#i think this part will be my magnum opus out of them all. but who knows theres still 9 to come | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zooone · 8 months

Text

as above, so below

╰┈➤ a grumpy grim reaper falls in love with an optimistic angel.

one sided hatred to lovers; grim reaper!wilbur x angel!reader

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - here it is, my magnum opus. even tho its not done! i had to split this fic in half, so unfortunately there will have to be a part two :( very sorry. but on a lighter note, HUGE HUGEEE thank you to @harbingerofheartbreak. as per usual, she helped me visualized the entire thing and even made some of the plots and ideas that i used. in fact, the original fic was supposed to be a grim reaper x human, but it was florence who thought of the grim reaper x angel prompt and i could not thank her enough. furthermore, she helped keep this fic going and constantly pushed me beyond my limits to do so. the fic was started july 21st and it was supposed to be shelved after a couple weeks, but she made me keep going. she is the best forever and ever go read ynaf. additionally, another big thanks to @starsyoubreaklikesugardust for being another little beta reader for this fic. she always has the greatest ideas known to man and i wanted to run everything by her bcuz it was like having van gogh rate my painting. i had to share this with her earlier than i thought cuz she was threatening me but we dont have to talk about that smile. both of these people helped me so much, and i will forever be in debt to them.

all in all, please please enjoy and give this your love pretty please <3

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - talk of death, religious aspects, and swearing

she had a lot of questions about wilbur.

not the type of, "what's your favorite color?" or "what's your favorite band?" questions. more like, "on a scale of one to ten, how much does being a murderer really affect your mood?"

all of these questions would go unanswered. including "what's your favorite band?" no matter what, she just could not crack the code of wilbur soot.

to say he was intricate would be an understatement, and her ongoing curiosity would surely be the death of her.

unless he had something to do about it.

he stomped away from her on the rooftop as she followed after him.

"i told you to leave me alone," wilbur grunted, trying to speed walk past her with his long scythe trailing behind him. "is that so difficult to understand?"

"i just- i just wanna talk-" she panted, trying to catch up to him. her white dress flowed beneath her, but wilbur tried not to think about it too much.

"no." he made a sharp turn to fully face her, making her nearly bump into him.

her frown was illuminated by her golden halo, making her hair look almost cloud-like. her eyes glimmered like the entire sun was like a clown nose on her face, despite them arguing in the cold of night.

she pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. her halo also lit his face up, and she saw the permanent frown and scrunched up eyebrows under his dark hood.

"why not, wilbur?"

he looked at her like she asked if the moon was real.

"you ruined my job. again." he punctuated his sentence with her name, saying it like he was curling at the nasty taste of it.

he always hated her. there was no mistaking it. he hated the way she giggled and danced around just because she could. he hated the way she spoke, always sounding so bright and happy and fucking naive. he hated her big white wings and her shiny halo.

"there you go talking about your job! like its all that matters to you," she yelled over the continuous honking cars beneath them. "do you even care about anything else in life?"

they weren't even supposed to interact, her being an angel and him being the prince of death. but he was always out doing his grim reaper duties, and she couldn't help but stop him.

he just wanted to follow orders from mumza- the queen of death. every single day that he existed, he had to take the lives of those who were ready. it ate him alive, but it was his only purpose.

"i can't care about everything else in life if i have to care about everything else in death," he grumbled under his breath, making her go silent. he liked her silence, loved it even, because that meant she couldn't criticize him for everything he did.

he would tell her about how angry the job made him. that if he could just switch spots with his brother, the stork, he would be the happiest being in hell. that he hated being the grim reaper almost as much as she hated him.

but if there was anything he really hated, it was opening up to people. and vice versa.

the last time he remotely opened up to someone, it was his mother, and he barely remembered the conversation. it was all the way back when he was welcome to smile. all he could recall was it being something about love, whatever it meant.

"will you please leave me alone now?" he sighed, rubbing his hand in his eye. he watched her eyes go from their usual large state to becoming droopy. she silently nodded her head.

"sorry. goodbye, mr. grim reaper," and the title tore him to shreds. it angered him, over everything else, that all he would be to her was an evil being.

yet, he watched as she jumped from the rooftop, fluttering her wings until she flew away. as she looked back over at him, he couldn't place the odd feeling left in his stomach. if it was guilt or hatred, he would never know.

he would continue to travel, picking up the souls on his way. she always thought he was lucky for being able to travel wherever he wanted. she always wanted to befriend the humans- in fact, she wanted to befriend everyone, but she found it impossible when she was constantly being held back.

he arrived back to hell's palace, a bag in one hand, and his scythe in the other. his head drooped down, avoiding any unnecessary eye contact with the other demons.

that hope would be short lived, however, as a demon took his shoulder as he walked.

"wilbur!" he spoke cheerfully, as if he wasn't living among lava pools and ash.

"quackity," wilbur responded in the same, monotone voice. it made the demon groan.

"quackity-" he mocked, changing his shape to an exact replica of wilbur's. mimic demons, they were called, and they were able to take form of any other being, even adorning their voice. it came in handy for most demon's entertainment, but it certainly didn't faze wilbur.

he stared into the mimic of his face, hating what stared back at him.

"oh come on. that usually works on people," quackity frowned as he twisted himself back to his natural state. he began poking wilbur with his blackened hands. "just give me a little giggle, wilbur."

"no." he'd said the word so much that it rolled perfectly off his tongue. "and for fucks sake, please put on a shirt."

quackity laughed loudly. "we're in hell, wilbur! its hot as- well, hell down here. don't tell me you haven't thought about walking around shirtless either." he paused, putting his hands on wilbur's dark outfit, "or.. hoodless.."

wilbur glared with an unamused look on his face, shrugging quackity's touch off of him and trying to continue walking along his path. walking away from conversations never worked to end them, yet he still tried it.

it would be the second example today that his tactic never worked, because quackity continued to walk along with him into the palace.

"what's the catch today?" he said it like it was a cheer. "did you get the big numbers? beat your high score yet?"

he would say he could feel his blood boil, but the flames in hell already did that.

"no. i don't keep track," he explained simply, pouring his bag's content into the soul sorter. it went to the fates to decide whether the soul was good or bad. simply enough, the good souls would be transported to heaven and the bad ones would stay. sometimes he imagined them debating over a soul's purity. the sound of screams every time he opened the bag would never become easier to stomach.

"bummer," quackity hummed. "why don't you try to make the job a little fun?"

"because i don't want to, okay?" he raised his voice. this time, quackity caught the memo and stayed quiet, except for a "shit, okay." under his breath.

wilbur walked along the palace's stairs, leaving quackity alone in the lobby without another word. this time, walking away from the situation made it stop. the third time really was the charm.

he set his hood down to his shoulders with a sigh, being able to fully see the gold and red palace for what it was. all of the vibrant and bright colors that quite literally clashed with the flames. it was scary and huge, but it was home to him. it was all he'd really known.

he went up to his room, laying on his bed with a groan. sometimes he wished his bed was quite literally made out of feathers, because his back always ached. tommy always said it was because of his "fucking posture", but wilbur knew he had no room to talk. just the thought of him jumping into a big pile of fluffy feathers made his bones ease a little more.

he would spend the night rolling around in his not-feather bed, having issues with his sleep. it was such a frequent problem for him that it was barely even a problem. just how he existed.

and, meanwhile, she would spend her "night" (in quotations. it never got dark in heaven.) staring up at the sun, wondering what sort of buttons she could've possibly pushed with wilbur to make him hate her. it was a recurring thought, but it kept her up too frequently.

the worst part about waking up was simply that. waking up. wilbur would roll out of bed, fluff up his hair a little bit, put on the same clothes, and be going. he went through the same routine every day and he hated it. but at the same time, if anyone disrupted his routine, he'd be angered.

"wilbur!"

and his routine was ruined.

"morning, tommy," he muttered, wiping the sleep from his eyes with a yawn. he couldn't be bothered to be angry this early, and definitely not to tommy. "aren't you supposed to be in heaven right now?"

"i'm on break," tommy said in a matter-of-fact tone. he stretched his arms and his wings with a groan, leaving some stray yellowed feathers behind. "delivering babies to peoples' doors is quite the workout."

wilbur barely registered his words, staring idly past tommy. his eyes wandered more on a decoration on a table behind him. he didn't even notice that tommy had continued speaking until he put his hands on his hips and sighed.

"yeah. both mum and dad really like me!" tommy spoke, ruffling his hands through his hair until he realized his goggles were in the way. the mention of phil darkened his mood.

"mum told you to stop calling him 'dad'," wilbur spoke monotone and simple, as usual.

and as usual, tommy groaned at wilbur's monotone voice and simple words, slouching down. "she also told you to stop being so fucking gloomy."

wilbur felt the need to do a lot of things; one- hit tommy with his scythe, two- tell tommy what a privileged asshole he sounded like, and three- do both at the same time. but wilbur had an okay-ish perception of tommy, growing up alongside the boy took a lot. but as annoying as the boy was, he was wilbur's company. even if he would rather swallow his scythe than to admit it aloud.

instead of acting on his mental list of intrusive thoughts, wilbur only sighed. he didn't bother to pick the conversation back up, his eyes wandering to the decoration again. had they always had that there? it looks off-centered.

"well," tommy noticed wilbur's spacing and patted his shoulder as he walked towards the stairs. "good luck today."

wilbur stared blankly through the fringe of sweaty hair on his forehead. inside, he was trying to form whatever a smile was. "thank you, tommy."

he watched as tommy jumped down the stairway, yellow tufts of hair flying with him. he heard a shout from down below, "and don't forget to fix your posture!"

wilbur scoffed in response, sounding more uninterested than he intended to, but ultimately pulling his shoulders back. a new day! a new window of opportunity! is what wilbur would think, if he wasn't wilbur.

he grabbed the railing of the stairway, his pale thin hand contrasting with the gold. he stared at his feet the entire time stepping down. he'd already forgotten about "fixing his posture".

he made his way down the lobby, not getting a chance to speak to his mother due to the abundance of demons lined up, trying to tell her that she was making a mistake. it was typical, but it still left bags under her eyes. wilbur only gave her a timid wave as a greeting before exiting through the palace's doors.

he dragged his tacky shoes through the red dirt beneath him, watching as tiny rocks rolled along his feet before stopping. he almost ran head first into the elevator due to how long he kept his gaze down, but luckily he saved himself from the mental embarrassment.

he stepped inside, proving his identity to the machine far more times than he needed to. mimic demons would always try to steal his finger print to use the elevator and get themselves back onto earth, but it was never successful. he had a keycard, just in case the identity proving didn't work. tommy had the same.

as the doors parted and he made a careful step out, he did his daily greeting to the guard (his daily greeting being a casual glare and a furrow of his eyebrows) and used his scythe to poke himself out.

from the surface, it would simply look like a boulder being turned over. but as wilbur stepped onto the grass, he took a moment to breathe. the air on earth was far better than the smoke in hell. he would spend a great deal of time taking a couple deep breaths, appreciating the silence, oh the lovely sound of absolutely nothing-

"wilbur! there you are!"

he almost screamed. instead, he only turned to the source of the way-too-cheerful voice, saying her name in utter disbelief. "what are you doing here?"

he didn't speak as if he were asking a question. he wasn't actually interested in why she was here in the grass with her elegant white dress and her annoyingly wide smile, using her wings to shield herself from the sun, even if they were translucent.

"i was waiting for you!" she squeaked, getting up from her spot in the grass and practically skipping up towards him. she had what looked to be a gardener's nightmare in her hands. "this is for you!"

before he could say another word, she pushed his hood off of his head. she had to use her wings to reach the top of his hair, but she was still able to run her hand through his brown waves. and as she giggled, she placed her makeshift flower crown on his head.

she pushed herself away- still hovering on her wings, and took a long, meaningful look at him. "you look great!"

"i feel disgusting," he said with anger, taking the weeds out of his hair and stuffing them sloppily into his bag. "why did you do that."

she looked at him with a frown, but still tried to make herself sound happy. her halo flickered softly. "it.. it was supposed to be a gift for you."

"yeah? well i hated it," he squinted his gaze down at her, and she could feel herself shrinking the more and more he looked.

she stayed quiet, the halo above her head still flicked on and off. she looked at him with nothing but a frown, lowering herself so that her feet hit the ground.

what she failed to notice was that he unfurrowed his brows ever so slightly upon seeing her upset.

"let me just get going, okay?" he spoke, trying to make his voice a little bit softer but still keeping the agonizing punch in there.

she spoke quieter now. "i have one more thing for you."

wilbur flinched, fully expecting a glitter bomb to come out of her pocket. but to his surprise, it wasn't.

she pulled out a pack of gummy worms, handing it to him with a pitiful smile on her face. he took it, examining it slowly.

"why is it open?" he took another look at it and realized it was almost half empty.

"umm.. i got a little hungry waiting for you," she mumbled, playing with the hem of her dress. "you were taking a little bit long."

"and speaking of which, i've been talking to you for a little bit too long," he retorted, crumpling up the bag of gummy worms in his palm. the sides of the bagging were practically fighting with the cage he made out of his fingers.

he began to walk in the opposite direction, debating in his mind exactly how long it would take to make his way out of the field and to the nearest trash can. she quickly followed behind him, almost tripping on herself in the process.

"hey- i didn't expect a hello from you, but a thank you would at least be nice!" she yelled as he speed-walked away with his grumpy walk and stone shoulders. "i'm talking to you!"

"and i'm not," he grumbled, fiddling to put his hood back onto his head as a way of closing himself off.

"just-" she flapped her wings, trying to be alongside him. "just have some gummy worms, please?"

he glared, slightly squinting from the piercing light of her halo. "maybe later."

"right now."

as much as he didn't want to, he stopped dead in his tracks. his stare was hurtful and his hand clenched onto his scythe. that was the most demanding he'd ever heard of her.

there was a voice in his head telling him to leave, to just let her have the last word and be gone. but he felt like he couldn't move.

"excuse me?" he only said, scrunching his eyebrows up.

"i want you to have them right now," she enunciated her words, crossing her arms and trying to copy his expression. she was fighting her usual bright smile under her pursed lips. "in front of me."

he blinked, almost starstruck. "why?"

she seemed nearly surprised at his one word question, her stern voice softening slightly. "you look like you haven't been taking care of yourself," as she spoke through a pout, he could feel his face warming up, like tiny little punching bags beneath his skin. "i wanna make sure you're eating."

he hated the feeling of his cheeks going warm. he slept in hell, obviously he knew what warmth was. but for some reason it felt even weirder when it was behind his skin. he cleared his throat with a cough.

"this? you think this is healthy?" he held up the crumpled, half-empty bag, speaking with his forceful actions.

she went quiet again, only speaking loud enough for him to hear. "i couldn't afford anything else at the gas station."

the feeling of warmth in his cheeks soon boiled over into anger. "you couldn't afford anything else?" he repeated in disbelief, "you are quite literally an angel! you're invisible to the human eye! it is so easy for you to steal."

"but i don't wanna be a bad person!" she copied his raised voice, standing on her tiptoes as almost a challenge. "i leave money in the cash register for the man. you know, he's really struggling. he could use the money. his name is robert, i think-"

"i don't care!" wilbur screamed, cutting her off completely. she flinched at his voice, feeling overwhelmed tears start to prickle from her eyes. she hid behind her wings, afraid that he might do something drastic.

he felt his shoulders shrink at her reaction, but ultimately grumbled and opened the pack of gummy worms. he hesitated, holding out the candy in front of him.

she opened her eyes from her flinch, and saw him sniffing the gummy worm. a smile spread across her face. "you just.. take a bite out of it."

"i know," he muttered. he was already mad enough that he had to eat it, he didn't want to be instructed on how.

"oh.. okay. i mean- i just kinda assumed that you didn't know because i don't think there are gummy worms in hell. they'd get all sticky and stuff. at least, that's what i've heard. are there really no gummy worms in hell?"

he looked at her with no amusement on his face. she looked right back at him, however, wanting an answer to her long winded question that was somehow said in a singular breath.

"no… no there aren't," he spoke slowly, raising an eyebrow at her. "are there gummy worms in heaven?"

why was he making conversation with her? he should be out collecting souls right now, not talking about stupid little gummy worms with this stupid little angel. he mentally slapped himself in the face, cringing with a shake of his head.

"no, there aren't," she batted her eyelashes like she was trying to think for a moment. "but phil sometimes gives me money for gummy worms. i share it with the others!"

he was barely registering her words, his mind still clouded with the mental boxing match he was having with himself. he was being stupid. not even the mention of phil was able to knock him from his thoughts.

"hey," she waved her hand in his face, acting as the referee and stopping his boxing match. he was almost at a knockout. "you've been making that face for a while. do you not like gummy worms?"

wilbur didn't know how to really respond to the question, having never even tried gummy worms before. he looked back at her. she had her full attention on him, waiting for another answer that he would hopefully not blunder.

"it's.. it's fine."

he definitely blundered.

he ignored it, not ready for a round two fight, and put the gummy worm in his mouth.

she leaned forward. "how is it?"

it was about the best damn thing he's ever had.

"it's.. okay, i guess."

"great!" she jumped- fucking jumped. "im sure you have to be on your way for your very important job-"

he completely forgot about his being the grim reaper, straightening up suddenly with widened eyes and tightening his grip on his scythe. he cursed under his breath, running towards the direction of the city.

"hey, i didn't finish!" she called out, catching up to him once more with flaps of her wings.

"i can't talk. you've already made me late enough," his hood almost fell off in the wind with how quickly he was running. "fuck, mum's gonna be pissed."

she would, in fact, not be pissed. she was always far too busy to even greet wilbur or tommy, and they hadn't done any sort of domestic activity in what felt like an eternity. he tried to convince himself that he didn't care, that she was just busy with being the queen of death, but it was extremely lonely.

there wasn't any time for them to really speak. they were both always busy and family meals were long forgotten. in fact, wilbur had never eaten in front of another person before. the most he'd done was eat some boring, rotten food while sitting on his floor with tommy- and even then, he was only picking at it idly with his fork.

he found comfort in eating alone. there was no one there to judge him or to argue. it was just him, his thoughts, and the literal grayed out food they had in hell. but there was something always so reminiscent about having food with another person, even if it was just something like dessert.

"oh," she sighed, moving her wings idly. she watched as he ran away without another look. her arms swung at her sides in an almost confused fashion. "okay. um- hope you like your gummy worms! bye wilbur!"

at least she didn't call him mr. grim reaper again.

he didn't care, anyway, just trying to get to work on the job he obviously hated. but when he stopped to catch his breath, he couldn't help but stare at the pack of gummy worms in his sweaty palms, the colorful designs contrasting his dull looking hand.

he looked around. it looked like there were no cheerful angels in sight, so he figured himself to be safe. he popped another gummy worm into his mouth, scrunching his nose at the taste of something so impossibly sweet. it was a pleasant change from the tasteless foods in hell, and the addictive sweetness coated his tongue for a while.

he stuffed the rest of the pack into his bag, appreciating how empty it was without the souls inside it- a temporary feeling.

wilbur already felt like he'd wasted enough time, and got to work. bringing people to death's door wasn't exactly the easiest job.

he started with a car crash, wincing at the amount of shattered glass and blood everywhere. he fell sick to his stomach with a nasty feeling bubbling up in his throat. all those years dealing with death and it still never got easier to see the causes.

he held his scythe up slowly, shutting his eyes in a flinch. he thought of a thousand things all at once, trying to focus on one. they have to die. i have to put them out of their misery. they're dying because they have to, not because i chose to.

he took a breath, feeling like needles were going up his nose and into his lungs, and swung the weapon down.

it sunk through the person's body without struggle, opening up a passageway for him. he removed his scythe carefully, as if it would hurt them.

he sat on his knees next to the car. although his body was phantom-like against the gravel, he could still feel the roughness under him.

he held a cold hand to the person's back, trying to ignore how it looked to see the life drain from under their eyelids and filter out onto his palm. as soon as he could no longer feel a nauseating pull on his hand, he lifted it gently. he watched as the soul threaded directly off the person, catching onto his fingertips.

he didn't bother to take a closer look at it. the last thing he wanted was to remind himself that these people were actually human. he only took it in his palms, mushing it until it turned into a small circular shape. he put it in his bag, not caring to look at what else was in it.

wilbur would continue to follow through with that sequence throughout the day, as he usually did. scythe, hand, soul, bag. when he was growing up, mumza told him that he would be used to it in no time. but as "no time" passed, he still felt like throwing up after each day.

he made his way down the elevator, his shoulders stinging with the weight of his bag. the souls were practically weightless, but gathering so many into his bag made it sag down. he held his scythe with two hands, his arms being too sore to function properly on their own.

tommy was waiting for him at the steps of the palace, ignoring everyone lined up at the doors. his elbow was on his knee, and his face was being held up in his palm. he had been playing with a stone, trying to break it with his fingertips.

"wilbur," he automatically sprung up upon seeing his brother. he used to go in for hugs, however stopped shortly after wilbur started discussing how much he hated them. "mum wants to see you. says its important."

wilbur took time to react to his words, feeling like his bones weren't his. he only hummed an, "oh. okay," as he made his way up the steps, his feet barely dragging behind him.

"wait-" tommy called out, making wilbur almost freeze on cue. "i was.. i was wondering if you wanted to hang out by the fountain.. of wishes. the one up there. like- like we used to..?"

wilbur's breath stalled, stopping in his lungs. he'd barely even remembered it, but was holding back a smile at the memory.

that smile became easy to suppress as it slowly disappeared. he remembered all of it.

"mum doesn't want us talking to phil," was all wilbur muttered. he finally took a breath, his chest rising and falling with a sigh. "sorry."

"its not like that anymore!" tommy tried, throwing his hands up in the air in an almost child-like fashion. "they've changed, phil especially! i talked to him the other day, and-"

"mum doesn't want us talking to phil, tommy," he enunciated it slower this time. watching tommy's shoulders shrink, a sinking grayness fell over his face like a cloud was above him.

"yeah. okay," tommy sighed with a shake of his head. he played with the calloused skin on his fingers. "you're right."

wilbur stood there for a great deal of time. as much as it physically pained him, he felt a trapped sensation in his chest.

"tommy?" he spoke softly, barely enough for the both of them to hear. "you're a good kid."

he left before tommy could respond, expecting the boy to make some stupid remark about how soft he was turning. tommy didn't react that way, however. he stood alone on the steps, taking breaths watching as wilbur walked away.

wilbur made his way past the screaming, impatient people. he was always hateful towards loud noises as they made his skin crawl. he thought maybe that was the reason he hated the angel's voice so much.

there he went again thinking of that stupid angel. if he'd given her any more room in his mind, she'd have to pay the rent.

shaking his head from stupid thoughts, he called his mother's name, gaining her attention.

"wilbur," she spoke softly, her voice too tired from all the demons and ghosts she spoke to. her black hair hung over her face messily, but it was covered by a large lacy hat. "how are you?"

wilbur knew she wasn't actually curious about how he was feeling. it was just a filler for the missing years of his childhood.

"i'm doing well," a lie, "tommy said you wanted to talk to me?"

he saw his mother's face light up, as if she'd just remembered something blatantly obvious. wilbur could imagine her thoughts- "oh, thats my son, i forgot."

she fished for something on a table near her large throne. it looked more shiny than any angel's halo. damn it, why was he thinking about her again?

"here," she handed an envelope to him with her large hand. he hesitated in taking it. "the messenger said it was for you. you don't usually get mail, so i figured it was important."

wilbur stared at the wax seal, the intricate pattern almost painful to stare at for too long. "are you sure this is for me? im not-"

"im so sorry, wilbur," her eyebrows disappeared into the shape of her hat as she put a hand to her black gown. "i have to get going talking to these people," she motioned to the line in front of her. "i also have a super busy day. i have to-"

"its fine, mum," he cut her off just as she did to him. he couldn't feel any remorse for his lack of formality. "you're.. doing great."

he spared himself from the long speech his mother always gave about how busy she was. it was always a drag to hear. tommy said it was her way of indirectly apologizing for not giving him family meals- but wilbur always thought that if he was right, she would directly say it.

in all honesty, however, he missed being able to sit next to someone and eat something.

the black lipstick on her face formed into a smile. "thank you, wilbur," she sighed, her body already facing the demon she was talking to last. "and tell me what the letter is!"

"i will," another lie. he was really great at them because she could barely ever hear them.

as he was going to the soul sorter, he turned the letter over in his hand, squinting at the written address. it read, "hell's palace (if it's real! i've never been there but i've heard about it!) for wilbur!" with a bunch of hearts and smiley faces. wilbur felt himself go sick to the stomach, nearly tripping on himself.

it was probably that stupid angel trying to give him a pity letter that he didn't want. he scowled at the thought as he emptied his bag into the soul sorter.

that dumb little angel, who did she think she was? did she genuinely think that wilbur would soften up to her because of a little letter with hearts all over it?

but as wilbur was coming up with more mean adjectives, items had been rejected from the soul sorter, and fell out.

it was her flower crown and gummy worms.

wilbur felt his angered expression slowly fade away like sand in an hourglass. he stared at the objects on the ground by his feet.

he was reminded of her soft smile as she put the flower crown on his head, her gentle touches to his hair like he was delicate. or how she forced him to eat fucking gummy worms because of his health.

he could feel the tiniest sliver of a smile peeking out from the corners of his lips. no, what was he doing? that angel was always so judgemental of him. from the moment they first met, she was always criticizing his job and she was always being rude to him.

but, she still cared about him.

wilbur didn't know how to react to that thought. his stomach felt like it was clawing its way out of him, and that weird, warm feeling came back to his face. he hated it.

he bent over, picking up the flowers and gummy worms. he held them in his hands and under his robe, just in case someone saw him holding them.

he quickly went up the stairs, cutting the corner to his room so that no one saw him. he set the flowers, gummy worms, and letter on his desk, his hands propping him up. he stared, yet again, at the objects until he realized- he hadn't even opened her letter yet.

he took a sharp inhale, his fist pressed so hard against the table that he didn't even register the fact that his hands were shaking. he leaned back, taking the envelope with him.

sure enough, it was from her.

"dear wilbur!

hi! i hope this delivered to the right address. i thought mail would be easier in the afterlife, but it really isn't. i hope you're okay!! i hope you didn't hate the gummy worms too much and that you are taking care of yourself! get plenty of sleep please.

i was writing to ask if you wanted to meet me for ice cream! i asked phil, and he said that ice cream would melt in hell too, so i wanted to have some with you. i can show you all the good flavors and everything.

it would be tomorrow, i've listed the time and address below. i hope to see you there!

ps. you better come with a full eight hours of sleep!"

he read over the letter at least a thousand times, his eyes glazing all over the hearts and smiley faces that she used to punctuate each sentence. he felt like he was going to throw up his ugly, beating heart. he didn't know if he should write back or even show up.

it would be his first time properly eating in front of someone in a while, and the thought made him nervous, almost.

as if to taunt him, tommy burst into the room, the sudden loud noise making wilbur scream. he hid the letter on his desk behind him.

"woah," tommy put his hand up to almost shush wilbur, as if he were some wild tiger. "calm down, man."

"sorry-" wilbur straightened himself up, coughing out of awkwardness. he felt his skin melting off of him, and he wanted something to make the tense air easier. "tommy, can you cover for me tomorrow?"

oh god. was he really that desperate to start a conversation?

tommy's eyebrows disappeared into his golden tufts of hair, a confused look grazing his face. "you want me to what?"

"cover.. for me?" he couldn't even believe the words he was saying. "i have a.. thing tomorrow-" no he didn't. he wasn't gonna go. "and.. i need someone to do my job."

"what thing? its not like you have a.." tommy's words trailed off as he stared at his brother in terror. "do you?"

"do i have a what..?" wilbur spoke with confusion as tommy gawked at him. he stage whispered, as if someone were watching.

"do you have a date?"

wilbur's chest bloomed with an awful sensation, his heartbeat picking up and pounding against his ribs. "what? no, i-" he felt like his mouth was stuffed with tar and feathers. "no, of course not, tommy."

"okay! okay," the boy held his gloved hands up in defense, backing away from a powder keg in the form of his brother. "but, whatever it is, how do i cover for you?"

wilbur dropped his tensed shoulders. "you always talk about how easy my job seems, right?"

"what?" tommy screeched, his gold wings flinching with him. "but- but you're the prince of death and i'm the prince of life! how am i supposed to do that?"

wilbur felt his stomach churn at the comparison. he hated the way people would always say "the prince of death" like it would curse the next seven generations of life. his eyebrows furrowed like caterpillars above his eyes.

"then at least pretend that i'm working," he muttered. "it's gonna be easy. i'm sure mum won't even notice."

tommy's lips shifted as he bit the inside of his cheek. he knew wilbur was right. mumza barely said hi to him too.

"okay," tommy sighed as his shoulders fell in defeat. he pointed a finger at wilbur, "but you owe me big time!"

wilbur nodded in response, shooing tommy away with a flick of his hand. tommy listened (although not shutting the door properly), and left his brother alone in his room. the letter was still hidden behind him.

he sighed, feeling his lungs shrink intensely. he had no clue what to do or how to pull it off.

wilbur went to sleep earlier that night, trying to fulfill her promise to get eight hours of sleep. when he woke up, he could feel his bones almost moving on their own. it felt odd to not have the burden of being the soul taking grim reaper.

he looked at himself in the mirror. he looked nothing short of depressing.

he walked over to his closet, sighing as he was face to face with the same rotten black robes he wore. people always trashed on tommy for owning the same white, red sleeved shirt, but wilbur wasn't any better with his duplicates.

he groaned, his head falling in a near defeat. though, he could see a small glint of yellow. hesitating, he picked it up, taking off his cloak to put it on.

it was a really old sweater that phil got him many years ago. back before everything went down the gutter. he ran his thumb down the frayed material. by some miracle, it still fit him.

he looked at himself in his mirror, scowling when he saw who stared back. he looked nothing like how he usually did, and that slight bit of color changed him. the yellow fabric, even when old, still popped out more than his pale skin did.

still, something felt like it was missing. his glasses, maybe? he set the frames on his scrunched face, pushing it up his nose with the back of his hand. that didn't seem to work.

he looked over at his desk, his bottom lip plumped out as he thought. he gave a long stare to the flower crown, feeling his chest tighten and warm with a disgusting feeling. he picked up the flower crown- more delicately than he'd like to admit, and placed it on his tufts of brown as he stared at his reflection.

his mouth hung open. he looked completely different now. there were so many colors and shapes for him to process. and were the dark spots under his eyes really that prominent?

although, even with the wave of confusion, it felt almost comforting. he tried his best at a smile, but shook his head. too far.

wilbur shuffled through the underworld quickly, trying his best not to be seen- and especially not by quackity.

"tommy," quackity stage whispered, gaining the boy's attention. "what the hell's he doing?"

tommy took his place beside quackity, looking to where he was pointing. he scowled. "dude, i kid you not, he's got a fucking date."

quackity scoffed a laugh before looking at tommy. his face was still scrunched in disapproval, his wings idle behind him. quackity’s expression dropped. “wait- you’re serious? he’s actually got a date?”

“that’s what i’m thinking!” tommy’s voice screeched suddenly. he looked and sounded like a bird. “i’ve never seen him wearing something so.. colorful. and look at his fucking posture!”

they watched in amusement as wilbur jammed his finger on the elevator button, trying to get the doors open as he looked around frantically. he hadn’t even noticed, but his shoulders were in fact more pushed back.

he stared at his reflection in front of him, bringing a hand into his hair to even it out. flowers were still scattered around in his hair and it was as if he were producing a trail of petals behind him. he let out a groan as the doors finally parted, and he stepped in.

“who is it with?” quackity asked, holding his chin. his other hand was dug into his pocket. a small, rectangular figure lining the fabric. “do you know?”

tommy turned to quackity with a serious look on his face, as if he were speaking about a universe killing secret rather than who wilbur was eating ice cream with. “you didn’t hear it from me,” he emphasized his words, “but i keep overhearing this angel talking to phil about wilbur. its weird- especially when you think about how phil and wilbur think about each other.”

tommy grimaced at his own words. he could tell how much it cut the mood. it was practically taboo to say wilbur and phil’s name in the same sentence- let alone even mention phil in the underworld. even with tommy trying to get them to forgive each other, the thought of them ever eating at the same dinner table was unfathomable.

quackity interrupted the tension filled silence by asking the angel’s name. tommy gave it without a second thought, but eventually had to repeat it for quackity to properly hear. they were stood outside the pit of lost souls, a place that the forgotten demons would go. they served no purpose in hell as long as they were somehow remembered by someone on earth. it was always a loud area, having literal burning souls inside.

“huh..” quackity hummed, repeating the angel’s name again. “you think they’ll become a thing?”

“no, definitely not,” tommy huffed, laughing as if quackity was telling a knock-knock joke. “he’s too grumpy to actually function around another being.”

“i say give the guy some slack! he deserves at least a chance," quackity protested. "twenty bucks."

"you're betting on his love life?" tommy asked, but quackity stood still with a smirk on his face with his hand out. "fine. deal."

as they shook on their bet, tommy grumbled, his wings tensing up with him. a plan was forming itself in quackity’s mind, his hand patting the lining of his shorts.

“he’s probably up there making out with her right now.”

wilbur, in fact, was not. he was standing on the distant sidewalk, watching her from afar. she sat on the concrete with her legs crossed, looking like her mind was in another galaxy. wilbur on the other hand, stood with his clammy hands at his sides. his palms never sweat as badly as this, and it was making him unsettled. he tried his best to wipe his hands off on his sleeve, but it only made them damp and warm. he sucked in a breath, ignoring it and walking up towards her.

when he caught her eye, her never-ending smile only widened. she stood up to properly face him, looking at him from the top of his flower-ridden hair down to his shoes. “wilbur?”

“hi.. hi-” his voice cracked, and he tried to cover it up with a fake cough. now his throat wasn’t working. “um, i didn’t know.. i wasn’t sure if.. i-”

“you look really nice!” she interrupted, saving him the embarrassment. he let out a mix of a smile and a relieved sigh, muttering his thanks. “and it looks like you actually slept.”

“i did,” he mumbled, adjusting the collar of his bunchy sweater. suddenly, he could feel every texture touching his body. “eight hours.. just like you asked..”

“it wasn’t so difficult, was it?” she giggled, and the noise stabbed wilbur a thousand times in the stomach.

“actually, it was,” he bit the inside of his cheek, rocking back and forth on his heels with nervousness. “my bed is a literal stone. i wish it were made out of feathers.”

“maybe your dream will come true some time! come on, let’s make a wish,” she tilted her head, closing her eyes and putting her palms together. “i wish wilbur’s bed was made out of feathers!”

“..is that gonna work?” he tilted his head in her direction.

“hm.. i don’t know. but i always like to try it,” she hummed with satisfaction, putting her hands back at her sides. “can i tell you a secret? i’ve always wanted to visit the fountain of wishes.”

the name rung a bell all the way in the back of wilbur’s mind. he remembered his father telling him stories every night about the fountain of wishes. he scowled at the thought of hin. phil would tell wilbur that his only wish was to meet a beautiful woman, but look where that got him.

“what would you wish for?” he asked, trying to shift the gears of his mind.

“i don’t know,” she said, contently, leaning forward to grab his hand. “maybe i’ll think of something later.”

wilbur flinched, something she didn’t see because she was dragging him into the store. he wondered if she could feel how damp and warm his palms were, but it looked like she didn’t mind. for some reason, their hands seemed to magically fit together like puzzle pieces.

his mind was churning again, thinking about the unknown feeling running through him. he felt suddenly aware of everything around him, and it was awful. yet, she kept giggling and smiling like it was just another day. he envied her power of optimism, even if it was the same thing he disliked about her.

uncomfortably, his mind felt as if he was put in a room of a thousand people, contributing and understanding each one of their conversations. as overwhelming as it was, it was how his brain regularly worked. how he somehow managed to get even an ounce of sleep every night, he'll never know.

his thoughts were unraveling before he could roll them back up, feeling tired of aimlessly following the long film of this and that and-

"do you have a favorite flavor?"

it all snapped away.

"uh- um, well, um-"

how was she able to do that?

"oh, right," she giggled. somehow, in the thousand person room that took place in his mind, her small laugh was the only thing bouncing off his skull. "you've never had ice cream before."

unable to process the sudden quiet of his mind, he simply shook his head. "n-no, i haven't."

"try this!" she held out a scoop of her favorite flavor and wilbur stared at it like it was a cure to the common cold.

shakily, he took it. even if it only existed as a transparent-phantom thing, he was surprised that it didn't slip out of his sweaty hands.

"do.. do i bite-"

"just give it a small lick. i know it'll be cold, but it'll taste good," her words felt like a small promise to him, the most comforting thing he'd heard in a while. yet, it was like talking about the weather to her.

god, what was the feeling? he couldn't exactly pinpoint it at all.

he followed her directions, scrunching his brows in a slight concern as he stuck his tongue out. she was right, it was cold. terribly cold. he thought his tongue would get stuck to it like in the old christmas movies tommy forced him to watch.

and yet, it tasted terribly good. it was such an unfamiliar feeling on his tongue, but it somehow had a certain kick that he enjoyed.

he smacked his lips a couple times, and nodded slightly, mumbling his words. "y-yeah, i like that one."

"great!" she spoke, going over to grab the ice cream scooper. the real thing stood still on the table, but the translucent version was in her hands as she scooped up some of the flavor. as long as she put it back in the right place, nothing would be messed up too badly.

as she finished up scooping her cone, she sighed dramatically. "oh gods, i forgot to get cash."

"you don't need to give him cash, angel, he won't even notice."

his tongue went numb- not from the ice cream, but from the small nickname he'd given her.

it was a small gesture, and he could probably play it off, but it stirred his intestines until he felt like throwing them up. he'd never willingly give someone a nickname. ever.

and the worst part? she noticed.

"did you call me angel?" she stopped her fit of panic over invisible cash to look at him, the corner of her mouth lifting in an asymmetrical smile.

