answers.

"Nothing! No one! Lovely seeing you!" Bilbo exclaimed, pushing you backward towards the door, ready to get you out. But before he could, you ducked out of his arms and sped towards the dining room.

You skidded to a halt at the entrance, eyes widening as your jaw dropped slightly. Bilbo sighed, rubbing his face with both of his hands before walking over and standing beside you. Eyes glued to the surprise visitors, you leaned over to Bilbo slightly; eyes unmoving from the surprise guests, "Bilbo... Why do you have thirteen Dwarves and a wizard in your dining room?"

~~~

And that was how you got roped into traveling alongside Bilbo, Gandalf, and the rest of the Company. Gandalf somehow convinced Thorin that having a second Hobbit would benefit the Company. And, unlike your brother, you wanted to go with them. You had read so many books about adventure and heard so many stories... You wanted to get out into the world and go on adventures that you had read in those books.

During the first few days of the journey to The Lonely Mountain, you became friends with most, if not all, of the Company. Kili and FIli, for example - the two youngest members of the Company - took you under their wing. When Thorin allowed the Company to rest, they would teach you how to defend yourself. Most lessons usually turned into fooling around most of the time, despite Thorin's grumblings. Fili and Kili were fun people to be around. They never failed to make you laugh, which was welcomed when having to face orcs and goblins almost daily.

Balin was like a father figure to you, always giving worldly and wise advice. Bomber often let you help in the making of breakfast and dinner. Ori, the sweetest of the bunch, would tell you stories, which you eagerly accepted to listen to every time. It gave you something to look forward to. And Oin, when free to do so, would teach you the basics of healing; showing you what herbs and plants worked best for certain ailments, which ones should be avoided, and so on.

You enjoyed each member of the Company's presence, but Thorin and Dwalin were the only two who hardly spoke a word to you. You weren't sure whether it was because they believed you didn't belong in the company, or because they were just not talkers. You hoped it was the latter.

But between the two, you really liked Dwalin. You liked his gruff demeanor - the brooding look on his face - and in addition, you really found him attractive. His muscular build, strong arm muscles, and dark hair; not to mention the tattoos on his arms - you wondered what their stories were. It surprised you, in the beginning, when you finally let the realization sink in. Even Bilbo, the only one that you had told about this attraction - you didn't fully trust Kili and Fili with the information - Bilbo was shocked, to say the least.

~~~

Walking with Kili and Fili, you snatched up bundles of flowers as you went, weaving and braiding them together into a crown. You had already made one for yourself, and Fili and Kili were quite invested in your creative, colorful craft.

"Where did you learn to create such things?" Fili asked as he watched you bend down, snatching up another flower from the grassy ground.

You shrugged, tying off another flower, "In Hobbiton, of course, Fili, dear," You began, fixing some of the flowers before continuing, "In originality, my mother taught me." You finished, weaving another flower into the crown.

"How does one make such intricate designs?" Kili then asked, twisting the stem of a flower between his fingers in thought.

You smiled back at him, "Well, it is quite simple, Kili, dear," You began, "You just have to braid the stems of the flowers together. Simple really." You answered, spying on Dwalin near the front of the line - just behind Thorin, you glanced over at the two Princes' beside you, "I'll be just a moment." You spoke before jogging over.

Your smile widened as you matched Dwalin's pace once by his side. Looking over and up at him, he didn't acknowledge your presence. It never bothered you, him ignoring you... You understood that Dwalin was not the type of person to just chit-chat, especially when there were bigger things to do and worry about. Lonely Mountain speaking.

Finishing the flower crown in your hands, you offered it up to the Dwarf, a bright smile on your face. "I made this for you." You explained softly, the flower crown - made of yellow, white, and red wildflowers - sitting in your hands.

Dwaling stopped, and so did the rest of the Company. You suddenly felt a wave of anxiety wash over you - all eyes on the two of you - watching as Dwalin slowly turned his head to look down at you, to the crown, and back. And for a moment, you thought that you saw something flash in his eyes, something that wasn’t brooding, determined, or angry. You swallowed, finding yourself unable to take your eyes off his, your ears and cheeks burning as he grumbled and huffed through his nose. You were confused, your hope and happiness dwindling - your hands lowering slowly - as Dwalin turned and continued walking.

Fully dropping your hands to your sides, you watched him go; feeling completely rejected. You knew that it was stupid. It was just a flower crown... And yet, you still held onto it with all of your heart, clutching it tightly in your hand; unintentionally crushing the flowers beneath your fingers. What did you do wrong? You just wanted him to like you... Tears stung in your eyes, but you refused to cry in front of everyone.

The rest of the Company soon passed you, some giving you sympathetic smiles, some patting you on your shoulder or back. Fili and Kili stopped beside you, Kili frowning softly, as Fili gave you a pat on the top of your head; careful not to disturb the flower crown on your head.

"Don't worry, Miss Y/N," Fili spoke, "He'll come around."

Kili nodded, "I assure you, he will." He let out a small chuckle, but you knew he wasn’t laughing at you. That was just him.

You nodded, doubting, but saying nothing more as they turned and followed the group; Bilbo finally coming over. "I'm alright." You muttered, looking up at him. You knew that he was going to ask you if you were alright.

"I'm sorry, Y/N..."

You shook your head, "No, it's okay." You whispered softly, trying to give him the best smile you could give him to ease his worries, "I don't know why I am so caught up in this... I must understand that I'm not really everyone's cup of tea. Not everyone wants to be my friend. If he doesn't want to be friends with me... Then, that's alright." You explained softly. Bilbo stared at you for a long moment before you began walking, dropping the flower crown to the ground.

~~~

The night was cold, the stars shining brightly down from the sky as you huddled close to Bilbo; next to the fire. It was hard to sleep, still not fully used to sleeping on the woodland ground, but you were getting there. And, soon, you found yourself drifting off to sleep.

Dwalin, on the other hand, having the first night watch, stared into the fire before him. It was quiet, aside from the fire crackling and the crickets chirping. Dwalin seemed to be lost inside his own mind, his eyebrows furrowed, and dark eyes narrowed in thought. Hearing a small grunt and feeling the log under him move slightly, Dwalin glanced over to see Balin sitting beside him. Balin hummed lowly, staring at the fire, rubbing the palms of his hands together.

"She didn't know, Dwalin." He spoke softly, not wanting to wake the others from their sleep, and only getting a deep mumble from his younger brother; at the mention of you, Dwalin's eyes flickered from the fire to your sleeping figure; curled up beside Bilbo. "She does not know of our courtship rituals. I should’ve told her more about our culture." Again, getting nothing from Dwalin, Balin continued, "She only wishes you to speak to her. You have hardly spoken a word to her since leaving Bilbo's home." He stared at his brother's side profile, "You can confide in me, brother."

Dwalin continued his silence, his eyes falling upon you once more. He was conflicted. Ever since he saw you enter the dining room of Bilbo's Hobbit hole, Dwalin had been unable to stop thinking about you. The way you moved and talked... Your features were sharp, yet delicate, your lips pouting, and your hair flowing. You were kind, bright, and soft; everything Dwalin wasn't. Dwalin was rough and tough. He had scars, he had seen death, and he had seen suffering. But, you... He had never seen someone as beautiful as you. You were different. Dwalin sighed deeply, looking away from you. He didn't know how to approach you; he couldn't bring himself to act on his feelings.

But he knew that you were his One.

He knew the moment he saw you.

Dwalin hated being vulnerable, and he hated admitting anything to anyone. So he sat, his jaw clenched tight, trying his hardest to fight his growing feelings for you.

"She's my One." Dwalin found himself muttering, far too quiet for most to hear, but Balin heard.

A knowing smile graced his oldened features. "I presumed so." Balin spoke with a hum, "I can only... Advise that you should speak to her. She cares for you. I am sure that she would understand." Balin stated, before letting out a small sigh, standing, "Think about it, will you?" And with that, Balin found his sleep sack, rolling into it and falling asleep.

Dwalin stayed awake much longer into the night, contemplating his decision as he waited for Gloin to take over the night watch. His older brother's words echoed throughout his head, and with a deep gruff, he let his eyes stray from the fire; the light making his eyes burn slightly. His eyes flickered from around the woods that surrounded him, to the Company before finding the stars and the moon in the sky, and finally... Back to you.

You, in your sleep, muttered something softly, unnoticeable. He watched as you rolled to your side, shivering, your hand pulling the fur blanket closer to you. Dwalin's eyes lingered on you, his mouth slightly agape before he snapped his gaze away. Feeling a wave of frustration towards himself, Dwalin's gaze landed on his sleep role.

~~~

The next morning, you woke up to a bright blue sky, filled with white, fluffy clouds. You let out a sigh, eyelids fluttering as you shifted slightly and let out a breath. You groaned lightly before freezing. Your fingers brushed against the fur blanket over you, feeling the coarseness of the material. It was warm. Very warm.

Your eyebrows furrowed; confused. You opened one eye, squinting at the bright sun that was peaking above the tree canopies. Slowly turning over onto your back, you sat up, looking down at the blanket... Or should you say... Blankets?

You stared down at the fur blanket, that was not your own, before flipping the fur up, spying your fur blanket underneath. This second fur blanket - which wasn't yours - was a deep brown color, with little bits of white. Who gave you this last night? Were you really that cold last night that one of the Dwarves had given you their blanket out of kindness or pity? You felt a sense of gratitude fill your chest. Looking down at the furry blanket, you couldn't help but let out a smile.

Looking up, you let your eyes survey the small camp, hopping from Dwarf to Dwarf until they settled on one. Dwalin. A wave of warmth passed over you, watching as he packed his sleep role away and into his pack. As Dwalin stood to leave, he glanced over at you, meeting your gaze for a brief moment; before quickly darting his eyes away, going over to Thorin.