"well- yeah, because you're.. you're an angel," wilbur stumbled, unable to pull something out of thin air. he's lied many times. to his mom, to tommy, to quackity. but for some reason lying to her didn't feel right on his tongue. "a-and you.. have a halo.. and stuff.."

she noticed how he fiddled with his fingers, and decided to spare him of the embarrassment by switching the topic to her day. she seemed passionate with talking about every small thing she'd done, and wilbur admired her attitude.

wilbur prided himself in his writing. his pen and paper were like a magical escape from his burdens. he had a specific way with words that would always get him praised by his parents when he was younger. but despite that, he was completely lost on a word to describe his feelings.

she dragged him back outside without a care in the world, looking around like she owned the place. she pointed to a bench, talking about how it was her favorite bench (to which wilbur began to wonder how one could have a favorite bench), and began guiding them towards it.

in the midst of her excitement, however, she made a wrong step on the curb and yelped. wilbur noticed this quickly, bringing a quick hand to her waist to catch her.

"woah, are you alright-?" he brought her back up carefully, checking to make sure that her and her ice cream were still intact. he checked both off in his mind.

"yeah- yeah i'm fine-" she muttered, and it was the first time he'd ever seen a glint of gloominess on her face. "sorry- that was embarrassing-"

"no need to be embarrassed," wilbur's tone was calm. not a monotone calm, but an assuring calm. one that was stranger to her too.

his hand remained still on her waist, his fingers trembling in such small beats. “wilbur?” her gaze slowly met his, and she could see a small droplet of worry beneath the pools of his irises. “can i tell you something?”

he nodded slowly, eyebrows furrowing in such a concerned manner that it almost cut his forehead in half. with his hand still on her waist, he guided her carefully to the bench.

she looked at the pavement, her words coming out in a string of small mumbles that made him feel like they were the only two beings ever. just him, an angel, and a bench. “i don’t.. i don’t usually tell people this,” she fiddled with the hem of her dress, her wings draping over the back of the bench. “but.. the- the way i-i d..”

wilbur stared at the angel- the carefree, optimistic, happy angel; while she broke down bit by bit. he felt like he was almost breaking the law, that he wasn’t allowed to see such a sight. but most importantly, he felt like he needed to help.

he was always gentle, there was no denying it. he spent a lot of time as a child examining bugs (which he called “friends”) and making sure they were okay. and the urge to care for anything in need grew with him, even as everything else changed.

he noticed that his hand was still on her hip, and he drew her closer to his body. the small gesture made her startled, but she quickly grew accustomed to his touch. she felt safe, and wilbur knew that.

she took a deep breath, and spoke. “we were playing a game of hide-and-seek,” she whispered, “i-i was always clumsy, everyone made fun of me.. nobody..”

her words trailed off again, and wilbur felt his heart aching. “nobody..?”

“nobody really.. liked.. me,” she huffed, her face turning away from him. he could tell that she didn’t speak about this much. “everyone hated me, actually. like you do..”

his heart was wrapped in thorns.

it was the clearest thing she’d said. like she had so much time to think about it and deduct it. he wanted to say something, wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her and scream at her. but he didn’t. he couldn’t- he felt paralyzed.

“i guess i tripped and fell or something, a-and i-” a bile swelled her throat. “it hurt. a lot. i was- i was screaming and crying for help b-but everyone ignored me. except for..”

her head lifted as she looked at him. it was the type of look in which he could study each pigment on her face, and he’d be able to use the rosiness of her cheeks to paint a breathtaking portrait.

“except for you.”

she smiled. and even through tears, her expression lit up the earth.

“me?” he whispered softly.

immediately, she nodded. she was so close to his face that she could see a tiny cut to the right of his adam’s apple. she suppressed a giggle as she thought about him struggling to shave, making all sorts of faces into his mirror.

“i was so scared and alone.. and then you came along with your big scythe and your scary hood. and you plunged your scythe into me chest- gods, i was so scared,” she giggled briefly at the thought, but her expression was genuine. “but you gave me peace.”

she leaned closer, wanting to wrap her arms around him and die a second time like that. but she knew he’d hate it.

“it was all i wanted in that moment.”

his eyes were droopy, staring from her left eye, to her right, and down at her parted lips. she was nothing short of beautiful. looking at her for that long felt like a mere privilege, forcing him to be speechless.. he squeezed her hip tighter just to hold her.

“i.. i wanted to thank you..” she whispered, so quiet that her vocal chords barely buzzed.

in his peripheral vision, he noticed how her eyelids fluttered softly. his sight blurred as she leaned in closer, and-

“but you always hated me.”

she leaned back in the seat, and wilbur’s disappointment split him in two. she was right there- right fucking there, but she was so out of reach. the only barrier? his own loathing. the irony of hating his hatred felt like a stab wound to his thorn-crowned heart.

and the worst part; she was unphased.

wilbur gulped as a stack of words piled themselves in his throat. that nasty, overwhelming feeling running through him again. “angel, i-”

“so, what’s your favorite color?” she asked in a light tone, licking at her ice cream.

a wave of dismay washed over his face. he couldn’t think. “t-teal?”

“really? i wouldn’t have guessed that,” she swung her legs beneath the bench, clearly unbothered by wilbur’s confusion. “you don’t really dress like a teal-lover. do you think the moon is real?"

what?

"no, bad question. hmm. what’s your favorite band?”

his heart fell into the pit of his stomach, thorns poking at his sides creating a terrible sting on his abdomen. he opened his mouth to speak- maybe cry and release his feelings; but nothing came up. not even an answer to her stupid question. it was nauseating.

she began talking about the sort of music she liked, but none of it struck his brain. he felt sick. he wanted to scream and sob and punch something. but he sat still like he was posing for a renaissance painting.

“hey, that reminds me,” she stood up abruptly, pointing her finger upwards, despite going unnoticed by wilbur. “i gotta get cash for the ice cream man! i’ll be right back.”

he didn’t even realize she spoke, even when she was repeating his name and trying to get his attention.

why was he disappointed at the lost opportunity? why did he want to curl up in a ball and tug his hair out? what was that stupid feeling that was haunting him all afternoon? it was tearing him apart limb by limb. what was the word, what was-

oh.

it was love. he loved her. it was as simple as a four letter word.

the last time he told someone he loved them, he was begging his father not to leave. as he watched the man- the god- his father walk away, he realized that the word meant nothing. it only brought him pain; and if he didn't love, he didn't have to feel that agony.

his stomach turned, breathing becoming alarmingly shallow. too many memories flushed his mind, and his throat tightened.

"hello? wilbur?"

"don't come back." he stood up suddenly, ice cream falling to the ground next to him.

"what?" she flinched, staring up at him with terror on her face that he didn't even read. he was so blinded by his anger. the light of her halo flickered.

"i said, don't come back." it was almost a subconscious thing, how he lifted his hand into his hair and threw the flower crown onto the sidewalk. right next to his ice cream.

his throat burned harshly. all of his muscles tensed up in such a way that definitely wasn't healthy. he could barely even hear his own words through the pounding in his ears, and he most importantly couldn't hear her heart ripping in two.

"wilbur-"

"stop. stop this. stop following me everywhere, stop- stop acting like you care-" his hands balled up into fists at his sides, "stop everything! i never want to see you again!"

and that was all that was needed for her to turn around and fly off, and that was all that he needed for him to realize what a complete moron he was.

his walk home was nothing short of shameful. and this time he walked through hell with messy flower petals in his hair and a stupid yellow sweater and dumb tears in his eyes.

he didn't realize that quackity, a man who was about to lose twenty dollars, was watching him from afar. he cursed under his breath, biting his bottom lip until his hand brushed against his pocket.

tommy's keycard.

he looked at himself in the reflection of a lava pool, making all sorts of scrunchy and over dramatic faces. he experimented with the way the hood fell over his hair and how it made his furrowed eyebrows look.

he made his way to the elevator, admiring how the scythe looked when he tossed it around in his hands. and when it asked for a confirmation of identity, he pulled out the keycard, swiping it before anyone could see.

he'd continue to try to do tricks with the scythe until he got to the top, waving a hand to the guard until he realized he had to stay in character. his lips suddenly pursed and his eyes became hooded.

to his delight, an angel was there waiting for him.

"wilbur-" she stood up suddenly, her hands shaking at her sides. the light in her tear filled eyes was nearly gone, the glow of her halo barely there. "i wanted to a-apologize-"

"come with me," he spoke, as monotone as he could. his hand reached out towards her, and she hesitantly took it.

with uncertainty written all over her face, she spoke nervously. "where.. where are we going-?"

"i want to make up for what.. happened.. last night.." he muttered, dragging her underground.

she held her flickering halo carefully as they zoomed to the elevator, watching him jam the buttons with his finger. she'd never seen someone so eager.

as soon as the doors parted, he forced her inside with such an anticipation she couldn't pinpoint. it made her feel uneasy, how weird he had been acting.

"wilbur?" her voice came out as more of a squeak, taking his other hand in hers. she looked right at him with swelled eyelids. "this.. this isn't a trick, is it?"

his eyes widened, eyebrows unknotting a crease on his forehead. "what?" he practically laughed, "why- why would it be a trick?"

"i don't know.. you just seem.." her voice wavered, eye contact faltering. "nevermind, it's stupid."

"look at me, love," the nickname was.. new. "i don't want to hurt you. i'm gonna make everything up, okay?"

she hummed an agreement, eyes fluttering to make contact with his. his face was soft, just like the other night. but something seemed missing.

"i wanna show you everything about my home," the excitement in his voice was almost raw. "i live in a palace, did you know that?"

"i didn't," she smiled, a forced one. "are you gonna show me around?"

at that, the elevator's doors opened, and she was hit with a sudden wave of heat that nearly made her fall over.

and he almost didn't catch her.

tears started to swell up her eyes as she clung onto his arm, nails digging into broken fabric. soft yelps came out of her mouth.

"love, are you alright?" he spoke worriedly, and the amount of emotion in his voice made her even more lightheaded.

"i-i am-" she whispered, getting back onto her feet. "its just- y'know- what.. what i told you last night..?"

he nodded his head, a soft "oh" coming out of his mouth. but it didn't seem like an ounce of actual empathy lied behind his eyes. a tint of red glazed it instead. she felt odd.

did he not remember? or did he choose not to?

when she was able to walk properly, he led her around. if it wasn't for the burning pit in her stomach, she'd be extremely excited. but she had a feeling that something deeper was lying under the lava pools.

"this is the palace," he sighed, gesturing to the building. "isn't it cool?"

"it is.." she muttered. this awe, she could not fake. the large, intricate structures of gold and red and the occasional fire bounced off her glassy eyes. "can we go inside? maybe you can show me your room-"

"i.." he stiffened up suddenly. "i don't think that's a good idea."

"oh.." she muttered, trying to read his firm facial expression. but she couldn't.

a thick silence fell upon them. the only noticeable thing was how her halo flicked on and off with inconsistent beats.

"hey, i have to.. do something.. how about you stay here until i'm finished, okay? maybe you can talk to my mom or.. or talk to the hellhounds," his voice was unconvincing, but she still nodded, even as disappointed as she was.

and she watched him walk away, turning the corner away from her. she couldn't help the overwhelming feeling of disgust rummaging through her. the constant stares of demons around her didn't make anything better.

her feelings were mixed. maybe he's having a good day or- or maybe he's really considering peace between them.

but what if it really was a trick?

her soft facial expressions fell into her lap, weighing her options. she always sought to find the good in people, always trying and trying to think positive. but even after she revealed everything- everything she couldn't admit out loud, he turned her away. and there was no right explanation for that, no matter how beautiful his palace was.

she straightened up, fists clenched at her sides. she wasn't going to take it. after going through so much of his hatred for so long, she didn't like him practically making fun of her death. she hated it.

she was going to look for him and tell him all of her raw feelings.

as he rounded the corner, his back hit the wall and his knees failed. his breathing was labored as he ran a blackened hand through his changing hair. he could feel the skin literally crawl off of him, and he was delighted to have his normal look back.

quackity sighed against the wall, catching up to his quickened breath. "now all he has to do is find her. and they're forced to make up. and i win my twenty bucks," he muttered under his lips. "god, quackity, you genius."

his laughs felt amazing to churn out. pretending to be wilbur was exhausting him to the core, but it was worth each and every penny of the twenty dollars he'd be receiving soon.

but, through all of his buzzing victory, he didn't notice an angry little angel looking for a certain grim reaper. he didn't notice her stomping around with her fists clenched at her sides.

and he definitely didn't notice her tripping and falling into the pit of lost souls.

wilbur's day went on horribly.

he didn't get any sleep. not that this was any different from usual; but this time his night was spent tossing and turning in his stone bed trying to think of how he was going to talk to her.

his bones ached when he got up, and no amount of stretches could heal the knot in his neck.

work was even worse. especially considering the fact that everytime he heard some sort of high pitched noise, he'd think it was a little angel fluttering her wings at him, and then he'd be able say the speech he had written up in his mind.

he was regretting his word choice of "i never want to see you again" on top of his regret for the rest of his blown out word vomit.

but as he walked from the elevator to his palace, he couldn't help but hear a sort of cry for help. and it sounded oddly similar to the angel's.

"wilbur? w-wilbur.. i know- i know you hate me but this- this hurts -"

was it?

"its not fffunny anymore- i know you got your kick out of tricking- me- but this is- ow!"

it couldn't be.

"i won't bother you again! i promise! just please- let- let me out of here- help me.. please..? it's- it's -"

he'd been hearing her voice in his head all day in somewhat intervals. but this felt more real, more raw.

he stumbled on his feet. he knew where it was coming from. he heard noises of desperate cries from it everyday, but the thought that this might be real? it scared him to his core.

worry rushed over him quicker than second thought, and he rushed over to the pit of lost souls in a panic. hoarse, raspy screams of "angel!" flew out of his throat as he scrambled to climb the volcano-like structure.

she still had a lot of questions for wilbur.

not the type of, "what's your favorite color?" or "what's your favorite band?" questions. more like, "wilbur? hello? please help- this hurts- are you still there?"

and she was starting to lose hope in the fact that those questions might be answered.

one things for sure; her curiosity will be the death of her.

unless he's got the courage to do something about it.

11.4k || 8.12.23 || masterlist here!

taglist (dm or send an ask to be added!) — @sixofshadowandbone @theoneandonlyyeti @harbingerofheartbreak @starsyoubreaklikesugardust @mcr-pr-fob @sapphic-soot @flynn-thebin @puppyburbites @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @merakiaes @aimi-chann @axthrial @lololol00 @deadphantomsociety @hometown-smile @qweengigi @kisstheskin

thank you so much for your read, i appreciate all of the support <33 a part two is indeed coming soon!! stay tuned

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avelera · 6 days

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thesis about the sea peoples you say? may i request an infodump about the sea peoples?

Heya!

So, basically in college (undergraduate) I got really obsessed with the questions around the Collapse of the Aegean Bronze Age, mostly because I wanted to set my big Magnum Opus historical fiction novel in that time, and the deeper I dug into the rabbit hole the more it appeared that no one, absolutely no one, actually knows why the civilizations around the Mediterranean all fell from a state of pretty sophisticated internationally-trading civilizations to literal Dark Ages (all except for Egypt which was substantially weakened and never really recovered), all at once around 1200-1100 BCE.

The Sea Peoples are the names of the only contemporary (Egyptian) account we have that names who might have been responsible if this collapse was due to an invasion. It's a popular theory because a viking-style invasion is a much sexier reason for a civilization to collapse so we all gather around it like moths to flame. But the thing is, there's a lot of contradictory evidence for and against and shading that hypothesis.

Suffice to say, literally no actually knows what happened and almost every answer comes up, "Some combination of these things, probably?"

But what makes the Collapse even more interesting from a modern perspective is that if there was a historical Trojan War (and I think there was) as fictionalized in the Iliad and the Odyssey (and Song of Achilles, for the Tumbrlistas), then it would have taken place within a generation of the entire civilization that launched the Trojan War crumbling to dust.

So like, if you're Telemachus, your dad Odysseus fights in the Trojan War, some even manage to get home, and then like... everything goes to shit. Catastrophically. And doesn't recover for 400 years.

Seriously, they lost the written word, like how to actually write things down and read them and it took 400 years to get it back. That's how fucked shit got during the Collapse of the Bronze Age.

So my thesis was asking: what if these two things were related? What if the Trojan War either led to the Collapse or it was part of the Collapse or it was a result of the Collapse? Because the timeline is so unknown and muddled that it really could be any of those and again, that's if the Trojan War isn't entirely fictional (which I don't think it is, but many academics disagree, it used to be a whole thing up until Schliemann dug it up, and many doubted it was ever a historical event even after that.)

Ok, so at the risk of writing 75 pages on this again, let me just say:

My conclusion (more of a hypothesis proposal ultimately since there are so many gaps in our knowledge) was that the Trojan War took place before the Collapse of the Bronze Age. But, it might have been launched in response to a wider breakdown in trades routes and resources, causing the Greeks to launch the campaign basically as a bid to replenish their own coffers because they were getting squeezed by what they didn't know was the first rumblings of a global domino effect.

Therefore, since taking out Troy didn't solve those larger trends and forces, they all went home and then got slammed by the REAL problem, which was all the people who had been displaced from further away by this rolling drought or invasion or whatever that was disrupting these delicate international trade routes.

But the Greeks might have been part of the Sea Peoples too! Our only record of the Sea Peoples is from the Egyptians in a highly propagandistic text which makes them sound like this big fearsome foe but that might have been because saying, "We slaughtered a bunch of desperate refugees at our border who were looking for shelter," didn't sound as cool. If the Greeks (or Achaeans or Ahhiyawa) got swept up in this slow-rolling collapse/displacement of people, then they absolutely could have been among those refugees who crashed against the shores of Egypt.

A lot of my evidence was based on looking at how Troy was sacked (it was stripped literally down the nails and there was a lot of evidence of a long-term siege, like what we read about in the Iliad) vs. how Mycenae (Agamemnon's city) or Pylos (King Nestor's city) was sacked, where they were burned and stuff was stolen but they weren't stripped, it looks more like a standard looting hit-and-run type thing. Which led me to believe that it was different turmoil that rocked Mycenae and Pylos than what led to the sacking of Troy, despite the fact these things happened within about 20 years of each other. (Helen being a made-up reason for a resource-driven war would only be the oldest trick in the book, as far as propaganda goes, after all.)

But really, the craziest detail I'll leave you with is: we just don't know! And then it gets weirder. Because the Hittites fell at the same time so the Hittites scholars say, "Nah, the Sea Peoples weren't Hittites, they were probably Greeks." And the GREEK scholars say, "It wasn't us, it was probably the Hittites or someone else. " and the EGYPTIAN scholars say, "Yeah it was someone north of Egypt, maybe the Hittites or the Greeks." and the LEVANT scholars say, "It wasn't from the Levant, we know what was going on there, it has to be from somewhere else."

Literally every single possible source of the Sea Peoples has the scholars who specialize in that location saying it's not them and it must be the guy next door.

It's maddening!

And then there's a big ol' gap around Bulgaria and the Black Sea because, oh yeah, the Soviet Union forbade archaeology in those areas to quash any local pride so those places that were behind the Iron Curtain are decades behind on scholarship that would allow them to say, "Oh hey, it was actually us! Yeah, the invaders came from Bulgaria and got pushed down by a famine." or something to that effect.

We also have some histories from the time saying that the Sons of Heracles returned not long after the Trojan War to lay Greece to waste! And it's really evocative and sounds like it fits what we've got of all these burned cities that happened right after Troy fell! Except that's in doubt now too!

The latest theory is that it was climate change that led to a massive drought. You can read about it in the latest and most popular book on the subject, 1177 BCE which I highly recommend because if it had existed when I wrote my thesis, I wouldn't have had to write it.

But I disagree with the conclusion! Or rather, I'm skeptical. Because very decade, the problems of the day have been hypothesized as being the cause of the Collapse. Like, in the 60s, there was a theory that maybe it was internal strife around a labor strike, like the French Revolution. And y'know when there's a world war, they think it's an invasion. And there was a theory that it was 'cuz of an earthquake (I think that one is nonsense, Mediterranean civilizations famously bounce back quickly from earthquakes.) And now that climate change is on our mind, I'm a little weary to see that it's the new theory because it feels way too much like we're just projecting our problems onto this giant question mark.

Was climate an aspect! I think so! I think it might have contributed to the break down in trade routes that made everyone in the Mediterranean really stressed out and hostile and warlike and led to a lot of displacement. I'm not sure if it's the only reason though and I think the book just kinda reiterates everyone else saying, "I think it was this but in the end, we just don't know, and it was probably a lot of things." which we've known for ages so it's just repeating all the same conclusions. *sigh*

... Like I said, I wrote my thesis on this so yeah, I could go on for a while lol.

#ancient history #bronze age #collapse of the bronze age #sea peoples #lots of generalizations here for brevity so don't jump down my throat if you are also familiar with this era plz

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fillinforlater · 4 months

Note

It’s that time of the year again. What are some of your favorite smuts released in 2023?

Monday of Appreciation: Part 104

Hello everyone, Smite here!

2023 is coming to a close and it's been quite the year, a mixture of "this is a bridge year for greater things to come" and "WE LIVIN' NOW MF!" What is a bit different this year is that the highs weren't as high and the lows weren't as low compared to previous years---maybe that is just me getting older, maybe it's hindsight. Either way, I'm good and this year was good.

But some things are more than just good. I'm of course talking about these writers and their stories that I have featured today. All of them deserve special mention, but I want to focus on two of them specifically.

In a year of great, fantastic and already legendary fics, these two stand out.

Without further ado, let's dive into the final MoA of this year:

-1-

@fanfiction4sooya: Can't Save You Now ft. Chaewon, Kazuha, Sakura

I- I- I just read the damn tags and new I one day had to give this a shot. ff4sooya has crazy ideas, futa galore, different dynamics and kinks, which is SO MY THING. This has Mommy and Daddy involved in an absurd (and absurdly hot) threesome that I couldn't take my eyes off.

Now I definitely need to read more and you should too because I bet there are a bunch of Masterpieces in that long Masterlist!

-2-

@iznsfw: Drunken ft. Olivia Hye

Is it really a Monday of Appreciation post without IZ?

Seriously, what this genius is able to cook up in a commission or in the currently ongoing (HYPE) IZ DAYS OF CHRISTMAS is absolutely incredible. We have long stories with in depth characters and love drama that ends not only smuttily but sweetly. Who the fuck needs books, when you can just binge IZ?

With "Drunken", they have once again hit it out of the FUCKIING park. There is never enough Daddy kink fics, yes, but mine seem like nonsensical cringe porn compared to this beauty of a piece. I love how it plays with my heart, no I'm not crying---okay, now that is hot.

Let me change that: there is three very fucking special stories today!

(I think this might even be better than Levi's Hyeju, wtf)

-3-

@cataboliac: Enkindle ft. Wendy

Firstly: I LOVE YOU CATA, BIG QT!

Secondly: "Enkindle" feels a bit like coming home, like a day in Paradise, like the one person that shines so bright in your life that you don't want it to go. And you know, that is the great thing: this might be Cata's final fic, the farewell, but not only is his life gonna be great and he'll be super happy - we also get to read this again and again, and I'm sure I will one day.

Thank you, Cata, for hanging around!

Thirdly: I'M GONNA KISS YOU, CATA!

-4-

@writerpeach: Delectation ft. Wonyoung, Yujin

1.000 Notes, and it's still not enough for what is my pick for fic of the year (FOTY? FOOTY? There is a scene like that, yep). IZ*ONE truly never dies, but it is IVE and these absolute super stars, bomb shells with flawless faces and different, yet irresistible bodies that have us in a frenzy.

Talking about frenzy, all those 30,699 words are a frenzy. I thought Peach would set it up with a long and painful tease that has us edging the entire time BUT NOPE this has so much fucking smut, so many lines of neediness and horniness, it is impossible to finish in one try or two tries or... I dunno, seven-hundred tries?

It's detailed, it's straight forward, it's sex from every fucking angle, I can never get tired of this. I will go so far and say this is Peach's magnum opus, the GOAT fic by the GOAT writer. At least for that day, I can say this without a doubt.

Peach, you are crazy and thank you for that <3

#PeachPavedTheWay #AnnyeongzForDaddy

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #ive smut #izone smut #male reader insert #male reader #idol x idol smut #red velvet smut #wendy smut #loona smut #loosemble smut #olivia hye smut #hyeju smut #wonyoung smut #chaewon smut #yujin smut #sakura smut #le sserafim kazuha smut

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dem-obscure-imagines · 3 months

Text

You're So Timeless | Vol. 1

Steve Rogers x Reader

Fandom: MCU

Summary: In 1943, Steve Rogers was visited by his soulmate. He fell hard. Problem is, she was from the future and didn’t stick around for long. Now, in the twenty-first century, he finally found her again, except this version of her hasn’t met him yet and won’t know he’s her soulmate for another year.

Note: So this is a combination of my other two Steve Rogers soulmate AU fics, but lengthened and fleshed out into a full fic. I was literally possessed to write this. I have no other explanation. I really like how it came out. I gave this one chapter headings (I am also going to post it to Ao3) and yes some are Taylor Swift titles. Sorry about that. It takes place roughly around the time Civil War would, but we have managed to avoid the war this time around. I also moved some other characters up the timeline because I think they’re neat and I said so. Without further ado, please enjoy my new Magnum Opus.

Also Tumblr made me split it into two parts. Part 2 linked HERE and also at the end of the post.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence/injuries, soulmate au, tons of mutual pining, kind of a slowburn but in reverse. Light angst, but a happy ending.

Word Count: 38.7k total (I am not sorry)

Reader Is: Enhanced (forcefields), 24 years old, female

The End

Time.

It was a fickle thing. In the blink of an eye, a year had passed. A mere twelve months earlier, you had been living a different life. The only life you had been responsible for was your own. And your plants, but…they never seemed to last that long under your care. Now, everything was different.

It was the day before your birthday. Your twenty-fifth birthday, which, in the world you lived in, meant that tomorrow, a name would appear on your wrist, the name of your soulmate. It had been stressing you out all day, the weight of tomorrow and everything it meant.

It was late, and you were exhausted from a day of overthinking. The longer you stayed up, the longer you delayed the inevitable reveal, and thinking about it too much made you nervous, so you just decided to get to sleep sooner than later.

It was once you were just about to climb into bed that there was a knock at your door.

“It’s open!” You called. The door opened slowly, revealing Steve, who was leaning in your doorway, arms crossed, that pensive look in his blue eyes. “Oh, hey.”

“Hi.” He chuckled. He seemed nervous, although you weren’t sure why.

“Everything alright, Steve?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I actually came in here to check on you. Wanda said you were…quiet.”

“Yeah, you could say that.” You hugged your arms around your frame and bit your lip, looking up at the super soldier standing in front of you. “Just…I don’t know. I’ve been looking forward to tomorrow for my entire life, but…now that it’s here, I’m so scared.”

“Hey, come here.” He said, pulling you to him, strong arms wrapped around you, as if he could protect you from the future itself.

“I don’t know what to do…”

“(Y/N), whoever they are, they are incredibly, incredibly lucky. You don’t need to worry about anything. It’ll all work out. It always does.” He said it like he was certain. Like somehow he knew what would happen in the morning when suddenly your life was turned on its head and you had to venture out to find your other half.

Since you’d met him, Steve wore a leather band around his wrist, covering his soulmate’s name. You’d figured he must have met them in the forties and…maybe they hadn’t made it long enough to see him come out of the ice. But you didn’t ask about it. You never dared to put that question into words. He’d been through enough heartbreak already.

“What if they don’t like me…?”

He scoffed, holding you tighter. “That’s impossible. They’re going to love you. So much. I promise.”

“And…and we’ll still be f-friends?”

Steve pulled away, looking down at you, a hand very carefully touching your cheek. “Of course we will still be friends. Nothing is ever going to change that. I promise.”

You nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek. “Good. Thank you, Steve. For everything.”

He gently wiped the tear away, the pad of his thumb warm. Once he was sure you were okay, he let go, looking at you with that knowing sparkle in his eye once more. He took a little extra time to look at the shirt you were wearing, the Star Wars tee you’d had since high school. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” You agreed.

“And happy birthday, (Y/N).”

We’ll Meet Again

“Ma’am? Are you alright? Ma’am?” The voice sounded far away. You were pretty sure you were still dreaming. You opened your eyes slowly and immediately became aware of the pounding pain in your head.

“Ow, oh my God.” You reached up and felt there, but it didn’t feel like you were bleeding or anything.

“Ma’am?”

You froze for a second, slowly looking up at the figure standing above you, confusion written all over his familiar features. It took you a long moment to put the pieces together. You were on a porch somewhere in what appeared to be New York, but it was…different. A lot different than the parts of the city you knew. Alright, it had to be a dream.

You looked up at the man standing above you and did a double-take. But no, it was him. It was a tiny, frail version of Steve. Your eyebrows furrowed and you sat up slowly, staring at him for a long moment before whispering, “Steve?”

His mouth opened and then shut again and he made a face of confusion, like he was trying to place where he knew you from, but he didn’t know you yet, and wouldn’t know you for several more years, to say the least. “Do I know you?”

“It’s complicated.” You exhaled. “Can we go inside? You’re going to need to sit down for this.”

Dumbfounded, Steve nodded and you stood up from the porch, only to find that he was at your eye level when you did. Weird. He led you into the small apartment and you looked around. It was quaint. There was an easel in the corner of the room and…Bucky Barnes sitting on the couch? You stared at him for a good, long moment, a shiver running down your spine.

“Who’s the dame?” He read your shirt. “What is Star…Wars…?”

“About to find that out myself.” He chuckled, leading you into the living room. “Buck, could you give us a minute?”

“I’ll be in the kitchen.” Bucky got up and walked to the other half of their tiny two-bedroom.

You sat down on the couch and so did he. The silence was thick. You thought for several moments. You weren’t quite sure how you had ended up in the 1940s. You looked down at your hands and it was then that your gaze finally landed on the writing on your wrist. And then everything made sense.

“What’s the date today?”

“It’s July 4th, why?”

“July 4th…” You whispered. “What, 1943?”

You could see the wheels turning behind his eyes before he replied, “Yes ma’am.”

“Well, happy birthday, first of all. And second of all…” You held up your wrist so he could read it. Steve’s eyes went wide and he stared at the three words written neatly on your skin in his own handwriting.

Steven Grant Rogers.

“You’re my…” He looked at you for a long time, his eyes wide. He hastily undid the cuff around his wrist and held it out to you, your own name written there. He ran a finger across the letters, as if to prove they were really there.

“I’m your soulmate.” You said certainly.

It hit you like a truck, then. The weird look on your Steve’s face, the way he was so certain that everything would work out. It was because he had already lived through this. And that meant that in all the time he’d known you, he’d been hiding his mark not because his soulmate had died, but instead because you were his soulmate and you didn’t know it yet.

Your entire year of friendship, of memories, of roadtrips and missions and movie marathons…he had known the whole time. And that look in his eyes wasn’t just his protective side coming out. It was love. It had been love the whole time.

Oh.

Steve exhaled a long, shaking breath, really taking you in. Once again, he had a million stars in his eyes. He let out a whispered, “Wow,” as tears began to form.

You came back down to earth. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled, sniffling as a tear ran down his cheek. “I’ve just, I’ve got a lot of…health problems, so I wasn’t sure if I’d ever…meet you. And you’re here and you’re great and I just…I’m sorry.”

That brought tears to your eyes. “Oh, Steve…” You pulled him into your arms and he didn’t hesitate to surrender to your embrace, his arms wrapping tight around you and holding you close, head nestled into the crook of your neck. “Just breathe. It’s okay. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Always.

He took your advice, doing his best to avoid an asthma attack on what was shaping up to be the best day of his life. Once he finally caught his breath, he pulled away to look at your face again. “I have to ask…How did you know?”

“I don’t know if you can tell from these clothes,” you motioned down to the t-shirt and sweatpants you were wearing, “but I’m not from around here, exactly.”

“I kind of thought so, but I didn’t want to be rude.” He smiled softly. “Um, where are you from, then?”

“I’m from the future. Like…a while from now. It’s hard to explain why or how, and I’m not really sure how I got here, to be honest, but I’m glad I am.” You sighed, thumb grazing his cheek, wiping away his tears. He crooned at your touch. “I don’t know how long we have before I have to go back.”

“Am I there? Where you’re from?”

“You are. It’s complicated. We’re really good friends and…when I get back, I’m sure we’ll probably be even more than that.” You smiled, shaking your head. “I can’t believe I didn’t put the pieces together sooner.”

“(Y/N)?” Steve asked, trying out your name for the first time.

“Yeah?”

“Let me take you out today, show you a good time here before you have to go back.” He took your hand and carefully laced his fingers through your own, testing the weight of it, the feel of it.

You smiled. “I’d like that.”

“Not to eavesdrop, lovebirds — congratulations, by the way — but if you’re going to take her out, we’re going to need to find her some clothes that aren’t so…‘not from around here.’” Bucky leaned in the doorway.

“Yeah, I thought the same thing.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll call one of my girls and we’ll get her squared away. Sit tight.”

“Thanks, Bucky.” You said, chuckling when his eyes widened after you addressed him by name. “I know you, too. From the, uh, future.”

“Weird…” Bucky decided.

“Long story?” Steve asked, studying the look on your face.

“Very.” You agreed. After staring at him for another long moment, you pulled him back into your arms again, exhaling a long breath before whispering, “Steve, I’m so glad it’s you…”

***

“Wow.” You stared at yourself in the mirror, studying the way Bucky’s, ahem, lady friend, had curled your hair, done your makeup. You did a little twirl and relished in the way the skirt of your dress twirled. It was navy blue, short ruffled sleeves with a flared skirt and buttons down the front. “I think it suits me.”

“I agree. Blue is a good color on you.” Steve was sitting in a chair at the edge of the room, absolutely enamored as he watched you. “Although, I’m sure they’re all good colors on you, doll.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. “Thanks.”

“I mean it.” He stood up and walked to you, slipping one of his hands into each of yours and staring into your eyes, looking at the way you looked standing next to him in his reflection. His soulmate. The kind of girl people write poems about. “You look great.”

“I don’t look out of place?”

“No one is gonna think you’re a time traveler. Well, unless you tell them.” Bucky said. “Maybe don’t do that anymore.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t planning on it.” You chuckled and gave Steve’s hands a squeeze. “Where to first, soulmate?”

His cheeks reddened as soon as you said the word. “Well, I was thinking we could go to my favorite little diner down the street to grab something for lunch, and then maybe we could take a walk through the park, catch a movie, and then go out for drinks tonight?”

“What, you aren’t gonna take her dancing?” Bucky teased, ruffling Steve’s hair under a large hand. “Show the girl a good time?”

“I would if I didn’t have two left feet.” Steve chuckled, a sheepish smile on his face. He looked at you, waiting for some kind of response. “How does that sound?”

“It sounds like a great time, Steve.”

He smiled. “Good.”

The two of you left the apartment not long after that, and walked side by side towards the diner. Your hands were swinging in the space between you and your hand brushed Steve’s once, twice, a third time, and then you slipped your hand into his, intertwining your fingers.

You caught him smile out of the corner of your eye. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, of course it’s okay.” He grinned and chuckled to himself. “You can hold my hand as much as you want, doll.”

When the two of you finally got to the diner, a little bell rang over your heads and you got seated at a booth by the window. The two of you ordered drinks and you skimmed the menu while you waited.

“So, tell me about yourself.” You said, resting your chin against your fist and looking over at Steve. You studied the way his blue, blue eyes flicked up to your own and the blush that covered his cheeks shortly thereafter.

“You probably know a lot of it already.” He chuckled. “Unless we don’t talk a lot?”

“We talk quite a bit, but I still want to know about this you. Here and now.”

“I like art. Drawing and painting and stuff.” He said. “I haven’t had time to do much lately, but I’d like to get back into it.”

“See, that I didn’t know.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know you were into art.”

“I could, uh, show you sometime.” He offered.

“I’d like that.” You smiled. “What else?”

“I like to read. I like going to Dodgers games with Bucky. One time he took me to Coney Island. I don’t like rollercoasters, but I liked playing the games. He wasted three whole dollars trying to win a teddy bear for a redhead named Dot.”

“Three whole dollars…” You chuckled. “Well you don’t have to worry about the rollercoasters too much, I can’t go upside down without throwing up.”

“That makes two of us. Enough about me, tell me about you.” Steve nudged, his hand slowly moving towards yours. “How do we know each other? When did we meet?”

“We’re…coworkers, I guess you could say. We met about a year back and now we live in the same building? I’m sorry for being so vague, I just—”

“Don’t want to give it away, yeah, I get it.” He nodded, understandingly.

“You took me under your wing as soon as I moved in and really made me feel welcome. You’re the one that brought me onto the team, actually.” You took a sip of your drink. “We’ve been through a lot together already, and I’m sure it’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

“Mmm…” Steve nodded. “I know I just met you, but I’m really glad you and I are close. Well, will be close.” He paused before chuckling and shaking his head. “There’s still some little voice in the back of my head telling me all of this is just some amazing dream.”

“That doesn’t even begin to cover it.” You chuckled, tucking a piece of curled hair back behind your ear. “I’ve…I’ve had a crush on you forever, Steve. I can’t believe this is happening.”

He stared at you, almost dumbfounded. “O-on me?”

“Yeah.” You agreed. You’d forgotten, you supposed, that Steve had had this phase, the self-depreciation, the insecurity. Your Steve, when complimented, was shy, sure, but you knew he understood what people were talking about. This Steve didn’t see it that way. Not yet. But it would be your job to use your one day with him to change that, to make your soulmate see that he was worthy of love, even self-love. “Yeah, of course on you, Steve. I can’t believe I get to have you.”

His cheeks reddened and he finally took the leap, taking your hand across the table, thumb grazing your knuckles with care. His blue eyes sparkled. “Funny. I was gonna say the same thing about you.”

***

Once the two of you were finished up at the diner, you took a walk through the park. It was gorgeous out, a bright, sunny, warm summer afternoon. Several couples were strolling down the paths, hand in hand, and you were one of them, your hand held tight in Steve’s, his thumb gently stroking the back of yours.

You went to the theater and caught a movie together. Luckily enough, they were showing the Wizard of Oz. Your current situation had you feeling like Dorothy in more ways than one. The movie had only come out four years earlier, which was definitely strange. Not to mention the fact that the tickets were only twenty-five cents, the popcorn a mere ten cents.

And then, once the movie was over and the sun was setting, you went to a bar, where Steve ordered each of you a drink. You took a sip of yours, something sweet, and smiled at him across the table.

“So, how’s your day been, birthday boy?” You asked coyly.

“The best I’ve had so far,” he replied, his eyes sparkling. The sparkle faded, however, when his expression grew somber. He hesitated, but then asked, “Okay, I have to know…How long do I have to wait to see you again?”

You exhaled a long sigh, biting your lip. If you told him the truth, he might ask questions you couldn’t tell him the answers to. And besides, the real answer would require some math. You didn’t know the specifics.

“I’ll be honest, Steve, it’s…it’s a pretty long time.” You thought for a long moment before continuing, “I…I can’t really tell you why. It’s all really complicated, and if I tell you too much, it might not happen the way it’s supposed to.”

“Oh…” Steve nodded and took a sip of his drink. Once he set down the glass, he reached across the table and took your hand. “Well, however long it is,” he looked straight into your eyes and a chill ran down your spine, “It’ll be worth it. Every second. I promise.”

You could have cried. “I hope so.”

“There you two are! I was wondering which bar you’d wandered into!” Bucky was, apparently, already slightly intoxicated as he approached you and Steve with a date of his own. “How was your day on the town, lovebirds?”

“Spectacular.” You replied. “I wish there was more time to soak it in.”

“New York sure is something, huh?” Bucky’s date asked, giggling innocently. If only she knew the half of it.

“Yeah, you could say that.” You laughed and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“You guys wanna sit with us?” Steve asked.

“If you don’t mind too much, punk.” Bucky grinned.

Steve got up and switched sides of the booth so he was sitting next to you instead of across from you. You slid your hand into his, intertwining your fingers. He smiled, chuckling softly to himself as he gave your hand a squeeze.

“Did you give the lady her dance, Rogers?” Bucky asked, smirking.

“Not yet.” Steve chuckled. “We’ll see. The asthma makes it a bit difficult sometimes.”

“Never seems to stop you from getting into fights.” Bucky muttered, causing Steve’s cheeks to flush.

“Just wait until the band plays something slow,” Bucky’s date pointed out.

“There you go!” Bucky raised his glass to his lips. “Great idea, Maggie.”

“Glad to be of service.”

And so, the four of you chatted until the band started to play something sweet and slow. Steve looked at you for approval and you nodded. He led you out onto the floor with the other couples.

Steve blushed, flustered, and he looked at you before saying, “I don’t know how to do this.”

“It’s easy.” You promised, guiding one of his hands to your waist and holding the other. “That’s it. And then we just move to the music. You can twirl me around if you feel so inclined.”

“Alright.” He chuckled, swaying in time with you. “Hey, uh, (Y/N), I need you to know…I had a really, really great time today. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a soulmate and I’m so excited to spend the rest of my life with you someday, however far away that someday is.”

“I’m glad I met your expectations.” You smiled, tugging him a bit closer.

“No, you exceeded them. You’re better than anything I could have imagined. I’m so lucky.” He paused, and his expression fell a little. “I know I’m a lot. I have a lot of problems and they might complicate things sometimes, but…”

“Steve, you’re perfect.” You shook your head and leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. “The universe gave you to me for a reason and I’m so, so glad it did. You’re amazing. I can’t think of anyone better to spend the rest of my life with.”

He was quiet for a moment before whispering, “Can I please kiss you, doll?”

You leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, the music swelling around you as you guided his hands to your waist, cupping his cheeks to hold him close to you. When the moment had passed, you rested your nose against his, meeting his eyes and inhaling his scent, committing this version of him to memory before he was reduced to just that, a memory.

“Steve Rogers, I am so sorry you will not hear me say these words until after I go back tomorrow, but I love you. I have loved you for a very long time. And I know I will love you for the rest of my life.”

You spent the rest of the night together. Twirling across the dancefloor, talking, soaking each other in. But when you reached the front porch of the townhouse, Steve looked back down the steps to find you’d disappeared, leaving him with nothing but the memory of your lips, your laugh, your smile.

“You gonna be alright?” Bucky asked, a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t know.” He replied, words swallowed up by the sounds of the night. “Just give me a minute, pal.”

Bucky nodded, solemn. “Take all the time you need.”

The Beginning

Steve remembered the day you’d met—for the second time, though he didn’t realize it right away—like it was tattooed on his brain. It was a few years after he’d come out of the ice and he had taken Tony’s advice to get out more, which had led him to the local mall.

It had been an uneventful day. He strolled around the perimeter, taking in the storefronts, studying the fashion, browsing the menu of a pretzel place, reading the posters on the exterior of the movie theater, the things that were coming out in the coming months. Nothing interested him in particular. He didn’t really care for war movies.

After a few quiet hours, his peaceful walk was interrupted by screams, people running away at top speed, which, of course, caused him to spring into action, assessing the situation. He ran towards the source of the chaos, scanning, scanning, until his eyes landed on the attacker, a guy with a flamethrower, aimed at a teenage theater employee. Steve hurdled over a trash can, moving people out of the way, directing them to safety and trying to put himself between himself and the mallgoers, but before he could, you did, hands out in front of you and what seemed to be an invisible shield poised there, redirecting the flames and protecting the movie theater employee that had nearly been caught in the crossfire.

A quick flick of your wrist knocked the attacker’s gun out of his hands and it slid across the floor to Steve’s feet. He chucked it into the fountain without a second thought, where it fizzled pathetically. The guy lunged at you with heavy metal gauntlets, and you dodged the first swing but caught the second in the face, falling backwards. When you landed, however ungracefully, you sent a blast of energy at the guy, knocking him over a plant and sprawling onto the tile floor.

While the guy was on the ground, Steve tackled him, wrenching the gauntlets off of his hands and chucking them away, too. Soon, the police arrived, apprehending the guy while mall security comforted the distressed mall patrons, ushering them to safety and medical attention.

You sat on a bench after, breathing heavy, a cut on your forehead. Steve walked over, interested in this superpowered rescuer, someone who wasn’t yet on the Avengers’ radar, but would most definitely be on the news the next day if the sheer amount of phone footage recorded was any indication.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just glad everyone is okay.” You told him, meeting his eyes.

He finally got a good look at you and froze, looking bewildered. A deer in headlights. “You’re…”

There you are, doll. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.

It was you. Of course it was you. Since the moment he’d been unfrozen, he’d been looking for you. His soulmate. The girl from the future that popped in on his twenty-fifth birthday, turned his whole life on its head, and then left without warning, hours after their first kiss. Back when he was five-foot-nothing with asthma and more medical conditions than he could even remember.

Back before he was anything.

And you’d loved him anyway. You’d given him the day of a lifetime and hope for not only a future, but for love. That someone could love him for him despite it all.

“I know.” You knew? “I…I don’t know what it is or…why I can do it. I’ve been like this since college.”

Your powers, you meant. You thought he was talking about your powers and not your name, which was burning a hole into his wrist beneath the thick leather band keeping it hidden.

“Right. Well, it’s…” He sighed, gathering his words, hiding the elation and pain behind a warm smile. “It’s a good thing you were here. I don’t have my shield on me.”

“Mine is built in.” You chuckled.

“You, uh…have a cut. On your forehead.”

“Oh, do I?” You reached up and found it with your fingers and they came away a bit bloody. “Shit.”

“Come on.” He offered you his hand and you took it, letting him lead you over to the counter of the theater. “Hi, do you have a first aid kit we could borrow?”

“Yeah, of course.” The girl at the counter said, rushing to grab it.

Steve patched you up with gentle hands, off in a corner on your own, in the room the theater used for birthday parties. Staring up at him, you finally realized the obvious. This was Captain America. And he was using a careful finger to spread a triple antibiotic ointment on your cut.

Play it cool, (Y/N).

“Do you do this often? The hero thing?” Steve asked, trying to sound somewhat indifferent. He couldn’t be, though. Not entirely. Not when it came to you.

“No.” You shrugged. “Haven’t had much opportunity, thankfully. I mean…I’d like to, I just didn’t know how to…get into it, I guess. Any email I sent to Stark or S.H.I.E.L.D. or whatever would end up on a slush pile.”

“Well, I’ve got some connections. If you’re seriously considering it. I can’t say I recommend it, but…Obviously you’ve got that protective instinct and you seem to work well under pressure.”

“I don’t know about that. My heart is about to leap out of my chest.” You admitted, laughing as he carefully laid a Bandaid over the cut, closing the kit.

“That makes two of us.”

“Well, if you think I’m really cut out for it…I’d love to help.”

***

It was three days later that Nick Fury got in touch with you. You thought it was a scam call at first, but no one else would possibly have the info about you that he did. That was S.H.I.E.L.D. for you, you supposed.

You packed up your apartment, your boxes of books, your old journals, your clothes and makeup, your life, and hopped in the jet that was waiting for you at the meeting place. Inside was a pilot with flaming red hair, Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow. It was hard not to get a little starstruck.

She helped you load your things into the jet, let you settle into the copilot seat, and then you took off, soaring away from your old life and towards your new one, the mysterious, magnificent facility tucked into upstate New York, that iconic A emblazoned on the front of the building.

“Steve said you’re telekinetic. That’s cool.” She complimented with a smirk.

“Yeah, I’ve got force-field stuff. I don’t know what else, exactly.”

“Oh, we’ll figure all that out. Banner already has a list of tests he wants to run. Nothing too intense. I made him promise not to give you the lab rat treatment too soon.”

“Reassuring.” You chuckled.

“Wanda’s been decorating your room all day. It’s not often we get new blood.”

“I appreciate it. I can’t wait to meet everyone.”

“They can’t wait to meet you.”

The jet landed a little under an hour later and Natasha helped you haul boxes towards the front door, where Steve was waiting. It was like time slowed, that look in his eyes, glistening little stars.

“Come on, Rogers, these boxes aren’t going to move themselves.” Nat waved him over, snapping both of you out of your trance.

“Right, right.” He jogged over. “Is there anything heavy?”

“That one.” You pointed. “It’s got my candles in it.”

“On it.”

You grabbed a few tote bags, slinging your computer bag over your shoulder. A few others came out to help, Clint and Wanda namely, the latter of whom used her shimmering red powers to speed the process along. Were you any more confident in your own powers, you would do the same, but you hadn’t had much opportunity to use them yet, and you didn’t want to drop anything fragile on your first day.

You started unpacking the essentials, your smart speaker, your laptop, some books and your favorite candle. You put some clothes in the dresser, hung some up in the large sliding closet in the wall. Upon further examination, you had your own bathroom, too, which was nice. There was a wall tapestry with sunflowers on it, and several little knickknacks. Wanda’s loving touch.

Someone cleared their throat and you turned to find Steve there, arms crossed, leaning in the doorway.

“Hi there, um, just checking in. Figured you might want a tour when you got settled in. No rush, of course.”

“I would love a tour. I can already tell I’m gonna get lost in this place.”

He grinned. “Not on my watch. Come on. I’ll show you around.”

Steve walked with you through the office spaces, the computer labs, Bruce’s lab, Tony’s. Tony was in the city, but Bruce was home and introduced himself with a dad joke about the Hulk and a warm handshake. You saw the training facility, a giant room with floor to ceiling windows, a wall of mirrors, practice dummies, landing mats, and plenty of sparring weapons. There was, separately, a fully furnished gym, and then the basics, a large, modern kitchen, living areas and lounges, study spaces, a library, a party room with a bar, and a very fancy coffee machine.

You could see yourself making a home here.

Steve walked you back to the hallway where all the bedrooms were. “If you need anything or have any questions, my room is just down the hall on the left. Wanda is next door. Dinner is at six.”

“Six o’clock it is. Thank you, Cap.”

“You can call me Steve.”

“Steve.” You nodded, slowly accepting the fact that you were now on a first name basis with Captain America. “And you can call me (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N).” He said, some twinge of nostalgia at the end of his words. You turned back into your room to get some more unpacking done and Steve walked back down the hall, taking a deep breath and looking up at the ceiling, doing his best to hold in his tears.

…Ready For It?

You spent the first few days in your room for the most part, unpacking but also hiding, if you were honest. You met Vision. He seemed nice. He also had the ability to phase through walls, apparently. Still no sign of Thor, but you weren’t holding your breath. You were sure he was a busy guy.

Sam Wilson introduced himself with the same offer everyone else had so far, to let them know if you needed anything. You appreciated it.

And then, finally, there was Tony, whose dry humor came across immediately. He sized you up, drilling questions about where you went to college, what you majored in, what your top three movies from the 1980s were. You were pretty sure he liked you, but you didn’t think he trusted you. And that was okay. You knew that was something you’d have to earn around there.

“No soulmark yet, kid?” He asked, eyeing up your bare wrist.

“Not yet.” You confirmed.

“That makes you what, twenty-three? Twenty-four?”

“Twenty-four. As of last month, actually.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “Well that’s exciting. I’m sure you’re counting down the days.”

“More or less.” You chuckled, catching Steve watching you out of the corner of your eye. He did that a lot, you noticed.

Before Tony could come up with some witty comeback, the lights flashed red, accompanied by a loud siren.

“Vis? What’s going on?” Tony asked as Vision walked into the room, his sophisticated sweater melting into the uniform you’d seen on the news, red and green with a golden cape.

“There seems to be a stir at the local fairgrounds. Tremors and gunshots. Hostages.”

“Alright, let’s go pay them a visit then.” Tony pressed a button on his watch and transformed into Iron Man in front of your very eyes. “You can stay here or come with us. Up to you. But suit up fast. We’re out in five.”

You stood there for a moment, waiting for the shock to wear off, but the sirens definitely weren’t helping.

“Stick with me.” Steve instructed, voice calm, confident.

“Okay.” You nodded, following after him, towards the hangar where they kept the jets.

Natasha was standing at a locker, pulling her catsuit on with impressive speed, Clint beside her, loading a quiver with arrows, checking his bow.

“Nat, can you get her ready?”

“Baby’s first mission?” She asked, impressed.

You nodded, waiting for orders.

“Well, it should be an easy one, from the sound of it. Here, put this on. We’ll get you your own gear in the next few weeks.”

She chucked you an extra suit and you did your best to shimmy into it. Surprisingly, you could actually move in it. There were holsters, but you weren’t gun trained, so you figured it was best to leave that to the professionals. Instead, you followed the others onto the jet, hoping your forcefields and blossoming battle instincts would be enough to protect you out there.

***

The fair had devolved quickly into madness. There was fire, screaming, running, and gunshots. You flinched at the onslaught of it, but followed the others out anyway, listening to the voice in your earpiece, Steve’s voice, as he issued orders. You were put on civilian evacuation with Sam while the others engaged with the attackers. Six of them.

You did your job diligently, ushering people to a safe distance while law enforcement arrived. Until one of the attackers engaged with you, however, mistaking you for a civilian. Something snapped. In an instant your flight instinct vanished, replaced with the need to fight. He punched at you and you countered, sweeping a leg under him and then using a forcefield to knock him into the cornfield.

One of them launched a bazooka at Tony while he wasn’t looking, and without a thought, you trapped the explosive in a bubble, forcing it into the air where it exploded harmlessly, away from everyone.

And when the dust settled, the rest of the team turned to look at you, sharing looks with each other.

“Thanks for the save, kid. I owe you one.” Tony complimented, clapping you on the back on his way into the jet. “Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”

Your heart raced with the adrenaline of battle, the feeling of a job well done. Steve gave you a thumbs-up, a proud grin. His risk had paid off. You weren’t a total failure.

“You doin’ okay?” He asked, slinging his shield onto his back.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You replied, letting the energy fizzle back into your palms.

He watched with interest at the faint crackles of blue that made up your powers. “You did good out there.”

You felt your cheeks flush. “Thanks, I—"

“Alright new girl, were are we stopping for food?” Natasha asked, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

“I get to pick?” You asked with a laugh.

“And don’t be afraid to pick something fancy. It’s Tony’s treat.” Clint added, walking with the rest of you onto the jet. You strapped in while the others tried their darndest to influence your pick, bickering like siblings. Like your family.

Yeah, you could get used to this.

Waypoint

Your training started shortly after that first mission. Bruce took all your vitals, measured them before, during, and after use of your powers. He recorded said powers with every device known to man until he had your ability down to a science. He had a hunch they were of cosmic origin, but you had no idea when you could have possible come in contact with something like that.

Next came a uniform. At the moment, it was a dark indigo color, something similar to navy blue, but leaning a bit more purple. The chest area was left blank, Tony claiming he’d add a symbol once his graphic design team came up with something. He did add some accents up the arms and down the legs, thin, light blue lines that matched the color of your powers.

Natasha and Clint gave you a few crash courses on weapons and your aim left a bit to be desired, but your hand-eye coordination wasn’t bad. Sam put you on a modified military workout regimen to get in shape, get your stamina up with the rest of the team.

You practiced making forcefields, seeing how big you could make them, how small, how much force they could endure before they broke. Natasha shot some bullets at them, and your fields caught them, allowing you to kill their momentum and drop them harmlessly to the ground. They could withstand some electricity, but not Wanda’s powers. And they held against Steve’s superstrength, but not for long. Still, a few hits from a supersoldier was more than most could endure, so it would buy you some time in the field.

Eventually, you moved on from just forcefields and started learning to move objects. It turned out, you were not limited to bubbles. You could create platforms underneath things. This evolved into creating platforms underneath people, that they could jump on, or ride on top of while you moved them.

You practiced using them for transport too, but it was harder standing on them while controlling them, especially if you tried to jump from platform to platform. It was a bit like patting your head and rubbing your tummy, and it would take a lot of practice.

There weren’t many missions, and the ones that popped up, you didn’t get sent on. They were high level things, and while your powers were improving, and very quickly, Bruce was always quick to reassure you, you weren’t ready for covert ops yet, especially ones that had been months in the making.

Every time Steve got sent off, he left with that sad little half-smile of his, the one where he pressed his lips together, eyes glittering like a lake under moonlight. He’d give you some words of comfort, usually dealing with how short the mission was supposed to be. It didn’t often make you feel better.

Bruce stayed behind with you, most times. More like all of the times. Code Greens, as they were called, were seldom necessary, and besides, as they had learned with Wanda back during the Ultron days, Bruce could be a liability if someone else got in his head. But it was nice not being completely alone in the big empty facility.

“He always looks so sad when he leaves.” You noted, sipping from a mug of warm tea. Steve had left only moments before, the last member of the team that was shipping out.

Bruce thought about it for a moment. “Does he?”

“Oh. I don’t know. Maybe I don’t know him that well.” You shrugged, the sounds of Animal Crossing resonating from the TV.

“You know, he has, lately. He didn’t used to.” Bruce noted.

“Weird.”

“Uh-huh.” He replied absentmindedly. “So explain to me this game?”

“Okay, so you move to this island and have to spend all your money paying off debt to this raccoon…”

It was in another training session that there was a malfunction. A shock grenade went off dangerously close to Sam. Before you could even process what you were doing, your hand shot out, a bright, pulsating star crackling in front of him, another, second star on the other side of the room. Steve assessed the situation and used the shield to knock Sam into the star, neutralizing the grenade right after. There was a bright flash and Sam appeared on the other side of the room, tumbling out of the second star.

You froze, curling your fingers and closing both of them. There was a slight pinch in your shoulder, near the base of your neck. The others all stared.

“Wait, what was that?” Bruce asked over the intercom.

“You did that?” Steve asked, motioning to Sam as he walked over.

“I think so.”

“What was that?”

Natasha asked, looking you up and down. Sam stared at you like you’d sprouted a third eye.

“I don’t know.”

“Do it again.” Bruce insisted. “Hang on, I’m coming in there.”

The door from the observation room opened and Bruce joined the rest of you in the circle that was steadily forming, all of them watching you, waiting.

“I don’t know, it was just like…” You focused on that feeling again, the desperation to get Sam the hell away from that grenade, and as though you were punching a hole through reality, it opened in the center of the circle, an eight-pointed star, bobbing and ebbing and flowing, made of the light blue energy you were so familiar with.

Carefully, you opened another one, ten feet in the air above the first. Clint shrugged and chucked a tennis ball into it. Sure enough, it popped up to the second one, before falling down through the first one again. This continued until eventually you closed the bottom one, letting the tennis ball bounce harmlessly across the floor.

“Well shit.”

“Waypoints.” Bruce said, deep in thought. “Teleportation. This…this opens up a lot of doors.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Steve murmured.

“Hey, that’s kind of cool. Waypoint.” Clint said, drawing attention to it. “What do you think?”

“What, like as a codename?” You asked, weighing it as an option.

“I like it.” Sam grinned. “Waypoint.”

“Waypoint.” You repeated, trying it out. Hi, I’m Waypoint. I’m an Avenger.

It sounded silly, but it was getting more official by the day. There was, of course, only one way to make it official official, and that was with one of Tony Stark’s famed parties…

Wonderstruck

You let out a sigh, staring at your reflection in the mirror. It was the night of the big party. Your first, as an Avenger, and the official induction of what Tony was deeming the second class of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, Sam: the Falcon, Wanda: the Scarlet Witch, Vision, and You: Waypoint.

He’d gotten you a dress to wear, one that matched your uniform. It was long, sleek, that navy blue/indigo color. It glittered like stars and moved like a dream. And in the middle of it, poised at the base of the sweetheart neckline, was the eight-pointed star that Tony had turned into your symbol.

Your hair and makeup were done, and all that was left was the zipper.

Someone knocked on the door.

“It’s open!” You called, expecting Natasha or Wanda. Instead, it was Steve, who, when he saw you were unzipped, pulled the door almost all the way closed and shielded his eyes with his hand.

“Sorry! I’ll leave—”

“Wait, actually, could you help me zip this up? I can’t reach.”

Steve nodded, slowly lowering his hand and entering the room. He closed the door behind him to give you some privacy. He was dressed in a sharp black suit with a blue tie. His lapel pin looked like a tiny version of his shield.

“Wow…” He murmured, taking you in. “You look great, (Y/N).”

“You think so? I’m not sure blue is really my color…”

He scoffed. “It most certainly is.” He swept the hair off of your shoulder, meeting your eyes in the reflection in the mirror as he gently pulled the zipper higher until it was secure in place. “In more ways than one.”

“Yeah, guess so.” You agreed, nervous energy crackling around your fingers, blue as ever. You dispelled it, snapping out of it.

Steve looked at the two of you in the mirror for a long time before turning towards the door again. Halfway there, though, he turned back around, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a flat velvet box. “This is, um…for you.”

“Oh! Thank you.” You reached for it, heart racing. Inside was a necklace, its pendant a silver star with eight points. In the center, an aquamarine gem. You gasped, looking at it. It was beautiful, delicate. “Steve, this is beautiful. Thank you so much.”

“It’s the least I could do.” He said, offering his hand. “May I?”

“Please.” You said, handing him the necklace and moving your hair out of the way. He did the clasp behind your neck. It settled between your collarbones.

“There. Now it’s official.” He whispered.

“Almost.”

“Almost.” Steve agreed, offering you his elbow. “Right this way.”

You looped your arm through his, letting him lead you out into the initial murmurs of the party. What Natasha dubbed the “extended family” had shown up. Rhodey, Maria Hill, Nick Fury, Happy Hogan, Pepper Potts, and, of course, Thor.

He was a sight, that was for sure. He towered over everyone else at 6’5”, arms the size of tree trunks. It was a bit intimidating to say the very least.

“Rogers!” Thor bellowed.

“Thor! I didn’t think you were coming.”

He grinned. “I never miss a feast.” His eyes fell on you. “And you must be this new team member Banner spoke of.”

“I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“The honor is mine.”

“Here.” Natasha handed you a champagne flute. She eyed up your necklace. “That’s cute.”

“Steve gave it to me.”

She quirked an eyebrow and looked up at the supersoldier, who still had your arm. “Steve has good taste.”

“Steve had help.” He admitted, smiling sheepishly.

“I’d get you one too, Rogers, but Thor has the strong stuff.” Natasha said, patting his other arm while you took a sip of the champagne. It was sweet, tangy. “God’s favorite boy scout has trouble getting drunk.”

“My tolerance is too good.”

“I think we just need to get you a Four Loko. Or two.”

“A what?” Steve asked.

“It’s like four drinks in one can. They’re insane. I tried in college, but tapped out halfway through.”

He considered it for a moment, letting out a laugh. “See, that just might work.”

Tony wandered around the lounge, greeting everyone. He looked you up and down. “You look beautiful, Portal Girl.”

You internally chuckled. The others had advised you not to feed his ego when he used his nicknames. “Thank you, Tony.”

“And you’re also here, Rogers.”

“Tony.” Steve nodded.

“You her date tonight?” He asked, motioning to your joint arms.

“Oh. Yeah, I suppose I am.” Steve agreed, not budging. Neither were you.

“Well, I hope you’ve taken some dance lessons since last time, Rogers. I’m sure (Y/N) wouldn’t want to have her feet walked all over.”

Steve chuckled and rolled his eyes as Tony moved onto his next targets. Sam emerged, looking very sharp in a red suit. Even Vision had dressed up for the occasion, Wanda beside him wearing an elegant red dress. The two of them talked and laughed on the other side of the room and you smiled. You could tell when you moved in that he cared about her.

You wondered if robots could have soulmates, too. If any android had a soul, surely it was Vision. Maybe you’d ask him about it sometime.

Once all of the expected guests were accounted for, Tony did the briefest ceremony in the history of ceremonies, introducing you all to the few members of the press he had allowed to come. You spent the beginning of the evening shaking hands, networking, and then once the strangers left, the real party started.

Nat switched you to something a lot stronger to champagne, and she was running the bar, so it was easy to get refills. Clint and Thor were arm wrestling on one of the tables which was…hilarious, admittedly.

Steve found you after a few hours apart. “Hey, will you be my partner?”

“Sure, for what?”

He laughed, loosening up quite a bit with Thor’s Asgardian mead in his system. “Sam and Bruce are trying to teach me how to play Beer Ball or something.”

“Beer Pong?”

“That one, yeah.” He nodded. “Winners play Clint and Nat.”

“That checks out.” You chuckled. “Yeah, I’m game. I haven’t played since college, though.”

“I haven’t played ever so I’m sure you’re a step ahead of me anyway.”

“We’ll see about that. Your physics skills are pretty good, what with the shield and all.” You complimented, earning that charming smile of his. “We might just give them a run for their money.”

“Enough flirting, kids, get over here.” Bruce grinned as he finished lining up the cups.

“You know how to play Beer Pong?” You asked, plucking a ping pong ball off of the table and fiddling with it.

“Kid, I have seven PhDs. I have played my share of Beer Pong.” Bruce admitted.

You couldn’t help but smile at that. It was nice to see the Avengers loosen up like this, have a good time together, really truly bond.

You gave Steve the basic rundown of the rules: no elbows past the edge of the table, balls back, stoplight, island, and that if you let Sam and Bruce get too many cups, you and Steve would get “schwaisted” as the kids said, or, at the very least, you would. Steve would probably be fine.

“Ladies first.” Sam said, giving you the second ping pong ball, one of which, you handed to Steve.

“You’re gonna regret that.” You said, rubbing the ball between your hands before perfectly bouncing it into the cup at the front of the pyramid. “Your turn, Steve.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” He said, sinking the ball into the same cup. “I believe that’s three cups, gentlemen.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. He shared a look with Bruce. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“You’re telling me.” Bruce chuckled, retrieving the ping pong ball and rolling it back. He started drinking the contents of the first cup, leaving the other two to Sam. “Alright, do your worst.”

Needless to say, you wiped the floor with the other two. Barely even gave them a chance. Which is why it was only fair that Clint and Natasha kicked the absolute shit out of the two of you.

You struggled to down your third cup, which is why when you reached for the fourth, Steve shook his head and took it from you, only offering a wink when you opened your mouth to protest.

“Hey! Steve, it’s supposed to be five each.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, she already finished hers.” Steve shrugged, chugging another like it was water. “Right, (Y/N)?”

“Yeah absolutely. What he said.” You shrugged.

You helped clean up the mess a bit after the game was over, rounding up empty cups, wiping down the table, and then washing your hands as Tony switched the music to something upbeat, dancing music.

“Come on, let’s dance.” Steve urged, clearly toeing the line between tipsy and drunk. He reached out for your hand and you couldn’t resist. You didn’t even try.

You let him lead you out to the middle of the room, where Wanda and Vision were already dancing together and looking adorable doing it.

“I thought you couldn’t dance.” You laughed as he spun you around to the music.

“I’m a quick learner.” He whispered, mouth against your ear.

You swore your entire body flushed red, but you let your feet lead you through the dance. Steve took both of your hands, swinging you out and then back in, spinning you around. You blamed the alcohol on what happened next. Your heel caught on the fabric of your dress and you fell over the back of one of the couches, tugging Steve down with you.

He laughed, using an arm to push himself off of you, hovering, eyes soft. “Sorry.”

“It’s my fault. You’ve got me falling for you, Rogers.” You murmured, gazing up at him through your eyelashes.

You said it as a joke, a quip, but there was some truth in it. More than some. It had been a magical, magical night. And if it weren’t for the leather cuff on his wrist, you could see yourself spending the rest of your life with him.

Steve closed his eyes, smiling and sitting up, helping you upright again. “I’ll go get us some water.”

You sighed and sat back against the couch, heart hammering in your chest.

Natasha perched on the armrest, looking down at you. “What was that?”

“Not sure. I think I fumbled the bag. If…if there even was a bag I guess.” You chuckled, shrugging.

“No, there is something there. I can see it.” Natasha said, thinking as she nursed a glass of wine. “Hmmm…”

Steve stood in the kitchen, getting two glasses of filtered water from the fridge. He exhaled a deep sigh, leaning against it. He replayed the moment in his head over and over. The look in your eyes, the way your necklace glimmered in the light, the sound of your voice, the flush of your cheeks. You were catching feelings for him, that much was clear. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

Steve Rogers, I am so sorry you will not hear me say these words until after I go back tomorrow, but I love you. I have loved you for a very long time. And I know I will love you for the rest of my life.

Maybe it was a good thing, he reasoned, thinking back on his first night with you all those years ago. But you still couldn’t know why. Not yet.

It was going to kill him to keep it a secret for ten more months.

Timeless

Sherbert rays of the sunrise lit the training room, filling it with a warm orange glow. You were sitting on the floor, stretching your legs while you listened to music. That was another thing on the growing list of skills that had improved during your stint as an Avenger: your flexibility.

Suddenly, Steve was standing over you, saying something you couldn’t hear due to the noise cancelling headphones over your ears.

You slid one off, looking up at him. “Good morning.”

“Morning. You’re here early.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” You shrugged, reaching for your other leg.

“Sorry to hear that. Wanna talk about it?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I think I drank too much caffeine before bed last night. Learned my lesson. No caffeine after six.”

“That’s a good rule. Mind if I stretch with you?” He asked.

“I don’t mind.” You tossed your headphones onto your workout bag and connected your phone to the Bluetooth speakers, putting on some music you could both listen to.

“I recognize her. This girl’s voice.”

“Taylor Swift.”

“Ah. Yes, her. I keep hearing about her.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.” You laughed. “Have you liked any of her songs so far?”

“I don’t know if I could name one for you, to be honest.” He listened to the song that was playing. “This one’s not bad, though.”

“I’ll send you some recommendations. There are some I think you’d really vibe with.”

He smiled. “I’d really like that.”

The others came in not long after, did their warm-ups, and then Steve briefed everyone on the plan for their training session, one in which everyone would swap weapons, practice using each other’s things in case they ever had to in battle if one of their teammates got disarmed.

You started with Clint. He showed you the absolute basics of archery, how to pull back the bow, how to notch an arrow, how to aim, taking into account distance. You fired a few arrows into a target and did okay, you supposed, but you would need some practice if you wanted to actually get good at it. Years of it, realistically.

Natasha showed you how to use her electric batons, which were fun, but did intimidate you a little. You definitely did not want to end up on the wrong end of those things.

And then, inevitably, you were standing in front of Steve. He offered you his shield, which on its own seemed daunting. You held it for a second, assessing the weight of it. It was noticeably lighter than you thought it would be.

“Woah.”

“Yeah. People always expect it to be heavier.” He said, a hand resting on his hip as he watched you hold it. It looked so right in your hands, he decided. “It’s good for a lot of things, but first…” Carefully, he helped you put your arm through the straps on the back of it, holding it in front of your body in its primary and most famous purpose.

You let out a sigh, shaking your head. “This is so crazy.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, you have no idea.” You chuckled, waving it around a bit.

“You keep looking at it like it’s Thor’s hammer or something.” He teased.

“Feels like it.”

“Well the good news is, this thing is not password protected by some Asgardian magic words. The bad news is, that means the bad guys can pick it up, too.” Steve said, gently positioning your body in an offensive stance, nudging a foot with his own, switching your arms around. “You can use it to bash somebody head on, or you can angle it a bit to get a more direct blow. It will take the force of most things. I…I actually kind of don’t know the limits. Hasn’t failed me yet. The paint does come off from time to time, though, so don’t worry about that.”

“Okay, wow.” You nodded. “Good to know.”

“I trust you with it.” He said, eyes meeting yours.

You smiled, heart racing. “I’m honored.”

He showed you a few other tricks, and then training wrapped up for the day, everyone grabbing some water, taking a shower, or making plans for lunch. Once you walked off with Wanda, Nat cornered Steve.

“What was that?” She asked, that catlike grin on her face.

“What was what?”

“I saw it, you know, the way you looked at her. I think you’ve got a soft spot.”

“Yeah, well, I did rope her into all this. Can’t say I don’t feel responsible for her.” He dodged expertly, weaving through Natasha’s mental gymnastics with skill and precision, or so he thought.

“Uh-huh sure. Well, she, Wanda, and I are going antiquing this afternoon. You should come. After all, you know quite a bit about vintage valuables.”

He laughed. “Hey!”

She walked off, smiling to herself. Steve thought about it for all of four seconds before he decided he would tag along. He hadn’t been to an antique shop in this century, so he couldn’t imagine the kinds of things they had there now. He might even learn a thing or two.

***

After a quick lunch, Steve did decide to tag along. It wound up being him, Vision, and the girls, which he certainly didn’t mind.

You and Wanda were buzzing with excitement, Natasha looking on and following behind with Steve. Vision lingered, studying everything, picking things up to get a closer look. He had projected a human disguise over himself, something Steve didn’t know he could even do, but it seemed to work. No one had batted an eye at him since they stepped foot in the shop.

“This place is…huge.” Steve said, glancing down the hall of the seemingly endless store.

“Biggest one in the state.” You chimed. “It’s the whole city block.”

“There’s a basement, too. And a second floor.” Natasha informed him, patting his arm. “This is gonna be an all day kinda thing.”

“Oh undoubtedly.” He said, setting down the teacup in his hands, a petite, floral thing.

You sifted through a box of records, picking up the soundtrack of the Muppets Movie.

“Is that a frog?”

“This is Kermit thee Frog, show some respect.” You laughed, putting the record in your basket.

“Kermit?” Steve asked again, seeming genuine.

“Oh I forgot you missed the Muppets, oh my god.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound familiar.”

“We need to fix that as soon as possible.” You told him. “Can’t have you missing out on cultural icons like Gonzo and Miss Piggy.”

“Okay now you’re making things up.” He chuckled, shuffling through the records as well. You showed him a few good ones and he added them to his basket, saying something about how he’s been meaning to use his new record player.

Wanda browsed some vintage rings, picking out a few, and Natasha rifled through a rack of vintage dresses, most of them from the forties and fifties from the look of it. Nat held up a navy blue one, silky, with short ruffled sleeves and buttons down the front. Steve froze, looking at it. For a moment, it looked just a little too familiar. Like the dress you had worn that night.

Eventually Nat put the dress back. You hadn’t seen it. You were distracted by a shelf of VHS tapes, looking for the old Barbie movies, whatever those were. Wanda was with you, on the next shelf over, calling out movie names when she found something cool.

Steve wandered off on his own, looking around at the different trinkets and toys, old letterman jackets and jewelry, dishes that may or may not contain lead. Finally, he came upon a little room full of art, paintings and photographs, handmade pottery.

Time stood still.

He stared at the large painting on the wall, oil on canvas. Two star-crossed lovers dancing in a bar in Brooklyn, a little guy with a dream, dancing with the most beautiful girl in the world, twirling in her dark blue dress. His heart raced. He never thought he’d see this painting again.

It had been his last painting before leaving for Camp Lehigh, the last painting he did before his life and body changed forever. He’d used the last of his paints to make it, every color mixed with care to get the exact color of your hair, your eyes, your lips, all from memory.

And it was here in front of him. When he had been presumed dead, it must have been sold off. He didn’t really have anyone left it could go to.

In that moment, he wasn’t Captain America. Standing in his shoes was that little guy from Brooklyn.

“Woah.” You murmured, suddenly right next to him. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, it…it is.” He agreed, looking away from it. He didn’t want you to get too close of a look at it. However, that didn’t stop you from walking forward to inspect it closer.

“‘Soulmates.’ Artist unknown.” You read from the plaque. “Oh, it’s from the 40s. 1943. Does it look familiar?”

“Yeah, actually. Bucky liked that bar.” Steve said, pointing to the details of the interior. “It’s a little place in Brooklyn, called Val’s. Well, it was I guess. I don’t know if it’s still open anymore.”