You felt the corners of your lips twitch slightly, a frown threatening to form on your face as you looked at Dwalin's retreating back. Did he hate you? Did he find you annoying? All these questions ran through your head, but you only huffed, getting up from your sleep role. You were not going to let Dwalin's behavior towards you sour your mood. Today was a beautiful day, and you wanted to savor it.

~~~

You couldn't see, and all you could feel was the feeling of falling. You felt as if you were wrapped in something. It was tight around you, almost suffocating. Anxiety washed over you, gripping your heart painfully as your lungs begged for air. But you could hardly breathe. You needed to breathe, but you were trapped. You clawed at the sticky white substance that surrounded you, trying to rip it and free yourself, but you were not strong enough. You felt like giving up, though you knew you couldn't, but as you clawed at the sticky film, you could finally hear what was going on outside of the cocoon. You could hear the Dwarves yelling, yelling about spiders.

Before you could do anything else, someone from the outside ripped open your cocoon. You blinked rapidly at the slight change of light, finding yourself back in the creepy woods. A large hand reached out to you and you quickly grabbed it, the person behind the strong hand pulling you up with force. Stumbling slightly, you felt slightly dazed, the hand still in yours as you found yourself in a giant spider fight.

As you stood amidst the chaotic scene of giant spiders attacking the Company, your heart raced with fear and adrenaline. Eyes unable to leave the giant spiders - tunnel-vision - you gripped the hand in yours; giving you slight reassurance. The air was filled with the sounds of battle - the clang of weapons, the hiss of the spiders, and the shouts of the Dwarves. You could feel the sticky strands of webbing brush against your skin as you dodged and weaved through the throng of arachnids. You felt gross and dirty; and for the first time since the start of this long journey to The Lonely Mountain, you missed your Hobbit home.

With each passing moment, the fight intensified, the odds seemingly stacked against you and the Company. Your wide eyes danced around you, trying to spot Bilbo, but you couldn't find him. You wanted to yell out, to shout, but as your mouth opened, no words came out. There was an odd buzzing noise in your ears, your heart was beating loudly in your chest; harsh against your ribcage. Only then, did you look at the person who held you so close to them. You thought it couldn't have been Kili or Fili, but you spotted the two Princes when you lifted your gaze. Looking down at the hand that held yours, you felt your racing heart freeze for just a moment; an auditable hitch escaped your throat, but you didn't dare utter a sound.

Standing in front of you and holding your hand tightly in his own was none other than Dwalin. You knew it was him. You knew those tattoos. Trailing up his muscular arm, you were finally met with the side of his face. His expression was hardened as he held his weapon tightly in his other hand. Aside from the anxiety and nervousness that had overcome you, you were incredibly impressed. Dwalin, with one hand, fought off giant spiders, whilst also keeping you perfectly safe.

At the sound of something coming from up in the trees, you looked up, watching as no more than two dozen elves jumped to the ground, taking out the last of the large, monstrous spiders from around you. One of the Elves spoke to another, you noted her red hair as they spoke in Elvish. You wished that you could understand them. Your awe of them quickly diminished when they drew their weapons, arrows drawn and at the ready; circling around you and the Company. Soon, they demanded your weapons, and before you knew it, all the Dwarves were weaponless.

"What about her?" One Elven guard asked in a demanding tone. Your eyes lifted up, finding the guard staring down at you. "Hand whatever you have over instantly." He demanded, holding out his hand, only for Dwalin's hand in yours to tighten slightly, gently pushing you behind him.

"She bears no weapons, Elf." He spoke in his deep, gruff, disgruntled voice. The Elf stared down at Dwalin for a moment before staring right back down at you, with a sniff and a small 'humph' he turned away.

The blonde Elf, the one that you believed to be in charge of the whole group, yelled out something in Elvish, and before you knew it, you and your Dwarven friends were being pushed along, being led to hopefully, not your doom. Passing Thorin, you looked at him with pleading eyes, "Thorin, where's Bilbo?" Only for your answer to be unanswered.

Your hand never left Dwalin's, your free, unoccupied hand found his arm; the skin upon skin contact grounded you, allowing you to calm yourself ever so slightly. You finally took a chance to look around, finding the forest opening, revealing a stone bridge. Pillars, beautifully carved, gave way to the entrance of Mirkwood, the Elven Kingdom. You wished you had the time to admire the architecture of the kingdom, but, sadly, you did not. Before you knew it you were being tossed into a cell.

A hand fell upon your shoulder, pulling you to the side, your hands falling from Dwalin's. "Dwalin!" You called out, trying to reach for him, but you were soon shoved into a cell. Stumbling over your feet, you braced yourself on the rock interior of the cell. Hearing the heavy cell door close behind you, you snapped your head up; feeling exhausted, mentally and physically, but you pushed yourself forward. Your hands curled around the bars, trying to look at the cells beside yours. The sound of the now-captured Dwarves - yelling and complaining.

"Miss Y/N!" Fili yelled out, only a few cells away from yours, "Are you alright!?"

"I'm fine!" You called back, "Is everyone else alright?"

Most, if not all, of the Dwarves, replied with various 'ayes’. You sighed in relief, closing your eyes; the chill of the cell door refreshing on your forehead.

Sitting on the floor - you felt the hours pass you by slowly - you pressed the back of your head against the wall; tired. "I wager the sun is on the rise. Must be nearly dawn." Bofur called out, his voice echoing throughout. Your eyes fluttered open, a yawn leaving your parched mouth.

"We're never going to reach the mountain, are we?" Ori asked, sounding resigned, making you sigh.

"Don't fret, Ori, dearest." You spoke up, sounding a bit resigned yourself, but you were determined to keep everyone's spirits high. "We'll make it." You continued, looking out of your cell door, "We will." With that said, you stood up from the ground, wincing as pain shot through your legs. Looking down, you noticed a rip in your trousers that you replaced your usual dress with. Pushing the ripped fabric to the side, you then noticed a red substance that trailed down your leg; coming from a small scratch on your calf. "Well," You spoke up, clearing your throat. "I may have been slightly injured."

Simultaneously, the Dwarves began to talk. Their voices became louder, some with more worry and concern. "Miss Y/N, you are injured!?" You heard Fili call from his cell.

"Yes, tis but a scratch." You explained, hoping the Dwarves would stop fussing over you. You weren't a damsel in distress. You were strong, even with a bloody scratch. "But worry not, dearest Dwarves, it's nothing I can't handle."

"You won't have to handle it for long." You heard, eyes widening - mimicking your bright smile - as Bilbo appeared at your cell door, holding the keys.

~~~

When you joined the Company on their journey, you did not expect that you'd trick goblins, climb bit trees, fly on eagles, fight giant spiders, and barrel ride down a raging river. This was certainly an adventure that you'd go through again, minus the goblins and giant spiders; you'd love to fly with the eagles again.

Somehow, you survived, floating down the raging river, your clothes all sopping wet, and river water dripping from your hair. As all of your barrels fell down a waterfall, you couldn't help but let out a small laugh. Behind you, you could hear the laughter of some of the dwarves. For a moment, you forgot about your injuries; and the exhaustion that was seeping into every fiber of your body. Your hands tightened your grip on the railing of the barrel, praying for it to not capsize or tip over, your fingers growing numb with cold. You tried desperately to ignore what was going on around you. Smelling the fresh air, and hearing the birds chirping above you, almost made you forget everything else.

But at the sound of a horn, you were quickly snapped out of your head, watching as the suited Elves began to shut the gate; the only way to escape. All joy, and a sense of freedom, flew right out of the window. You all collided with each other at the closed gate, you huffed, glaring up at the Elven guards before your eyes caught sight of an arrow flying through the air, and into one of the guards.

"Orcs!" You yelled out, gesturing up at the guards, as the one that was shot fell into the water below; almost hitting you. "Why does it always have to be orcs?"

You dodged the best you could when dead elves and dead orcs fell into the water, along with dodging arrows, and over-confidant orcs that tried to swing at your head.

You were about to call for Bilbo, but when you turned your head, you watched as your brother stabbed a sword into an orc, defending one of the dwarves.

"Miss Y/N!" Ori cried out, making you look over to him, only for him to point above you.

You looked up, your eyes widening at an orc - dead - began falling towards you. Unable to move, almost frozen in fear, you squeezed your eyes shut and shielded yourself with your arms, only for your barrel to be pushed back and out of the way. You opened your eyes, blinking them rapidly as the river water splashed in your face. Looking over, you just saw a glimpse of Dwalin turning back around. Despite the obvious danger that you were all in, you wondered what you could do for Dwalin since he had saved your life twice now.

Turning your eyes to the side, you watched as Kili ran up the side of the stone top of the gate, you covered your mouth as an arrow flew through the air and hit him in the leg. Fili cried out of this younger brother, as Kili then opened the gate, and fell into an empty barrel.

Falling down, yet another waterfall, smaller than the last, you pushed your wet hair from your face, only to grip the barrel with as much force as you could; the raging, white-foaming waters continued. Looking to your side slightly, you watched as Bilbo held onto a barrel, holding onto the sideway barrel, his own death-like grip. You felt a small bit of relief, seeing him safe. You, and the Company, continued down the river, and the longer you tried not to tip over and drown, the more you wished that you weren't in the freezing waters.

Finally, the raging stopped, and the river was calm. Leaning over slightly in the barrel, you brushed your hands in the freezing water, moving your barrel forward slowly, but carefully.

"Make for the shore!" Thorin yelled out, receiving some 'ayes' in return.

Pushing your barrel forward, you pressed your cheek against the rim of the barrel, your eyes drooping slightly as you continued to push yourself toward the shore. Your barrel soon hit the rocks, and you used the rest of your strength to get out of it, climbing up onto the rocks; completely soaked. You trudged up the rocks, wrapping your arms around yourself as you mentally counted those around you, counting fourteen. Mentally, you could rest.

Feeling a hand on your upper arm, you looked to the side, seeing your brother Bilbo. Just his presence made you give him a small smile, seeing the worry in his eyes. "I'm alright." You spoke to him, wanting to reassure him, "I'm just cold."

At the surprise of meeting Bard, the human, you sort of let your brain shut off. You felt your feet move as you followed the Dwarves to Bard's boat. You felt yourself sitting down in the corner next to Bilbo, and hiding from Alfrid, but you were far from the present. You were so tired, mentally and physically, that you let your mind quiet, letting yourself only fade back into the world you knew once you felt the warm fire at your feet.

"Wee lass hasn't spoken since the Elves." You heard a hushed voice, it was Bofur.

You pressed your legs closer to yourself, staring into the flames. The clothing you were given, having been one of Bard's daughters, was warm; the fabric soft - your fingers toyed with the soft material.

"Is she alright?" Ori asked worriedly, only for Bilbo to nod, crossing his arms.