Your eyes lingered on the woman’s face, on the man’s. You didn’t say anything about how they looked, about the uncanny resemblance to yourself and Steve. Instead, you sighed. “Someday, I want to be that in love with someone.”

He just about cried. But instead, he gathered his words, put a hand on your shoulder, and told you with confidence, “You will be.”

***

Hours later, when you were all shopped out and you’d checked out with your things, Steve stayed at the counter while the rest of you went to the car.

“Hey, um, that painting in the art room. The soulmates in the bar. I’m interested in buying it. Would it be possible to have it held here for a while, though?”

“Oh I’m sure we could arrange something,” said the old man at the counter with a smile and a nod. He started writing out the purchase form.

Steve glanced back towards where it was, that fragment of his soul he didn’t think he’d ever see again. He knew the fact that he’d stumbled upon it was nothing short of fate.

Wildest Dreams

It had been Tony’s idea. Of course it had. It always was, wasn’t it? He’d insisted that all the members of the team who hadn’t yet been exposed to Wanda’s mind manipulation should be, just in case there was a misfire during combat and one of you got caught in the crossfire. It would be important to see how each of you reacted, the kinds of things you saw so you’d be able to snap out of it.

Theoretically, of course.

This left Natasha, Steve, Thor, Bruce, and Tony out, as they’d already had their fun with Wanda’s magic. The rest of you, however, were waiting for your turn.

Wanda felt conflicted about it. She didn’t want to hurt her friends on accident, let alone on purpose, but Tony was insistent, and he had some of the others on his side. Namely, Rhodey, who had been hanging out more and more, and Clint, who’d had his experience with a different kind of mind control shortly before the Battle of New York.

It was part of why he’d volunteered to go first. Once he came to, he gave you a thumbs-up, shaking it off and walking over to Natasha.

“You sure you’re good?” She checked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. No big deal. Who’s next?”

Sam looked at you and the despondent look on your face before volunteering himself to go next. Rhodey went in solidarity, despite being too busy with his government responsibilities to be a full-time member of the team. And then it was your turn. You stood next to Wanda. She offered an apologetic smile before red crackled around her fingertips and it hit you.

For the first few seconds, you were fine. You felt tingly. You blinked a few times and your eyes felt weird. No doubt, your eyes were red, like the others’ turned when they were under the influence of Wanda’s powers.

“Hey, (Y/N), you okay?” Steve asked, voice urgent.

“Think so.” You replied, mouth full of cotton. It felt like that time in college someone had given you an edible that was too strong. The first and last time you’d ever gotten high. Like you were sinking and melting. Your legs buckled and Steve surged forward, catching you before you hit the floor, gently lowering you into a comfortable position. “Hey, you’re pretty strong…” You murmured, head lolling onto his shoulder.

The others all looked at each other. Clint dragged over a bean bag and Steve gently lowered you onto it, adjusting it so you’d be comfortable.

“She’ll be okay, Steve.” Natasha reassured him, the guilt in his eyes palpable, yet still not explained. Not entirely. She had a sneaking suspicion whatever it was had something to do with the name written on his wrist, the name he wouldn’t show anyone. Not her, not Nick Fury, not even Sam.

“Yeah, I know.” He nodded, slowly taking a step back. His eyes didn’t leave you. He had to force himself to look away. “I, um…I have to go…There’s a…” Steve motioned towards the door before leaving the room, while you sat there, catatonic, off in your own little world.

***

“Hey, (Y/N), you okay?” Steve asked, his voice close. “That was a long nap. Forget to set your alarm?”

You opened your eyes and you were laying down on the couch. Steve was standing at the island in the kitchen, cooking something. It smelled good. Really good. He was wearing a button-up, sleeves rolled to his elbows, still wearing his slacks from work. He had music playing from the record player, your vast collection of hits from decades of music, and he was still hooked on 40s jazz. You supposed you couldn’t blame him.

“You cooking?”

“Mmhmm.” He nodded. “Come over here and get a taste.”

You followed, out to the kitchen. He set down his wooden spoon and swiftly intercepted you, pulling you up onto the countertop, kissing you deeply, a hand running through your hair. Your hand came up to frame his cheek. He was growing a bit of a beard these days. You liked it, thought it suited him.

You sighed against his lips and then pulled away to look at him. He grabbed your wrist, pressing a long kiss to your soulmark. Three simple words. Steven Grant Rogers.

“I love you, doll.” His words cut through you, eyes tender and sincere. “Always have.”

But this wasn’t your Steve. And it wasn’t your reality, given away by the slightest tinge of red in his irises.

It wasn’t real. And neither was the glimmering wedding ring around your finger.

***

You blinked awake, the power dispersing from your head, leaving you shockingly sober. And hungry. That familiar sting was back, right between your neck and shoulder. You wondered how long it’d been.

Clint was in the room with you. So was Sam. Natasha was gone. Wanda too, surprisingly. As was Steve.

You got chills even thinking about him, the phantom of the wedding ring still clinging to your finger.

“You alright?” Sam asked, making eye contact with you first.

“Yeah, I’m good. How long…?”

“Three minutes. New record.” Clint said with a grin.

“Oh.” No wonder it had felt so short. Part of you wanted it to last longer.

“We’re sending Rhodey to get some food, if you’re hungry.” Sam said.

“Where from?”

“The golden arches.”

“I could go for some nuggies.” You admitted. “A McFlurry, perchance.”

Clint laughed. “How did I know you would say that?”

In the kitchen, Steve stood, hands on the counter, mug of coffee steaming in front of him, untouched. He stared at the cupboard door.

“That must be one interesting cupboard. You’ve been standing there for like five whole minutes.”

“It’s only been three.” Steve said, glancing at the clock.

“And the fact that you know down to the exact minute is why I’m so intrigued.” Natasha chimed, tilting her head. “What is going on with her? I have never seen you look at anyone like that in the entire time I’ve known you. Is she…what, the kid of an old friend? Grandkid?”

“It’s nothing, Natasha. She’s the newest member of the team, I’m just worried—”

“Steve.” She said, cutting him off, that look in her eye. “If you want to get all defensive about it, fine. Keep your secrets.” She sighed. “But if you need someone, I’m here. Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone.”

Steve let out a long sigh, weighing his options. It was something to the tune of eight months until your birthday. That was still a long time. A lot of time for that secret to slip through the cracks and, potentially, break the timeline. The Butterfly Effect was something he had researched extensively. Your future together was something he wasn’t willing to risk.

No, it was too important that you stay in the dark, even if that meant keeping his friends in the dark, too.

“Thanks. I appreciate it. But I’m fine, really. It’s nothing.”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded unconvinced. “Well, she’s out of it. Clint just texted. She wants twenty chicken nuggets and an Oreo McFlurry.”

The relief was immediate. You were okay. He could only wonder what you had seen in there, and why it had been so quick. The others had been under for upwards of ten minutes. You’d only been down three. “Well good. I’ll let Rhodey know.”

Invisible String

It was late. A few weeks after your tussle with the Scarlet Witch, if you could even call it that. You could tell Wanda felt guilty about the whole thing, but it wasn’t her fault. If anything it was Tony’s. Sure, the exercise had prepared you for a worst case scenario, but it had also dug a very awkward gap between you and Steve. You could barely even look at him without wanting to burst into tears.

He had his soulmate, whoever they were. You really needed to let it go.

You walked down to the kitchen to get a cold drink, but there was already someone sitting at the table. Steve, sitting there, hand resting on his chin, papers spread out in front of him. There was a picture you recognized as Bucky Barnes.

You’d heard whispers of him around the Compound from time to time. Steve’s best friend turned Hydra assassin, brainwashed for decades and now, rogue, out there somewhere. Sam always seemed to be looking for the guy. Natasha and Clint, too. And there had never been any sign of him. Well, until now, it seemed.

On the TV, Star Wars was playing. Empire Strikes Back. Steve looked up at it every so often.

“Star Wars?” You asked.

He chuckled and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Your first time?”

“No. They were the first things I watched when I was out of the ice. I like them a lot. The hope, the Force, the Jedi stuff, the music.” He shrugged. “They’re good.”

“Who’s your favorite?”

Steve smiled, sheepish. “Han Solo.”

“And here I thought you’d say Luke Skywalker.”

“He’s great, too. You like Star Wars?”

“Yeah, I used to be obsessed with them in high school. Haven’t seen them in a while, though. I’m something of a Leia girl myself.”

“That makes a lot of sense.”

“Does it?”

“Oh yeah.” He nodded. “You’ve got that spark.”

“What order did you watch them in?”

“Nat made me watch the originals first.” He confessed. “I like the prequels, though. Well, two of the prequels. Phantom Menace is…”

“Oh yeah. You’re not alone in that.” You laughed softly. “You know, I never really pegged you as a sci-fi nerd.”

“Yeah, well, someone I really care about seemed to like them a whole lot, so I knew I had to check them out.” He shrugged. “What are you doing up so late?”

“Getting a drink. What are you doing up so late?”

He looked down at the papers and then back up at you. “Oh. Yeah, this is just…Trying to get some stuff figured out.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” You offered.

He thought about it for a long moment, letting out a little sigh before nodding. That was the only reassurance you needed before grabbing a can of soda from the fridge and plopping down into the seat next to him.

“They found him. Clint and Natasha. They think he’s hiding out in Kentucky somewhere.” Steve said. He shook his head. “He saved my life a few years ago. After all the brainwashing, he still pulled me out of the water. I don’t know how much of him is still him, but…”

“But it’s worth a try.” You reasoned. “Obviously he’s been through a lot, but he must be pretty strong to have made it through everything.”

“I don’t know when I’m going. They haven’t narrowed it down all the way. And Tony doesn’t want me to even go at all.”

“Tony is full of shit.”

He laughed. “Yeah…”

“If you want to go, you should go. And if you need me, I’m there. You shouldn’t have to do it alone.”

He met your eyes with a sobering gaze. “You mean it?”

“Yeah, of course.” You agreed. “When, uh, when I was in the eighth grade, my class took a trip down to DC. There’s a Captain America exhibit in the Air and Space Museum, it had just opened. We learned about you and Bucky. How close you were, what happened. There are videos of me just crying uncontrollably there, learning about it. They had to take me outside, get me some water. I couldn’t go back in. I don’t even know why. Something about it…”

“About me?” Steve whispered.

“That’s embarrassing. I shouldn’t have told you that.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“It’s not embarrassing. It’s sweet.” Steve said, reaching for your hand on the table. You let him take it, fingers curling.

“So when you found me that day, I guess I always knew it would lead to something like this. A stroke of fate, or something.” You admitted. “Some part of me knew that you would mean something to me someday. I guess I never thought we would be friends.”

“How old were you?”

“God, this would have been like ten years ago at this point. I was like fourteen or something. I was twenty-one when they found you in the ice. It was all over the news my sophomore year of college, kind of right when I was figuring my powers out, actually. And then everything was all over the news and I…went into hiding more or less, hoping it wouldn’t be me on the TV next.”

“Until the mall?”

“Yeah. But I couldn’t just…let it happen, you know? It was like some part of me knew that I had these powers for a reason, and that if I didn’t stop it, who would? I didn’t know you were there, obviously, but, I think even if I had, I still would have jumped in.”

He smiled softly, eyes earnest. He gave your hand a squeeze. “Well I’m really glad you did, for the record. I think we’re all a little better off because of it.”

There was a moment of quiet. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“How old are you?”

“Oh, um…I’m ninety-eight.”

You chuckled. “No, like how old are you really?”

Steve took a breath. No one ever asked him that. No one really cared about that. No one except you, it seemed. “I’m not sure. I’d have to do some math. I think I’m twenty-eight maybe. Twenty-nine.”

“Thought so.” You smiled. “Well, Steve, whenever you get it figured out, say the word and I’ll suit up. We’ll bring him home.”

Out of the Woods

The next mission you were sent on wasn’t to bring back Bucky. Not yet. Instead, you were on the team that got deployed into a rainforest to break up a rogue Hydra base. It was warm, almost too warm for your uniform, but you were grateful for the coverage, especially when they started shooting.

You ran down the makeshift path, evading enemies and throwing up forcefields to stop them in their tracks. Thor was in town, so he was zipping around through the trees with his hammer, the force of it bringing some down every once in a while.

“On your six.” Steve reported through the comms. You dodged out of the way and sure enough, a Hydra agent tumbled ahead, tripped by a small field you cast at his feet. A few of Natasha’s bullets took care of that.

“Thanks.” You replied.

“Don’t mention it. I could actually use some backup. I’m in the building. There’s more of them than I thought there would be.”

“I’m on my way.” You reported, changing directions and sprinting towards the building housing the Hydra base. What they were doing here, you had no clue, but Bruce theorized it had something to do with a meteor that had landed out that way a few months prior. They were probably harvesting whatever materials had been inside it.

You kicked down the door. Steve had six guys on him, two of which he disposed of quickly. You made a portal beneath one guy, sending him falling down a flight of stairs with the second portal you opened.

The other three guys went down quickly enough, only for a guy in a giant mech armor to come crashing through the interior wall. He shot and Steve jumped in front of you, taking a hit to the neck. A tiny syringe filled with shimmering purple liquid.

“Fuck! Steve!” You ran to him, but that didn’t take care of the large problem looming behind you. Seeing red, you made another portal at the feet of the robot, opened it in the ceiling, and cut it off as it was halfway through, destroying it in a flash of sparks and shredded metal. It shut down, giving you time to get to Steve.

He was sitting against the wall, head slumped to the side. You took the syringe out of his neck, tucking it into a pouch on your belt for testing. If this thing was poison, you’d need Bruce to start whipping up an antidote as soon as possible.

“Steve, hey, stay with me.” You touched his face, trying to wake him.

At your touch, he blinked a few times, drowsy. He gave you a crooked smile. “Heyyy, there you are.”

“Come on, we’ve gotta get you back to the jet.” You told him, pulling him to his feet, but he slumped in your arms like dead weight. You had been working out since you’d been recruited, but he was still heavy. “You’ve gotta work with me, big guy.”

“They used to call me little guy.” He murmured, sounding drunk. “Back in Brooklyn.”

“I’m sure they did.” You slung his arm around your shoulders and started hauling ass out of the building. A few agents shot at you, trying to hit you while you were distracted with carrying Steve to safety, but they forgot you were the one Avenger whose specialty was defense.

You lit a forcefield in your left hand, using its faint blue light to guide the two of you through the dim hallways. It slowed all the bullets to a stop, causing them to drop to the floor harmlessly. There was something kind of poetic about it, you supposed. Steve was so famous for that shield of his, but now you were the shield, protecting him.

“Did you guys find anything in there?” Clint asked.

“The good news is, we cleared most of it out. Bad news is, Steve got shot with something. I’m bringing him back to the ship now. I don’t know what it was but he’s acting really drunk.”

“Tranq darts seem to have that effect on him, yeah.” Bruce explained. “Bring him back here and I’ll make sure it wasn’t laced with something else.”

“On it.”

You lugged Steve along, stopping to rest and readjust against a wall for a second.

“Thank you for takin’ care of me even when I don’t feel so good.” He said, leaning his full weight against you.

“Of course, Steve. I’ve got ya.” You pulled his arm around your shoulders again. “You would do the same for any of us.”

He smiled, face impossibly close to yours. “Oh, I’d do anything for you, (Y/N).”

You knew it was probably just the drugs talking but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t do something to you when he said it anyway.

Once you were outside, you opened a waypoint in front of the two of you, the second portal in front of the jet, and then stepped through, closing it behind you. Bruce opened the door and helped you haul Steve inside, onto the cot of the makeshift mobile infirmary.

You handed Bruce the empty vial.

“Thank you for remembering. Thor always breaks these and then I have to do bloodwork to figure out what was in them.” He chuckled.

“He’s very smash first, ask questions later.”

“No wonder he and Hulk get along so well.” Bruce joked. “Alright, get back out there. I’ll make sure he’s alright.”

“Thank you.”

“Be careful out there.” Steve advised, eyes half-lidded. “They have guns.”

“I’ll be extra careful, alright? I promise.” You met his eyes and he smiled immediately. Once you were sure he was okay, you stepped out of the jet again, getting back to help the others.

***

When you got back, you were nursing a bullet wound. They’d gotten you in the arm. It wasn’t too bad, though, the bleeding had almost stopped. Natasha went straight for the med kit when you two stepped foot on the jet, motioning you over to the stool.

Steve was there, still on the cot. He stared as Nat started cleaning your wound. “Wait, you got hurt?”

“I’m okay. It’s not that bad.”

He nodded and reached for your hand. “I’m really glad you’re alright, doll. Had me worried sick.”

Doll. You replayed the word in your mind. Steve had called you a lot of things in the past few months, but never once had he used that somewhat outdated term of endearment. You liked it, though.

You met Natasha’s eyes and she smirked while the supersoldier held your hand.

Sam walked in next, eyeing up the scene unfolding in front of him. “Woah, what’d I miss? Feels like I missed several chapters.”

“Steve is drunk.” Clint explained, counting his remaining arrows.

“Tranq dart. He’s fine. Just needs to ride it out for a few hours. He should be back to normal by the time we get home.” Bruce explained as he put away his tablet.

“You feeling alright, buddy?” Sam walked over and put a hand on Steve’s other arm. “You’re holding (Y/N)’s hand kinda tight there.”

“Huh?” Steve asked, directing his eyes to your joint hands. He let go. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Steve.” You reassured him.

The others trickled in slowly until everyone was accounted for, the base destroyed, the Hydra operatives in SHIELD custody for questioning. Fury and his team would handle it from there. You couldn’t help but play the mission over and over in your head.

Never had you used a waypoint to split something in half. But something had clicked in you when Steve was hurt. You’d never felt like that before, like part of your soul itself was being ripped out. He meant more to you than you cared to admit, especially when your fate was tied elsewhere.

Still, your new ability needed training. It was a dangerous skill to have, and if you didn’t hone it properly, you could end up doing some serious damage on accident.

Come Find Me in the Future

It was the night before you and a select group of the team were heading out to find and recover Bucky. Clint had finally gotten a hit on him. But if he had, that meant others could be after him, too. People that wanted him back. Badly.

You were nervous about it for that reason. You weren’t sure why the rest of you hadn’t already left, to be honest. You didn’t want to race with Hydra. It wasn’t one you were sure you’d win.

To stave off the feeling of dread, you had commandeered the living room TV and popped in Howl’s Moving Castle. You were nursing a mug of chamomile tea in your hands, playing games on your Switch.

You were near the end of the movie, at the part where Sophie was whisked to the past, when Steve walked into the room, in his pajamas, a tank top and a pair of plaid pants.

“Hey, Steve.”

“Hey. You’re up late. Big mission tomorrow.”

“Yeah, it’s almost over.” You told him. “Drinking my sleepy tea as we speak.”

“Sleepy tea?”

“Chamomile mint. It’s good. There’s some over by the Keurig if you want any.”

“Thanks.” He smiled, walking over. “What’s this?”

“Howl’s Moving Castle. One of my favorites.” You told him.

“What’s it about?”

“That is a complicated question.” You laughed. “I’d have to start it over, I think.”

“Another time, maybe.” He chuckled, crossing his arms.

Steve watched as Sophie got sucked back through the wormhole to the present.

She called out “I know how to help you now! Find me in the future!”

He perked up. “Wait, she…there’s time travel?”

“Yeah, she gets pulled into the past for a bit and tells him to find her and then years later, the first words he says to her are ‘There you are, sweetheart. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’ It’s really sweet.”

“They’re soulmates?”

“They are.” You nodded.

“Does that happen? Often?” Steve asked, hung up on it. “In real life?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve never heard of that happening before.” You shook your head. “I don’t think anyone would believe it, even if it did. Happens a lot in fiction, though.”

“Oh. Cool.” Steve nodded. He met your eyes and then looked down at his lap, tongue flitting across his pink lips. “I, uh, wanted to apologize.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “For what?”

“The mission last week. I, uh…I said some things and, uh…I just, I’d hate to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry if I did.”

“You didn’t.” You assured him. “No apology necessary. You were drugged. I probably would have said worse, to be honest.”

He smiled. “Okay. Cool. Thanks. And thank you for agreeing to come tomorrow. We could really use the help.”

“Of course. I’ve got your back, always.” You told him, earning another one of those earnest, lovesick smiles. “Anywho, I finished that playlist for you. The Taylor Swift one. I can make you a more general one with different songs, but…figured that was a decent starting place.”

“Great, yeah, thank you.” He nodded, looking at his phone as it pinged with the notification you had sent it to him. “I’ll give it a listen.”

“Let me know what you think.”

“Oh I will.” He chuckled to himself. “Really, thank you. I appreciate it. And um, have a good night. See you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early.” You saluted.

He nodded before repeating, “Bright and early.”

Bygones

Bright and early was an understatement. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when your alarm went off. You groaned, rolled over and silenced your screaming phone, forcing yourself to sit up so you didn’t drift back off.

Today was too important for that.

Instead, you got up, brushed your hair, and went out to the kitchen, where Vision had whipped up a full breakfast for everyone going out. It was you, Steve, Nat, Wanda, and Sam. A small team, but enough firepower to bring him back without overwhelming and/or scaring him off.

“Morning.” Steve said, eyes landing on you the moment you walked into the room.

“Morning.”

“Coffee?” He offered, pushing a cup of your favorite iced coffee over to you. You couldn’t lie, you were impressed.

“Thanks.” You grinned, taking a long sip to kickstart your morning. You loaded a plate up with eggs, sausage, bacon, and toast, plus a little side of hashbrowns, thanking Vision thoroughly.

“It is my pleasure, (Y/N). As someone who does not require sleep, it would be rude of me to let you all starve so early in the day.”

“(Y/N), you got him listening to Taylor Swift?” Sam asked, eyes drilling into you.

You laughed. “Uh, yeah. What about it? She’s a cultural icon, do you want him left out of the loop?”

“Hey, I’m not complaining.” Steve shrugged, sipping on his coffee.

“Of course you’re not.” Natasha chuckled, words warbled by her own cup. You noticed the way her lips pursed. If you weren’t mistaken, you’d say she was nervous. About what, you couldn’t tell. She seldom got nervous. Or at least, she seldom let it show. But it was definitely there.

Wanda was the last into the kitchen, already fully put together. She gave the chef her thanks with a warm smile and sparkling eyes. You couldn’t help but smile. Those two, beyond a shadow of a doubt, were absolutely made for each other. You wondered what her wrist would have to say about it when the time came.

Once everyone had eaten, those who weren’t suited up got ready, locked and loaded for a tense mission. You’d have Clint on the coms here, doing recon from a drone. The rest of you loaded up onto the jet, strapping in.

Nat and Sam hopped into the cockpit. Wanda sat next to you, Steve across the aisle, his eyes meeting yours every so often.

“It’ll be alright.” You said, trying to dispel his nerves.

He nodded, but didn’t reply, just giving a short nod and staring at the holographic map on the wall as you approached closer and closer. You could see that little guy from Brooklyn peeking through the eyes of the supersoldier sitting across from you, nervous about his best friend.

You unbuckled just before you landed, walking across the jet to strap on your weapons. The others did the same, arming themselves. Nat was going to keep the jet warm for a speedy exit, the look in her eyes still unreadable. The rest of you got ready for war.

It was an abandoned warehouse, large garage door, broken windows, slanted roof with a hole in it. Definitely not the most secure of places. According to Clint’s drone, Bucky was in the back room.

“Waypoint, I need you out here ready to get us a quick escape.”

“Got it.” You nodded, positioning yourself within eyeshot of the warehouse and the jet so you could make a portal either way.

“Wanda, Sam, you’re with me.” Steve instructed, taking a minute to breathe, to think. “He’s gonna be ready to run. We have to talk him out of it.”

“Uh, Cap. Might wanna work a little faster. There’s another plane incoming. About three minutes out.”

“Alright.” Steve nodded, taking off his helmet and slinging his shield onto his back. He led the other two into the building.

For a heartwrenching two minutes, you didn’t hear anything. And then you heard a plane. And then gunshots.

“(Y/N), now!” Steve instructed.

You did as you were told, opening the waypoint in the warehouse, another just outside. Nat had picked the jet up off of the ground, firing at the one Hydra had brought. She took another shot, damaging the wing and causing it to go down.

“Shit, wait—!”

There was a flash of light and you expected it to be Steve that came through first. Maybe Bucky, even. Instead, it was a grenade. And a split second later, it exploded, knocking you unconscious.

***

Steve stood over you, horrified. Thanks to your suit, the damage didn’t seem too bad. But you had blood and soot caked on your face, the ends of your hair singed.

It was his fault. He had told you to open the Waypoint, only for a Hydra agent to toss a grenade right through it.

He all but collapsed to his knees, collecting you in his arms. Bucky was on the jet already, Sam, too. Only he and Wanda were outside with you.

“(Y/N), come on. Open those eyes for me.” He pleaded, voice soft, eyes aching with tears. “Hey, come on. Please…”

“We should get her back to the jet.” Wanda goaded softly, a hand on Steve’s arm.

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, a tear slipping down his cheek. He scooped you off of the ground, an arm beneath your legs, the other around your back. Your arms hung down, limp. Your head rested heavily against his shoulder, eyes closed.

By the time Steve walked up the ramp, Nat already had the infirmary cot down, ready to go. Bucky watched, eyes intense. He looked up when Steve approached, eyes falling on you. They widened when he got a look at you.

“Woah, is that…?”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded. “It is.”

Natasha helped him get you situated in the cot, wrapping the cuff around your arm that would measure your vitals. With everyone accounted for, Sam closed the door, lifting the jet into the air.

“I’ve got Banner on the line.” Natasha told him.

“Good.” Steve’s eyes didn’t leave you for a second, watching as the breaths entered and left your lungs. “Tell him to get the infirmary ready for her.”

“Already on it, Cap. She’ll be okay. Her vitals look…well they look good, all things considered.” Bruce relayed. “Just get back here as fast as you can.”

***

As soon as the jet landed, Steve unhooked you from the vitals monitor and collected you in his arms, carrying you to the gurney Bruce had ready, walking with him as he wheeled you towards the infirmary. Bruce insisted he needed some time and sent Steve away, taking a piece of his heart with him.

Vision checked over Bucky, giving him the okay almost immediately before going to help Bruce in the infirmary.

Steve sat at the table, Bucky sitting down to join him. The others gave them a minute alone.

“Hey, pal.” Steve exhaled, trying to force a smile. “Glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” He agreed. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Of course.” Steve nodded. “I’m with you—”

“Til the end of the line.” Bucky smiled, eyes soft. His irises flicked towards the infirmary and back. “You wanna talk about it?”

Steve let out a sigh, the wall finally coming down and more tears slipping down his cheeks. “It’s my fault, it’s all my fault. She’s—”

“She’s gonna be fine. I promise you.” Bucky’s hand grabbed onto Steve’s wrist, the covered one. The one with her name etched onto it. “She has to be. Has she…does she know yet?”

“No one does. Just me. And you.” Steve confessed. He wiped his thumb under his eye. “So you’re right. She has to pull through.”

Steve held onto that spark of hope for the coming hours. He showed Bucky to the room that had been prepared for him, but Sam offered to give him a tour of the place, knowing their friend was in a fragile mental state.

Eventually, Vision found him and told him he could enter the infirmary. Bruce had finished treating you. When Steve walked in and saw you, still unconscious, laying on that bed, he choked on more sobs. The bruising on your face was pretty severe. You were hooked up to several monitors, an IV. Supposedly, your injuries were not too extreme, but you had a cracked rib and would need time to heal before you could do any missions or training.

Hours later, Nat found Steve in there, wringing his hands, tears in his eyes. He fiddled with the cuff around his wrist. The playlist you’d made for him played softly from a speaker in the corner of the room. Timeless. As if he wasn’t already crying enough.

“She’s gonna be okay, Steve. Bruce thinks she might wake up soon.” Nat comforted, sitting in the chair next to him. She put a hand on his shoulder, confused by her friend’s sudden mood. Members of the team had been injured before and sure, he checked on them, but he never reacted like this.

“I know, I just…” He shook his head. “I’m worried about her is all. It’s…kinda my fault this happened.”

Nat pressed her lips together, tilting her head. “This seems like a little more than that. You wanna tell me what’s really going on?”

He wanted to hold onto his secret. He did. But he was feeling fragile, vulnerable. It couldn’t hurt to have just one more person on his side. “I can, just…not here.” Steve nodded, leading her out of the room, out of your earshot, if you could even hear him while you were out, but still in sight thanks to the soundproof windows.

Nat’s hands settled on her hips, waiting for an answer. Instead, Steve took the cuff off of his wrist and held it out to her, letting her read the letters that had been etched there for the better part of a century.

Her jaw dropped. She stammered, arms crossing. She met his eyes and when she saw the sadness there, the guilt and longing, her expression softened.

“I should have told her. A long time ago, I should have told her but I can’t. In six months, on her twenty-fifth, she’s going back in time to 1943 to meet me on mine. And it…didn’t seem like she knew until she was already there.”

“So you’ve just been holding it in this whole time?” Natasha asked. “You’ve been in love with her…”

“Since the forties, yeah.” Steve nodded. “My great lost love, as Tony likes to call her when he rags on the band I wear.”

“Does he know?”

“No. Just you. And Bucky.” Steve amended. “He was there when she…”

“Right. Weird.” Natasha let out a long sigh, looking through the window. Her fingers reached for her own cuff. She hesitated, but pulled it off, holding her soulmark out to him. “Fair is fair.”

Steve stared at the letters for a long time, realization slowly filling his eyes. The name on her wrist was none other than James Buchannan Barnes. “Oh my God.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you until all the dust settled, but it just settled, so…” She shrugged, putting the cuff back on. “I’ll figure out how to tell him, too, if he doesn’t know already.”

“Buck’s mark was grayed out back then. We thought…well, we didn’t know what it meant.” Steve said, shaking his head. It was the reason Bucky had dated around so much back then. He’d figured if he just found someone else, his mark would change and he wouldn’t have to be alone. Never could he have guessed what it actually meant, that his soulmate wouldn’t be born for another forty or so years. “And then he lost his arm…”

“Yeah, that part I did know.” She smirked. “Well, I’ll keep an eye on her. Let you know if she says anything you need to hear.”

“She probably thinks my soulmate is dead, too. Everyone else does.”

“Ironic.”

“No kidding.” Steve sighed, gazing longingly through the window.

“We’ll get you through it, Steve. You’ve waited seventy years. Six months is nothing.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna sit with her for a while. I don’t want her to wake up alone.”

He slinked back into the infirmary and sat in the chair beside your bed, watching your steady breaths and listening to the beeping of the heart monitor. Natasha watched him through the window, feeling lighter and heavier at the same time. Nevertheless, she was glad they had talked. At least now, they could be there for each other.

Vol. 2 Here

Tags: @cap-lu20

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers soulmate au #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #marvel #mcu #avengers

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hostilemuppet · 4 months

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Brozone (and friends (and enemies)) twitter drama au

Collaborative between me and @squirrelpatties. Truly our magnum opus

Jd: previously a frequent twitter e-clown infamous for name searching and starting beef with people who insulted him. His fanbase thought it was hilarious in a "grandpa escaped the hospital" way. Eventually was forced to relinquish control of @/brojohndoryofficial to his pr manager (clay) after he responded to 14 y/o @/j0ndryballzweat.

Floyd (part 1): his sex tape (with a fan he didnt know was a fan but thats hardly relevant) gets leaked. For the first three days everyone's timeline was full of "do NOT share it around, dont even look for it, if someone sends it to you IGNORE it, this is a disgusting breach of privacy" until Floyd addresses it by tweeting "decided to put on a different kind of show for you guys" and all hell breaks loose. Every tweets hidden replies are full of screencaps and reuploads for a month. People edit the video so just before anything explicit happens it's replaced by a video game cutscene or meme, which Floyd retweets a lot of. His brothers ask him to stop (both for publicity and bc it makes them uncomfortable) so he starts posting thirst traps on insta. Clay yells at him so Floyd tweets "clay just asked when I'm gonna get a girlfriend :/" which brings us to-

Clay: homophobia allegations. Admittedly the least serious and would have blown over quickly if it weren't for him panic tweeting "I'm not homophobic! My girlfriend is a bi lesbian!" People were NOT happy. It takes him three days of retweeting 'helpful educational threads and carrds' on lesbianism written by 14 y/os for people to get off his back. Viva understands.

Bruce: stays off social media bc its the mind killer so he lets clay take care of @/brobruceofficial. This goes well until clay gets drunk and thinks he's on his private account but is actually on Bruce's public. When he wakes up (hungover) in the morning hes got Bruce banging on his door asking why TMZ is reporting on him cheating on his wife. Bruce tells him to clear things up but clay JUST got the lesbians off his back and can't afford to be back in the hotseat...

Branch and poppy: branch was annoyed by all the branch/poppy rpf fanfic (poppy likes them bc she thinks they're cute and funny. When brozone go on tour she reads the smutty ones) so he suggested to poppy that they stage a fake breakup. Poppy is initially against the idea until branch brings up how much fun itd be to sneak around like a couple of teenagers. Poppy scrapbooks the tabloids about their breakup. Clay and Bruce blame clays drunken tweets on branch so clay seems like the victim. Poppy acknowledges this on twitter in a way that very heavily implies they broke up bc branch was cheating on her with her own sister. Viva does not understand. This one doesn't have a resolution yet bc we moved onto:

Barb: previous lesbian icon turned reactionary transphobe. Riff stopped associating with her once she started getting really public with it and now she keeps tweeting stuff like "you-know-who left me just to work with misogynists. Really makes you think 🤔 " which he ignores.

Riff: while still working with barb he was approached to collab with creek (damage control for the... unsavoury things he said about rock trolls). The second the song released he tweeted "wow that guy was an asshole LOL" bc he didn't realise he wasn't supposed to do that. Cut contact with barb once her transphobia went from "mild, I can fix her" to "jesus fucking christ". Briefly worked with Floyd until his second controversy at which point riff tweeted "cmon, man" and turned off his phone. Riff hasn't done anything wrong and he deserves a lot better

Velvet: crafted the perfect expose thread on Floyd when she was in prison, including "pro life" "publicly sharing inappropriate sexual content" and "uses the toothpaste flag". Posts it the second she gets let out of prison and instantly becomes #1 on trending (alongside "floyd" "pro life" and "#HUGS4CLAY).

Floyd (part 2): tweets "why does it even matter that I'm pro life if I'm gay and don't 'believe' in 'voting'" before doing another line off his boyfriends torso. People bring his leaked nudes back up and start insulting his dick size and its the first time hes ever let a controversy bother him. His next tweet is "I am not ashamed of my body" and the top reply (creek pfp) is "you should be ❤". Clay is biting the skin off his own tongue.

#text

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iphigeniainaulis · 10 months

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Background paintings in Ikevamp and why they matter

...even if you are not familiar with art.

Warnings: minor spoilers for all routes, though I tried to keep it as vague as possible

Time to talk about background paintings in Ikemen vampire because…why not?

First, let me warn you that the following is nothing but a theory based on some visual resemblance. While it may occur that Ikemen designers wanted to hide a few Easter eggs, it's also fair to mention that sometimes the sky is blue just because it's Sunday morning, and that’s all.

Nevertheless, one detail may hint at the former statement being true. And this is because there’s a significant difference in how different paintings are shown in the game.

Some of them are blurry, overdark or too bright. While we can distinguish some unclear silhouettes, the rest is on our imagination.

For example, it seems that the first picture is the natural landscape (probably, sunset in the forest) as well as the second one with the Ionic style columns being placed in the center of a garden. Still, we’re not sure.

But the thing is it doesn’t matter. The amount of details the viewer is given is too small for us to make any art-historical assumptions. Based on these mere images we can figure out neither the artist who painted them nor the narrative. Therefore, these paintings have only a secondary function of background decorations and proof of demonstration of their owner’s wealth.

On the contrary, there are paintings that we can easily detach because their creators are too famous to be unfamiliar with. But even within this scope of paintings there is a slight differentiation due to the way they are incorporated in the game design.

Some of them have been revived by the hands of geniuses who once created them. This is the case of Leonardo’s Study of a woman’s head and Study of Hands

or Vincent’s Sunflower and the Olive trees

While it’s easy to reduce the meaning behind this design decision to simple hype, I think that it also serves as a visual representation of the suitors' character traits. What is the point of redrawing the painting that was already brought to life a long time ago? For Vincent it means years, for Leonardo - centuries. My guess is that for artists like them it's never enough. Life is too beautiful to be captured once and forever. A woman’s face is never a mystery solved. While for many people it’s okay to achieve a goal and forget about it the exact minute they are done, for geniuses like Leonardo and Vincent it’s always different. You must improve. You have to work further. There is always something new an artist’s eye can capture. That’s why they painted it again, again and again.

Let's move to another group of paintings. Spotting The Starry Night in Theo’s room is not a surprise because we know that, first of all, they’re brothers with Vincent, and, secondly, Theo is an art dealer.

What deserves to be brought into focus is that this work is regarded as the elder Van Gogh’s magnum opus. Sure, you can argue that the real Theo and Vincent thought little of this painting, calling it “a failure”. To which I reply that, again, this is a game for numerous people across the world, including those who are not familiar with art history. For many of us The Starry Night is viewed as one of the most popular art works, a special work, a valuable one. Therefore, by omitting historical accuracy Ikemen writers and designers try to achieve something more contributing to the plot - they try to evoke certain emotions. Putting the art of such great significance in the room of one of the brothers should be a clear indicator of the amount of respect and love the two of them share. Describing the emotional bond between them is mainly the prerogative of writers. But sometimes game design plays no less if not more meaningful role in the process of us as readers getting familiar with characters. The painting here becomes a subtle part of the plot as it highlights certain prerequisites of their relationship and prepares us for what is going to come next.

The latter is especially relevant to Vlad's route. The female portrait in the pureblood’s room is what takes background paintings in Ikevamp on a fundamentally new level - the level of plot-forming core.

Unlike those paintings I mentioned at the beginning, these ones are no longer a substitute for the room decor. Instead, they serve as a device that pushes the plot forward. It accumulates three major points that are relevant to the plot:

It adds the mystery element for triggering our curiosity. The portrait is ‘faceless’, and even though we all see the resemblance in features, there is this ‘if’ element. What if they decided to go with a classical Dracula plot? Eternal vampire loses his lover and waits for her to be reborn? Is this MC? Why can’t he remember her face?

The portrait itself allows us to get for a second into Vlad’s head and understand his feelings towards the mysterious woman. Vlad drawing her portrait is caused by the act of kindness she showed him. His entire motivation is connected to the single painting. She was the one who he wanted to be with. In order to do so, he had to become strong, to accept his tragic loss and move forward. The portrait serves as a silent reminder about what was his goal and why he chose the path he chose.

It circulates the narrative. At the beginning, MC faces the challenge of being the third one in the relationship with Vlad and his unknown lover. She questions the identity of that unknown counterpart of hers and secretly wants to learn more about her. By revealing the truth of Vlad’s past and their connection, MC figures out who was the woman in the painting which in some way pushes her to find enough strength for making a certain groundbreaking decision.

Finally, there is the third group of paintings that possess what I call ‘potential meaning’. These paintings maintain the main features of the two previous groups, namely, vague silhouettes combined with a rather clear narrative that somehow increases the possibility of them being more than a decorative object.

Take a look at the two paintings in Vincent’s room. In comparison to all other paintings these ones differ not only in terms of shape but also in terms of color. The lines seem to be more fluid, and the color palette is dominated by ochreous, blue and black which is typical for East Asian classical ink art. By taking a closer look, you can actually see the vague outlines of the sea and shrouded in mist mountains in the background. Personally to me such landscapes together with a specific composition angle remind of Hokusai’s Thirty-six Views of Mount Fuji which can be a great allusion to Van Gogh’s obsession with Japanese prints and their role in his artistic career.

The huge painting in Comte’s living room has been haunting me for years, I shall admit. It portrays a marine landscape with a single boat chasing the wild waters in the dark or right before the sunrise. When talking about marine art, the first person that comes to my mind is Ivan Aivazovsky. Yet, it is evident that Aivazovsky’s style was pure romanticism with heavy realistic elements, whereas this painting looks like it's more about light and colores rather than clear and precise lines. And also this sun, this strange orange sun..that can be spotted only in Claude Monet's Impression. Sunrise.

The mansion’s copy is a darker mirrow image of the original work. Nobody knows why Comte chose this painting for the mansion, but isn’t it a bit of irony that the painting that praises France, the country that suffered from the war with Prussia and was on its way to revitalisation, is located in the house that is about to face the battle between the lesser vampires and their haunters or rather the figurative war of two different morals (we are yet to know about it, though)?

Another version is that the painting serves as a metaphoric description of the character. In various routes MC mentions how Comte reminds her of the sun that made manifest, and everything supports this claim to be true, from his golden eyes and hair, to the brightness of the room and..paintings that symbolize the master of the mansion.

Finally, I wouldn't forget about the massive backlash Impressionists had to face at the early stage of the movement’s existence. It was only until the 5th Impressionist exhibition in 1880 that the artists finally got praised by critics. Just a bit more than 10 years before the MC’s appearance. However, we know that the creation of the mansion had taken place before this event. So, my point is that probably Monet’s painting was purchased by the greater vampire during the times when Impressionists were still harshly criticized by the Salon. And if so, the display of the painting that represents the les misérables of the art world speaks so much volume about Comte’s character and devotion to fulfill what he perceives as his noblesse oblige - to support those in need, to help them reveal their talent no matter what social class they belong to.

The game room’s central painting is another amusing detail as it’s completely out of mood. Playing cards, watching chess games or taking any other light leisure activity with a glass of brandy in your hand, you rarely expect to raze your gaze from the table only to stare at the image of ruins. Yet, this is what we get here - a typical capriccio painting like those of Alessandro Salucci and Leonardo Coccorante.

Capriccio artists dared to do something new in the history of art - they put real archeological signs into fantasy surroundings, sometimes from the same time period that the artists lived in. To an extent, they brought the ancient past and allowed it to live in the future, which is not a bad allusion to the original purpose of the mansion’s creation.

And here is what we can spot in Shakespeare’s room. At first, I didn't think much about this painting in Will’s bedroom but something felt odd. And then I understood.

You see, there’s this famous Vincent’s work named Cafe Terrace at Night. The painting is created from the north eastern corner that allows us to see the starry night without facing an obstacle in the form of the cafe's roof.

But this is how the modern cafe looks from a different perspective. Yellow elongated building with two wide niches that serve both as windows and entrance.

Do you see it, right? RIGHT?

I headcanon that Vincent was so eager to spoil his new friend with a present that he decided to redraw his favorite work and give it to the bard. But being an empathetic and observant one, Vincent immediately figured out Will’s admiration of everything unique and rare, so he decided to create a completely new version of his own painting instead of just redrawing it from the same angle as he did with sunflowers.

Aaand this is what we get in the living room. Random at first sight, the composition of various unrelated pictures actually makes sense. The most evident one is, of course, the image of theater curtains. What else should we expect to see in the manor of the great Bard of Avon? The same curtains, by the way, appear in almost every scene where MC and her suitor are invited to Shakespeare’s play.

Just a small detail, but I think this is one of those rare occasions when we can actually name the place Ikemen writers took inspiration from (apart from, of course, Louvre and the University of Paris). What helps us here is the curtains over which we spot golden metal lambrequin with a cartouche that imitates the image of the sun.

Such a prolonged lambrequin with the sun image (in honor of Louis XIV, the Sun King and also the father of the Paris Opera) in the center actually exists only in one Parisian theater - Opera Garnier, where in 1888 Shakespeare’s Roméo et Juliette was staged.

Just to make sure, look at the curtains in some of the most popular theaters that existed during the historical period in Ikevamp - Théâtre du Châtelet or the Opéra-Comique. You won't find a similar one.

Two last possible Easter eggs may be related to the two historical objects that existed during Shakespear’s era. The first one is still connected to the curtains for as you see, there were rumors (modern archeological findings prove them to be true) that the first venue of Shakespeare’s plays was called ‘the Curtain Theatre’.

And the second thing I want to point at is two images of the chair. Honestly, I highly doubt that a person like Will who has an almost narcissistic obsession with expensive staff would put a painting of such low value in his private apartment. But I can understand it, if this is not an image of some random piece of furniture but the well-known Shakespeare’s Courting Chair, wherein, according to William Henry, ‘the bard was used to sit, during his courtship, with his Anne upon his knee’.

Anyway, I hope it wasn't too much. Thank you for reading!

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #cybird #ikemen series #ikevamp shakespeare #ikevamp vincent #ikevamp comte #ikevamp vlad #ikevamp theo #ikevamp leonardo #ikemen le comte #ikemen leonardo #ikemen theo #ikemen vincent #ikemen shakespeare #ikemen vlad

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vorthodoxy · 4 months

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ok but hear me out. An immortal pred who has a fucked up sense of love, falling in love with mortals and not wanting to leave them behind when they eventually die. so the best course of action? Eating them and digesting them. The pred thinks this will keep them together forever, and is totally fine with it, despite the guilt of hurting their love. The pred will eventually digest them of course, and in the morning the pred will lovingly caress the new fat on their tummy, having their partner apart of him forever

It's RLLY angsty but also kind of hot idk...

-🍓🎭

yESSSSS I'M ENTIRELY ON BOARD FOR THIS thank u strawberry thespian

the pred is lonely, part and parcel with being immortal, but the world is filled to the brim with so many interesting people! they travel from city to city, spending just long enough to get to know each one like the back of their hand before moving on to the next one, and then coming back once it's been long enough for the city to grow and change and transform.

they LOVE people. no matter where they go, they immerse themself in the lives of others, fascinated to see the way mortals learn and grow and make mistakes and leave a legacy. they dance with them, they tell stories with them, they tumble into beds with them.

every so often, they meet a particularly interesting one-- a savant of the generation, a genius, or a true humanitarian, or someone with enough ambition to strike the gods down from their seats. the pred will become this person's lover, their confidant, their muse. and they'll reveal their immortal nature to the sweet, brilliant, fascinating little human.

and, almost unfailingly, the mortal who has won their favour will ask if it's possible for them to share their immortality.

the pred will often play coy, piquing their mortal's interest even more fervently.

well, there is one way. it's wonderful. you would become so much more. but it's also painful. it... changes you in more ways than you know. i would only share this with someone i truly trusted.

and the mortal is so eager to prove their love, to prove they're trustworthy, that they're worth bringing into the aeons.

i would love nothing more than for you to join me.

the pred helps plan their delectable little artist's "last day as a mortal." the best day of their life, the day in which they finish their magnum opus, and prepare to become part of something much greater.

it's almost time. i trust you. do you trust me?

and the mortal nods...

hours later, the pred's immaculate, ravenous belly is gurgling and squeezing playfully around its squirming prisoner, hard at work processing the new hefty meal.

the pred is amorously massaging their massive gut, trying to get their tasty lover to just relax, it's okay, let it happen. you wanted to be part of something greater, and I wanted you to be part of ME. and now we both get what we want! shh, shh, i know it's scary, but i'm right here, i'm all around you, and i'll keep you safe... soon, nothing will be able to touch you, no blades, no disease nor famine, not even time itself... i couldn't leave you behind to waste away, to fall to dust, you're too (uuurp) beautiful... and delicious... just stop squirming and let my belly take you apart~

of course, they planned this perfectly, they've had practice. no one will disturb them this evening, or the next day. they fall asleep still rubbing their great, bulging tummy, trying to soothe their softening meal.

the next morning, their gut is about halfway done redistributing their lover to their hips, chest, thighs, and waistline. they happily pinch and squeeze the new layer of soft, warm pudge on their body, delighted to see their lover taking so well to their new position in life. they spend the day in bed, celebrating their lover's "immortality".

then, in the evening, they sigh, squeeze into their traveling clothes, and set out. it's time to move on to the next city.

#strawberry thespian #asks #thanks anon!#my writing #long post #digestion #honestly this could be a series. following this pred from ancient rome to the european dark ages to edo japan etc etc etc

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starcurtain · 1 year

Text

Haikaveh Fanfics I Want to Read (Part 2)

<- Part 1.

Part 3. ->

1. The Palace of Alcarzarzaray might be called Kaveh’s magnum opus, but actually, it was more like a kick-start for his career. Kaveh hasn’t known a moment of peace since, with constant commissioners begging for him to choose their projects. The longer his waiting list gets, the more his fame grows and grows... So when a pair of people come out of the woodwork insisting they’re Kaveh’s long-lost parents, Alhaitham thinks it’s only right to be skeptical.

Kaveh agrees (for once), but... they’re so nice to him, and apparently he’s got siblings, and they haven't asked him for anything; they say they never meant to leave him, and they love him, and--and--how could he just turn them away? What if it’s true?

What if he has a real family?

Of course, when these so-called parents start encouraging Kaveh to move back home with them, Alhaitham becomes determined to unravel the lie and show them for the imposters they (almost) certainly are.

It’s only because it irks him to see people twist the truth and get away with it. It’s only because the logical step is to point out obvious manipulations when you spot them.

It’s got nothing at all to do with how empty the house will feel if Kaveh isn’t in it.

Nothing at all.

Rest under the read more:

2. Okay, listen. The fact that Kaveh and Alhaitham are both 12s out of 10 does not change the fact that they’re also MASSIVE NERDS. The fic is just silly snippets of them being the graduate school gremlins they most definitely are:

Is it even fighting if all you are doing is reciting academic citations at each other?

Saturday night, we are both at home doing nothing but debating over the rules to an ancient word game that we’ve mostly pieced together from the barest disconnected snippets of apocrypha and one oblique reference in a single receipt of sale from 1600 years ago, because we are Normal™. The most normal people in Sumeru, even.

How Althaitham flirts: Practicing his newest language acquisition by translating nothing but obscure ancient love letters (“Well, they could have had romantic intention but we shouldn’t allow modern interpretations to color our perceptions without thorough analysis of their semantic contexts and candid awareness of the moral obligation of the translator to avoid speculation on connotations which might privilege biased readings--”). Then he heaps his transcriptions all over the top of Kaveh’s desk and chair and bed and...

How Kaveh flirts: “I built you a bookshelf.” “I take back every uncharitable thing I’ve said about architecture this week.” “It is both climate-controlled and self-dusting. Also, it will catalog which books are missing after they’re removed from the shelf and remind you when it’s time to put them back in place so that you’re not tempted to leave your moldy tomes all over my--” “Wait, who is this bookshelf actually for?”

“See, I’m allowed to criticize his work, but you, peon, are absolutely not. Here is my 50-page rebuttal of your recent article critiquing the architect Kaveh’s research, in which I will outline exactly why you are an incomparable idiot who should be disbarred from publication ever again. Very uncordially, Alhaitham”

The only time Alhaitham and Kaveh are unequivocally, indisputably, and inseparably a T E A M: Tavern Trivia Night. (The schedule for tavern trivia night is shortly thereafter altered to: “Any time in which Kaveh and Alhaitham are not on the premises. The management apologizes in advance for last minute trivia night cancellations, but asks patrons to please respect the rule that not even a single trivia question be spoken in the presence of the Light of Kshahrewar or the Akademiya’s scribe.”)

In other words, two geniuses live their very best lives together.

3. When Prince Alhaitham's viziers started nagging about his lack of spouse to ensure an heir, he dismissed them out of hand. But the truth is, he can't inherit the full privileges of his family's throne (including unfettered access to the kingdom's collection of forbidden records) unless he upholds an ancient peace treaty between his country and their most useful trading neighbor: to become king of Haravatat, he has to marry a citizen of Kshahrewar. Alhaitham isn't the type to bow to social or legal pressure, but if it means he might finally be able to further his research, well, he's willing to swear even a marriage oath to get the knowledge he desires.

But he's not willing to marry anyone unworthy. He's not willing to marry anyone boring, or rote, or feeble-minded, or ill-tempered, or shrill, or under-educated, or ambivalent, or weak, or too polite, or--

If Kshahrewar is going to insist on a political marriage, then Alhaitham will insist on accepting only the best.

But now things are starting to look grim. Prince Alhaitham has interviewed and dismissed (in no polite terms), every eligible Kshahrewar maiden and and no small number of their eligible men besides. For Alhaitham, this is but a formality on his way to further reading, but for the Kingdom of Kshahrewar, real fears are stirring--if they can't find an acceptable candidate soon, the peace treaty that has ensured their alliance with Haravatat’s military-might could dissolve, and already the neighboring powers of Vahumana and Spantamad have been testing the boundaries of their borders...

Entirely out of options, the nervous kingdom gives in and sends the last person they'd want to lose: the Light of Kshahrewar, their beloved architect and most renowned scholar.

But it's all right, because Kaveh has a Plan®.

All right, admittedly, the plan was a lot closer to "Be way too beautiful to reject" than "Argue all night and wake up just to argue again," but hey, whatever works?

(Also known as: The Thousand and One Nights AU where Alhaitham's not quite crazy enough to kill the people he rejects but will crush their self-confidence; Kaveh's not great at telling stories but is great at debate; and the ultimate outcome is still the same very cliffhangery happy ever after.)

4. If you asked Kaveh Kshahrewar, on-call urban planner for the city of Sumeru, he would expound at length and with several melodramatic sighs upon the fact that his life is fraught with a great many challenges and his fortunes are fraught with a great many (obvious in retrospect) mistakes.

To put it simply, Kaveh will tell you he just has rotten luck.

If you were to ask the High Council of Principalities of the Fifth Ring of the Host of Heaven, they would tell you that Kaveh’s luck is actually quite good... for a person in the targets of the dark legions of Hell itself.

There are some exceptional humans upon whom the wheels of fate are hung, whose very existence is destined to bring beautiful things to the world, to tip the balance in the eternal fight between good and evil firmly toward good. Kaveh is one such person, and therefore all his life he’s been a target of unseen forces that would rather see his light snuffed out.

But that last near-death experience was too close. If Kaveh is left to his own devices much longer, he very likely will perish, long before he’s able to achieve his fated great works for the world. Heaven has to do something.

Alhaitham is a very, very efficient Principality. Maybe the most efficient Principality the Host of Heaven has. But he’s never--not once since the beginning of creation--been called on to actually guard a human. Yes, yes, of course he’s read the manual cover to closing, but...

But no one thought to warn him that they were so very emotional.

“Who are you and what are you doing in my house?!”

“I’m your guardian angel. I live here now.”

“911, I need to report a home invasion in progress! Please send help, there is a lunatic eating raw butter out of my fridge!”

(Or: The guardian angel AU where Kaveh is disaster prone because he is Very Cursed, and Alhaitham is even weirder than normal because his frame of reference for humans is still “wears fig leaves.” It’s a tragicomedy in six acts: Kaveh’s going to change the world for the better. His future is already written in stone. And nowhere in that record is there anything about falling in love with an angel, so Alhaitham knows he’s not supposed to be anything more than a bit part in this grand story.

Too bad Kaveh’s always sympathized with the side characters most.)

5. During an exploratory trip to the desert ruins looking for remnants of the Deshret Script, lone researcher Alhaitham discovers a strange--and, in fact, magical--teapot, containing none other than a beautiful (but rather noisy) djinn.

“My name is Kaveh.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“I’m a djinn.”

“I can tell.”

“I’ll grant you three wishes, if and only if--”

“Five wishes.”

“What?”

“You should grant me five wishes.”

“Why?”

“Because I asked politely.”

“You absolutely did not! Ugh, fine, I’ll grant you five wishes. But only--and I mean only!--if you’ll agree to set me free at the end.”

“All right, I swear.”

But where are they now?! Kaveh is getting desperate. It’s been six months, and Alhaitham hasn’t made a single wish! At this rate, Kaveh will never get free! He’ll be stuck bunking in a house full of tacky furniture, being tricked into doing the laundry and sweeping forever! This is so unfair; how is it even allowed?! Alhaitham is human; he has to have some kind of wish in that stone-thick head of his!

(The truth is, Alhaitham does have a wish. It just can’t be granted.

He swore an oath to set Kaveh free, after all.)

#haikaveh #kavetham #alhaitham/kaveh #kaveh/alhaitham #genshin impact #alhaitham #kaveh #genshin impact fanfic #fanfic ideas #I don't have time I just have ideas

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moodywyrm · 1 year

Text

about me + master list

hi, I'm moony! I use she/they pronouns and I'm a 21 yr old college student who loves writing <3

my blog is pretty much all tlou2 writing rn, but I also love Stranger Things, Arcane, Overwatch, and The Legend of Korra <3

Proud co-mom (with @pinknightsinmymind) of the Farmhand to Farmer Abby and Sevika aus, as well as Rockstar Sevika

DISCLAIMER: any and all college! basketball! abby fics I do are credited to @elsweetheart who basically kicked off the basketball! abby and (in my opinion) writes the best basketball abby!! all of mine are specific to a chubby reader n au that I’m slowly building up (with y’all’s help <3), but if u want the OG, go to kittie <3 in general go to kittie she’s wonderful!! a delight!!

Be warned, my blog is NSFW, so Minors Do Not Interact. If I get the feeling you are a minor, and you don’t indicate otherwise in your bio, you will be blocked. Once again: MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS GET BLOCKED.

And since y’all can’t think critically. ED BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. fuck off. my blog is heavily aimed at being a safe and loving space for fat girls. literally choke on my metaphysical dick if you think you can bring that shit onto my page.

if u wanna support my writing, I love getting asks n replies n reblogs!! u could also buy me a coffee <3 And I have a wishlist, on throne 💕

not all of my work is on here! my long poly! steddie fic, as well as my old AOT work, are only on AO3

mdni banners by @cafekitsune !! this will stay here for as long as i use them, so if I forget to put a disclaimer on any nsfw content from here on, this is here!

Random Stuff

Sapphic Book Recs

Hozier Song Recs

General Book Recs

reading update - august 4th 2023

Stranger Things

thoughts on nancy and robin’s friendship (and maybe more)

thoughts on the first time nancy came home from college

thoughts on being eddie’s chubby lil partner - suggestive

little reassurances - eddie munson x lexi (commissioned)

soft breath, beating heart - eddie munson x chubby! reader - suggestive

excerpt from “why can’t this be love” - poly! eddie munson x chubby! reader x steve harrington (the magnum opus)

fresh hot buns - eddie munson x reader - suggestive

you know it’s not the same as it was - eddie munson x reader

The Last of Us Part Two

book patrol - ellie williams x chubby! fem! reader

TLOU2 drabbles masterlist (in universe and various au’s)

college! basketball! abby masterlist (with chubby reader and bookworm reader and chubby bookworm reader :) )

farm au Abby Anderson masterlist

Bonus for TLOU and Arcane: the cutest exchange I’ve ever had about Farmer Abby and Farmer Sevika

Arcane

no breakdowns here - college! vi x reader

abby and vi tapping your pussy after making you squirt - nsfw

college! vi kissing her gf’s back

vi taking care of you when you’re on your period - suggestive (like one comment)

vi taking care of you when you have chronic pain - leg cramps

cuddling with a needy + clingy vi

taking care of vi on her period - suggestive (one comment)

giving vi a back massage - suggestive

vi being touchy with a chubby girl - suggestive

vi when her gf sleeps naked - suggestive bordering into smut at the end

cuddling naked with vi - suggestive

vi loves fat pussy! - nsfw

vi with nipple piercings - nsfw

sucking on vi’s nipples - nsfw

vi's endless stamina - nsfw

vi + ankle kisses - nsfw

sub! vi getting strapped - nsfw

vi + bear hugs

taking a bath with vi - nsfw/suggestive

heavy petting with vi - nsfw/suggestive

vi laying between her chubby gf’s thighs

Sevika

farm au! sevika masterlist

rockstar sevika masterlist

sevika bouncing a big girl on her strap - nsfw

sevika being needy and eating you out - nsfw

sevika with a chubby! short! gf sitting on her lap

face-sitting with sevika as a big girl - nsfw

sevika and chubby! gf at the beach - suggestive, like one comment

cuddling with sevika after work

ikea with sevika

cuddling with Sevika when your tummy hurts

short tiny sevika angst w/ hozier’s “unknown/nth”

sevika and using a smaller strap than you asked for as a joke - nsfw

sevika with pierced nips <3 - nsfw

sevika holding your pussy and cunt when she sleeps - suggestive

Ambessa Medarda

some thoughts about ambessa medarda - short nsfw

Overwatch

missed you - Brigitte Lindholm x reader - nsfw

The Legend Of Korra

lin beifong getting her frustrations out with her wife -nsfw

lin beifong in a suit - nsfw

Resident Evil

carlos oliveira’s shaggy hair - nsfw

college! jill valentine x bookworm reader

#masterlist #about me

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i-want-my-iwtv · 4 months

Text

♥♥♥ Carbonated Blood ♥♥♥

(ノ°∀°)ノ’.:*・°☆

Inspired by recent interest in this blog, and for ppl newly landing on it, I made this pinned post as a welcome, a warning, and some tags I would recommend that are specific to my blog for my favorite stuff. Here's why it's called i-want-my-IWTV.

🤘 A welcome: I'm Burnadette (21+) and this blog is an unofficial Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles appreciation blog started in July 2013, but it's not an authoritative resource, I'm just collecting fanworks and other dash goodies based on my own rubric, sprinkling catnip out to the fandom, and answering asks for ppl who are curious about my opinions on things. I encourage positivity and optimism! ✨

My AO3: Burnadette_dpdl

Co-mod @wicked-felina and I typically run the @vcsecretgifts exchange, you can check out the archive there. We had to take a 2 yr hiatus for real life reasons, we hope to revive it in 2024 💕 In the meantime, go check out @vamptember (@hekateinhell and @monstersinthecosmos), for a wealth of VC fanworks!

⚠️ A warning: You may encounter things you dislike on this blog, such as ship art of ships you dislike, discussions about dark fiction, problematic characters, and other such topics. My free time for fandom is limited and I do this for free for my own entertainment, so I don't engage in bad faith discussion, and I'm generally picky about engaging* in all discussion posts or personal posts.

You may have noticed that I don't post/reblog much about it if I can help it: While I do not like the current IWTV AMC 2022 adaptation, I can talk about it, and I do appreciate that it's brought fresh blood 🩸 into the fandom, a lot of talented fanart and writing! And yes, ppl can enjoy IWTV '22 and other adaptations and canon and absolutely whatever 🤝, these things are not mutually exclusive 😎 (I tag it #iwtv 2022 and #iwtv amc if ppl need to block those tags.) With that said, I think there are some fabulous ppl who can embrace it all, like @xxhellonursexx! There are role models like Nurse, able to venn diagram the VC content with a sense of humor and respect.

So I welcome new fans, and encourage them to ask questions and engage with ppl like me, there is limitless room for everyone.

ANYWAY.

Behold, my STUFF: Some of my favorite tags in no particular order, this may evolve over time:

(Cut for length)

Lin, get in here and settle this - (Not a tag but this is my 20 second magnum opus 😎✨)

vampire physiology - Both about Ricean and other vampire media, studying them like lab animals and talking about it!

Fandom laws - Fandom's been around a long time, and I think a big part of having a great experience in it is mutual respect, which ppl have codified in fandom laws. When/if you break them, you may turn other ppl off and that can spread quickly; you build your reputation by your actions.

digging up an oldie from the archive - when I need to throw an older post on the dash to share again, maybe there's a reason, or a great addition.

hello dinner - Various amusement about vampires and their dinner.

messy eater - Related to the above, it's less common (canonically) for a Ricean vampire to spill a drop of blood, so it used to be more dramatic when we'd see art/fic of spillage! There are vampires from outside VC in that tag, too, I couldn't resist reblogging them.

vampiredevelopment/interviews and rec - this is some of my favorite textmeme content 😂

memeything - y'know, memes, some are embedded in more serious posts, but I think when I first heard the word "meme" I didn't think mine really counted? So I made it "memeything" so as not to land in a "meme" tag if they didn't count, but eventually I decided that "meme" can be pretty widely defined, so mine kinda do, but by that point I was far into the habit of using my own word, so there it is.

how to make a post a vc post - when you just gotta insert your fandom into an unrelated post bc it FITS.

VC fandom hunters - when you're looking for other VC fandom ppl to role play with, etc.!

Lestatiquette - Lestat ettiquette.

Lestatuesque - Someone/something is acting like Lestat.

Lestats closet - Something you might find in Lestat's closet, a resource for fanartists/writers looking for inspo 🙏

Its a coffin - fanart and works involving coffins!

We appreciate and love Louis in this house - There was a wave of sentiment criticizing Louis for various reasons and these are thoughtful responses to that criticism. Tag started by the magnificent @covenofthearticulate/@theballadofmrslovett (go check out her ideas, and her AO3 covenofthearticulate, she is so so good 💞)

Defending Antonio - There's periodic discussion about Antonio Banderas as Armand in the '94 IWTV movie, I love him, and I'm totally rational about it

Louis has canon hair I know that will make at least 2 ppl I know very happy - and idk if I would even reveal privately who they are but definitely not publicly! I don't want to put them on blast! 😅 I appreciate Louis with different hairstyles and I've debated about it enough that like... I can appreciate Options but some ppl would prefer to see his hair as it's described in canon 😙

VC wedding hysteria - What it says on the tin.

iwantmyiwtv has opinions - a way to signal that these are my opinions only and not presented as fact.

Iwantmyiwtv rp - I sometimes take asks for Lestat or Louis to help inspire my fanfic. Specify who you're asking and they might respond 😎, Lestat response starts with ♛, and Louis with ♠.

vc news/vc casting - For sharing news and post casting ideas, as there are multiple adaptations and there's always fantasy casting! It never ends.

not vc/vc adjacent - I see some ppl have adopted these two! I made these out of a kind of purist approach, I wanted to reblog smtg and share it but it wasn't exactly VC, soooo, it's my acknowledgment accordingly.

VC - I may have used this in the past but I don't anymore, bc there are tons of things that could have that abbreviation, I assume, so I don't find it too be descriptive enough for use as a Vampire Chronicles tag 🤷🏼‍♀️

*You may see older posts that were written in a bubblier/sassier manner than I'd be comfortable with now, but I find those to be charming now, it's a 10+ yr old blog, after all! Our internet experience has evolved. What's cringe or even rude now was normal then and I know that my intention was always positivity and anti-censorship, so that includes not censoring myself. ✨ I ask that you have patience with those responses that may not have aged well as you have patience with an artist or writer's earlier works, or your own growth over the years! 🌱

#i want my iwtv #iwantmyiwtv #pinned post

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sflow-er · 6 months

Text

Some thoughts on writing and posting fic

In the last few days, there have been some lovely posts by fic writers, encouraging an anon who was thinking of posting their first fic but worried about readership. That kind of got me thinking as well, especially as my magnum opus just reached a bit of a milestone on ao3:

Those 50,000 hits (and 1,151 kudos) blow me away, and I'm forever grateful for each and every one of them - but this isn't a post about that. It's a post about how there is no point in comparing these stats to my latest fic, which will take a while to even break 500 hits (and hopefully 50 kudos). Or any of my other fics, for that matter.

Below are some of my personal thoughts on fic writing, the factors that I believe affect the popularity of a fic, and the motivational impact of engagement. My perspective is obviously that of a niche writer, but I think these observations could also be of interest to new writers or anyone struggling with such comparisons. I'll put a cut here because this got very long, but the TL:DR is this:

I write for myself, not for my readers. I post for my readers, not for the numbers.

A quick bit of background info: I have a pretty long history of sharing my writing. When I was little, I used to make comics & picture books for my younger brother, and in secondary school, I used to write stories in my English notebooks that only my teacher ever got to read. In my teens, I wrote fanfic in a couple of obscure fandoms and even a novel-length original story. The readership was just a handful of people, including my closest Internet and IRL friends, and I was very happy with that.

Before YR came along, I had not managed to write a creative text in over a decade. My studies and work had put out the spark, and I thought it was gone for good. So when YR reignited it, I very much started writing for myself. I'm sure every writer knows that feeling of something taking shape in your head and begging to be let out, as well as the satisfaction of seeing it all come together on your screen. At least I really hope they do.

Still, I knew right off the bat that I wanted to share the fic. I didn't care how many people read it, I just really hoped someone would. I missed the feeling of seeing people get joy out of something I created and connecting with them through it. Especially as I didn't have any other outlet for my YR thoughts and feels at the time. I also wanted to contribute something to the fandom that helped me regain this long-lost part of myself - and of course I could use some encouraging feedback too.

So that was how my magnum opus started out, and because of the timing, it became more popular than I imagined. The fandom was young (I started posting in August 2021, S2 wasn't even confirmed until September) and everyone was just really hungry for more. The vast majority of fics were focused on Wilmon from the start, but people were interested in pretty much anything exploring the rich and still largely undiscovered world of the show. My fic was niche and I had neither the guts nor the platform to promote it, but many people still found it.

I consider myself unbelievably lucky to have started posting at such an opportune time. The fandom has evolved in these 2+ years, and things are quite different for authors starting out now.

For one thing, the chorus of writers has expanded as more people have discovered the show and been inspired by it. As wonderful as that is, it does make it harder for any single voice to stand out. I think promoting one's work in fandom spheres such as tumblr and writing compelling tags and descriptions on ao3 has probably become more important, and of course it also helps if you've got some existing readers who follow your work.

Because for another thing, the readership has changed. Some fans have either left entirely or only follow their favourite writers now, while others have joined. New fans tend to start with the fandom classics, other wonderful recommendations, or the fics with the most kudos or comments. Which makes a lot of sense when there are thousands of fics to choose from, but it inevitably puts newer and more obscure writers at a disadvantage. Furthermore, it feels as if the number of readers who prefer completed fics may have increased, as people have seen some fics get abandoned along the way (and they now have more completed works to choose from). Again, that's very understandable, but it can feel discouraging to multi-chap writers.

I also can't help but wonder if there's been a shift in the fandom's interests, especially since S2. There's more canon to follow or disregard now, and people have had more time to develop fanon and their personal headcanons. All that affects what they want to read.

For example, the developments in S2 may have put some people off certain characters/ships/dynamics or made them fall in love with others. They may have started curating their reading to their hopes and expectations for S3. Some might even favour AUs to avoid speculation or guarantee Wilmon endgame, or they might long for fics solely focused on Wilmon and their love after they spent so much of S2 apart. There's nothing wrong with any of these approaches - but they do curb the already lower interest in fics focused on other characters, gen fics, rarepairs, unusual takes, and so on

To circle back to the example of my first fic, it would not get that kind of engagement if I started posting it now. It might be more popular than my other fics thanks to Wilmon featuring prominently as side characters, but it would still be outsider POV. In fact, even readers interested in the characters I focused on might be deterred by, say, the slow burn and lack of sexual content (now that those characters are a more established non-canon side ship and there's more fic available).

In a lot of ways, it's paradoxical to even speculate on this. If I started my first fic now, it would either be a totally different story (compliant with S2), or it might not be finished at all. What those 50,000 hits don't tell you is that a large portion of them were people checking for updates. The project completely took over my life for 10 months, and I doubt I would've got through some of the rough patches without the wonderful readers who were excited to follow it as a WIP, even when my updates got sparse from all the stress. My other fics would either not exist at all or have far less engagement if it wasn't for the loyal readers left over from that first fic, and the first fic wouldn't have as many reads without all the people who have reread it (as I know some have). And of course it is now also benefiting from the large number of existing kudos.

Anyway. My point is that comparing stats is neither fair nor useful, and that doesn't just apply to my own fics or niche fics in general. Every fic is published at a certain point in time or over a certain period of time, in a fandom that is always in flux. The things that inspire us as writers may not align with the interests of the readers - or even if they do, the readers might not notice or be aware of it.

So the question is, how to reconcile the need to share your work and connect with people with the ever-changing odds of those people finding your work?

I'm not going to lie, sometimes it is extremely hard. I often feel really low and doubt myself a lot after posting, but I think I've made it to a point where I don't get too caught up on it anymore.

One key thing is to draw a distinction between the writing and posting. The writing itself should always be primarily for me, because it's my creative energy, time, and effort that goes into it. I should be able to retain that feeling of satisfaction and pride in the story itself, because if I hang my hopes on the audience and they simply don't find the fic, I will just feel like it was all wasted. The value of the fic and especially my value as a writer cannot be tied to anyone else's reaction or lack of it.

Still, the two distinct parts of the process are never completely separate for me. I'm sure they can be for some writers, but I do need that feeling of connecting with people through my creations, and the extra motivation to stick with the effort (to get through longer projects, or to start new ones).

So the second thing I do is, I try to hold on to the mindset I used to have as a kid or teen writing for my brother, my teacher, or my friends. To internalise that my readers aren't numbers on a screen, but real, human people who have taken an interest in this thing I've created. They've allowed me to share it with them and had thoughts on it (whether they put those in a comment or not). Maybe it was just a moment's diversion for them, or maybe it actually moved them. Either way, we connected for a while.

Here, I must acknowledge again that I am incredibly privileged. I've got a handful of regulars who have been reading me since August 2021, and another handful who have jumped on board along the way. Many of them not only read but also comment on what I post. Even that latest two-parter I mentioned at the start has 19 comment threads, and I'm fully aware of how rare and precious that is.

But the fact remains that the contrast to my first fic has still been an adjustment, and I find that thinking about engagement in terms of people rather than numbers has helped me put it into perspective.

I could never find a room full of people to read my writing in real life, but there they are, reading it on their phones or computers and leaving twenty hits on my fic. Every person leaving kudos is basically equivalent to my teacher returning my notebook with that single check mark that meant "I read this and I enjoyed it." As for the individual comments, they aren't too different from my very small group of friends in high school telling me they loved something and couldn't wait for more. In a way, they're even more amazing, because these people don't even know me, but they are still investing their time and emotions into my fics!

Of course this mindset also has its pitfalls. I often feel like I'm letting people down by not writing faster, for example, but that's just one more thing I need to work on. All in all, I feel like I'm definitely on to something here, so thank you for letting me share these thoughts with you!

#young royals #young royals fanfic #young royals fic #fic writing #writing motivation

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an-au-blog · 5 months

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Just craving fluff and imagining College Au Shuggy celebrating the holidays by just doing very unchristmassy things together. They both seem like the type to like certain aspects of Christmas only to then be hit by waves of depression when the actual holiday arrives, so they just huddle under the covers together and watch Christmas classics such as “Die hard” or Gremlins together instead while eating Pizza and drinking eggnog till they can’t stand this stuff for another year. Buggy gives Shanks his gift at 2 am in the morning, an extremely ugly and old tacky sweater he found at a thrift shop a while ago. Shanks can immediately tell that it was cheap and Buggy most likely just went out and got him… SOMETHING, but also it’s hideous in a way he just adores and it has one of his favorite childhood cartoon characters on it and the fact alone Buggy went out and got him something is PERFECT and to Buggy’s horror that thing is gonna be his favorite sweater till the end of time. Buggy on the other hand suffers a mild mental breakdown and “Oh god I am the scum of the earth” reaction because Shanks actually went into a makeup store and got him an expensive eyeshadow Palette that Buggy has been eyeing for a while now. Kicker is Shanks didn’t even know that’s the Palette Buggy wanted, he legit just spent an hour in there with a picture of Buggy describing what Buggy looks for in makeup and what colors he likes and such and such and accidentally just landed on the correct one and rightfully deducted that he would probably like this one.