"She's alright. She had told me so." Thorin only gave you a short glance before turning back to Bard.

Dwalin, with his arms crossed, turned to look at you, staring at your side profile. Glancing over at the table that Bilbo sat at, Dwalin said nothing, walking over to the table and grabbing a plate. Bilbo, in turn, watched as Dwalin filled the plate with a few potatoes, two small tomatoes, and a small slice of bread.

Your eyes picked up the sound of heavy footfalls coming towards you, and at the sight of a plate coming into your field of vision, you moved your head to look up. As you looked at Dwalin, his face stoic as usual, you couldn't help but smile. Taking the plate, your fingers briefly brushed against his.

"Thank you, Dwalin." You spoke softly, but before he could slink away, you grabbed his hand, stopping him. For a moment, you thought back to when he held your hand so tightly - protectively - in the Mirkwood forests. "Thank you for saving me. Twice." You smiled at him softly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "And I apologize if I had anything to upset you, or make you uncomfortable." He glanced over at you, then down at your hand which was wrapped around his. He didn't remove his hand from yours, giving you the same squeeze that you had received from him earlier today.

Dwalin stared at your hand in his, his jaw clenching before he looked back to you, his eyes softening. "You did not, dorzada." He spoke gruffly, “Eat.” He finished before leaving your side, your hand dropping from his.