“WHY DID YOU GO AHEAD AND BUY ME THAT YOU HORRIBLE, UNFLASHY FANTASTIC BOYFRIEND?!” “I thought it would make you happy.” “IT WOULD IF I GOTTEN YOU ANYTHING GOOD AS WELL!! JUST A BED BATH AND BEYOND GIFTCARD WOULD HAVE BEEN WORSE!!” “Come on Buggy I love this thing-“ “THIS IS LIKE GIFT OF THE MAGI IF IT SUCKED EVEN MORE THAN IT ALREADY DOES!” “You could always kiss me to make up for it.” “I ALREADY DO THAT.” “Then let me kiss you… AND you’ll have to let me do it for the entire day without telling me I’m being sappy or disagreeing with me when I talk about how much I love you.” “…. Okay but you’re not allowed to say weird shit about my nose.” “…Can I kiss your nose?” “Ugh. I’ll allow it. But not in public!” “Deal. I won’t talk about how cute and kissable your nose is and I especially won’t talk about how cute and kissable it is in front of other people.” “YOU JUST- AUGH! You’re horrible! An absolutely awful boyfriend!” “Glad to have landed someone as amazing as you then.” “You-“ “Ah! We agreed on not disagreeing when I talk about how great you are!” “….fine.” “I love you... and I love how hard you blush when you can’t answer with a sassy comeback” “….mmmmnnnggghh!!! loveyoutoo.”

At first I was like "awww this is so adorable:')" but thwn I got to the dialogue part and went "ok, so we're assuming they're gonna get together, now are we ahahah"

I'm guessing you're the same anon who sent me a couple other college au asks - so first off: Thank you, you honestly keep me productive and remind me to finish this fic lol (since I named some of the others, maybe I can call you ogan - bc og anon or something idk, you can refuse or give me another nickname if you want...)

But also... have I given any indication that this will be a story with a happy end? Because, I've written ends with a doomed one sided love triangle, one of the main characters being hated by the love of their life and in a hospital, while the one the other was chasing rejected them indefinitely... it was my magnum opus for quite a while, so who's to say I'll give this one an ending like that?

I'm joking, I'm joking... or am I >;]]]

Anyway, I love the idea of them spending the holidays together! Buggy doesn't really have any close relatives to go to, all his friends went home, and thinks that Shanks is the same way, because why else would he stay behind with him?

Shanks is just so happy that he can finally be with his boyfriend. He makes hot cocoa (and it's horrible, but Buggy remakes it), he buys a cardboard cutout of a Christmas tree and they put stickers on it instead of decorations. At one point they start printing out memes and pictures of themselves and stick them on there as well. (Shanks secretly writes a wish, something cheesey like how he wants them to be like this for the rest of their lives, on the back of some of the photos)

In all reality, I believe that "Die Hard" and "Home Alone" (because these two franchises are basically the same, just one is kid coded lol) would be both Shanks and Buggy's favourites. I mean look at how they turned out ahahaha tho I must confess, I've never seen Gremlins, so I'll just trust you on that one':)

I also think thay Buggy would get horrible gifts very purposefully. Like he would look for hours to find the most raggedy and washed out looking sweater with the ugliest print of like... a green cow on red mars with a Christmas hat on both the cow and mars saying "moo-ry christmas" in comic sans or something horrifying like that. Like that one video of the guy who bought a card for the wrong occasion, for wrote a message to someone else and scratched out the name to look like it was a second hand card. I couldn't find the og video but I found this tiktok, hope it helps with the explanation.

In my mind Buggy thinks it's hilarious. Him and Shanks both love pranks and just jokes like this in general, so he would get it, right? Shanks liking it unironically wasn't in the plan. But then bad comes to worse and Shanks takes gift giving seriously - Buggy is caught off guard.

I love the image of Shanks standing in the cosmetics section of a big store that was one of the best according to google. He's just staring intensely, and color checking, and googling, and staring again - trying his best to remember everything Buggy had told him about make-up.

At some moment in the time he's searching, one of the workers there goes up to him to see if he needs help thinking "aw, poor lost man looking for something for his girlfriend, he looks like he needs help" and then Shanks shows her a picture of an honest to God clown going "I want the best for my boyfriend". And they have a little "This is your man?" "yeah" "Look at the picture" "that's mine :')" "and you're ok with this?" "imma stick beside him " moment. And then they just start looking together. Before they notice it's a whole horde of helpers and Shanks going all, "is that teal? I think he said he loves teal, but not one with glitter, wait, bring back the cherry red. Can you compare it to the sour cherry. Which one would match his lipstick best? This one's his favorite." and they're like a council, super invested at that point.

I also like to think that on new years eve, they're watching a marathon, and Buggy just falls asleep on Shanks's chest halfway through. He does that often and Shanks loves it. He doesn't even care that much that sometimes his make-up would be imprinted on his shirt .

Shanks showing love to Buggy's nose, despite his insecurities, makes me melt. (spoilers ig:) I was going to have a little dialogue/confrontation that portrayed that, but I was going to make it a "Shanks not caring about it and just acting like it's not there" thing, but him actually thinking it's cute and being all loving towards the one thing he's most insecure about is actually way better. I might utilize it later on lol :))

#shuggy #college au #shanks x buggy #buggy x shanks #answers #op

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darkpoisonouslove · 25 days

Text

Trivia Tuesday

Who says Trivia Tuesday is only for written works?

I have been putting this off for 3 months but I wanted to share this compilation of my favorite moments from my Daylight video for Griffin x Valtor and do some commentary on them, talk about the process behind this video.

*I chose to overlay the song from the beginning instead of making you listen to the different segments that go with the footage smashed together in a cacophony. Here's the full video if you want to reference which parts of the song correspond to the respective segments.

There is no reason for me to bring this up other than that in the og video the line "you and I drink the poison from the same vine" just so happens to play while this is going on. I swear that was not on purpose. I chose the vine attack against Valtor because of the dark green glow around the stem which looks like Griffin's magic in order to make this more convincing... and then I realized that this moment happened right as that lyric was playing.

This whole segment starting from Griffin and Faragonda and then switching to Valtor in his lonely tower before Griffin contacts him because she wants to talk to him too and can't tear herself away is just so wistful and nostalgic and the music (especially in the actual video) only adds to that vibe. They're both brooding - out of the daylight - because they despise their obsession with each other but still can't help it.

I especially love that he proceeds to break into Alfea to talk to her and she blasts him with a vortex of books because she sensed his presence (I just didn't include that part in this compilation because then I'd have to post the entire video). It is a headcanon that I've had for a while that because they were partners for so long and the Dragon Fire is the most powerful magic which created the whole universe, Griffin has learned to home in on his magical signature because she can distinguish it from anyone else's.

-- Join me. -- A horrible idea.

I find this moment utterly hilarious. I don't really have anything else to say about it but I guess I can share the process of picking the dialogue for the video. Valtor's lines were easier to pick because they mostly come from a couple of scenes but I had to scour the entire season 1 (aka every scene with Griffin) to figure out which of Griffin's lines can be useful and then I had to piece together actual conversations from them, the one above being my magnum opus.

I simply enjoy the way I made these two different scenes fit together into one to make it look like his whole "teleporting in your chair" shtick happens right in front of Griffin's and the viewer's eyes. This is why I love video editing!

This one! Oh, this was a legendary moment for me! A whole new step in my video making career. I feel like I unlocked a whole new part of my brain when I realized that I could use the mirror effect to showcase Griffin's spell creating her clone. I have never used the mirror effect before and finding such great application for it that adds to the story (because I wasn't sure my idea with the spell was coming through before I came up with this) was certainly a highlight of my video making process.

Kind of on the other end of the spectrum this is here because I wanted to explain that the vortex is the portal that Griffin opens to sneak back to her office and catch Valtor off guard while he's watching her clone. I wasn't sure all of that was clear but I was running out of ideas, mental energy and remaining seconds from the song so I kind of had to speedrun that if I wanted to fit everything in the video.

I thought Valtor deserved a taste of his own medicine (aka payback for the illusion spell he used on Griffin, Faragonda and Saladin at Light Rock lake). Is this scenario realistic? Mayhaps not. But! Griffin used to study under Lysslis with him so she could have picked up some very convincing illusion magic too!

I'm thinking that perhaps I would have been able to provide more insight into the video and my thoughts on it if I had written this back in January when I could still remember the process of making this but it is what it is. I got to talk about it again and rediscover some of the joys that this particular video brought to me which was fun! And now this post works as a throwback to refresh all our memory on my latest efforts in video making before we see where I go from here.

#winx club #griffin x valtor #winx griffin #winx valtor #covenshipping #my video #video #trivia tuesday

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dem-obscure-imagines · 2 years

Text

The Book Keeper

Kili x Reader

Fandom: Tolkien

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

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

Bear with me and behold my Magnum Opus.

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

Word Count: 45k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I…I am.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He drove a hard bargain, that was for sure.

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

He winked. “You’ll need it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You heard a few voices murmur “She?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whereabouts?”

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

The rest of the dwarves murmured amongst themselves.

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

“Another realm?” whispered another.

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

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

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

He stiffened. “Are you an elf?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Probably not. Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

You grinned. “Sure, Kili. Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is blank.”

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

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

You grinned. “Yeah, it is.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How are we doing?”

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

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

“Trolls.” You replied, scrunching your nose.

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, Kili.”

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smirked. “Really?”

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

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

“Do you? I didn’t know.” He teased.

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

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

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

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

You inhaled.

“Release.”

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

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

“You think so?”

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s a ‘prom?’” asked Fili.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want to try?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About the journey? Or are you homesick?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You think so?” Balin grinned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You think so?”

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

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

“In Rivendell?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I hope so too.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you told her yet?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded, exhaling a shaky breath.

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

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

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

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

“I quite like that.”

You chuckled softly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You groaned. “Great. Right on schedule.”

“You knew—” Fili realized.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?” he asked again.

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

“Good.”

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

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

“It’s not.” You confirmed.

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.” You told them sincerely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The other dwarves chuckled.

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About what?” Fili asked, perking up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You stared at him. “It does not.”

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

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

“I’m fifty-one.” Bilbo replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think so too.” You nodded.

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

“Where are you going?” Bilbo asked.

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

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

He looked puzzled. “Did I get what?”

You wiggled your ring finger, holding up your ring.

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, it is.”

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

Kili’s eyes widened. “What? I’m—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Plan, what plan?” Ori asked.

“There’s a plan?”

“What’s a plan?”

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong?” Kili asked.

“Do you trust me?”

“Always.” He answered without hesitation.

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

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

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

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

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

“Smart thinking.” Bilbo agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can only hope so.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Were you spotted?” Nori wondered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t think I’ll sink you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How’s our progress?” Thorin checked.

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You watched him, curious. “What?”

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

***

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

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

“Is it broken?” Bofur asked, curious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Da, who is this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

“I was counting on it.”

“Interesting.” He nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

“Oop, there it is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s close now, isn’t it?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, sure, I’ll help.”

He grinned. “Excellent.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So are you!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The company laughed a little at your drunkenness.

“Great. Do you know what a One is?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it for any occasion in particular?”

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

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

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

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

It was absolutely perfect.

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

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

“Well?”

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

“Hmm?”

“…for your uncle?” You reminded him.

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

“Mmhmm.” You hummed, unconvinced.

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

You laughed in disbelief. “Oh my god.”

“It’s not for me!”

“I know that.” You shook your head.

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

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

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

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

He breathed in relief. “Thank Mahal…”

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

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

You nodded. “I do.”

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

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

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

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

Fili was stunned silent for a long moment. “That does sound…awful.”

“It is.”

He looked around awkwardly, unsure of exactly what else to say. “So…what kind of flowers do you want?”

***

That night was the last night the company was staying in Laketown. Your efforts had bought the group some extra time to spend on the hike up to Erebor. You were spending the evening to yourself. The dwarves were out drinking in the pub, so you were in the house alone, preparing your things for more travel.

You sat on the bed you had claimed and went through your pack, organizing your clothes, folding them in piles. You pulled out your stack of polaroid photos and started shuffling through them. There were so many that you and the dwarves had taken over the course of the journey. The guys making silly faces, cooking dinner over a campfire, dancing and singing songs together, visiting all kinds of beautiful places together. You’d always known Middle Earth would be beautiful, but you had no idea the extent of it. And yet, after having been there for so long, it was beginning to feel more like home to you than the realm you’d come from.

You stared at one picture in particular, one of Thorin, Fili, and Kili all together. You couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. It was about time you faced the inevitable. Your own personal quest to save the line of Durin was nearing every moment. You weren’t sure what to do about it. You hadn’t told anyone, obviously. You didn’t even know what they would say. And if you did tell them, there was the chance that it would make them nervous and even more likely to die. Or, worse, one of the others could die as well. That blood would be on your hands.

You found yourself wishing, now more than ever, that Gandalf was there so you could ask him for advice. He was the only one who would know that to do.

Instead, however, the first to wander back from the festivities was none other than Bilbo Baggins, a smile on his face and a wooden mug of something in his hand.

“(Y/N), what are you doing in here all alone?” He spotted the tears running down your face and stopped, his expression softening. “Are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” you nodded, sniffling and wiping away your tears as quickly as you could. “Just, uh, taking a little stroll down memory lane, I guess.” You held up some pictures and he nodded, walking closer.

“You know, if there’s anything you need to talk about, I’ve got open ears.” Bilbo offered, closing the door behind him. “I may not be as wise as Balin, but I like to think I’ve acquired some wisdom of my own on this trip.”

“Thank you.” You chuckled, nodding. “I appreciate it, Bilbo.” You let out a long, shaking sigh. “I really wish I could tell you what’s going on, but I don’t want to put you in harm’s way.”

Bilbo nodded, thinking for a long moment before replying. “Whatever it is you’re facing now…you’ve been carrying it for a while, haven’t you?”

“For longer than I’ve known any of you.” You admitted.

“Well, whatever it is you’re carrying…you don’t have to carry it alone. If you need to tell someone, it can be me. You’ve carried my burdens, let me share yours.”

“Okay, well…” You choked back a sob, pulling the book out of your bag. You flipped through the pages at the very back of it, scanning the tiny words carefully. What you hated the most about it was how easy it was to miss. Like an afterthought. One sentence that broke your heart a million times over.

You pointed and handed the book to Bilbo so he could read it for himself. You couldn’t bear the thought of reading the words out loud. “Am I allowed to read straight from the book?”

You nodded, so he allowed himself to scan over the words, and as soon as he did, he let out a sigh and shook his head.

“Wow, (Y/N), I’m so…” Bilbo exhaled. “You’ve known this the whole time?”

“That’s the reason I’m here. Gandalf told me…he said I’d be able to change it. To try at least.” You shook your head, new, hot tears trailing down your face. “I don’t know. I’m just…so scared.”

“You have every right to be.” Bilbo said. “And, especially now, with everything between the two of you…” He handed you the book back and looked you in the eye. “I am so sorry. Have you…have you spoken to Gandalf about it since then?”

“Not directly. He’s never here for long.”

“Ask for his advice. I’m sure he’ll know what to do.” Bilbo assured you. “And if he doesn’t, well…you and I are rather good at making plans together. We will figure this out.” He took your hands, very serious. “You’re not going to lose him, alright? I promise you.”

You sniffled and nodded, looking at him for a good, long moment before pulling him into your arms. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Book Keeper.”

***

The next morning, bright and early, just before the company was set to leave for Erebor, you knocked on Bard’s door, nervous. In your hand was a note, a warning about the dragon that was set to come for their town. You explained it as well as you could in a way that you hoped he would understand. It was inevitable, but if he was prepared, it might prevent damage to the town, save some lives.

When he opened the door, he had a dismissive look on his face before he saw that it was you.

“Oh. Hello. (Y/N), was it?”

“Yeah. Hi Bard. Um, so, you can take this with a grain of salt if you want, but I thought you should know.” You handed the note to him and he held it, hesitant.

He raised an eyebrow. “A prophecy from the Book Keeper?”

You nodded. “So it would seem. And thank you for helping the dwarves. I know they probably didn’t thank you properly. I’ll do my best to make sure they hold up their end of the bargain.”

He stared at you for a long moment. “Thank you. Best of luck to you.”

It was a weird moment when you stepped down from his stairs, back down to the dock where Kili was waiting for you. It felt significant. Bard had an impact on you when you’d read the story as a child. It felt…right to help him now. And you knew how important he’d be for the outcome of the story and everything that would come after Smaug’s death.

Not long after, the company boarded a boat and set off towards the shores nearest Erebor. It was beautiful. The waters were fairly calm, the sky was alight with color…You watched as Laketown got smaller and smaller behind you, the Lonely Mountain growing closer and closer.

You caught Kili squinting at the distant grass, searching for wildflowers, no doubt. You couldn’t stop your heart from melting at the sight.

“I bought some things at the market in Laketown. When we get camp set up, I’ll have Thorin send Kili and Fili out to scout for a bit.” Balin told you, his voice quiet. “And then we can get started.”

“Awesome.” You nodded, a chill running up your spine. It was finally happening. You stared at the ring around your finger and couldn’t help but smile thinking about its future. “Thank you, Balin.”

The old dwarf smiled, a twinkle in his eye. “Don’t mention it, dear. I’m quite excited myself.”

Six of the dwarves paddled the boat for a few hours. Not long after, they switched. Kili had been paddling during the first shift, so once he was finished, he plopped down in the seat beside yours, his leg resting against yours. He kept staring up at the Lonely Mountain, his eyes absolutely glimmering with excitement to finally have reached your destination.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” He asked, his voice soft and sentimental.

“It really is.” You agreed, nodding. You imagined years from now when the rest of the dwarves journeyed to Erebor from wherever they had gone to since, business bustling, children laughing. You knew it would be so beautiful. You hoped you’d get to stick around to see it. You still weren’t sure how it would work when everything was done.

Kili slipped his hand into yours and squeezed it excitedly, bringing it to his lips. You swore your heart skipped a beat. Any of the dwarves that witnessed this interaction laughed softly to themselves.

The boat landed some time later when the sun was beginning to tickle the tops of the hills nearby. Thorin decided to camp as far from the mountain as possible, as to, hopefully, not wake the dragon overnight, but he would have dwarves posted on guard all night just in case. He was ever-grateful you’d bought them an extra day of time. The following day was Durin’s day, which meant that around tomorrow evening, the dwarves would enter Erebor finally, and, inevitably, Bilbo would wake the dragon.

Yikes.

As soon as you got out of the boat, you spotted a crate not too far from the shore and scrunched your eyebrows at it. While the others started unloading things, you walked over to the big box and noticed a piece of paper sitting on top of it. Upon closer inspection, it was addressed to you.

“What is that, lass?” Dwalin asked, noticing your absence.

“It’s addressed to me.” You read the words in your head.

My Dear Book Keeper,

Do not stress to much over the days to come

It will all work itself out in the end.

Well done so far. Enjoy these with the company.

I’ll see you soon.

-Gandalf

“It’s from Gandalf.” You told them, pushing the lid off of the crate to find a whole bunch of bottles of black cherry cream soda. “He brought us that cream soda I like.”

“I wonder what it tastes like…” Dori wondered.

“We’ll have it with dinner this evening.” Thorin declared. “For now, set up camp and keep an eye on the skies.” He stared up at the mountain for a long time. It would be quite the hike tomorrow, but you knew it would be well worth it.

Sometime after they got the boat unpacked, the camp set up, Thorin sent Kili and Fili out to scout and Balin and Bofur found you not long after, looking excited.

Balin took a tiny kit of jeweling tools out of his bag and unrolled it, showing you all the tools he had at your disposal.

“Alright, lassie, do you have an idea of what kind of design you’d like to do?”

“The bead should be pretty thick, right? Is this circumference okay, or should it be smaller?” You asked.

“Let me see.” Balin held out his hand and you carefully set the ring in his palm. He pulled out the little glass eyepiece he used for reading to examine it more carefully. “Kili’s hair is quite thin, so it might be wise to bring it in a little bit, but in terms of thickness, yes, it should be a thicker band.”

“I got some chains at the market. They’re silver, so they’ll match.” Bofur said, presenting a few broken pieces of jewelry he’d picked up at the market. Well, either he had picked them up or Nori had…borrowed them, one of the two. “Should add onto it quite nicely once it’s melted down.”

“Wait, is she courting Kili?” Ori asked, completely unaware until that very moment that something was going on between you and the youngest prince. “Why am I always the last to know?”

“She will be, but for now, keep quiet, lad.” Dwalin, roughed up Ori’s hair. He met your eyes over the fire and winked at you. “Would hate to ruin the surprise.”

The three of you worked quickly, with Balin and Bofur directing you through every step of the process. The other members of the party occasionally chimed in with advice. Thorin watched the whole exchange with proud eyes. He didn’t say much, but you could tell he approved.

And once it was finally done and cool enough to touch, you couldn’t stop looking at it.

“I think he’ll love it.” Bilbo said, smiling proudly.

“It is quite beautiful, (Y/N).” Thorin complimented. “Very impressive for your first work.”

“I had some really great teachers.” You said, emotion welling in your voice. You looked at all of the dwarves that were around you, Bilbo sitting among them as well. This was your family. These were your boys, and even with Kili and Fili out scouting for the moment, you still very much loved and appreciated each dwarf in attendance. “You guys really mean a lot to me. All of you. All of your advice, your comfort, your lessons…I will carry all of them with me for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t go all soft on us now, lass.” Dwalin tilted his head, compassion in his dark eyes. “We’ve got plenty of time for that.”

“Right.” You laughed softly, nodding.

“When are you going to do it?” Dori asked. He’d always been something of a hopeless romantic, as he’d told you. Loved the idea of young love and the innocence and beauty that came with it.

“I was going to wait until the day after tomorrow to do it. I can’t give too many details now, but…I don’t want to distract him while there’s still a dragon here.”

“That’s a good plan.” Balin put his hand on your arm. “Best of luck to you, dear, but I doubt you’ll need it.”

***

Kili and Fili came back sometime later, and once they did, the rest of the party finally got into the drinks Gandalf had sent. You’d all found some large logs to sit on around the fire. You’d tucked the bead into a pocket for safe keeping and were sitting there, staring into the flames when Kili approached, a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand. They were beautiful, purple stalks with smaller yellow flowers in between.

He seemed nervous, standing for a moment before deciding to sit on the log next to you. You could tell he was rehearsing in his head how to word what he was about to say next. Thinking about it, you had been a bit vague in the advice you’d given to Fili.

“These, um…I picked them for you.” He said, handing the bouquet to you. “I hope you…like them.”

“These are beautiful, Kili.” You assured him, holding the flowers and admiring them for a long moment. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He nodded, taking a shaky breath. “I’m glad you think so.”

There was a moment of quiet and you could tell he was contemplating asking whether or not this meant you were courting now, but he didn’t say anything else, unsure of exactly what to say. So, you decided to fill the quiet.

Setting the flowers carefully on top of your bag, you took Kili’s hand and leaned on his shoulder. “I’m really glad I came here, Kili.”

“To Erebor?” He asked quietly.

“To Middle Earth.”

He squeezed your hand. “I am too.”

“It’s been a while since you’ve spoken of home, lass,” Dwalin pointed out. Everyone was circled up now, facing the fire and sipping on their bottles of black cherry cream soda.

“Yeah, you don’t talk about it much anymore.” Ori agreed, nodding.

“It’s…well, it’s pretty boring, honestly. I’m no fighter. I’m a writer. I’ve been writing a fantasy novel, ironically enough, but I got stuck and didn’t know where to take the story.” You shrugged, lifting your head from the dwarf prince’s shoulder, but not letting go of his hand. “There’s no elves or goblins or trolls or…magic there. We latch onto these stories of whimsy and adventure so much because we don’t have it where I’m from. It makes us feel alive.”

You were quiet for a moment, fetching the book from your bag.

“I’ve had this book since I was twelve years old. I had to read it for a class when I was in middle school. Usually I hated reading things I was forced to read, but…I knew this book was different. I could feel it, even then. A classic adventure, a quest to kill a dragon, but there was so much more to it. My friends and I were excited to read the assigned chapters every week to see what trouble you guys would get into and then fight your way out of. It was fun. And at the time we were reading it, they were also in the process of making movies about you guys.”

“What’s a movie?” Fili asked, seated on Kili’s other side.

“Oh. Right. Well, um…a movie is like a play. Kind of. Except the whole thing is recorded with a camera. Imagine if my Polaroid could make moving pictures with sound. It’s like that. Moving pictures with sound that tell a story. And so my classmates and I all took a trip to the theater together to see them and it was really special. I couldn’t imagine then that I’d ever be here, that I’d ever see these events with my own eyes, intervene in them. Even before I knew you guys existed, you had a really big impact on my life. You all got me through some tough times.”

“And you’ve gotten us through tough times.” Bilbo smiled. “I’d say we’re probably even now.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to repay all of you for everything you’ve done for me. So I guess I’ll just have to stick around and keep trying.”

“Will you stay?” Kili asked, his voice quiet. “A long time ago you told me if you got the choice, you would. Is that still…how you feel?”

The company was quiet, waiting for your response.

“If I get to choose, I will absolutely stay here. If you’d all have me, of course.” You were looking at Kili now, your other hand joining the first, holding his. “I don’t think I could live in a realm that doesn’t have you in it.”

Kili leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling you into his arms. You reciprocated the hug immediately, surrendering to his warmth. You felt the tears trail down your cheeks. Unlike the night before, you weren’t sobbing, you weren’t sniffling. You were barely making any noise at all, but that didn’t seem to stop the tears from flowing.

“(Y/N), you will always have a place in our halls.” Thorin said, watching his nephew embrace you. “You and the Burglar both. You’re our kin now.”

“Once we get the library back in working order, we’ll need a Book Keeper.” Nori pointed out, causing the others to laugh.

You nodded and pulled away from Kili. He noticed your tears immediately and reached out to wipe them away.

“Oh, Amrâlimê, there’s no need for tears.”

“Someday you’re going to have to tell me what that word means,” you whispered, a soft laugh escaping you.

He smiled. “Soon.”

“Promise?” You held out your pinkie finger.

He stared at it for a long time. “What am I meant to do with this, Book Keeper?”

You reached for his hand and shaped his fingers, tucking them all down aside from his pinkie. “This is a very important human custom where I’m from. Sacred almost. Everyone pay attention.” You told the others, linking your pinkie with Kili’s. “We call this a Pinkie Promise. It’s an unbreakable oath.”

“Why are you just teaching us this now?” Fili laughed.

“Unbreakable, you say?” Kili laughed, his pinkie curling tighter around yours.

“Unbreakable. Now you have to tell me someday.”

He smiled. “Deal.”

***

You didn’t really get much sleep that night. Too much on your mind. The next morning, the dwarves packed up their supplies just as the sun was peeking over the horizon again. It was going to be quite the hike. Honestly, you were excited for it. It felt right, finally being there after everything you’d all been through to reach Erebor.

While getting ready for the day, you put some of the flowers Kili had given you in your hair, tucking them into the single braid that sat on your shoulder.

Kili gasped and you looked down at him, his eyes fixed on your bare finger, just now noticing that your ring was gone. “Amrâlimê, where’s your ring?”

“Oh.” Your eyes widened and you looked at your hand and then at him. “I guess it must have slipped off at some point.”

Kili started scanning the ground for something small and shiny. “Fili, help me look.”

“For what?”

“For (Y/N)’s ring!” Kili exclaimed, exasperated.

You bit your lip, unsure of what to do. You looked to Balin for advice, who shrugged, chuckling.

“We can look for a moment, but we must get going.” Thorin insisted. “We have no time to waste.”

“Uncle—”

“It’s okay, Kili,” you met his eyes.

“But your ring…”

You reached out and tilted his face up towards yours. “If it’s meant for me to have, it’ll find me again.

His eyes softened and he let out a breath. “You are wise beyond your years, you know.”

You shrugged, smirking. “Seems you guys have rubbed off on me.”

After the slight delay, the group got moving again, walking closer and closer to the base of the Lonely Mountain. There were footpaths up to the entrance, sure, but they were steep, and since the mountain had been uninhabited for so long, they had eroded in the weather, making it difficult to walk.

Kili went on ahead of you, offering his hand and tugging you up when the steps were too steep. Sometimes, he’d let his hand linger in yours, fiddling with your fingers. You would never forget the way he looked at you, like you were made of starlight. No person you had ever been romantically involved with had ever looked at you like that before. God, you wanted to kiss him so bad.

Finally, after hours of hiking, the group reached the landing where the secret door was hidden. You pulled out the book while one of the other dwarves consulted the map. The sun would be setting soon, so all there was to do was wait.

“Are we sure this is the spot?” Ori asked.

“Yes.” Thorin nodded. “Book Keeper?”

“We’re all good here. Just keep an eye out for the hole. Watch for it while the sun is setting just in case, but it should show up by the light of the moon.” You told them. “But yeah, make sure you double-check during the sunset, just to be safe.”

“Good, good.” The king nodded, resting for a moment. “The light of the moon?”

“Yeah. Would have been a real heart-breaking moment for a second until Bilbo spotted it when the sun went down and the moon came out. The rest of you all gave up, but he didn’t.” You told them, tucking the book away again. For a bit, you took a seat against the stone wall and drank some water, tired from the long hike.

“Are you alright? Is there anything you need?” Kili asked, kneeling in front of you.

“I’m just a little tired. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing well.” He settled in, sitting with you. “Those flowers look very beautiful in your hair like that.”

“You picked some lovely ones, what can I say?”

“Are they…adequate?” He wondered, his eyes sincere and unsure.

“They are perfect.” You assured him, taking both of his hands in yours. You so wished you could just do it here and now, just tell him everything and ask to braid that beautiful hair of his. But it was so close to the door opening. There were bigger things to deal with, more important matters at hand. “Kili…”

“Yes, Amrâlimê, what is it?” He searched your eyes.

“Can I sleep on your leg? I didn’t get very much sleep last night and things are about to get…difficult when that door is opened…”

“Oh. Yes, of course, come here.” He adjusted into a position that would be comfortable for you.

You laid down, using his thigh as a pillow, pulling your cloak around yourself as a blanket.

“Get some rest, Book Keeper.” Balin told you. “I have a feeling we’ll need you once we’re inside.”

You nodded and let yourself close your eyes. And when you did, you felt Kili’s careful fingers playing with your hair, gently lulling you to some well-needed sleep.

***

When you awoke, the sun was setting and the dwarves were watching carefully for the keyhole to open. Kili had not moved at all. His hand was still playing with your hair. You hummed and stretched, turning to look up at him. He smiled once he saw your face.

“You sleep well?”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded, sitting up. “Thank you.”

“Just in time.” Bilbo said.

The sun continued to dip beneath the hills, and soon, the moon emerged. Sure enough, there was the keyhole. You smiled. You were right. Of course you were, but it still felt good. However, you knew what else this night would bring.

“There it is…” Thorin murmured, holding up the key as the thrush knocked against the stone.

“We’ve done it. We finally made it.” Balin was clearly getting emotional, his voice betraying him.

Dwalin put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, nodding. The dwarves all stood at attention, watching anxiously as Thorin slipped the key into the hole and turned it. The door gave way, drifting open into the Lonely Mountain.

Kili’s breath stuttered and when you looked at him, his eyes were watering. You took his hand, giving it a supportive squeeze. You knew how long he’d been waiting for this moment. He’d grown up hearing tales of Erebor, their stolen homeland, and had longed to return.

Balin and Thorin lead the other dwarves inside tentatively, touching the stone walls and looking at the carvings upon them. Balin explained one of the carvings, one depicting the Throne of the Kings with the Arkenstone sitting in it, its rays of light shining out, representing the seven dwarven kingdoms.

“I cannot believe it.” Fili whispered, eyes watering as well.

The dwarves were careful to not make too much noise, but they all spent a lot of time embracing each other, celebrating silently before going back outside to wait for the Burglar to scope out the scene. Bilbo did, however, pull you aside to ask for some advice before heading down.

“Balin has requested I retrieve the Arkenstone if I find it…What advice do you have on the matter?”

“You’ll find it down there.” You knelt down to whisper in his ear, as to not be overheard. “Hold onto it. Keep it somewhere safe. You’ll need it for…the days to come. But don’t tell the others.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “Thank you.”

“When, um…when we hear the dragon start moving, we’ll come down to help. It’ll all work out.” You were confident on the matter, and that helped instill a bit of confidence in him as well. “Any other questions?”

“No, I don’t think so.” He shrugged. “Here goes nothing.”

“Master Burglar,” Kili approached suddenly, a tentative look on his face. “I have a request as well…”

“I’ll see you outside.” You told Kili before leaving the both of them there.

Fili was waiting outside with the others on the balcony where you were all waiting together. You hadn’t told them exactly what was coming, but they knew they’d need to be on alert.

“Did he tell you what he’s requesting from Bilbo?” You asked Fili.

“I’m sworn to secrecy, Book Keeper.” Fili chuckled. “He made me do a Pinkie Promise and everything.”

You laughed at that. “Well, I could never ask you to break a Pinkie Promise.”

A short while later, Kili came out to stand with the others. You looked at him, curious, but he didn’t tell you what he’d asked for, only brushed the hair out of the front of your face, warmth in his eyes.

“What now, Book Keeper?” asked Dwalin, his hands resting on his belt.

“Now we wait.” You told them. “Shouldn’t be long. Maybe an hour or so. And then we’ll need to go in there and save him.”

“Does he—”

“He knows.” You assured Dori, who looked concerned for your hobbit’s wellbeing. “I told him. We’ll go down there and drive the dragon out and then…he won’t be our problem anymore.”

“And just how do we do that?” Thorin asked.

You reached into your bag and opened the book, flipping to pretty close to the end of it. “In the book, he just kind of gets pissed off and leaves. I doubt it will be that simple, though.”

“Is it ever?” Ori whined, leaning back against the stone wall.

You spent the next hour listening for any tiny sound that would signify Smaug had awoken and was chasing Bilbo. Nothing yet. You decided that waiting was the worst part, especially when you had a faint idea of what would happen next.

“Something bad is going to happen, isn’t it?” Kili asked, his voice a mere whisper. “That’s what you’ve been so stressed about lately.”

“Everything with Smaug is…easy compared to what comes after.” You confessed. Until that moment, you thought you’d been hiding it well, but Kili saw right through the façade. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

“Mmm…” Kili nodded, taking your hand in his, admiring your fingers before bringing it to his lips. “I will not let anything happen to you. None of us will.”

You nodded, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him it was him you were worried about.

Soon enough, there was a loud rumbling from within the mountain. You all got to your feet and rushed inside, down the spiraling staircases to the massive treasure hoard of Thror. It was…even more massive than you could have possibly imagined. And at the center of it all, was Bilbo, scrambling to get away from the massive beast.

You gulped. There he was. Smaug the Terrible. Big, monstrous, and coming straight at all of you. Fire welled in the dragon’s throat and you all ducked behind a marble staircase.

“You dare challenge me, dwarves?! Over the inconsequential life of one little hobbit?!”

“You think yourself so terrible, Smaug?! You underestimate our strength!” Thorin bellowed. The group split up, distracting the dragon, going separate ways all with one goal: the forges.

Unsure of where you were going, you, Kili, and Fili followed quickly after Thorin, down, down, down the massive fortress into its depths. Erebor was impossibly large, and, seeing it for the first time, you doubted you’d ever learn your way around it.

Smaug’s fiery breath nearly scathed you a few times. Its heat was close and scorching, giving you an even better motivator to keep moving. Eventually, the group all made it down to the forges. You counted the heads as quickly as you could, and when you did, you sighed in relief. This didn’t last long, however, as Smaug quickly rose from the stairwell, peeking through the massive gate that barred him from entering the forge.

The dwarves took cover behind massive metal beams, as did you, however, Smaug didn’t breathe fire, as you’d expected him to. Instead, you heard him land on the other side of the gate, an intrigued growl forming in his throat. You heard a loud clang and then felt his sharp claws cut through your pants as he scratched you, reaching carefully between the large metal bars.

You let out a yelp and collapsed to the floor, using your arms to scurry back, out of his range. It seemed you were bleeding, but it didn’t look like it was too deep.

“You.” He hissed, his eye staring at you, helpless on the ground. “You do not belong here.”

“M-Me?” You asked, staring up at him. The dwarves moved uncertainly, some of their eyes on you, some of their eyes on the beast.

“Yes, you. Mortal girl with the ears of an elfling.” His eyes narrowed and then he snarled, “Book Keeper. You reek of the Mortal Realm.”

Your eyes widened and your heart began pounding even harder in your chest. “I—”

“It’s endearing, really. That you think your existence here matters.” He shook his head. “That you could save them from me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. That was not the way the story went. It never had been. Although maybe Smaug’s dragon-sized ego had caused him to overlook that part.

“Leave her!” Kili shouted, rushing in front of you and leaving the safety of his post.

“Kili, don’t—!” But that didn’t stop him from pulling you off of the floor, supporting your weight with an arm around your waist, a weapon in his other hand, pointed at the dragon.

Kili’s expression darkened, fire in his eyes. “Harm her again and it’ll be the last thing you ever do. I swear it.”

Smaug laughed. “The dwarf cares for you? Despite the fact that you have no right to exist here? Hilarious. And pathetic.”

“She has every right!” Fili joined his brother and your heart raced even faster as every other dwarf and Bilbo stood in front of you, ready to defend you from the massive dragon beyond the gate.

“You know how this story ends, don’t you?” Smaug asked, his voice arrogant. He took a few heavy steps further. “You cannot win. There is no happily ever after. Not for you and certainly not for them.” You could see the fire welling in his chest, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, the fire exploded from his mouth.

It was too late. You nor the dwarves had time to take cover. It would all be for nothing. The journey, your friendship, all of your moments with them…burned to ash.

In that same moment, your hand shot forward, and as if by magic, the flames dispersed as though hitting an impenetrable bubble, a halo protecting you, Bilbo, and the dwarves.

A tear streaming down your cheek, you stood there, hand extended, protecting them with whatever magic this was, whatever power had been hidden inside you all along. Your gaze hardened and though you couldn’t see it, your eyes shined gold like the endless treasures inside the mountain. “I’m writing my own ending, slug.”

Smaug’s fire fizzled and he gasped as though it was being stolen from him, pulled straight from his mouth. He coughed. His chest lit orange, like he was preparing to breathe more fire, but the light inside of him flickered before going out completely. His eyes narrowed at you. “What have you done?!”

“Not sure. Want to find out what else I can do?”

Snorting angrily, Smaug turned around. You heard the breaking of stone and then nothing.

Your knees wobbled, a wave of exhaustion washing over you as you lowered your hand. The dwarves all murmured in amazement and confusion as the dragon fled. You collapsed, but Kili caught you on the way down, his strong arms softening the blow of your knees on the cold marble floors.

“How…how did you…?” Bilbo mumbled, confused.

“I don’t know.” You told him. “I…I don’t have any magic.”

“Well, that certainly looked like magic to me, lass.” Balin said, impressed with your work.

Dwalin smiled, proud. “I knew you had it in you.”

“Let’s make sure he’s left before getting too comfortable.” Thorin insisted.

“Good plan.” You told him, trying to stand, but finding your strength depleted.

Thorin shook his head. “Book Keeper, stay here. You’ve done enough for us for one night. Oin, gather supplies to treat her wound. Kili, you stay with her until she’s fit to move again.”

“I will.” Kili nodded, watching as the others left.

You exhaled a shaking breath, collapsing into his arms. Kili knelt there with you for a long moment, your breathing heavy, shoulders shaking. He held you, careful but firm, his touches deliberate and comforting.

After a while, you pulled away to look up at him, ash smeared on his face and pure starlight in his eyes.

“Kili…” Your eyes watered, voice wobbling. “You…”

“It’s alright.” He brushed the tear from your cheek. “We’re alright, look at me.”

You choked out a sob, staring at him for a long moment before finally, finally…

One of your hands rose to his cheek, tilting his face up to yours. You looked into his eyes for a moment and then leaned in, pressing your lips to his. He reciprocated immediately, like he’d been kissing you for centuries, his lips exploring yours, passionate and soft. Your heart pounded as your noses clashed, your hand wandering back into his hair and his strong arms tugging your body closer to his, chests flush with one another. The feeling of his scruff against your skin was everything you’d imagined it’d be that drunken night in the tavern.

After several minutes, you finally pulled apart, resting your forehead against his, your breathing heavy.

“It means ‘My Love.’” He told you, stopping to take a long, shaking breath. “Amrâlimê. It means ‘My Love.’ And I call you that because…you are my One. I’ve known since that night in the Shire when I turned the corner and saw you standing there.”

“Kili…” Your voice was soft. “The whole time?”

“I didn’t want to…scare you off.” He chuckled at the ridiculous notion. “I know humans don’t have Ones, even here. But that is no excuse. I should have told you so long ago. My brother has made that known at every opportunity.”

You slipped your bag off of your shoulder and onto the floor, reaching into it for a very special pouch. “I didn’t lose my ring.”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

You tilted the pouch’s contents into your palm and held up the courting bead you had created from it instead. “I…”

“Is this a courting bead?” He asked, disbelief heavy in his tone and tears welling in his eyes. “You…you made this? You’d give up your ring…?”

“For you.” You set it in his palm and cupped his face in both of your hands. “I love you, Kili. I love you so much, and…if you’d let me, I’d like to braid your hair, court you the proper dwarf way.”

He let out a sob, throwing his arms around you and holding you tight. “I…I thought you’d never ask.” He pulled away to press another passionate kiss to your lips. “B-but my bead isn’t finished yet. I…I asked Bilbo to find an emerald for me, the finishing touch.” He touched his nose to yours, smiling softly. “They’ll match.”

“I can wait as long as you need me to.” You assured him, kissing him again, and then one more time for good measure. “I would wait a century for you, Kili.”

“I can’t believe this is happening…” He smiled into another kiss. “We must tell the others. Can you walk?”

“I think so.” You nodded, the two of you getting to your feet.

You were a little wobbly, but Kili took one of your arms around his shoulder, supporting you every step of the way. Sure, your leg hurt a bit, but you could hardly think about it after everything that had just transpired.

Eventually, you both came upon the other dwarves, who had started clearing out the commons. Some of them, Balin and Bilbo and Thorin, were out on a balcony, watching Smaug as he flew off towards Laketown. Oin had set up a makeshift infirmary in the corner of the room, and as soon as Fili saw you and his brother enter, he rushed over, taking your other arm and helping you to the cot.

“Does it hurt?” Kili asked as they set you down and Oin started examining the mark.

“A little.” You winced as the older dwarf poked at it.

“It’s not too deep and the bleeding has already stopped.” Oin noted. “It will probably hurt for a few days, but it should heal up just fine, lass.”

“Thank you, Oin.”

“I’ll apply a salve and get you wrapped up.”

Oin rummaged through his supplies while Bilbo rushed into the room, an excited expression on his face. “They shot Smaug down! The people of Laketown, they shot him down before he even reached the edge of town!”

The dwarves burst into joyful celebration, but you sat there in shock. Huh. Maybe warning Bard had some unforeseen consequences…

“Oh shit.” Your eyes widened. “He didn’t…burn the town down?” As Oin tended to your wound you reached for the book, desperately flipping to the end.

“He…he didn’t have any fire.” Bilbo said, his voice quiet.

“That…might be a problem.” You told him, taking your lip between your teeth. “Or not…? I really…wow, I didn’t see that coming.”

Before anyone could say anything else, Thorin and Balin returned to the fold, accompanied by none other than Gandalf the Gray. The relief was palpable as soon as you saw him. Good. At least now you’d have him to talk to.

When he spotted you amongst the dwarves, a mischievous twinkle gleamed in his wise old eyes. “Ah, the Book Keeper. Making a splash, I see.”

“Yeah, it seems like it.”

“There is much we must discuss.” Gandalf said. “Oin, are you done with her?”

“Aye.” Oin nodded. You stood and followed Gandalf further into the depths of Erebor, out of earshot of the other dwarves. As you were walking away, you spotted Kili in the corner of your eye as Bilbo handed him what appeared to be the aforementioned emerald.

“So, where do we even begin…?” Gandalf murmured, lighting his pipe as he settled into the chair at the end of the table that appeared to have been the grand dining room a long time ago. There was quite a bit of dust. “I suppose we’ll start with something light; How’s Kili?”

You laughed. “Kili is good. No poisoned arrow to the leg, no near-death in Laketown…and um, we’re actually…well, we’ll be courting soon.”

“Dwarvish courting rituals?” Gandalf raised his eyebrows. “I must say, I’m impressed. Show me the bead.”

You pulled it out of its pouch and handed it to the wizard, who smiled a knowing smile once he examined it.

“I thought that claddagh ring might come in handy, although I must admit, not for this exact purpose.” He noted, smug. “Congratulations! Well, onto the…other matters at hand…Laketown seems to be rather in-tact, does it not?”

“Yeah, that, um…just happened. Smaug got me in the leg, one thing came to another, and he breathed fire at us, but I…stopped it? I think. With a…well, with like a force-field. A bubble around me and the others.”

“Oh…very interesting indeed…” Gandalf thought on this for a moment, inhaling from his pipe before letting the smoke tumble from his lips. “That is something I did not foresee.”

“I think it…weakened Smaug. It was like I stole his fire.” Your voice came out soft and uncertain. “That’s probably why…”

“Very possible.” He nodded. “Well, I suspect that soon, the Master and the rest of the town will be here, demanding their pay.”

“You don’t think that’ll change?”

“I doubt it. And Thranduil and his forces are on their way as well. It seems the Battle of Five Armies is still coming.”

You were quiet for a long time. “Um…Gandalf…”

His voice softened when he saw the look on your face. “Yes, my dear, what’s wrong?”

“I can save him, right? That’s why I’m here? To save them?” You asked, your voice catching.

Gandalf reached across the table, letting his hand settle on top of yours. “I picked you for a reason, (Y/N). I would not have chosen you if I didn’t believe it could be done. And now that you are here…you are not alone. I think you know that.”

You nodded. You blinked and a tear slipped down your cheek.

“You know what they say, my dear, love is unpredictable. It seems you’ve recently learned just how powerful it can be.”

“Thank you.”

He gently wiped the tear from your cheek. “Don’t thank me yet. Celebrate with the dwarves. Celebrate with your beloved. You’ve earned it. I’ll be seeing you soon.”

***

Gandalf spoke with the rest of the company briefly before leaving, you assumed, to see where the elves were setting up camp, if they really were that far in their journey. You hoped you’d at least get a few days of peace before the war broke out. You needed it.

Bombur cooked up one hell of a dinner and Dori had gone digging through the wine cellars to find something extra special for the company to celebrate with. Oin had changed your bandages once, but when he did, he noticed that your wound had already mostly closed up. You were going to be just fine. Well, physically anyway.

You’d changed into the dress you’d gotten in Laketown, the green one embroidered with purple wildflowers, not unlike the ones Kili had given you.

“You look lovely.” Fili complimented. “Is that the one from the market?”

“It is.” You smiled and did a little spin. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

“Take a look for yourself.” Fili motioned tilted his head towards his brother on the other side of the room, staring at you with stars in his eyes. Fili’s hand touched your shoulder before he walked off with Bofur and Dwalin to get everything ready for the feast.

Kili walked to you, staring up at you in awe. He gently touched the fabric of your dress. “Is this new? I’ve never seen you wear this before.”

“I got it in Laketown.” You confirmed. “Do you like it?”

“Oh, Amrâlimê, I love it.” He brushed the loose hairs out of your face, and pulled yours down to his, kissing you gently. “Emerald green happens to be my favorite color.”

“It does?”

“Well, it’s my second favorite color.” He admitted, his voice soft. “My first favorite is the color of your eyes.”

Your heart welled with warmth and your lips crashed against his once more, his kiss stealing the air from your lungs until you were interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. So, laughing, the two of you joined the others for the celebration.

You all settled in the dining hall Gandalf had taken you to. Some of the dwarves had cleaned up a bit, dusting areas where you’d be eating. Balin got some of the torches going to bring light to the place. It was so big. The ceilings were impossibly high, the walls carved into green marble. It was a place that had been expertly crafted by the most talented architects around, you were sure of it. There was care and skill put into every detail.

“Would you like some wine, Book Keeper?” Dori asked, a bottle in his hand.

“Just a little this time. I think we all remember what effect alcohol has on me.”

The others laughed softly. You were in the seat beside Kili’s and he kept resting his hand on your thigh beneath the table, the warmth of his hand causing similar warmth to pool in your stomach.

“You two look rather glowing this evening.” Fili smirked. “Any news you’d like to share with the rest of us?”

“Ah, yes.” Kili cleared his throat and the chattering dwarves all sat at attention. “Uncle, if I may…”

“Please do.” Thorin nodded his head, expectant.

“Our beautiful Book Keeper has presented me with a courting bead.” Kili said, his hand slipping into yours. “And I have obviously accepted her proposal because…she is my One. We’ll begin our courtship after tonight’s feast.”

The company burst into cheers and applause that echoed off of the walls of the dining hall.

Thorin reached to his nephew, putting a hand atop Kili’s. “Congratulations, nephew.” He looked to you. “And congratulations, (Y/N).”

“Thank you, your highness.” You nodded your head.

“No, no more titles.” Thorin shook his head. “You are one of us now. You can refer to me as Thorin, if you wish.”

You knew in your heart that he was right. This was your family. These were your people. And now, more than ever, you were honored to be surrounded by them.

“Tomorrow, we’ll have a meeting discussing further steps and the things to come, but tonight, we have much to celebrate.” Thorin announced.

The feast that followed was perhaps the best celebration you’d experienced with them thus far. Some of the dwarves got very intoxicated, including Ori, who was laying on the floor in front of the fireplace, mumbling something about cheese. Fili and Kili had a few drinks together, but Kili had stopped drinking before the others to prepare for what was to come.

Fili, Gloin, and Dori left for a while at some point and when they returned, Fili whispered something to his brother who laughed and thanked him. After a while, everything seemed to calm down. Some of the dwarves wandered the halls to find a place to sleep, and Kili took that as his opportunity to escort you to the bedrooms.

In a place the size of Erebor, there were countless bedrooms, but Kili led you down the halls to what you felt was a very sacred place, lit with torches. And along the floor, there was a trail of wildflower petals, not unlike the kind Kili had given you, leading into one of said bedrooms.

“These are the rooms set aside for the royal family.” Kili explained, kissing your hand. “The one at the end of the hall is for the king. The one next door is the one set aside for Fili because he is the heir, and this one has been prepared for us.” He pushed open the door, and led you inside, closing the door behind you.

The flower petals trailed to the edge of the king-sized bed, which had been dusted and dressed with fresh bedding. The entire room was clean. There was a pair of large closets carved into the wall, a large window with a bench seat beneath it, a large desk and a giant bookshelf. The torches were lit, casting the room in warm firelight, although you could imagine just how stunning it would be once the sun came up and started streaming through the windows.

On the desk, there was a vase filled of the wildflowers Kili had picked for you, their colors still as beautiful and vivid as when he’d first presented them to you.

“Do you like it?” He asked, searching your eyes.

“It’s perfect, Kili.” You reassured him, squeezing his hand. You reached into your bag and pulled out the pouch containing the courting bead. “How do we do this?”

He grinned, cheeky. “What, the other’s didn’t tell you the specifics?”

You smirked. “Let’s just say I’m a hands-on learner.”

Kili pulled you in for a kiss, his lips a little firmer now than they had been during your previous kisses, a hand wandering into your hair. While your lips were on his, he tugged you to the bed by your hips and the two of you sat on its edge side by side. He lingered for a long moment before pulling away to reach into his pocket.

Very carefully, he presented his courting bead. It was a little thinner than the one you’d made for him, a more intricate band with a swirling silver design, some leaves carved into the precious metal. In the center of it, was a beautiful glimmering emerald cut into an oval. You gasped when you saw it. Kili had obviously been working on this for quite some time.

You immediately teared up. “Oh my god, it’s beautiful.”

He grinned. “I’m glad you think so.” Kili rested his forehead against yours, his lips mere inches away. “I’m sorry it took me so long, Amrâlimê. I’m sorry all of this has taken so long. If I could do it all over again, I’d have told you the way I felt that first night in the Shire. I have wasted so much time unable to kiss you. And oh, how I have wanted to kiss you.”

You kissed him, your movements long and slow. You felt him smile against you before you mumbled, “That makes two of us.”

“Until recently, I didn’t know that the men of your kind were supposed to initiate courting—sorry, dating." He admitted. “Fili um…”

“I know. He told me.” You chuckled.

Kili laughed sheepishly. “Oh.”

“There’s no real hard and fast rule, but generally speaking, it usually is the men that make the first move.” You told him, a thumb rubbing his cheek. “I don’t mind waiting, though. I’m pretty patient. And the flowers you picked for me are very beautiful.”

“So it starts with flowers. What comes after?”

“It doesn’t always start with flowers, but they are definitely a good way to tell someone you’re interested. After that, they usually ask you on a date. They’ll take you somewhere, a restaurant or a theater or somewhere more creative than that. They might hold your hand or kiss you. If the date goes well, you usually plan another one.”

He smiled, his eyes exploring yours. “That sounds fun.”

“It is sometimes.”

“And then what?”

“And then, after a handful of dates, they ask you to be their partner, their boyfriend or girlfriend. And you keep going on dates and getting to know eachother. Sometimes you move in together, sometimes you wait. And after a long while, they propose.”

“Propose…?”

“Right. Um, they propose a marriage engagement. A betrothal, I guess you would call it.”

“Ah.” He smiled, nodding as he took in the information. “Well, I will need more details on how to properly do that when the time comes.” Kili took your hands. “But for now, I’m going to teach you how to do courtship braids.”

Kili fetched a brush from the desk and returned to you, gently brushing the tangles out of your hair. “Now, the courtship braids are typically done to mirror one another, so that when we’re standing side by side, they’ll be next to each other.” He told you, pressing a kiss to your cheek and then your neck.

You flushed at his warmth, at the softness of his lips against your tender skin. “That’s romantic.”

“It is.” He agreed. “Which side would you like yours on?”

“The right.”

Kili began to very expertly braid the hair on the right side of your head. It was something similar to the French braids you’d done as a girl, although it didn’t incorporate all of your hair. It sat in the middle of the hair on the right side of your head, some hair in front of and behind it. Once he reached the ends of your hair, he secured it with the courting bead he had spent so long crafting.

And then, you did the same to him, on the left side of his head. He talked you through the process with encouragement and soft laughter, and at the end, you decided it looked pretty good. Kili helped you secure it in a way that would ensure it wouldn’t come out. The bead looked good against his dark hair, contrasting well.

Once it was in place, Kili cupped your face in his warm, calloused hands, touching his nose to yours. He exhaled a long breath.

“I love you, (Y/N).” He said the words slowly, significantly. They sat heavy on his tongue. He gazed into your eyes. “I want to build a life with you and now that we’re here…it finally feels real.”

“I know what you mean,” you whispered. “I can’t imagine a life without you in it.”

You knew then that the two of you were sitting in the eye of the storm, that in a few days or maybe longer, there would be elves and men and orcs at the front gates of Erebor, ready for battle. You didn’t know what the future held, not for certain. But you knew as long as you lived, you would always love Kili, whether or not you got to spend that time by his side.

You had loved Kili since he was mere paper and ink to you, you loved him now that he was flesh and blood and warmth, and you would love him forever, even if he was just a distant memory.

And so, you kissed him with a little more passion that night, held him a little tighter in your arms, relished in the feeling of his skin against yours, his hair between your fingers, and his lips slotted to your own. You loved him like it was your last night together, and for all you knew, it was.

***

The next morning, sun streamed through the window, casting the room in color and light. By the time you opened your eyes, Kili was still asleep on the pillow beside you, deep snores rumbling from his lips and one of his thick arms around your waist. His courting bead glistened in his braid, the only one adorning his soft hair.

You admired him for a long, quiet moment. He looked so peaceful. Your handsome prince. You pondered it for a bit, what your wedding might look like. What your life together would look like after. The details were fuzzy and uncertain, but your heart ached to know, to get that chance when all the dust had settled.

His face did look rather human, you supposed, taking his face into consideration now that you finally had a good, long, intimate look at it. The others in the company, aside from maybe Thorin and Fili, all had a very different look about them, something more distinctly dwarvish that you couldn’t put a finger on. Perhaps it was their noses. But Kili…if he were a little taller, he’d fit seamlessly into your own realm, you were sure.

You laughed internally at the thought. You weren’t sure what Kili would think of your realm, in all honesty. It was quite different than the one you had spent the last several months in, that was for sure.

Kili stirred, blinking a few times before his eyes truly settled on you, bathed in sunlight on the pillow in front of him. He smiled.

“Good morning.” He whispered, his voice impossibly deep with sleep. He reached up to brush the stray hairs out of your face. “You know, I had quite the dream last night.”

“Whatever might it have been about?”

“It had something to do with…you and I…” He murmured, scooching closer, his arms pulling you so close to him that you now shared just one pillow, mere inches between your faces. His leg slotted between your legs and his lips did not hesitate to begin exploring your own.

You smiled against him, a hand wandering into his hair to keep his face close to yours while the other found itself curled against his hairy chest. He deepened the kiss, drawing a hum from the depths of your throat.

He stopped to look at you.

“You know, I think I had the same dream.” You told him, eyes scanning every detail of his face, committing it all to memory. You wanted to remember this, how you felt in this exact moment, the honeymoon-like bliss of this first morning.

“Really…” He murmured in mock shock. “How strange.”

“Very.” You giggled a bit before finally confessing, “Kili, is now a bad time to tell you I’ve had a crush on you since I was twelve?”

His face lit up, that youthful smile you’d fallen in love with quick to overtake his features. “I knew it!” He laughed triumphantly. “I knew there was something in your eyes that night. That’s why you recognized me before you recognized the others.”

You smiled, coy. “Perhaps.”

He stole another long kiss.

“Don’t let it go to your head.” You smirked.

He grinned, mischievous. “Pshh, me? Never. But I don’t think it’ll come as a shock to the others that I’ve been your favorite dwarf since the very beginning. You’re not very good at hiding it, you know.”

“Really. Good to know; I’ll have to make more of an effort, then.”

He touched the tip of his nose to yours. “Well…I wouldn’t worry about hiding it too much. I think they can handle the news. They’ll just have to accept the fact that I’ve won the race to your heart.”

“There wasn’t anyone else in the running. It’s only ever been you.”

Kili smirked, kissing you one last time before saying, “I know.”

The two of you got dressed for the day and walked down to breakfast together, hand in hand. Bilbo perked up at the sight of you, smiling warmly when he saw your matching braids tied with matching beads.

“Good morning, lovebirds.”

“Morning, Bilbo.”

“Sleep well?” The hobbit asked innocently, sipping a cup of tea.

Gloin chuckled and muttered, “I’m not sure they did much sleeping, lad,” which caused said hobbit to promptly choke on said tea.

You laughed and sat down in the spot you’d been sitting the night previous, beside Kili, who got you each a serving of food. By now, he knew all of your favorites by heart. He set the plate in front of you and punctuated it with a long kiss on your cheek. Now this you could get used to.

It was so nice to have everything out in the open, not that it had been that much of a secret before. Now there was just one last challenge to conquer, that of your lover’s impending doom.

The rest of the dwarves trickled in slowly, grabbing some breakfast before taking a seat at the long table. Thorin was the last of them and he looked absolutely exhausted. There were dark bags beneath his eyes, a slowness to his step. He sat at the end of the table all at once. It could have been the new environment causing this, you reasoned. An unfamiliar bed, an unfamiliar peace and quiet that he hadn’t been accustomed to on the road. There was, however, a little voice in the back of your head that warned of what would happen to Thorin because of all of the gold in that seemingly endless treasure room.

You’d forgotten about it until now, and you deeply hoped you were wrong.

Your concerns subsided a bit when he noticed the beads in yours and Kili’s hair and smiled, proud of his nephew. Thorin was still in there. He could be reasoned with, you were sure. Although, you weren’t sure how long that would last.

Once he got some food, he started the meeting.

“So, Book Keeper, Smaug is dead. What comes next?”

You were quiet for a moment, figuring how best to word it. “So…they call it the Battle of Five Armies.”

“Battle…?” some of the dwarves murmured.

“The five armies being the dwarves, the men of Laketown, the elves of Mirkwood, and two groups of orcs, or, in some interpretations, the orcs and their wargs. It’s…well, it’s not good. First, the men and the elves will come. The men will want compensation for slaying Smaug, and also the gold they were promised while we were in town. The elves come because…well, because Thranduil wants pretty elvish gems or something…”

Thorin nodded. “The white gems. I am familiar.”

“Right. And the orcs come because…they’re orcs. I don’t really know their motivation other than the fact that they crave violence. When the orcs arrive, the elves and men aid us in the battle, but there are…casualties.” You said the word carefully, trying to hide how much it hurt. You knew Kili noticed, though. Sometimes, you swore he felt your emotions.

“Are there more dwarves than just us, lass?” Dwalin spoke up, leaning against the table as he weight the information you were presenting.

“Yes. I believe you call for your cousin, Dain and his forces. They arrive and they do fight alongside everyone else.”

“I’ll send for him today, then.”

You nodded. “That would probably be a good idea, yeah. Um, Gandalf said he was going to check on the status of things, to see where the elves were, I think.”

Thorin was quiet for a moment before asking the one question you were fearing. “And what of the Arkenstone? Is it here?”

“It is here. Somewhere. I’m not sure exactly where though. The book tends to skim over details like that sometimes.” It wasn’t technically a lie. You didn’t know where it was, although you did have a pretty good estimate…

Thorin nodded, his face serious. He thought for a long moment. “We’ll need to get the forges going as soon as possible, ready armor and weapons for battle. The bedrooms and kitchens will need to be prepared. We are about to have several guests…”

The king beneath the mountain designated roles to the party to prepare the place for war. Balin stayed at the table to ask you further questions.

“So what are we to do when they arrive at the gates, lass?” He quieted his voice despite the fact that the king had gone down to the treasure room with his nephews to look for the Arkenstone. “Would Thorin not have honored his promise?”

“He, um…” You shook your head. “Things are going to get weird around here. He succumbs to dragon sickness; it clouds his judgement. He breaks his promise to the men and hesitates to join the fight at all, despite the fact that his people are out there fighting the attacking orcs. I’m hoping we can steer him otherwise this time around, but…it might be difficult to break through to him.”

“If anyone can, I’m sure it’s us.” Balin nodded. His face fell, though, before he asked the next question on his mind. “And these…casualties?”

You were quiet for a long, long moment. You opened your mouth to speak, but instead, you burst into tears.

“Oh, lass…” Balin stepped closer, putting an arm around you to comfort you.

You flipped to the page in the book and handed it to Balin, marking the second time ever someone other than you had gotten a glimpse inside of it, and at that same section, too. Balin read it silently and nodded, solemn.

“I feared as much.”

“It’s…that’s the reason I’m here at all.” You finally admitted, wiping the tears from your cheeks. Balin offered you a handkerchief. “When Gandalf came to me…that was my end of the deal, the promise that I could…change things. Save him. Save all of them.” You took a shaking breath. “It’s not written in that part, but…Thorin doesn’t make it either…”

“Mmm…” Balin hummed, his voice low. “Does anyone else know?”

“Bilbo does.” You confessed. “He, um…found me crying about it in Laketown the night before we left. But that’s it. Just you two. And Gandalf, obviously.”

“I wouldn’t tell the lads.” He advised, his voice trembling the smallest bit. “I think it would make them nervous. Could make it worse.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, but…Kili knows there’s something going on. I don’t know if I’ll be able to hide it from him.”

“He loves you.” Balin nodded. “And I know you love him, too. And I know how much it must have hurt you to carry it this long. But I will not let that happen to either of them and I know you will not either. We saw what happened with the dragon…maybe there’s a way to bring that power in you out again.”

You nodded, considering it. “That’s actually a really good idea.”

Balin rested his hand atop yours. “We’ll figure it out, lass.”

***

Later that day, the dwarves congregated on the training grounds to brush up on battle skills. Kili had spent most of the afternoon readying the archery range while the others sharpened weapons and reinforced shields. Thorin was the only one not present. He was still searching the treasure room for that damn Arkenstone.

Balin had informed the others of the plan, to awaken that magic inside of you again, so they were all brainstorming methods of doing so.

“Maybe it has to do with the fire.” Nori suggested. “The fire of the dragon oncoming.”

“Perhaps…” Balin nodded.

“Worth a try.” You agreed.

“Here goes.” Gloin shrugged, preparing a flaming torch.

Kili’s eyes widened, stepping between you and the flame. “Now wait just a second, are we sure this is the best way to figure it out?”

“The lad is right.” Oin nodded. “There was real danger involved with the dragon. Perhaps it’s the intensity of the battle that sets her off.”

“No!” Kili protested. “Does anyone have any ideas that do not involve hurting my beloved?”

The others laughed, thinking for a moment.

Dwalin had a mischievous look on his face. “I have a theory.” Then, out of nowhere, he threw a dagger at Kili.

Without even thinking, your hand shot out in front of you and before the dagger made contact with Kili, it bounced away, defying the laws of physics as though it had hit a bubble, clattering to the ground moments later.

Everyone stood there in shock, staring at you and Kili and your outstretched hand.

“Oh.” You said softly, lowering your arm and staring at your palm.

“The lass wasn’t the only one in danger that day, remember.” Dwalin crossed his arms, smirking proudly. “She’s a protector, whether she’s realized it or not.”

“She’s been protecting us with her knowledge all this time.” Balin agreed with his brother and took your hand. “And now, you’ve found a magic of your own.”

“And I intend to use it.” You told the rest of them. “I came all this way. We all did. I’m…I’m not going to let anything happen to any of you. This battle is the reason I’m here; the rest of it was just the icing on the cake.”

“We trust you.” Fili said, meeting your eyes. “We all do.”

Your heart ached. It was still scary, thinking of the oncoming battle and everything it could cost if you didn’t succeed. But this power inside of you, this love you held for the company, you knew it wouldn’t let you down. You knew you wouldn’t let them down.

You couldn’t.

***

That night, you didn’t get very much sleep. It started with a nightmare. Your subconscious had chosen this exact moment to remind you that you had watched the extended edition of the Battle of Five Armies once. Seeing Kili lifeless and pale, laying on that stone slab, lit by gentle flickering lights…You’d all but forgotten what their funeral had looked like. You wish you’d never remembered.

You woke with a start, sitting straight up and breathing heavy, trying to clear the image from your mind. There would be no funeral. It was fine. Everything was fine. Except, that didn’t seem to stop the tears from flowing.

Kili was still sleeping. You didn’t want to wake him; he’d need his rest for the days to come. So, you slipped out of the bed as quietly as you could and walked through the halls to the kitchens. Dori had been kind enough to organize all of the tea and polish some of the teapots. You put on a kettle and waited for the water to boil.

You heard footsteps coming down the hall and wiped at your tears, partially expecting it to be Kili. You were surprised, however, when it was Bofur that came through the doorway.

“I knew I heard someone in here. Thought you might be my brother.” He chuckled. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nightmare.” You told him, shrugging when the kettle started to scream. You pulled it off of the hot burner and switched off the heat, pouring yourself a cup of hot water and beginning to steep some Chamomile in it.

“Ah…Sorry to hear that, lass.” He nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I kind of…can’t. It’s about the days to come…” You sighed. “Specifically about the worst possible outcome.”

“I see.” Bofur hummed. “Well, if it is what I think it is…I don’t foresee it happening. You’ve kept us out of trouble. This too will pass.”

You nodded, sniffling. “I’m just scared. I know I can do it, especially after training today, but…if I fail…”

“Right.” He nodded. “I had nightmares before we left home, you know. Us dwarves…we all pretend to be so fearless, but I was very afraid we wouldn’t make it here. That it would all be for nothing. I know you fear…losing him. But I think he fears losing you too, lass. Sometimes, fear is all that’s keeping us alive.”

You were quiet for a long moment, letting it sink in. Bofur was right. “You’re wiser than the others give you credit for, you know.”

He laughed. “Yeah, well…you pick up some things in your travels.”

You sipped your warm tea.

“The courting braid suits you.” He noted. “Do you mind if I take a closer look at the bead Kili made?”

“I don’t mind.” You lifted the braid from your shoulder and presented it to him so he could see.

Bofur’s eyes scanned the bead and he smiled. “I saw him working on it on the boat to Laketown. I don’t think he knew then that you had plans of making one at all.” He chuckled. “I could tell he was getting desperate to tell you how he felt.”

“Oh yeah. He had Fili ask me for human courting rituals.”

“Now that, I did not know.” Bofur laughed. “Hence the wildflowers, I presume.”

“Yeah, exactly.” You giggled, taking another sip of tea.

Another set of footsteps trekked down the hallway, this time coming from the direction of the royal chambers. Sure enough, it was Kili. He looked relieved when he found you.

“There you are, Amrâlimê.” He walked into the kitchen. “Are you alright? Why did you leave?”

“I had a nightmare.” You confessed. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Have you been crying?” He noticed your tearstained cheeks as he got closer, his warm fingers slotting into their place along your jaw.

“A bit.” You nodded.

“Come back to bed.” He whispered, kissing your nose. His other hand slipped into yours and squeezed.

“Okay.” A tear slipped down your cheek and he was quick to wipe it away, leading you back down the halls to your shared room after the two of you bid a final goodnight to Bofur.

Kili closed the door behind you and walked to the bed, pulling the covers open for you. You settled back onto the comfortable mattress, laying on your side.

“Now, what is it that has you so worked up, my love?” He whispered, an arm settling around your waist. “You’ve been crying a lot lately, haven’t you?”

You responded with more tears, crawling into his arms and burying your face in his shoulder. He held you tight, doing his best to comfort you with his touch.

“Oh, hey, hey, it’s alright. We’re alright.” He said, his voice soft and sincere. “You don’t have to tell me if it hurts too much. Is it nightmares about spiders?”

“No…” You shook your head, your voice muffled by the fabric of his sleep shirt.

“Goblins? Smaug?”

“No.”

“Mmm, so something very scary, then?”

You took a shaking breath. “The scariest thing I can imagine.”

“Hmmm…” He hummed thoughtfully, his hand gently stroking your hair. “Do you want to know what the scariest moment of this trip has been for me?”

“What?”

“When that goblin king hoisted you into the air by the ends of your hair, dangling you above the rest of us, threatening to torture you right in front of me mere hours after I’d finally gotten to hold you in my arms for the first time.” He shook his head. “And the second was when that accursed dragon hurt you and started threatening you. My worst nightmare…is losing you.”

You took a shaking breath, pulling away so you could look into his eyes, bathed in the moonlight streaming through the window.

“I put the pieces together a while ago.” His voice shook. “I know…I’m not meant to survive the battle. In the story you read growing up, anyways.”

A tear rolled from your eye and your breath caught in your throat. “Kili…”

“I thought it might be the dragon that got me. I didn’t know there would be…more danger after.” His thumb expertly swiped your tear away. “And I don’t blame you for not telling me. But I’m not scared. Not of that.”

“Why?”

“It’s like you told Smaug. My ending is getting a rewrite, and I trust you with the pen.” He touched his nose to yours. “The way I see it, I know for certain I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you, whether I have two more days or two more centuries.”

You kissed him, your lips salty with tears, and his moving gently against yours. “I love you.” You sobbed.

“I know you do.” He kissed you again before rolling over and pulling you on top of him. His lips gently pecked the top of your head and he held you tight as you cried against him. “I love you too.”

***

The next day was the day Dain’s forces arrived. Thorin and the others escorted the new dwarves into Erebor and they began preparing for war, forging weapons, adjusting armor, training battle skills. Sometime in the early afternoon, Thranduil, Bard, and their armies arrived at the front gate.

You sat nearby, hidden within the walls, listening as Thorin and the dwarves heatedly debated with them. Thorin refused to give up his treasures, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the dragon sickness or if he knew they’d need their help when the orcs arrived the following day.

“Dwarves, I know you are hiding your precious little Book Keeper within those walls.” Thranduil’s arrogant voice echoed from the back of his reindeer to your very ears.

Your eyes went wide, heart racing as you listened.

“Bring her to me for a…discussion, or we begin our attack immediately.”

“Thranduil, this is madness.” You heard Bard rebuttle.

“Madness or not, I would like a glimpse into the future as well. I believe it’s only fair.”

“You’ll not have a single word with her!” Thorin shouted.

“Thorin…” Balin reasoned. “Let’s think about this.”

“What is there to think about?” Kili joined the conversation. “She is my beloved, not a bargaining piece.”

You stood up and walked to the dwarves. “I’ll go.”

Kili turned around and shook his head. “No. Amrâlimê, who knows what he wants with you? There has to be another way.”

“Maybe I can reason with them, get them all on the same page about the battle.” You tilted your head and reached into your bag, pulling out the book and handing it to Kili. His eyes widened. He’d never touched it before, let alone been entrusted with its wellbeing. “Look after this until I get back, okay?”

Kili took the book and nodded, his eyes serious. You leaned forward and pressed a long kiss to his lips before walking through the front gates. And while you were distracting the rest of the party, Bilbo was able to slip away unnoticed as well.

Thranduil looked over you with curious eyes. They were almost unnaturally blue, celestial. His hair was long, platinum blond like his son’s had been that brief moment you saw him. “Come, child.” He held out his hand and you took it, allowing him to pull you onto the back of his reindeer and take you to the ruins of Dale, where the elves and the men were camped together.

When you got to the tent where the leaders had been planning, you were pretty surprised to find Gandalf already there.

“Book Keeper, I apologize for the elf king’s…brashness. He did not believe me that you existed.” Gandalf apologized.

“It’s okay.” You assured him.

“So, tell me Book Keeper. How is it you are able to tell the future of our world? And how were you able to sneak through my palace unnoticed?”

“I have a book about the dwarves’ adventure from my realm. Where I’m from, all of this is a work of fiction. That’s how I know what’s going to happen.” You told him. “And I didn’t sneak through unnoticed. I was actually spotted by several of your guards. They all thought I was an elf, including your son.”

Thranduil stared at you with those weird, big blue eyes. He looked kinda pissed, but he was graceful about it.

“She speaks the truth.” Bard said, his eyes grateful. “Without her warning, Smaug would have burned Laketown to splinters. I was able to shoot him down before he even reached the edge of town because she told me exactly where and how and with what to shoot him. It worked.”

“I’m glad I could help.” You told him.

“She means well, Thranduil.”

“I will be the judge of that.” The elven king tilted his head, his voice cool and emotionless. “Tell me, Book Keeper, do you know why I am here?”

“You want the white gems in Erebor.”

“They belong to me.”

“That seems to be subjective.” You replied.

“How dare you, you insolent girl—”

“Thranduil, please.” Gandalf calmed him.

“What of the men, then?” Thranduil challenged, crossing his arms.

“The dwarves promised them gold in exchange for the weapons we were gifted in Laketown.” You replied. “And Thorin is being…stubborn on the matter, admittedly.”

“I have tried to argue that your tip about Smaug and the value of his hide outweighs the dwarves’ debt.” Bard informed you. “My people are being stubborn about it as well.”

“No, they’re right. Thorin should pay you for everything you all did for us. I can try to convince him, but I’m not sure he’ll budge.” You shared a look with Gandalf that told the wizard everything he needed to know.

“There is a larger problem at stake here, is there not, Book Keeper?” Gandalf pushed. “Larger than sums of gold or indebted jewels.”

“There are orcs coming. They’ll be here tomorrow. If we don’t all band together to fight them, to finish them off, they will not stop until all of Middle Earth is conquered, all of your people killed.” You told them.

“Why should I believe a word you say?” Thranduil’s eyebrows furrowed and his eyes settled in your hair. “How do I know this is not a distraction to pull my focus from what matters to me? Is that not a dwarven courting bead braided into your hair? Your interests are vested.”