You looked down at your plate of food, your stomach grumbling and spinning, as your mind wandered. Picking up the slice of bread, you bit down on it, thinking about the word that Dwalin called you. You wondered what it meant.

~~~

"Oin, stay with Kili." Thorin commanded as the rest of the Dwarves began to gather their things. Without being told, Fili stayed by his brother's side.

"I want to come too." You spoke, grabbing a random weapon from the wooden table.

Dwalin quickly turned, staring down at you, "It will be too dangerous for you, lass."

You huffed, lightly glaring up at the Dwarf, "I have fought trolls, orcs, what have you." You pointed out, causing him to raise an eyebrow. "I want to fight."

"This is against us Dwarves and the dragon." He grumbled, his hand taking a hold of the weapon in yours. "You'll die before the beast does."

"I'm already dying anyway," You shrugged, looking back down at your weapon, "From the moment we're born, we're dying. So, what is the point? I want to help."

Dwalin breathed out of his nose as he took hold of your other hand, "No, no, lass, you are staying here, with Kili, while the rest of us fight."

"Are you telling me, or are you commanding me, Dwalin?" You asked, voice becoming soft as his eyes bored into your own. "Do as you wish then," You sighed when receiving no answer, letting go of his hands, "But please, do not die."

Dwalin humphed, the corners of his lips just twisting up into a small grin, and for a moment, you were stunned. Dwalin was smiling. "Don't worry," He spoke. "I won't." His gaze softened, as he stepped back from you, "Be safe, lass." With that, he started to walk away, only for you to grab his arm and stop him. You didn't say anything else, merely pulling him close to you.

You felt him tense in your abrupt embrace before his one hand, not holding his weapon, circled you. But, it all ended too soon, as he pulled back from you, nodding to you before turning his attention to the group, as they set off to The Lonely Mountain.

Your shoulders sagged when the door closed, a small pout upon your lips, "Do not fret, Miss Y/N," Fili spoke from beside his brother as you turned to look over at the four Dwarves - Kili, Fili, Bofur, and Oin. "They will return."

You let out a sigh, looking out at the window. A fuzzy feeling rose within your chest, and you couldn't help but smile to yourself. After watching them disappear into the distance, the sun went to sleep, "I know."

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lonicera-edulis · 2 months

Note

this is for the characters questions: Fili and kili, 11 and 26 for each one pls

11. What’s the first thing you think about when thinking about the character?

Little rascals xD I always had a strange nature of feeling about characters like I am an ancient being who is older and the characters younger than 30 (in human understanding) are just funny kids to me.

First of all I always think of them as a set, then I think, "ah, yeah, a goofy pair of brothers".

26. When do you think they were being "themselves" the most?

A strange question, being honest 🤔 Like, goofy moments with Fili and/or Kili are them being themselves, romantic moments with Kili (between him and Tauriel) is him being himself (he was showing his flirty side directed to another race from the first movie), and moments with Fili standing up for his brother is him.

I am unsure what this question really wants from me, but I probably answered it by highlighting characteristics that got stuck in my "no good memory" head 😵‍💫

(But also FIli instead of Kili should have stood up against Thorin in the end. Or at least both of them.)

I will add to this ask a pixel animation and a little dream that I had in the end of January:

I don't know which dwarf I was, and my challengers were Fili and Kili. Also it seemed like some kind of modificated LOTRO gameplay at some point? But also we haven't finished fighting and had to clean the mess off the ground xD I pictured Gimli in gif, which is logical, for him to be teased and trolled by his cousins.

#asks #replies #pixel art is so difficult #the hobbit

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runesandramblings · 10 months

Text

Violent Delights

Word Count: 6200

Pairings: Kili x reader

Warnings: Unhappy arranged marriage but nothing violent or abusive

Description: A forbidden romance blossoms between King Thranduil's arranged bride to be and the Prince of Erebor. (Loosely inspired by Romeo & Juliet without the death part.)

Will make a part 2 if you guys want it. :)

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,

Which as they kiss consume.

The breeze felt wonderful against your skin after being indoors for so long. You inhaled deeply, allowing the fresh scent of the forest to fill your lungs as you relished in the sounds around you. The chirping birds, the rustling leaves… The walls you’d been kept behind were quiet, far too quiet for your taste. You were used to the sounds of life in the forest, and to be surrounded by the familiar noises once again filled you with delight.

“Lady (Y/N), we should probably get back.”

Temporarily, at least.

You turned to look back at your escort. Tauriel, the captain of King Thranduil’s guard, had been reassigned as your personal escort the day you’d arrived. She was around your age, both of you quite young for elves, and in spite of the differences in your position she’d grown to be a close friend. Your only friend, really.

“You don’t have to call me that.” You reminded her once again.

She smiled, and you knew she would continue no matter how many times you told her otherwise.

“You are a lady, are you not? Soon to be the queen?”

You grimaced at the reminder.

“Unfortunately.” You muttered under your breath. It was probably loud enough for her to hear, but you didn’t care. She was well aware of your feelings on the arrangement.

You had not come to the kingdom under your own will. Your father, a high lord of another elven kingdom, had desired an alliance between your people and the much more powerful elves of Mirkwood. In exchange for protection and trade agreements, he’d offered King Thranduil your hand. You were both surprised the king had actually accepted, and as soon as word arrived of his agreement to the terms you’d been sent off to Mirkwood the very same afternoon.

It was well known to many that the king had tragically lost his wife in a battle against orcs many years before. You were as shocked as anyone that he’d agreed to marry again, after he’d been intentionally alone for so many years. Upon your arrival he had been quick to inform you that the marriage was one purely of convenience, as your people had much to offer Mirkwood. Outside of that one conversation, you had not spent any time alone with the king. You’d not spent any time with him at all, really. Aside from the occasional dinner, which was also usually attended by his son, you had only seen Thranduil a handful of times since you’d arrived in Mirkwood a month before.

He was not unkind. From the small interactions you’d had with him he did not appear to be cruel or malicious. You sensed his hardened exterior had a lot to do with the loss of his first wife, and you could not fault him for that. For the most part since your arrival you had been left to your own devices within the walls of the kingdom. Thranduil had given you your own private chambers. They were large and luxurious, with the finest silken tapestries and hand carved furniture you could imagine. Your time was yours alone, as the king never sought an audience with you, and you spent it as you pleased. You’d grown close to Tauriel very quickly, and Thranduil’s son Legolas was also good company.

Though you could hardly complain about the lavish treatment and unending free time, it had grown into a lonely existence. Your chambers, though massive, felt cold and empty without someone to share it with. You’d explored every nook and cavern of Mirkwood, read every book and parchment in the library, and quickly grew tired of the same mundane routine you’d fallen into. Which, subsequently, led to your trip outside of the kingdom walls with Tauriel.

Speaking of Tauriel. You felt her step closer to you as she whispered in your ear.

“It could be far worse, (Y/N). I know this is not what you wanted, but Thranduil is a fair and noble man. You will have a good life here.”

You knew she was right. As a highborn lady in your home kingdom, you’d watched many friends married off to unsavory men over the years. Of all the arrangements you could have ended up with, you’d been matched to the King of Mirkwood. You knew you would live a good life, a luxurious life. But you also knew you were walking into a loveless marriage, and the prospect of being alone pained you. Elves lived long lives, and you couldn’t imagine being a wife in name only for a thousand years or longer. You desired love and true companionship.

As you looked back at her, nodding your head in resignation of the truth you knew she spoke, she gestured over her shoulder towards the direction of the gate. Time to return. You relented in defeat, following her as she began winding her way back through the woodland trails. The forest was safe now, the spiders having been driven off for good shortly after the Battle of the Five. The king was still reluctant to allow anyone to leave, and it had taken some persuasion on Tauriel’s part to get him to allow the adventure. You hoped he would consent to regular walks in the forest, so long as you didn’t try to abuse the privilege. He did not strike you as a controlling man, but he was certainly protective of his kingdom and those within it.

You took one last, deep breath of the fresh air before you stepped through the heavily guarded doors behind Tauriel. As you turned to say your goodbyes for the evening, you were approached by a taller, dark haired elf. You recognized him as one of Thranduil’s personal servants as he bowed before you.

“Lady (Y/N), the king has requested an audience.”

You looked between the messenger and Tauriel, unable to hide the expression of surprise that crossed your features. Thranduil had sent for you?

Tauriel nodded politely to you as she bowed, dismissing herself as the servant gestured for you to follow him.

“You know where to find me should you need me, my lady.” She said before turning and departing.

You followed the servant down the winding corridors, through the only passageways you were still unfamiliar with in the kingdom. As you and Thranduil had separate chambers and living spaces, you hadn’t had cause to explore the areas surrounding his rooms. You were surprised to find he had summoned you into his private quarters, rather than his throne room or the dining hall you semi-frequently gathered in.

The servant came to a halt in front of a large set of ornate doors and he knocked once before opening it, gesturing for you to step through. You stepped inside and the doors closed behind you. The servant didn’t follow you in, and as you continued on alone your mind raced with the possibilities of why Thranduil might have requested to speak with you.

You were surprised to find his chambers were not much more lavish than your own. He’d clearly spared no expense on your living quarters, as his shared the same style of furniture and tapestries as yours did. The only visible difference you could detect was that his rooms were just a slight bit larger than yours. As you rounded the corner into the main living area you found the king at last. He was standing with his back to you, and as you approached he did not turn to greet you. You stopped a few yards away from him, standing awkwardly with your hands clasped together. He was a king, after all, and you were uncertain if you should speak first. Surely he’d heard you enter.

After several long moments of silence, Thranduil finally spoke.

“How have you been finding the kingdom?” He asked, his back still turned to you. His arms moved as he spoke, and from behind it looked as though he were fidgeting with something on the table he stood before.

“Fine, your majesty.” You said quietly, not bothering to elaborate. You didn’t think he’d care too much for the details anyway.

“Have you been treated well?” He continued, still not turning to face you.

“Yes, your majesty.”

“You may call me Thranduil.” He finally turned, holding two goblets of red wine in his hands. He handed you one and took a long sip from his own before continuing. “We are to be wed, after all. Even if it is merely an arrangement.”

You nodded wordlessly as you accepted the glass. You remained silent, uncertain of what to say. He paused for a moment before he pivoted on his heel and began to walk back in the direction he’d come.

“I have received an invitation from King Thorin.” As he spoke he paced around the room, sipping from his goblet. It was clear he was as uncertain of what to do in your presence as you were in his. “They are holding a celebration in honor of the anniversary of Erebor’s reclamation. Would you care to attend with me?”

That was surprising. Despite the joint effort it took between the dwarves and elves to defeat the orc armies, they were still not on the best of terms. Thorin had, after all, attempted to keep the elves’ jewels to himself and nearly started a war between the two clans as a result. There was an uneasy peace between the two, now that the dwarves resided in the mountain once again, and you were surprised that Thranduil would be willing to travel all that way to be in the company of dwarves.

“Yes your ma- Thranduil.” You quickly corrected yourself.

He paused and turned to look at you, though he did not make a move to step closer.

“I do not expect love to grow between us.” He said flatly. “But we should be able to tolerate each other, should we not?”

You nodded.

“Yes, I would say so.”

He nodded in return as he held his wine glass out, indicating a toast.

“Very well then. We leave in one week's time.”

The journey from Mirkwood to Erebor had taken two days, and with the lavish way in which Thranduil liked to travel it was not an uncomfortable trek as you’d anticipated. You arrived at the mountain kingdom well rested, and rather excited at the prospect of a feast. From what the king had explained of dwarvish parties he remembered from the late King Thror’s time, the feast could go on for days. You would be arriving at the tail end of the celebration, as Thranduil had planned. Dwarves were apparently a rambunctious bunch, and as Thorin had requested Thranduil stay and tour the mountain afterwards he had not wanted to spend more time with them than he needed.

Erebor was as magnificent as you’d been told. It was amazing how the mountain had been transformed and rebuilt in merely a year's time. Though you were used to the splendor of elven realms, as both Mirkwood and your birth home were lavish and beautiful, there was something awe-inspiring about the kingdom under the mountain. The halls were endless, sprawling on in either direction as far as your eyes could see. The ceilings were impossibly high, and despite the kingdom being built into the side of a mountain there seemed to be an abundance of light flowing from any given direction. To look down at the winding staircases that led deeper into the heart of the mountain would make you dizzy, if you stared too long. The stone walls were carved and inlaid with intricate designs of gold and silver, telling the tales and the history of the line of Durin. You had studied many languages, and Khuzdul was one you were somewhat familiar with. You’d found yourself stopping every few feet along the walk to your chambers to read the inscriptions on the walls.

Legolas, Tauriel, and a handful of others had made the journey along with yourself and Thranduil. The dwarves had spared no luxury for your group, as you’d each been housed in your own private chamber within the mountain. Dwarvish extravagance was very different from that of your elven home. Where the elves valued natural elegance, which involved a lot of carved wood and intricate silks, the dwarves had more of a rugged taste. Your rooms consisted of chiseled stone furniture and fixtures, inlaid with even more gold and a number of jewels you had never laid eyes on before. Though it was very different from your home in Mirkwood, it still felt comfortable and welcoming.

The dwarf servant that had been assigned to your care had asked what could be provided to make your stay more enjoyable, and she was delighted at your request for books to read later in the evening. She seemed impressed at your ability to read and understand Khuzdul, as many elves didn’t care or bother to learn the language of the dwarves. You’d noticed the air of arrogance Thranduil and Legolas, and even Tauriel, had displayed since your arrival, and you made it your mission to change the dwarves’ opinion of elves, even if the others chose not to do the same.

After resting and dressing for dinner, you’d met Thranduil and the others in the hall. He extended his arm out to you automatically, as though it were expected rather than something he cared to do. You’d accepted it regardless. As you walked along he did not look down at you, or even acknowledge your dress or appearance for the event. Was this the life you were destined for? Emotionless, cold… Doing things merely out of duty and not from love? You felt your heart sink as you walked along beside the king. It was a lonely existence.

The feast was in full swing by the time you arrived. It was chaos. There were long, sprawling tables lined with food and more dwarves than you could count. As you watched, food flew from every side of the room, ale spilled across the tabletops and onto the floor, and dwarves moved about, falling over themselves and each other. It was clear the drinking had been going on for much longer than the actual feast.

“They behave like animals.” Thranduil muttered under his breath.

Despite having never been in the company of dwarves before, you found yourself surprisingly unbothered by their behavior. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, which was more than you could say for your royal escort. It was certainly more rambunctious than any elvish party you had ever attended, but at least they were having a good time.

As your party approached a large table at the head of the room, one of the dwarves stood to greet you. He was dark haired with a matching dark beard. Streaks of gray peppered both his long hair and speckled his face, and with the gold and emerald crown atop his head you took him to be the king. As he stood he extended his hand in a greeting.

“King Thranduil.” He bowed his head out of respect to the elven king as he placed his hand across his chest. “We are pleased you could make the journey.”

Thranduil nodded tightly in return, also bowing his head to Thorin to your surprise.

“King Thorin.” He said politely, though you could hear the hint of tension in his voice. “This is my betrothed, Lady (Y/N). You’ve met my son, Prince Legolas.”

Thorin nodded at you both before gesturing to the dwarves seated on either side of him. On one side sat a woman, with dark hair similar to his own. They shared a stark resemblance, down to the neatly trimmed beard she wore as well. On his other side sat a younger dwarf, who also matched the seeming familial resemblance to the other two. He had wavy, golden hair with braids woven through. His braided mustache bounced as he nodded his head in respect.

“A pleasure, my lady. My prince. This is my sister, Lady Dis. My nephew and heir, Prince Fili. My other nephew will be joining us shortly.” As he spoke he gestured to two empty seats on the opposite side of the prince. “King Thranduil, would you and your betrothed join us at the head table?”

Your eyes traveled to the spot down from the empty spaces. You recognized the king of the newly rebuilt city of Dale, Bard. The one who had been responsible for slaying Smaug, if you remembered the story correctly.

Thranduil’s increasingly strained smile caught your attention from the corner of your eye, and you couldn’t help but smirk a bit in response. You knew the last thing he’d wanted for the evening was to be sandwiched between the dwarves he still wasn’t overly fond of and the humans he held in equal disdain. However you knew his kingly pride would not allow him to turn down the offer. You, on the other hand, were excited to continue on with your mission of making the dwarves see the elves in a better light.

“We’d be honored.” He said, forcing an even larger fake smile. As another dwarf servant appeared and escorted Legolas and the others to their table, Thranduil gestured for you to choose your seat first. Unable to resist the humor of making the king even more uncomfortable, you opted for the seat next to Bard, leaving Thranduil no choice but to sit and make conversation with the dwarven king and prince.

“It’s a pleasure, my lady.” King Bard said as you sat, extending his hand to help you into your seat. “I was not aware that King Thranduil had taken a bride.”

“It’s a new development.” You said, quickly attempting to divert the conversation away from your engagement. “How is the work on the city going?”

As the two of you made light conversation and exchanged pleasantries, speaking of the rebuild of Dale and the newly reformed relations between dwarves, elves, and men, you began to lose track of time. Several courses came and went, and ale and wine continued to flow freely. Though the elvish tolerance made your kind more resistant to the influence of alcohol, the steady refilling of your goblet as you chatted and sipped away had your head spinning before you’d realized what had happened. You began to feel warm, and as you breathed in and out your corset suddenly felt overwhelmingly restrictive around your chest.

Air. You needed air.

Without thinking you turned to your fiance, grabbing his arm in an attempt to get his attention.

“Thranduil.”

He turned to you, and as his eyes met yours his brief look of annoyance quickly turned into one of concern as he noticed your flushed and panicked face.

“Are you alright?” He asked quietly, and you were surprised to find that he actually appeared to be worried for your wellbeing.

You nodded in reassurance, not wanting to cause a scene as you felt the eyes of Bard and Thorin also turning to you.

“I’m just feeling a bit warm, I think I’m going to step out for a moment.”

Thranduil gave a small nod in return, and you quickly stood and excused yourself from the table.

You were uncertain of where to go, as you’d only arrived in the mountain earlier that day and had not had a chance to get to know your way around. The way back to your room felt somewhat familiar, and you decided a quick stroll there and back might help clear your head. As you wove through the crowd, deftly avoiding numerous drunk and stumbling dwarves, you found that a makeshift dance floor had formed directly in front of the entrance, and only exit, to the great hall. You were unfamiliar with the dwarvish music, but it was much softer and merrier than you expected. Dozens of couples twirled around, following footwork that was unknown to you but something they seemed to know by heart. You were transfixed for several moments, watching them move about with an ease and grace that you didn’t know came so naturally to dwarves. After a few minutes you remembered your desire for some air, and decided you’d still like a short break from the commotion before you returned to the table. You tried to move nimbly along the outskirts of the dance floor, trying to avoid crashing into dancing dwarves as you stayed as far out of the way as possible. As you turned back to watch momentarily, still intrigued, you felt yourself collide solidly with another body. Before you had the chance to correct your footing you found you were falling backward. You braced yourself for the impact, but before your body could crash into the stone floor a pair of arms wrapped tightly around you, and you felt yourself being pulled into a broad chest.

Your gaze turned forward, looking for the source of your rescue in order to thank whoever had saved you from splitting your head open. As your eyes searched the space in front of you they spotted the top of a head of brown hair; the person to whom it was attached stood a few inches shorter than you. It was a dwarf, if you had to guess. He was still cradling you tightly against him, as though he anticipated you might fall backward again at any moment. You felt his grasp loosen as he leaned back to look up at you, though his arms still remained wrapped around your body.

He was young. The difference in how dwarves and elves aged was unfamiliar to you, but judging by his lack of a beard and softer features you assumed he was not an elder. He had wavy brown hair that was pulled partially back, save for a few loose strands and a fringe of bangs that framed his face and a pair of dazzling brown eyes. Though he lacked the fuller beard and mustache that most dwarves wore he did have a sprinkling of stubble across his face. The lack of a beard allowed you to fully appreciate his chiseled jawline and lips, the latter of which currently sported a wide grin. He was quite handsome, and you couldn’t help but stand and stare down at the stranger for several long moments.

Too long, you realized. How long had you been standing in silence, staring at the nameless man? It would surely look bad if anyone from your party came strolling by.

“I’m sorry sir-” You started. As you stuttered out an apology you moved to step backward, and subsequently tripped again. The young dwarf immediately grasped your arm tighter to steady you and you felt a blush creep into your cheeks in response. So much for the grace and elegance of the elves.

“The fault was entirely mine, my lady.” He said in return, his kind smile widening at your flustered speech and clumsiness. He didn’t appear to be bothered by your awkwardness; on the contrary, he seemed to enjoy it. His touch lingered on your arm, ensuring you would not fall again before he slowly released his grasp.

“I’d hardly say so, you were merely walking by and I was not watching where I was going.” Despite your embarrassment you felt a smile spread across your face as well. The kind twinkle in his eyes was contagious, and you quickly felt your fluster fade the longer the two of you spoke.

“Well if you’re so inclined to make amends, you can honor me with a dance.” As he spoke he extended his hand toward you, and in the same motion he nodded his head toward the mass of dancing bodies. The music had slowed to something much less upbeat, something you were sure even you could keep up with.

You paused. The nameless man had intrigued you, that was for certain. But would dancing with a random dwarf enrage your royal fiance? You craned your neck to look back in the direction of the table you had been sat at with Thranduil and the other royals, but from your position near the dance floor you could not see them. Which meant more than likely they could not see you either. Even so, would it really be that big of a deal? You were supposed to be making peace, after all.

“That seems only fair.” You said as you turned back to face him. As you accepted his outstretched hand he grasped it tightly, as if he were afraid you’d disappear, and pulled you to the floor.

The two of you came to a halt in the middle of the mass of bodies. You were surrounded by other dancing pairs on every side, safely hidden away from any watchful eyes. As you rested your hand on his shoulder and entwined the fingers of your free hand with his you felt his other hand rest on your hip. The light touch sent a wave of goosebumps up the side of your body. It was more contact than you’d ever had with the man who was supposed to become your husband. Every point of contact your body had with the stranger felt as though it were on fire.

Seeming to know you were unfamiliar with the music he took the lead, tugging you gently back and forth until you became comfortable with the simple steps of the dance. You swayed together for a few moments, neither speaking but simply watching each other in a comfortable silence. Though he was a bit shorter than you it was not by much. He stood at eye level with your nose, and you wondered if he were tall for a dwarf, or if you were short for an elf. Thranduil and the others had towered over Thorin, so you expected it was the latter. You had often been one of the smaller elves wherever you’d gone.

“So you are not from the Iron Hills, I take it.” He grinned up at you as he finally spoke, stating the obvious. There were many physical differences between elves and dwarves, but if your ears and impossibly long hair had not given you away your dress certainly would have. The high-necked and fitted gowns of the dwarven women were a stark contrast to the lower cut and flowing gowns of the elves.

“I am not.” You confirmed.

“Are you from Mirkwood?” He continued.

“I am living in Mirkwood, but I am from somewhere farther.”

“And are all the elves as graceful as you?” He asked. As he spoke he attempted to keep a serious face, as though it were a genuine inquiry. He failed, and before you had the chance to respond to his prodding a smirk broke through his stoic expression.

“Well I’ve often suspected I’m not entirely an elf.” You said matter-of-factly, playing along with his teasing. “Grace has never been my strong suit.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I didn’t know my mother. My father does not speak of her. And as you’ve so keenly pointed out, I do lack the natural elegance of the elves.” Why were you telling him this? You’d only just met the man, and yet you found yourself spilling out the innermost things you’d only ever wondered to yourself.

“And the height.” He quipped, confirming your earlier thoughts. “But you are no less stunning.”

You felt a warmth spread across your face, and you were certain you’d blushed a scarlet red. He was more forward than you were used to, and although you enjoyed the company of the cheeky dwarf you were also an engaged woman. To a king, no less. You’d become lost in the conversation, fully absorbed in the moments shared with the handsome stranger. To the point you had almost forgotten you were still in the center of a crowded dance floor. You realized the two of you had stopped moving and instead stood staring at each other again. His eyes were mesmerizing. His fringe of bangs had fallen partially to cover them, and you felt yourself drawn to reach forward and brush them away.

“Are you from Erebor?” You quickly asked, sidestepping his compliment. “Or have you traveled for the celebration?” You turned your gaze to the couples around you and tugged on his hand, indicating you should start moving again.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see his lopsided grin return, fully aware that you’d avoided the second part of his earlier statement. He followed your lead and began to sway with you, though you noted his grip had tightened on your hip.

“I live here.”

“Did you live here before the…” You trailed off, uncertain of how the dwarves spoke of the years the mountain stood uninhabited. Was it a sore subject still?

“Before the dragon?” He finished. “No. Why do I look that old?” His eyebrows furrowed together as he spoke, his expression unreadable.

You’d offended him.

“N- no. You don’t. I didn’t- I mean-” You felt your face flush red again as you stumbled over your words. Of course he couldn’t have been old enough to have lived through Smaug. Could he?

He laughed.

“I’m only joking.” He assured you. As he spoke he stopped moving again, and gestured over his shoulder to the exit you’d been attempting to make it to before. “Would you like to take a walk? I could show you around a bit while everyone is in here. The halls will be empty”

You felt a flutter run through your stomach at the prospect of being alone with the mystery man. It was a feeling you’d never experienced with Thranduil, and expected you never would. You checked over your shoulder again, still unable to see the head table from where the two of you stood. But again, would it be so bad? Accepting a tour of the kingdom from a dwarf? You had made it your mission to change their view of the elves, after all. You wordlessly nodded, accepting his invitation, and he grinned widely in return as he took your hand and led you nimbly through the crowd.

The halls of Erebor appeared impossibly larger while empty. The stranger led you up and down staircases, pointing out different areas of the kingdom and showing you various repairs that had been completed in order to reverse the damage done by the dragon. As you walked together you lost track of time again, and you wondered how long you’d been absent from the table. Had Thranduil noticed? Likely not. He never seemed to notice or care when you were gone.

“So how did you come to live in Mirkwood?” Your escort finally asked, his attention turning from the newly rebuilt throne to you. “You mentioned earlier you were not from there.”

“My…betrothed.” You started hesitantly. “He lives in Mirkwood.”

You paused, waiting for the inevitable reaction. You were promised to another, and it pained you to tell him. You felt an undeniable draw to this man who’s name you did not know. There was a familiarity and comfort with him, something you’d never felt before and certainly did not feel with Thranduil. As you waited for him to excuse himself and leave you standing alone in the halls you held your breath, dreading the fallout.

“Oh.” He sounded surprised at the revelation, but not upset. He made no move to run away from you as he continued. “You do not sound happy about the arrangement.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that he had not fled at the mention of your fiance. Though you’d made no mention of your unhappiness with the king, he seemed to have noted that it was not a joyous engagement. You wondered if it were that obvious to everyone when you spoke of Thranduil.

“I’m not.”

“Does he not treat you well?” He asked. You noticed a look of concern that immediately furrowed lines in his face.

“In order to treat me well or not well he’d have to spend time with me.” You said, offering him a sad but reassuring smile that your intended was not an unkind man. “And we do not spend any time together. He told me when I arrived we were to be together in name only.”

“That sounds terribly lonely.”

“It has been.” You continued quietly. Your gaze turned back to the designs etched into the stone floor as you walked. Who was this stranger? This man you’d known for an hour at most, but somehow you felt more comfortable with than anyone you’d ever met before. You wanted to know him better, but that would surely be impossible.

The two of you walked on in silence for several minutes before he spoke again.

“Has he seen you?” He asked suddenly.

“What do you mean?”

“Has he laid eyes on you?” He asked again, a hint of urgency in his voice.

“Well, yes, I’m here with him.” You stated simply. What was he getting at?

The man shook his head as he turned from you back to stare ahead as you walked.

“He is a madman, then.”

“How so?”

“To possess a woman so divine and not spend any time with her…” He trailed off, shaking his head again as though in disappointment. “The only conclusion is he must be insane.”

You felt your cheeks flush at his statement. This stranger had spoken more kind words to you in an evening than Thranduil had in a month. Who was this man?

“I don’t know if I would say that.” You said quietly, keeping your eyes focused on the ground as you spoke.

“I would.” He stopped suddenly and took your hand, pulling you to a stop with him. He tugged you around to face him, and kept your hand locked tightly in his as he spoke. “Tales will be written of your beauty some day. You are the fairest princess in the most wonderful fairytale. The most beautiful and elegant of all the elves in all of the realms. The most precious jewel under this mountain. If he is not insane, your betrothed is surely blind.”

The way he stared up into your eyes sent another flutter through your stomach. Something you’d sorely lacked with Thranduil. Passion. You felt it as strongly as anything, the unmistakable feelings of desire and attraction swirling within you. It was as though the force of gravity itself had shifted, and rather than grounding you to the earth you stood on it was pulling you towards this stranger instead.

“You flatter me, sir. I do not even know your name.” You whispered. As you spoke you felt yourself unconsciously pulling against his hand, tugging him closer to you. He stepped forward willingly, bringing your bodies only inches apart.

“I am-” He began.

“Kili.”

The both of you jumped at the unfamiliar voice that invaded the intimate bubble you’d enclosed yourselves in. You quickly released his hand and stepped backward, putting as much space as possible between you as the intruder approached. The young blonde prince you’d met earlier, Fili if you remembered correctly, was strolling toward the two of you.

“My lady, this is my brother, Prince Kili.” He said by way of introduction as he came to a halt beside him. “Brother this is Lady (Y/N), the intended of King Thranduil.” It seemed as though he were offering a reminder to the pair of you, rather than an introduction.

His brother. The king’s nephew. Of course it was.

The stranger you now knew to be Kili was staring at you, the pieces falling into place as his eyes widened.

“Thranduil…” He mumbled. “Of course.”

Fili raised an eyebrow in confusion at his brother's muttering before turning his attention back to you.

“My lady, your fiance requested I come check on you. Are you well?” He asked. He was far more formal and royally appropriate than his brother had been for the past hour.

You quickly slipped back into a more formal mode yourself, straightening your back and clasping your hands behind you. You nodded respectfully at the elder prince.

“Thank you, Prince Fili. Prince Kili was just escorting me back to my room. Will you tell King Thranduil I am not feeling well and would like to retire for the evening?”

He nodded.

“I will. Brother, our king has requested your presence. Do you know the rest of the way back, my lady?” As he spoke he pulled on his brother's arm, indicating they should return to the hall as quickly as possible. You hoped nothing had been made of your joint absence, though given the fact you’d not been introduced earlier the connection would have been a longshot for anyone to make.

“I do.” You said, giving the older brother a reassuring smile as he turned to leave. “It was nice to meet you, Kili.” You felt a pang of sadness. The evening had gone by far too quickly, and you knew you were not likely to see the handsome prince again.

“And you, (Y/N).” He took your hand in his and kissed it gently, allowing his lips to momentarily linger against the delicate skin of your hand. He released it and quickly stood, leaning in to whisper in your ear before following his brother. “I will find you again.”

#kili durin #kili fanfic #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit #kili x reader #kili #the hobbit movies #the hobbit trilogy #the hobbit fic #kili durin x reader #the hobbit reader insert #kili reader insert #kili imagine #kili durin imagine #kíli #fili and kili #kili and fili #lord of the rings reader insert #post-botfa

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viablemess · 5 months

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I have a lot of feelings about the Durin Family, Fili in Particular

---Howdy folks it is that time of year again where i go absolutely feral for Fili Durin. He is underappreciated and tumblr has addressed that but i feel an URGE to add to the discourse so here I am. This post is not done, fyi. I will add more to it later.

It's 10pm/22:00. I just got home from class. I'm waiting for my ramen water to boil. There is a fireplace and some holiday lights. Let's have a (fireside)chat.

First of all, the constant tying of Fili and Kili together?? Like I get it. Merry and Pippin parallels. I love parallels (looking at you, George), but come on. Chill, just a tad. I know Tolkein didn't give you much to go by, but he didn't even write tauriel into the books or Bolg and yall ran with that anyways. Use your creative brains, pls, I'm actually begging you.

ANYWAYS. Have them develop separately even if only a little. Kili is the younger one, literally viewed younger bc he has the smallest itty bitty beard. He is not the heir, he is the spare, and could have some deep rooted personal insecurities about that as a result. He may feel that he deeply has to prove himself to Thorin bc he does not have a set role in the future like Fili does. Kili gets his romance with Tauriel, which--khgf;ushfw;e uneneccary, but I can appreciate the attempt to broaden the target market and appeal to a romance audience even if the previews did not hint at that happening at all so it would not have been a marketable trait per say but I digress. Again with the parallels of forbidden romance, poor Legolas still does not get any, we know, he was not even in the books really either, let's move on.

Kili is babied by the company, needs to prove himself, his mother made him promise to return to him so he is still deeply in the "coming of age" side of things (a lot of the company is, but that's a topic for another word vomit fireside chat). He begins to realize that he might like elves which goes against his family and he was already the spare, might as well go all in and fall in love with an elf. Fine. I can deal with that. But let's see more of Kili messing up, more so than just the trolls. Let's see him make silly goofy mistakes more. The company always tries to keep him out of the line of fire by making him an archer (heh) and keeping him off the front lines. They do everything to protect him, bc Dis is a terrifying woman, ansd if she made Kili promise to return to her, dammit, the company will return him to her if it is the last thing they do. Kili likely spends less time with Thorin and Dwalin than his brother, so here he is, questioning his own self worth and if he belongs in the party and his own abilities while coming of age and sticking out from his family even more, so why not rebel a little? why not be an archer which is not as glorified, why not consider shaving to meet cross cultural beauty standards, why not date the elf (dammit, I'm convincing myself for Tauriel's presence and I hate that). He's trying his best and messing up along the way, and is INNOCENT. Completely. He is aware of his ancestry and what happened, but he and Bilbo are the two being narrated to when telling of the Durin family history, and as a result, the differences in dwarven / hobbit culture could be explored further. Thorin has a little kiddo to watch out for, and maybe is softer around, because even Thorin knows Kili is young, maybe even too young to be here but if they didn't let him come he would have snuck after them, so we get to see a more forgiving, family-man Thorin who we do not see anywhere else (and yes we get that at the end of the movie but I'm getting to my critique of the (I almost called it a keldabe wrong fandom) forehead touch with a name I cannot recall later).

Onto his brother. Fili is the heir, okay. So, that means that he is likely raised very differently from Kili. Whereas Kili may have had some time to play and be a kid (as much as they could in the Blue Mountains as refugees, anyways), Fili likely was given no such privilege. He followed Thorin around like a lost puppy, watching his every move and trying to imitate it, because he knew he would have to do Thorin's job someday. Even if Thorin did get married / have a kid / etc there would likely still be a window where Fili was in charge before Thorin's kid came of age, and as the years went on, the chances of that happening diminished, and so Fili threw himself more and more into his crown-prince-studies. Maybe a little obsessively, just like his uncle, who had practically stepped into the role as father. Because Fili thought he had to be Thorin. Thorin, meanwhile, saw the King that Fili could be, and that King was so much better than him. Fili grew up humble as a result of them all being refugees, something Thorin did not have to learn until much later and even then he never fully got it. Fili was kind, because he saw the suffering of his people, and understood how large of a difference a small act could make. Fili also had the teachings of Thorin drilled into him, because Thorin's problem was that whenever he saw Fili, he also saw Frerin. Frerin was Thorin's younger brother, just as blond as Fili, and (I'm assuming) played a roll in Fili's name (both starting with F). Frerin died at the Battle of Azanulbizar, and Thorin remembers that battle, he remembers losing his little brother. He can understand the fear that Fili feels whenever the company encounters a fight because he has felt the same in the worst of ways. But, because Thorin understands, he pushes Fili to be better than him. Even if that pushing is too much, too hard, too fast, too young--Thorin knows that Fili can be better than him, and Thorin does not want Fili to suffer as he has suffered, so he does everything in his power to prepare Fili for what is to come, and because Thorin loves him, that is all he does. He pours that love out as motivation and pushes Fili to do more, do everything, and do it better than he did. Fili, being young, does not realize this. He just sees it as Thorin preparing him to be king, and quite brutally at that, but Thorin is the closest thing he has to a father, Fili is not going to question it, not for anything, except for his little brother. And that just hurts Thorin, because he knows that, had he had the chance, he would have died to save Frerin at Azanulbizar. He knows Fili would do the same for Kili, but they are both so, so young. Thorin fears he could lose them both in one go, if he is not careful. So he is harsh, he scares them, he is forceful, because they do not have time for care and coddling, that won't keep them safe.

Whereas the company sees Kili as carefree and fun, Fili is cold, like his uncle. He is stone, and observant, and polite. He has to be Thorin, AND everything that Thorin is not. It is an impossible task, but he has to try. That is what is expected of him, not just by his mother and uncle, but by the entire people that is behind him, waiting for him to ascend to be king. He does not get a choice. The only one who can pull him out of that rut is his brother, with whom he actually feels like he can be what he is -- barely older than a kid.

Im gonna let that sink in for a second. They're CHILDREN.

anyways.

So, Kili gets his romance plot. It's cute and it parallels. And I've established that Kili must prove himself, and Fili will bend over backwards to make Thorin happy, which likely also extends to Dis, his mother.

I imagine Dis gave Kili the river rock to come back home, and she told Fili "be safe, don't be stupid, etc etc" but HIGHLIGHTED "take care of your brother", and Thorin does the same in the movies.

So, when Kili galavants up the bridge to open the gate after the party does a little slip and slide down the river, Fili naturally goes with. He sees that Kili is about to get shot. And Fili, who knows above all else he has to be king and he has to take care of Kili, just does the normal heroric thing and jumps in front, and he gets shot.

He is chastized for it, for being stupid, but overall they both are thanked for getting them out of the mess, and there is no time to waste because the company has to leave, and Fili (like what Kili did albeit maybe with more conviction) will not let others help him, or show weakness. So Fili continues on, poisoned, and Kili has the guilt of knowing his brother took an arrow meant for him. Fili must suffer the consequences of being a hero, and Kili must suffer the consequences of being the youngest, and feeling guilty for not taking responsibility for his own actions.

This all boils over to a fight where Kili tells Fili that "I made the choice to go up there, I didn't ask you to intervene!" because dammit Kili wants to be treated like an adult and FIli just took that away from him, again.

Fili, naturally, retorts, "I just did what I had to, because you know what? mom didn't tell me to come home--all she told me, all everyone ever tells me--is to take care of you! So I don't matter, not to this family, not in the same way you do. You're a son. I'm a prince."

Which, ouch. Slap in the face to Kili, and maybe the company overhears. Kili feels slighted, but also maybe is starting to understand, he can be a kid, Fili cannot. And Fili, meanwhile, is about to break from the weight of expectations that feels heavier than the lonely mountain ever could.

So, Kili stays with Fili when they get to Bard's, because it is what Fili would have done for him. Thorin is pissed, but lets it go, because Kili isn't Fili, and ouch, again.

I imagine Bofur helps quite a bit, he has a kind soul and listens better than most, and while Fili is delirious with fever Bofur talks him through it. Kili gets to be more coherent with Tauriel, and we get to see if their relationship actually holds up outside of a "she saved my life I love her" style of interaction which bleh is cliche as all get out.

and PLEASE when the dwarves do get out of Bard's house, they get to actually help Bard deal with the dragon. I read a fic a long time ago (if I find it I'll link it and the author below) where Fili had to be Bard's arrow anchor instead of Bard's son and I just chef's kiss. The dwarves who are left get to help the humans, and they feel more sympathy for them. Maybe they witness more death, and so when the dwarves do turn their backs on the humans later, Fili, Kili, Bofur, Bifur & crew are like "wait wtf they have suffered enough" unlike their future indifference we see in the movie.

and THEN all the dwarves arrive at the mountain, and Fili and Kili actually get welcomed home like the family they ARE, but it's stunted, because something is wrong with Thorin. He is glad to see Kili and Fili, but barely spares them a glance. They've heard the rumors and stories, of gold sickness. They begin to wonder, and we get to see them talk (probably with Bilbo) about the concept in secret where everyone is looking for the arkenstone. We get to see Kili with his hero worship refuse to believe Thorin would fall under a gold thrall. We get to see Fili, who is afraid of becoming like Thorin, too scared to enter the treasury unless immensly pressured to do so, and even then someone is always with him, because he worries. He still holds the ruby Thorin threw at him, and he keeps it in his pocket. He holds it so tight the edges cut his palm, and the pain seems to distract him from the wealth that surrounds him. I always wondered if Thorin gave Fili that ruby because he was the heir, or the only dwarf with so much gold about their person, with his hair. It was what Thorin saw first, not because it was his nephew, but because he looked like the very thing that already clawed Thorin down into his own demise.

AND NOW the war starts. and this needs to be another post bc ffs I'm losing my shit this is much too long.

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mlmxreader · 1 month

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Forgiveness Comes Easy | Kili x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Hii so this is my first request. Please feel free to ignore this if you don't wanna write it

Soo uhmm I saw that you write for kili and I wanted to ask if you could write something where like the reader (gender neutral) is in a relationship with kili and they are jealous(or smth) of the way tauriel speaks with him (like in the prison/dungeon scene)

Again, feel free to ignore this if you don't like this ❞

: ̗̀➛ Kili can sometimes make you jealous, and he can sometimes make you angry, but you'll always forgive him at the end of the day, especially when he makes you laugh.

: ̗̀➛ jealousy

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

You could not help but to glare and scowl as you looked at Kili, thinking about how he used to look at you like that; big brown eyes and his eyebrows slightly raised.

The gaze itself was so soft and inviting, so warm it could melt steel with just a few seconds.

You could not fathom why he would look at her like that - granted, she was gorgeous and brave and intelligent. She was all but perfect in every which way that you could ever think of; yet the way that Kili looked at her was making your stomach churn.

He used to look at you like that, with his gorgeous dark eyes so warm and gentle. His hands were so careful despite the fact that he had so many calluses that his hands felt rough at every inch. Skin made of raw iron, and cool steel for bones.

You used to think that you were his, that he had promised you his heart just as you had promised him your own; although you could see, now, that maybe only you kept that end of the bargain.

You had long thought, that with Thorin’s blessing, Kili would be as loyal to you as you had always been to him; but the way that he looked at her, and the clumsy deftness of his fingers when he passed his mother’s stone to her, it made you clench your jaw as you shook your head.

Unable to do anything but to huff and slink to the back of the cell, staring at the cold blueish grey stone walls; how they refracted with pale cyan and gentle ash colours.

You folded your arms across your chest tightly, a slight pout mixing with your frown as you did your best not to snap at Kili and demand that he shut up.

But you must have gotten your wish, as you heard him stop talking; heavy footsteps soon followed, and before you could snap at him, he was kneeling in front of you, dark spots on his trousers where his knees became damp.

You looked at him, mapping out his features for a moment before turning your head; your face met the cold, damp stone and you huffed again as you frowned. Kili cleared his throat, nudging your knee gently but getting no response. He tilted his head to the side, frowning as he knocked you again; still no response.

“Come on,” Kili sighed, squirming to sit between your legs. “What’s wrong? You can talk to me. Was it something I said?”

You scowled again as you looked at him at last, shaking your head and trying to ignore the deep, deep urge to snap at him; to scream and shout at the top of your lungs until he finally got the message.

But you could only sigh, licking your lips as you swallowed thickly. “Why do you expect me to be loyal when you can’t be?”

He furrowed his brows as he looked at you, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side. “Pardon?”

“You,” you whispered harshly. “Tauriel is a fine, fine Elf but if you are going to go with her, at least tell me so I’m not following you around like a lost pup for no reason.”

For a moment, he gawked and stared at you, but then a grin came to his face as he cleared his throat and tried not to laugh. “Is that jealousy I smell on your breath?”

“No!” You snapped, the word coming out a little harsher than intended and echoing loud enough to make you wince and cringe. “No, I am not.”

Kili let out a soft laugh, trying to disguise it as a hum, and tapped your knees. “You are, aren’t you? Oh, dear, that-”

“Do not mock me,” you hissed, getting up and sitting over by the bars. “Do not even speak to me.”

He was relentless, coming to sit beside you with his head on your shoulder; that warm and sweet gaze on you as he smiled and tapped your hand so softly, taking it into his own and allowing his fingers to intertwine with yours.

“You’re right about one thing - Tauriel is a fine Elf… but she isn’t for me. I’m just trying to make an alliance, that’s all.”

“Since when were you so diplomatic?” You grumbled, refusing to look at him.

Kili gently squeezed your hand, letting his voice drop so that he was almost whispering under his breath. “Since there was someone who mattered more than a good scrap… I never meant to make you jealous, and I never meant to make you doubt how I feel for you - and only you, mind - either… I’m sorry… please stop sulking, I don’t like it when you sulk…”

You didn’t want to forgive him so easily, you really didn’t, but you knew that he was more than sincere about his words, and you knew that he meant every single one and would stand by them until the end of time; so you sighed, and gave his hand a little squeeze to let him know that you weren’t so angry about it that you would always give him the cold shoulder.

“Am I forgiven?” He asked softly, quietly.

You hummed, daring to smile a little, which only made him laugh and grin as he knew that he was off of the hook. “I s’pose. I can’t stay angry with you forever, now, can I?”

“Not until we’re married,” he pointed out. “Then you can stay angry with me all you like.”

You couldn’t help but to laugh, shaking your head fondly; you did notice that he never did that with anyone else - he never purposefully tried to make them laugh the way he did with you, he never tried to make a fool of himself or to tell jokes just to see them smile. You scoffed a little.

“I will hold you to that, you know,” you told him with a grin.

“I hope you do.”

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luna-writes-stuff · 5 months

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All Of My Love, Thorin Oakenshield

Song link

Fanfic, gn! reader

Fluff, reunion fic

Word count: 2912

Tw: everyone lives because you can’t fuck corpses (necrophelia still isn’t okay, guys). Despite this comment, this fic is all fluff no smut so… Mentions/descriptions of injuries. Bathing but no insinuation. Established relationship. There is no Tauriel/Kili here so cry about it.

Summary: When the company finally reclaims Erebor, you set out on the travel to the kingdom to meet with your husband again. However, upon a arrival, you notice that a lot more is on his mind than he tends to let on. You try to comfort him the best you can.

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

“Should I fall out of love, my fire in the light? To chase a feather in the wind.”

One thing that was worse than leaving for a suicide mission, was not going on one, then watching the one you love most take the quest. It was his given right, of course. There wouldn’t be any other who could possibly set out. But when he told you to stay, you could have sworn your stomach had begun to carry a new feeling of heavy.

There were arguments - fights over his decision, but not once did he change his mind. Not even when you tried to follow them. It was his sister who would spot you and drag your reluctant form back to camp.

When you married him, you had made a vow to never leave one another, so this had left a painful taste for you. You understood him, and you knew why he had to go. But you didn’t understand why he had wanted you to stay. Love be damned - he had promised.

The letter couldn’t come soon enough. The longer the months grew, the more anxious you became, even to the point you struggled to fall asleep. When the first letter from Erebor came, you were one of the first party members to set out for the travel. It would take days until you finally reached the mountain.

“Within the glow that weaves a cloak of delight. There moves a thread that has no end.”

Having taken over for Thorin whilst he had been gone, had gained you an insane amount of respect from the other dwarves, so the travel had been relatively easy for you. But the moment you stood mere miles from the mountain, you had to halt for a moment, and let everything properly sink in.

The letter announcing Erebor had been reclaimed had come from him; you knew he was alive. But his sentences were brief and straight to the point. And you weren’t used to that kind of writing from him. It had worried you. Sure, he might have been fine, but what of the others? You truly had no way of telling.

“Shall we continue, my lady?” One of your companions asked, ripping you from your thoughts. You spared him a curt nod, and with that, the group continued walking again. Your anxieties would have to wait.

“For many hours and days that pass ever soon. The tides have caused the flame to dim.”

The travel through Dale had been heartwrenching. Mankind had still been rebuilding the city, but the state of the buildings and streets had been pathetic beyond words. You couldn’t imagine having been here whilst the dwarves were reclaiming the mountain. Shallow stares and brief nods were thrown your way as you climbed towards the entrance of Erebor.

When you reached the huge entrance, the air got stuck in your throat. From behind you, you heard some companions sob with glee - some even falling to the floor. You had reached the mountain proclaimed to have been impossible to enter. And the mere sight of it had shaken you to your core.

A figure neared you from a distance, and you had to squint to be able to tell the distinct features. A gasp of surprise left you as you took off running, nearing the figure quicker than he could reach you.

“Dwalin!” You exclaimed happily, pulling him into an embrace as you reached him - one he quickly returned. “Lass, we’ve been waiting for you!” He laughed heartily. It briefly made you forget the turmoil in your body earlier.

“Get in! It’s freezing out here.” He spoke as he parted from you, then gesturing for your company to follow him. After years of mourning and months of longing, you were finally back home.

“At last the arm is straight, the hand to the loom. Is this to end or just begin?”

A room had been appointed to you quickly, giving you your time to bathe and get dressed. As you stepped foot into the tub, you quickly noticed your reddened skin, likely from the freezing cold outside. You involuntarily shivered at it, the water feeling almost boiling. You tried to resist the feeling, clutching the edges of the tub tightly. Leaning your head down, you gave your body time to adjust to the heat, clenching your eyes shut at the burning sensation.

“Do not break the tub, please.” An all-too-familiar baritone once rang through the room, immediately causing your head to snap up. You must have been too caught up in the sudden temperature shift to have noticed him entering your chamber.

“Thorin,” You sighed relieved, getting out of the bath as quickly as you could, hissing at the biting cold now gnawing on your skin. You fell into Thorin’s embrace as he wrapped his arms around you, clutching you tightly. He fumbled for the edges of his coat, before covering you in them as well, now holding you against his shirt.

“You had me worried ill,” you mumbled, your head buried in the crook of his neck as you relished under his warm touch. “Ghivashel, I wanted nothing more than to write you every day.” He returned, his voice now equally hushed as his hands seemed to grip you even tighter.

“All of my love, all of my love All of my love to you. All of my love, all of my love All of my love to you.”

You might have stood there for minutes, but when you parted, it was still too soon for you. You noticed the faint distress on his face, though it wasn’t enough to immediately alert you. You didn’t know what he had been through, and you wouldn’t ask him just yet. For now, you were simply glad to be reunited with him.

“Get back into your bath,” Thorin spoke, observing your shivering figure. You dismissed him, reaching for the towel. “It can wait.”

However, before you could wrap the fabric around you, his hand halted you. Gently holding your upper arm, he turned you to face him. You didn’t feel ashamed under his gaze. If anything, you felt confident under it. “I’d rather not have you sick,” He mumbled. “You only just got here.”

That made you smile slightly, laying the towel back on its earlier place. You reached your hand up, your fingers lingering on his marital braid, toying with the bead slightly. It had clearly been polished.

“Will you join me?”

“The cup is raised, the toast is made yet again. One voice is clear above the din.”

And that is where you had found yourself right now, in the arms of the dwarf you had fallen for so many years ago, as naked as the day you were born. The water was a warm blanket around you, and his arms were a welcomed addition. You were gently scrubbing the dirt from your arms when your eyes fell upon his leg. Unable to surprise the hiss escaping your mouth, you turned to look at him.

“How did that happen?” You questioned worriedly, before your eyes fell back on his mangled leg. Bruises and cuts littered it, but most apparent of all was the huge cut on his foot. You resisted the urge to lean down and touch it.

“Azog,” He answered through a whisper, sending shivers down your spine. “Azog?” You repeated, looking at him incredulously. “I thought he had died.” “As did I,” He confessed. “But he is truly defeated this time. I made sure of it.”

You didn’t ask him about it. It seemed to not be something he wanted to talk about. Instead, you grabbed one of his arms, wrapping yours around it as you leaned back against his chest. Thorin seemed to relax under the notion, his head coming to rest atop yours. It had given you the perfect opportunity to obverse further extent of his injuries.

“Proud Arianne one word, my will to sustain. For me, the cloth once more to spin, oh.”

“How is the rest?” You wondered after a while, the question almost hesitant on your lips. “Alive,” He answered, the rumble of his voice reverberating through his chest. “Not in great shape.”

Though they were at least alive, it had been what you feared. It must have been the reason he had been so curt over his letter. His mind was easily preoccupied, and the thoughts of his companions in agony would be enough to leave him distracted.

“Your nephews?” You risked, a lump forming in your chest. He was silent for a while, before finally answering: “Fili is on bed rest. Should be back up in a matter of days. Kili doesn’t really talk. Rarely left his brother’s side.”

You hummed in understanding, rubbing soothing patterns over Thorin’s arm. “Reminds me of someone who wouldn’t leave his sister’s side after she fell out of that tree.”

Thankfully, that managed to get something similar to a chuckle out of his throat.

“All of my love, all of my love, All of my love to you. All of my love, all of my love, yes, All of my love to you.”

“They’ll live,” He continued. “I think Kili is more heartbroken than physically injured.” “Naturally,” You tried to understand. “He and his brother are close.” “It’s not that.” Thorin sighed, as if the topic hadn’t been one he would love to discuss.

He placed a kiss on the top of your head before continuing: “He has it out for an elf-maiden.” You let out a quiet ‘ah’ of understanding. “Don’t think the feeling is mutual.” You were silent at that, shaking your head in sadness. “Poor lad.”

“Yes,” Thorin agreed. “I might have let him run off with her if she had returned his efforts.” “Wow,” You added, slightly stunned. “Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”

Another chuckle came from him as he kissed your shoulders, his head now resting beside yours. “He had an awakening. Years too late.” “Yes, well,” You sighed. “The elves are douchebags.” A third chuckle came from him upon your words, his hair falling over your shoulders, the cold metal of the beads creating goosebumps over your skin. It had been a while since you had been so close to him, and the feeling of it had been better than you had originally remembered.

“Yours is the cloth, mine is the hand that sews time. His is the force that lies within.”

Silence struck the pair of you, both of you lost in your thoughts. There were so many things you still wanted to ask him, but you’d wait for debriefing tomorrow. Meanwhile, Thorin had too many things he wanted to tell you. He wanted to tell you about his new friend, about the battle with Azog, the fight against Azog, the reclaiming of Erebor… But there was one thought he couldn’t manage to shake. It was almost as if it was begging to come out.

“I lost my mind, amrâlime,” His voice suddenly cut through the room. “I think you would have left me if you had seen me.” His tone had a much more sombre sound to it than it had held earlier. You could hear him swallow before he continued: “I would have.”

You wanted to turn around in his arms, facing him completely, but his arms wouldn’t let you. He probably didn’t want to let you take a proper look at his face - a notion you hated, but you respected it for now. Instead, you looked at him over your shoulder, your face etched in concern. “Thorin, what happened?”

Another silence split the room, causing your heart rate to pick up slightly. You knew what had happened to his grandfather, and how frightened he had been that it would happen to him too. You remember having to reassure him for weeks before he left that he was stronger than his grandfather. Deep down, you hoped he had just lashed out at the elves and that that had been it.

But fate wouldn’t have it.

“Ours is the fire, all the warmth we can find. He is a feather in the wind, oh.”

“The gold. It got hold of me.” He admitted, his voice almost inaudible had you not been sitting this close to him. His breath was hot on your neck, making you aware of what exactly your proximity was. It wasn’t as if the warm skin on skin contact couldn’t tell that. “I almost killed my company,” He went on, “I let everyone outside Erebor suffer. They were begging for shelter and I let them freeze to death.”

And just like that, you were at loss for words. His greatest fear happened to him. That would explain his letter, and his adamence in revealing anything. If it had shaken you just half as much as it shook you, you couldn’t blame him for any of his actions. You swallowed thickly, doing your best to soothe him: “Did you avenge them?” “I should have let them in.” He ignored.

You sighed at him, understanding his conflict. “Yes,” You admitted. “But did you avenge them?”

He seemed to think that over, seemingly unsure of what to answer. “I fought for all of them.” He ultimately muttered, simultaneously dropping a huge weight from your shoulders.

“Good.” You whispered.

“All of my love, all of my love, All of my love to you. All of my love, all of my love to you now.”

He didn’t respond to that. You didn’t blame him. You felt for the conflict in his head - it was happening in yours as well. Be that as it may, it was up to you now to soothe him. To comfort him in any way you could. And since he wouldn’t allow you to turn around, words would have to work.

“A good king makes wrong decisions, but he always tries to make up for them.” You advised, toying with the ring on his finger. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed to him. It slowly brought him back from his thoughts, but he wasn’t out of the woods just yet: “Wrong decisions don’t include letting the helpless die when I could have easily prevented that.”

You resisted the urge to utter another sigh. Of course this lay heavy on his mind, but what was done was done. He of all people should know this: “You and I have both seen what madness gold brings with it. I think it is a miracle it no longer affects you. Perhaps for the best.”

With those words, he let out a low hum, a first sign of agreement. He knew you were right. But he had promised to never fall under that forsaken dragon spell, and it had taken hold on him as easily as it was to count to three. The idea that it could still happen again frightened him.

“All of my love, all of my love All of my love, love, sometimes, sometimes. Sometimes, sometimes, oh love.”

“I cannot enter the treasure room.” He confessed, the truth sounding even harder when it was spoken aloud. “You don’t have to.” You comforted. “I’d rather you keep from gold than risk losing your mind again. I’d much rather have you like this.”

At last, he allowed you to turn in his arms, his grip loosening slightly. You took the opportunity immediately, putting your legs on either side of his body as you sat in front of him. Now you could see his broken expression.

“Would you have a broken king?”

You gave him a sympathetic smile, grabbing both his hands as you squeezed them in reassurance: “I would have a broken man.”

“It’s all my love All of my love, all of my love, to you now.”

“What happened was unfortunate, I understand.” You emphasised. "But we cannot turn back time.”

One of your hands trailed up to reach his cheek, rubbing it gently, relishing under the touch of his stubble. “Don’t dwell on what could have been. Your company has lived, that is enough. The people have Dale. You did it, Thorin.” He nodded at your words, closing his eyes in silent bliss, leaning into your touch.

“Thank you.” He hummed, before his hands found your back, pulling you against his chest, your skin flush to his. You could feel the burdens lifting from his body in one long sigh, his arms coming to a gentle rest around your figure, his head thrown back in relaxation. Then, he spoke up again: “I haven’t returned to the throne room since the battle.” “I could walk with you.” You offered.

You felt his head shift slightly to look back down at you. “I want you to walk with me everywhere.” You smiled against his chest, kissing it softly. “I can do that.” A hum of content rumbled through him, his voice now a much looser tone. “I am glad you are in my arms again. I’ve missed you.” “The feeling is mutual.” You assured, a fond smile crossing your features.

“Good,” He mumbled. “I love you, amrâlime.” The words shot new butterflies through your stomach, something he always managed to do, regardless how long the two of you had been together. You chuckled at the sound, making yourself comfortable against him.

“I love you.”

“All of my love, all of my love, all of my love to, to you, you, you. I get a little bit lonely.”

#November writings 2023 #the hobbit #th #Tolkien #lotr #thorin #thorin oakenshield #richard armitage #thorin x reader #thorin Oakenshield x reader

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