“I do have a vested interest in the dwarves; of course I do. They’re my best friends, my family. One of them is the love of my life. But I have a vested interest in the rest of Middle Earth, too. I grew up on the stories of this place, stories about you, about your son, Legolas and the amazing things he’ll accomplish someday. But if the world is overrun by orcs, I don’t think any of that will happen. Sure, in the short term, the dwarves and the men would get wiped out and you’d be able to hide in Mirkwood, but you wouldn’t be able to hide forever. They’ll get you eventually and it will have all been for nothing, your eternal life wasted when you could have changed the outcome.”

Thranduil was quiet for a long moment, processing your monologue. “And say I do help you…Will you guarantee I am given what I am owed?”

“You have my word.”

Bilbo appeared in the entrance of the tent, tucking his ring into his pocket. “I’ve brought some…insurance that Thorin will pay after the Battle.”

“Bilbo?” Gandalf raised his eyebrows.

“Hello, Gandalf.” Bilbo reached into his coat and presented the Arkenstone, at which Bard’s eyes widened. “Thorin values this gem more than anything. Surely if you present it to him, he will give you what he’s promised in return.”

“How is this yours to give?” Bard murmured.

Bilbo shrugged. “I took it as my 14th share of the treasure in the mountain. With the guidance of a certain Book Keeper, of course.”

You looked from Thranduil to Bard. “Please.”

“If you can provide the women and children of Laketown safety during the battle, I swear every man will fight to the last breath.” Bard offered.

“Done.” You agreed.

Thranduil stared at the Arkenstone for a long, long while before meeting your eyes again. “Since it is orcs and not just dwarves we will be fighting…I’ll call for reinforcements.”

You exhaled in relief. “Thank you.”

“We have been collecting dragon hide from Smaug.” Bard added. “It seems only fitting to offer the dwarves some for armor.”

“Thank you, Bard. Also…do me a favor and pretend Bilbo didn’t give you the Arkenstone. Claim you…found it inside of Smaug’s remains…or something.” You asked. “It’ll save us all some trouble with the king under the mountain.”

“Done.” Thranduil nodded. “Now, my son will escort you back to Erebor, if you so please.”

Your eyes widened. “Um, sure. Thank you, your highness.”

Bilbo stuck around to talk to Gandalf for a moment while you walked outside the tent to find Legolas standing there with an amused grin.

“I saved you that dance.” He teased.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve actually…got a prince of my own waiting for me in Erebor.”

“Well, he is very lucky, then.” Legolas took your arm. He led you to his horse and helped you up onto the back of it. “I could not help but overhear that you’ve heard stories of me, where you’re from?”

“Yeah. About sixty years from now, you kind of save the world. It’s pretty awesome.”

“Mmm.” Legolas nodded, impressed. “Good to know. And I suppose you’ll be around to guide us then as well?”

“I hope so.”

The ride back to Erebor was rather short. Legolas dropped you off at the bridge, where Kili was pacing outside. He lit up when he saw you’d returned, rushing to you immediately and handing the book back to you.

“How did it go?”

“Really well, actually.” You told him, pressing your lips to his for a moment before asking, “Where’s your uncle?”

“He’s…in the treasure room.” Balin answered. “I’ll go fetch him.”

Kili walked with you back inside, his hand tight in yours. The dwarves all assembled in the throne room. Thorin, who was now wearing a large gold and silver crown on his head, sat on the throne carved from stone. He really did look the part, now.

“What did they say?” Thorin asked. “Negotiating for treasure, no doubt.”

“Partially. I told them of the orcs that are coming and…they’ve all agreed to help fight. Thranduil, in exchange for the white gems, and Bard in exchange for the gold they were promised in Laketown and the safety of their women and children during the battle.” You explained, heart racing as you watched the expression on Thorin’s face for any sign of anger. “Bard is also sending us pieces of Smaug’s hide to make armor from. They’ve been…dismantling the dragon.”

“Mmm…” Thorin hummed and then went quiet for an uncomfortable amount of time. “Book Keeper, I must admit, I am quite impressed.” He nodded, a proud look on his face. “You will make a fine princess one day.”

“Thank you.” You exhaled in relief. “The orcs will be here tomorrow, rather early in the day. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Then we will spend all night preparing.” Thorin decided. “Dwarves, to your stations. We must prepare for war.”

***

Not long after your negotiation with the other camps, the women and children of Laketown came to the gates of Erebor. At Thorin’s request, you helped them get situated and comfortable. Being a human woman yourself, the king under the mountain knew you would be able to offer them some peace of mind.

You and Dori passed out blankets and pillows and food, making sure everyone got settled in the room Thorin had designated for them. It was tucked pretty far into the mountain, so he knew they’d be safe.

You spotted Sigrid and Tilda in there with their brother Bain, discussing something. Sigrid looked up and spotted you, smiling.

“Hey, glad you guys made it. Everything going okay?”

“We’re doing well,” Sigrid smiled. “Da said you warned him about the dragon. Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course. I…your whole town was so kind to us, I couldn’t imagine letting it happen without giving you some kind of warning.” You told her, handing the girls some blankets.

“What’s that bead in your hair?” Tilda asked, pointing to the silver band holding your braid together. “It’s new, right?”

“It’s a courting bead, from Kili.” You told her, smiling.

Sigrid gasped, excited. “Does that mean that you’re finally together?”

“At long last.” You confirmed, giggling. “Yeah, he’s…he’s amazing.”

“Is that him?” Tilda pointed to the doorway and sure enough, Kili was standing there, scanning the crowd for you.

You thought it was kind of funny. Among the dwarves, you’d always stood out like a sore thumb. You were the tallest of the company, just barely taller that Dwalin, and therefore, you’d been easy to spot among them, but now, surrounded by your own kind, he had some trouble seeing you.

“Over here.” You waved, drawing his attention.

He entered the room, walking to you and taking your hand. After a moment, he recognized Bard’s kids and nodded in greeting. “If you don’t mind too much, I need to borrow our Book Keeper, get her fitted for some armor.”

“Of course.” Sigrid smiled. “Congratulations, by the way.”

Kili straightened up a bit when she said it, proud. “Thank you.”

As the two of you walked to the forges, where the others were hard at work, he pulled your hand to his lips for a kiss.

He grinned mischievously and glanced over at you. “You told them?”

“Of course I did. I’m very proud to be yours, my prince.” You said it kind of teasingly. With the other dwarves and elves and men in Erebor for the battle, the formalities were a bit more important now than they had been during the rest of the journey, bit it still felt weird addressing him with his title.

His cheeks reddened. “You don’t have to call me that, you know.”

You winked. “I know.”

“Uncle wants me to wear a crown.” He sounded annoyed talking about it. “I don’t know, it just doesn’t feel like the time for that.”

“Things will calm down after tomorrow. Reach some kind of normalcy.”

“I hope you’re right.”

You shrugged. “I usually am. It’s part of my job.”

He chuckled and shook his head at you. The two of you walked into the armory, where Dwalin was anxiously waiting for you, large pieces of Smaug’s hide waiting on a table in front of him.

“Woah…” You murmured, looking at it. “That is…wild.”

“It’s quite tough. We tested some weapons against it and most of the blades can’t pierce it.” Dwalin agreed. “Our prince here has requested that your armor be made from it.”

“Oh.” You looked over at Kili. “He has, has he?”

He took your hand with both of his, pulling it to his chest and looking up at you with those warm brown eyes. “I want you to be protected, Amrâlimê. You insist on fighting alongside us tomorrow and I know I cannot change your opinion on it, but I need to know you’ll be safe.”

“I want you to be safe, too.”

“We’re reinforcing the company’s armor as well, at Thorin’s request.” Bofur informed you from the next stall over, holding a weapon so hot it was glowing bright red.

“Good.” That did make you feel quite a bit better.

“I need your measurements, lassie. Thought you might be more comfortable if your beloved did it.” He handed Kili a tape measure and a pad of paper and winked at the dwarf prince, who chuckled and walked with you to a more private corner.

It was sort of intimate in a weird kind of way, Kili taking measurements for your breastplate, the sleeves, the length of your shoulders. And when you were done, he relayed the information to Dwalin to make sure your armor would fit correctly.

Afterwards, the two of you left the armory.

“What does Thorin have you doing for the rest of the day?” Kili asked.

“I’m on Laketown duty with Dori. Making sure all the people are comfortable, bringing them food…”

“Mmm…” Kili nodded. “Do you have anything…pressing to be doing right now?”

“Not particularly.” You answered.

“Good.” Kili grabbed your wrist and pulled you into a small storage room in the hallway. He pushed you against the wall and crushed his lips to yours, passion in every movement. You always forgot how strong he was until moments like this.

You let his lips explore your own for a good long while, limbs mingling with each other’s bodies, your fingers wandering into his soft black hair. You knew you wouldn’t have many of these moments left. In fact, this might be your last one, so you made the most of it, kissing him in a way he wouldn’t soon forget. And once you each came down from the high of your love for one another, he spent a long, quiet moment admiring your features.

“I’ll never tire of that.” He whispered, gazing up at you. “Although, I hope that the moments we steal after the battle will last longer than this.”

You leaned down and kissed him, your lips soft and slow. He melted against you, his eyes fluttering shut as he stood on his toes to be able to reach them. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him to you. It wasn’t often the two of you embraced while standing, and it was made clear why almost immediately, as Kili’s face only reached your chest, but he didn’t seem to care, his arms tight around your waist.

You rested your head against his, exhaling a long breath and just letting him hold you for a moment. “It’s going to be a long, long night, my love…” You murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

He chuckled darkly. “It already is.”

“What does Thorin have you doing?” You asked.

“Weapon maintenance, mostly.” He shrugged. “He has Fili doing a lot more.” He looked up at you, fingers gently touching your courtship braid. “I sharpened your swords.”

Your heart just about melted. “Thank you.”

“I want to make you some new ones…when things settle, of course. Some daggers, too, if you want. I’m admittedly not a very good weaponsmith, but Dwalin’s offered to teach me. It’s a dwarf thing…crafting gifts for your One, especially while courting.”

You smiled. “That’s really sweet.”

“You think so?”

“I can’t wait to learn more. All of this is still new to me.”

“Of course it is…we dwarves love our secrets.” He took your hand and pressed a kiss to each of your fingers, one by one. “And I cannot wait to tell you each and every single one of them.”

You nuzzled your nose against his. “That makes two of us.”

***

Once the sun set, the mothers started getting their children ready for bed, but many of them had trouble getting their kids to sleep. Gandalf wandered into the room, smoking his pipe. With him, he had a small red book tucked under his arm.

“Book Keeper,” he smiled, that familiar glimmer in his eye. “I’ve brought you another. Thought a story might help get the young ones to bed.”

“Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs,” you read from the cover, chuckling. “Seems appropriate.”

Gandalf nodded. “Quite.”

You rounded up all the kids for a storytime and they sat expectantly in front of you, waiting for you to begin. “Now, this is a story from my realm. There are dwarves in it, sure, but they’re not a lot like the dwarves here in Middle Earth. Their names are a little silly; there’s one named Sneezy and another named Sleepy.” Some of the kids giggled at that.

“Is there a princess?” Asked a little voice.

“Of course there is. Her name is Snow White and she is the fairest in all the land.”

“How about a handsome prince? Is there one of those?” Fili’s voice asked from the back of the room, a smirk on his face.

“There does so happen to be a handsome prince, yeah.”

“Is he a dwarf?” Kili asked, taking a seat beside his brother.

“Unlike my own, no, he’s not, unfortunately.” You smirked at him. “Come here, you wanna help me read this?”

“I suppose I could.” Kili stumbled forward, getting a little push from his brother. “But only if I get to be Sneezy.”

You smiled as he sat beside you, looking over the cover of the little red book in your hand. As the two of you read the story to the children, alternating lines, he couldn’t help but do something he’d thought was impossible: somehow, he managed to fall even more in love with you.

***

After the kids were all asleep, Thorin called the company together one last time. You all stood in a circle, Gandalf finally with you all once again.

“Tomorrow is a fateful day for us all.” Thorin looked to each member of the group. He was wearing the crown of the king and looked extremely regal. He had been born for this, raised for it. You could only hope that you’d be able to protect the line of Durin when the battle finally arrived. Maybe it was the waiting that was the worst part.

You let out a sigh, closing your eyes. Kili took your hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Burglar, Book Keeper, thank you for everything you have done for us.” Thorin pressed his lips together. “This may be our last night as a company. I do not know what tomorrow holds for us, and for the sake of our confidence…” he made eye contact with you and you could tell that some part of him must have known, “I do not wish to have any more glimpses into our future.”

“Understood.” You nodded.

His closing words sent a chill down your spine. “Eat well. Get as much sleep as you can. Tomorrow, we defend our home.”

You settled between Kili and Fili, managing to get some food down despite the sinking feeling in your stomach. It was rather quiet, given the volume you’d come to expect from the group assembled around you. One last night with them…one last night together before your new life in a still-strange land would get turned upside down for better or worse.

Some of the dwarves played instruments they had, turning to music even in their darkest moments. Bifur was sitting in the corner of the room, carving something out of wood with his knife. You leaned on Kili, your head resting against his. You felt the warmth of his arm around your waist.

Unsure of what else to do, really, you pulled out the book one last time and skimmed the words about the battle. But that was the problem: there wasn’t much. Bilbo passed out in the version in your hands, was unconscious for the majority of the action and only came to when Fili and Kili were already dead and Thorin was dying from his wounds. Not particularly helpful.

You shook your head and shut the book. You gazed into the flames for a very long time, considering chucking it in there and watching it get devoured, but you decided against it. For one, it was your only copy, and for two, you weren’t sure exactly what was tying you to Middle Earth and you didn’t want to risk getting yeeted away early. So, instead, you got up off of the floor and walked across the room, handing it to Gandalf.

“You may yet need this.” He said, his eyes twinkling with something unrecognizable.

“There’s not a lot about the battle in it…”

He looked rather surprised. “There’s not?”

You paused for a long moment. “Gandalf…do you not know what’s in the book?”

“I’ll admit, I don’t know the specifics, dear.” He chuckled and blew his pipe. “I know the big things, sure, but not every detail.”

You stared at him for another long moment. “Okay…interesting. Anyway…will you hold onto it for me? Just in case?”

“Ah. For safekeeping.” He nodded and took the book from you. “I will see that it is returned to you promptly after the battle.”

“Thank you.” You turned and walked back to where you had been sitting before, where Kili was anxiously waiting for you. Before you could settle into your original spot, he pulled you onto his lap and pressed a long kiss to your cheek. You closed your eyes and basked in his warmth and the warmth of the fire.

You looked to each member of the company in attendance, the once-timid Bilbo, your future brother-in-law, the two who had taught you how to show Kili just how much he meant to you, the healer who had treated your dragon-inflicted wound, the quiet scribe who had been writing down every detail of the adventure. It went on and on. Each dwarf had put their own unique fingerprint on your heart.

Bifur walked up to you and muttered something in Khuzdul, handing you something small. When you examined it further, you found it to be a little wooden bird, the thing he had been carving the whole night.

“He said it’s for you, so you’ll remember him when you go back home.” Kili translated for you, his voice gentle and soft and a little sad.

“Oh, Bifur, it’s beautiful.” You choked back a sob and stood, hugging the gruff dwarf, who instantly returned the gesture. “I could never forget you.” You wiped your tears away. “I could never forget any of you. I’ll…I’ll treasure all of you for the rest of my life.”

You knew in your heart that was the truth. No matter what would unfold the next day, no matter where you wound up when it was all over, the company would live in your heart forever, you were sure. In fact, you didn’t think you could forget them if you wanted to. And you could only hope that when the battle came, you’d give them a reason to remember you, too.

***

When morning came, everyone was bustling through the lonely mountain, preparing for war. There was a nervous energy floating through the air. It was getting to you too. You couldn’t remember the last time your heart had been at its normal pace, but it had been racing all day.

Watching the dwarves armor up was surreal and haunting, especially watching Fili and Kili help each other into their armor. Dwalin carried your armor to you, glimmering and red, like the autumn leaves beyond the hills. You faltered, seeing it for the first time. Smaug had been evil, sure, but you couldn’t doubt the beauty in his scales. You could only hope they’d protect you now, that they’d protect all of you.

“Kili, get your beloved ready. The elf scouts have spotted something headed this way.” Dwalin called before leaving you to attend to other duties.

Kili immediately turned his attention to you, rushing over to help you into your armor. He guided your arms into the sleeves and fastened the straps in the back, his fingers moving quickly and expertly, securing it in place. It was pretty heavy, but you felt well-protected in it.

“How does that feel?” he asked, searching your face. “Too tight?”

“It feels good. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He nodded, his hand lingering in yours for a moment.

Tears welled in your eyes and his expression melted. He pulled your face down to his, resting his forehead against yours for a long moment. “Amrâlimê, I will be with you the entire time. Fili and I will not leave your side, I swear it.” He promised, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I will not let anything happen to you. None of us will.”

“I’m not worried about me.” Your voice broke and a tear slipped down your cheek.

His eyes met yours, his expression bittersweet. This was love, he felt it in his bones. Here, in the face of your first real battle, you were worried about him.

“Dwarves! Assume your stations!” Dain and his men walked briskly through the mountain, getting everyone ready.

You swallowed and closed your eyes, wiping at your tears and pulling away from Kili. Fili handed you your weapons, freshly sharpened and ready for battle, even if you weren’t.

“Nothing to worry about, Book Keeper,” the older prince reassured you, a hand on your shoulder and confidence in his voice. “We’ve got this.”

“I hope you’re right.”

You followed the rest of the company out of the mountain and onto the battlefield where, just as you’d predicted, the Orcs tunneled through the hills opposite you all, storming out in a mighty horde. Most were on foot, but some were on the backs of their wargs.

And thus, the battle began.

Because of your warnings in advance, there were forces ready in all the places you knew the Orcs were start, and more forces ready in the places the orcs would eventually reach. The elven archers took out a good number of them as they advanced, but more Orcs poured out of the tunnels and into the open field.

You followed Kili and Fili’s lead. They barely let any Orcs get to you, but the ones that did, you were quick to dispatch with your sword. It was intense, like everything was moving at two-times speed. You kept your eyes on the boys at all times, watching for anything that could possibly harm them. In the corner of your eye, you caught Thorin a few times and made sure he wasn’t getting hurt either.

You’d lost sight of Bilbo a long time ago, and the rest of the company was pretty well dispersed throughout the crowd.

“You…” A deep, gravelly voice hit your ears and your heart about leaped out of your chest.

Before you knew it, a large hand swung at you, taking you off of your feet. You skidded through the dirt, grimacing.

“(Y/N)!” Kili yelped, rushing towards you, but quickly pulled back by another large Orc.

“The little Book Keeper.” He laughed an awful laugh, towering over you in all of his horrific glory. “You do not belong here, human.”

“I keep hearing that, yeah.” You seethed, getting to your feet despite the blossoming bruises you could feel beneath your armor. “You must be Bolg.”

“In the flesh.”

“You didn’t hear about what happened to Smaug when he said that to me?” You asked, fire burning in your chest, tingling in your fingertips. “I’m wearing what’s left of him.”

“Confident for an Other Realmer. Such a shame to see it all go to waste for a miserable company of dwarves.” He chuckled. “Come with me instead. I could use your insight.”

“And just why the fuck would I do that?”

A blade pressed against your neck from behind, dangerously close to piercing the skin. You felt a strong, tree-like arm wrap around you and your feet left the ground. “In exchange for your life, perhaps?”

“NO!” Kili cried, killing three Orcs on his way to where you were standing, his brother beside him and his uncle not far behind.

Bolg paused, looking to where Kili stood, amused at the emotion on the dwarves’ face. He laughed cruelly. “This is more than concern for their prophet. This one loves you.”

Kili ran at Bolg, slicing through the armor on his thigh and piercing the skin. Bolg grabbed him by the neck and raised him up into the air to get a better look at him.

“And the prince, no less.” He plucked up Fili with his other hand, dangling both of them in the air in front of you, tiny and helpless, struggling against Bolg’s monstrous grip as he began slowly choking the life out of them. “The end of the line of Durin in my very hands.” He grinned, displaying his sharp teeth. “Tell me, girl, who will die first, the heir or the spare?”

“Neither.” You hissed, a hot tear winding down your face and that familiar, blistering power blooming inside you once more.

Thorin slayed the Orc holding you, and as soon as your feet touched the ground again, you thrust both of your hands forward at Bolg. The emotions poured out of your chest at the sight of Kili and Fili dying, their faces filled with pain, groans strained as he squeezed their vocal cords. The image of their funeral flashed in your mind one last time and something clicked inside you, unleashing hellfire upon Bolg and the rest of his wretched army.

For a moment, nothing happened, but then, a crater eroded in his chest, a blinding, golden light tearing him apart from the inside out. And in the same moment, the rest of the Orc army erupted into flame, the same fire you’d stolen from the dragon whose hide you were wearing as a chest plate.

“YOU WRETCHED LITTLE WITCHHHHH!” He hissed, dropping the brothers as he disintegrated before your very eyes, reduced to ash, his voice echoing into nothing, the only remnant that he had ever existed.

The battlefield went silent, the three remaining armies looking around after their opponents had literally disappeared while they watched. After the silence came their victorious cries. The battle was over, hardly any casualties had taken place aside from the attacking orcs.

You rushed to Kili, frantically checking him and his brother for injuries. “Kili! Oh my god. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Amrâlimê.” He assured you, his breathing heavy now that he was free. His voice was a little hoarse, but that seemed to be his only injury.

“Fili?”

The older prince smiled. “I’m okay, too.”

You exhaled a huge sigh of relief and looked back at Thorin, who nodded at you, uninjured. It felt like a million pounds lifted from your shoulders. They were alive. The battle was over and they were alive.

Another sigh pulled itself from your lungs and something shifted within you. You were dizzy, utterly exhausted. You swayed on your feet a bit, eyelashes fluttering.

“My love?” Kili whispered, concerned, his hand touching your arm.

“I’m okay,” you insisted before falling into his waiting arms, your legs giving out beneath you.

The dwarf prince lowered you to the ground gently, finding a soft patch of grass before he searched you for injuries. He didn’t see any blood, nowhere had your armor been pierced, and aside from a small cut on your cheek, you appeared to be fine. He pulled you into his lap, his arms cradling you.

Your breathing slowed, but your heart continued to race and tears were quick to begin trailing down your cheeks.

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?” Bilbo rushed over to you, appearing from thin air. The rest of the company slowly assembled around you. “Did she…do that?”

“I don’t know.” You told him. “I feel…I don’t think I’m injured, I just feel…floaty.”

“Get the girl some water.” Oin insisted.

“I can’t find a wound on her.” Kili told the medic, his voice getting thick with tears and desperation. “Please, tell me what’s wrong with her.”

“You will find no injury, Kili.” Gandalf walked through the crowd of humans and elves and dwarves. “She is quite alright. This is…” He shook his head. “Well, this is the end of the spell I used to bring her here. The magic has all been spent.”

“Oh.” You murmured. It made sense when he said it. You could feel it, the fact that you were slipping.

“Well do something! There must be some spell to keep her here! Please!” Kili’s voice broke and his eyes left Gandalf’s meeting your own as he cradled you closer. “Please, I can’t lose her.”

“It’s okay, Kili.” You told him, your hand reaching up to brush his cheek, for once wiping his tears away. “I…I served my purpose. You’re alive. Fili and Thorin are alive. The line of Durin is safe. You’re safe. I…I wrote my own ending.”

You heard some sniffles among the group, namely from Balin and Bofur, but there were tears glimmering in the eyes of Dori and Ori and Bombur as well.

“You can’t leave us yet, lass.” Bofur said, taking off his hat and staring down at you. “Before the feast? Before the celebration?”

You laughed softly, looking up at the hobbit and each dwarf standing there. Your very best friends. Your family. Your heart already ached when you imagined just how much you’d miss them in your world without magic. “It’s bad timing, isn’t it? I…I’m not ready yet. I’m not ready to go…”

“Stay.” Kili whispered, pulling your face to his, his lips tasting of his salty tears as he kissed you. “Please, stay with me. Please.”

Part of you expected his kiss to be magical, to halt the sinking, floating feeling inside your chest. You expected True Love’s Kiss to save you at the end of your fairytale, but it couldn’t. It seemed nothing could.

“I’m sorry.” You sobbed, trying to sit up so you could embrace him better. “I’m so sorry, Kili.”

“It’s not your fault.” Kili shook his head, pulling you into a more upright position and pressing his forehead to yours.

You felt a tingling numbness in your fingers, and when you looked down at your hand, you found that they were disappearing, breaking into glowing silvery light and floating up into the cloudy sky. “No.”

You looked up at the company, at Thorin, the new king under the mountain, at Bilbo and Gandalf, and each of the others. “S-stay out of trouble, you guys. All of you. I love you so much and…I’m going to miss you for…well, for the rest of my life.”

“Book Keeper…” Thorin spoke, his voice going soft as he knelt down beside you and his nephew on the ground. “(Y/N)…If there ever is a day you come back, you will always have a place in our halls. I meant it when I said you would make a great princess and I mean it when I say it would have been an honor to have you as my niece.”

More tears slipped down your cheeks and you took the hand he offered you. “And it would have been an honor to have you as my uncle.”

Fili approached next, a weepy look on his face as he pulled you into a hug, the disappearance now working its way up to your elbow making it a bit more difficult. “Thank you. For saving my life.”

“You knew—”

“I figured it out.” He shrugged, lowering you back into his brother’s arms. “I’ll never forget everything you’ve done for me. For us. Take care of yourself. Find a new adventure.”

“You guys were the greatest adventure I’m ever going to get.” You looked up at the hobbit. “It’s going to be an amazing book, Bilbo. I should know, it’s the one I’ve been reading the whole time.”

Bilbo gasped, his eyes widening. “My book?”

“Why else would it be called The Hobbit where I’m from?” You chuckled. “Although, I bet your version will turn out bit different than the one I’m familiar with.”

“I would never leave out the best character.” Bilbo wiped a tear from his cheek. “Although, I think I might write a happier ending for her, if it’s all the same to you.”

“I can’t wait to read it.” You looked up at Kili, who hadn’t stopped crying since he’d first started. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” He shook his head. “I…I was supposed to be the one that didn’t make it. You…”

“I’m going to be okay.” You promised him, your nose resting against his.

“That makes one of us.” He murmured. “You are my One, my other half. I can’t imagine going on without you here with me. I don’t want to.”

“Someday, I promise you, we’ll see each other again. This isn’t the end for us.” You whispered, kissing him fiercely and he reciprocated immediately, his lips passionate against yours. You linked the pinkie that hadn’t disappeared yet with his own.

“Y-you said once…if something was meant for you to have, it would find you again.” He tightened his finger around yours until it started to disappear, too. “I swear to you, I will find you again.”

You nodded, whispering the words you’d been reciting in your mind for so long, just in case this was the outcome of your adventure after all. “I love you, Amrâlimê.”

You continued to vanish as the company watched. The last thing you felt of Middle Earth was a pair of lips against your own and the warmth of your lover’s arms around you.

And then everything went white.

***

When you opened your eyes, you were standing on your front porch in your pajama pants again. The sun shone bright in your eyes, birds chirping up in the trees, and the slightest breeze blowing through your hair.

You blinked a few times, looking around you to ground yourself. You were back home, except…it didn’t really feel like home anymore. You weren’t sure it ever would again.

Blinking away tears, you turned around and walked inside, half-expecting to wind up right back in Bilbo’s hobbit hole, but no, it was just your living room waiting on the other side of the threshold. You walked out the front door again, desperate, but had no luck. The only thing beyond that was your front porch again.

“No…” You mumbled, leaning against the wall before sliding down it, hiding behind your knees. “No, no, no…please…please! Take me back! Gandalf, please…”

You expected something magical to happen, for someone to appear from thin air and comfort you, but for the first time in about six months, you were left completely alone. It was the same day you’d left, only minutes after you’d first gone, and yet every moment you’d spent away was real and tangible. You remembered everything. Every hour of every day, the vast majority of them spent at Kili’s side.

The tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and you feared they never would, not so long as you were locked out of Middle Earth.

As you sat there, questioning everything your life had become, you couldn’t help but question if it had really even happened at all. Maybe it had just been an intense hallucination. After all, nothing around you had changed. But then, you caught a glimpse of something glimmering in your hair.

Kili’s courting bead, the very one he had spent so long making for you, was still carefully braided into your hair.

And your heart broke all over again. It was real and so was he. And so was the little wooden bird tucked in your pocket, Bifur’s parting gift. You sat there with both of them for a long time, staring at them, feeling them in your hands and forcing yourself to believe that you could go back. That one of these times you closed your eyes, you would be in Erebor again.

It took about an hour for you to get back on your feet and walk inside, only to collapse onto the couch, something inside of you deeply broken in a way you weren’t sure could ever be fixed.

The days passed slowly at first, each one a new burden, heavy and unstable. The hours seemed to crawl by. You had constant headaches from crying so much and you had trouble sleeping. When you did manage to get some rest, you had dreams of the company, of hiking with the dwarves, chatting with Bilbo, kissing Kili one last time. And then you’d wake up and relive the heartbreak all over again.

After a few weeks, it seemed to get a little easier. None of your friends knew why you were so heartbroken and you didn’t know how to begin to explain it to them, so you didn’t, and they never asked.

You got back to writing and, Gandalf had been right, your adventure had sparked something. You knew exactly what the story needed: a dwarf prince.

You’d finished the book in record time, poured all your energy into it. You’d hired an editor to clean it up for you, got the interior formatted, and commissioned a cover from an artist online. And then, a few weeks after that, it was in your hands and available online. It helped fill the hole in your heart the tiniest bit.

After about a month, you went with your friends to a comic con. You knew there’d be Lord of the Rings stuff there, and you knew you wouldn’t really be able to avoid it. You didn’t expect, however, for one of the first tables in the Artist Alley to have portraits of Kili, Fili, and Thorin right at the front of their display.

“You’re really in a Lord of the Rings mood lately, huh?” Your friend Conner asked when he caught your eyes lingering on them.

You shrugged, unable to explain to them exactly what had sparked it. “The Hobbit, but yeah, I have. Couldn’t tell you why…”

Obviously, you bought all three prints, and obviously you bought a poster of Erebor a few stalls later and obviously you cried in the car on the way home and put them up on your bedroom walls as soon as you arrived. Maybe it would hurt a little to see Kili’s face every day, but you’d been sad every day since then anyway, at least now you’d be able to see him.

Some sense of normalcy had returned to your life, sure. You were able to make it through a few days at a time without bursting into tears, but you knew, no matter how much time passed, not a single one would without you thinking of him in some way, shape, or form.

He, like the rest of the party, had left a handprint on your heart, a tattoo in your mind that would never fade, whether or not you wanted it to.

***Six Months Later***

It was now, finally, your twenty-fourth birthday. Snow was falling outside and your friends were beginning to arrive for a birthday party. It helped to have people there. You didn’t want to just be celebrating alone with only your thoughts for company. So, instead, you purchased plenty of pizza, plenty of adult beverages and fun alternatives for your non-drinking friends, which of course included black cherry cream soda. You had a banging birthday playlist going, some fun movies playing in the other room, and lots of snacks in the kitchen.

You were wearing a short-ish silver dress and had done your makeup for once. The bead Kili had given you so long ago was on a chain around your neck. It was hard trying to do the courtship braids without help, so you’d given up on them, instead choosing to wear it as a necklace. It didn’t mean anything to the people around you anyway. They didn’t know the power it held.

“Hey birthday girl!” One of your college friends, Chelsea, said, coming in through the door with a veggie tray and a gift bag. “Brought you some accessories.”

“Oh did you, now?”

Inside the bag, there was a sash and a crown that both said Birthday Princess on them. You chuckled, slipping the sash over your head and perching the crown in your hair. Ironic, you thought. Well, at least now you looked the part.

“Is this mead? Why do you have mead?” asked Ethan, who was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, laughing and reading the label on the bottle. “Where did you even get this?”

“One of the party stores had it.” You shrugged. “It’s like wine but sweeter.”

“Huh.” He poured himself a glass and you sipped the same drink from the solo cup in your hand. It was blueberry flavored and very good. Perhaps not as good as the kind the elves in Rivendell had served, but good nonetheless.

More friends kept arriving. You all chatted in the living room, beneath strobing LED lights, vibing to the music on your party playlist.

“What’s on your necklace?” Your friend Cianna asked, taking note of the bead around your neck.

“Oh, a friend gave it to me a while back. It’s an emerald.”

“It’s pretty.”

You nodded and touched it gently. “Thanks.”

Eventually, once everyone you’d invited was accounted for and you’d all had your share of pizza, your friend Natalie prepared the birthday cake, poking a bunch of candles into its surface and lighting them after. And yet, just before they could sing and before you could even dare to make a wish, there was a knock on the door.

Phil walked to the door, a party had on his head, and pulled it open, staring for a long moment before saying. “Uhhhhh, (Y/N), did you hire a bunch of cosplayers?”

“No, why…?” You blew out the candles without a thought and stood up from the table, cautiously walking towards the door, followed by the rest of your group.

“Um, hello, we’re looking for (Y/N) (L/N)…is she here?”

Your heart raced. You’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Bilbo???” You peered out the door, and sure enough, a hobbit and crowd of dwarves stood there, all clamoring to see into the house. Ori was looking through the window and waved excitedly when you spotted him. Except…he was taller than you remembered. They all seemed to be, in fact.

“Bilbo Baggins?” Chelsea murmured in awe. “THE Bilbo Baggins???”

Phil stepped aside, still looking for the words to say, but none came. He’d been expecting another pizza guy or something, not…this.

“What are you guys…How did you…?” You were flabbergast. You had to be hallucinating. It simply was not possible. You blinked a few times and looked at your friends, who were all, seemingly, seeing what you were. “C-come on in.”

Bilbo walked in, taking off his scarf. There was snow caught in his hair and his cheeks were rosy from the cold. You wondered how long they’d been out there, or, rather, how far they’d traveled to get to your front door.

Pushing past the others, Kili was the next to enter the house, rushing straight up to you and collecting you in his arms, his lips capturing your own. You melted at his touch, falling back into all of the emotions you’d been refraining from feeling for the past several months. His kiss drew a hum from your throat, his arm wrapping tight around your waist.

When he finally pulled away, his hand wandered up to your face, brushing the stray hairs out of your eyes. He took you in for all that you were in this realm and though you looked a bit different from the way you’d appeared in Middle Earth, it was indeed the same Book Keeper behind those eyes. He’d know his One anywhere, even in a realm beyond his own.

“Happy birthday, Amrâlimê. You look beautiful.” His finger touched the tip of your ear, which was no longer pointed, and was instead, the smaller, rounded human ear you’d grown up with. He laughed softly, amused. “Your ears are so small.”

“Kili, I…” You giggled in disbelief, looking up at him for the first time ever. “How are you here?”

“Gandalf dropped us off down the street.” Fili explained, kicking off his snow-covered boots and setting his swords on the floor. “Said he’ll be back with his present later.”

“He also said the rules of your realm may affect us the way our realm affected you.” Thorin explained, much taller than you’d seen him last. “Which seems to be the case, Book Keeper.”

“I…see that.” Thorin was even taller than Kili was, as opposed to his previous height of just past your shoulder. He looked even more regal this way, you decided.

“I’m sorry, what is going on?” Cianna asked, looking from one dwarf to the next.

“Did the lass not tell you about her big adventure?” Bofur teased, carrying a small bag with him. “You forgot your camera in Middle Earth.”

“Right.” You chuckled, taking the bag he handed you. “Forgot about that.”

“And your photos. I’ve organized them for you.” Dori handed them to you in a stack.

The rest of the dwarves filed into the house as your friends looked on in wonder and confusion, waiting for some kind of explanation.

“So uh…to make a long story short, about six months ago, Gandalf came by and swept me off on an adventure. And I kind of, uh…stole Smaug’s fire and used it to wipe out the orcs in the Battle of Five Armies. And fell in love with Kili. And then when I got back, it was like no time had passed at all, Narnia style.”

“That’s the abridged version.” Bilbo said, grinning.

“You know…that kind of explains a lot.” Conner said, thinking back on all the merch you’d bought at comic con. This was, perhaps, why you had cried when you found action figures of Kili and Fili in one of the bins full of toys at said comic con.

“You still have it.” Kili whispered, a finger carefully touching the bead hanging around your neck. “I-I thought…”

“I forgot how to do the braid.” You confessed. “I didn’t want it to fall out.”

He kissed you again, softer this time. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m here, then.”

Natalie pointed to the cake, the candles of which you’d just blown out. “Um, we have birthday cake. There’s ice cream, too.”

“Well why didn’t you say so?” Bofur laughed, walking towards the cake.

“What’s ice cream?” Ori asked, following him.

Balin walked up to you and took your hand as he passed. “Happy Birthday, lass. Good to see you.”

“Thank you, Balin.” You laughed. “You have no idea how good it is to see you guys.”

“Where’s the ale, lassie?” Dwalin draped a heavy arm around your shoulders. He was impossibly tall at human height.

“Have you ever had a margarita?” You asked, mischievous.

“Can’t say I have.”

“Come on.” You took Kili’s hand and led him, Dwalin, and Fili to the kitchen, where you and Cianna started serving up drinks.

Kili stopped at the counter, where he noticed the bottles of black cherry cream soda. He smiled softly and grabbed two, one for himself and one for you. When you abandoned the bar and walked back out to the living room with Kili, the dwarves were mingling with your friends, getting acquainted with one another.

You spotted your friend Taylor across the room teaching Bofur and Bifur how to play ping pong. Ori was in the other room watching whatever movie was on the TV. You were pretty sure it was Tangled. Gloin was scolding Nori for attempting to pocket something while Dori showed Phil and Conner the stack of photos from your Polaroid, telling stories of your adventure. Thorin was standing in the corner with Dwalin and Balin, sipping from a red solo cup, a sight you never saw you’d see. Meanwhile, Chelsea was chatting with Bilbo, asking him everything under the sun about the Shire.

Fili sat on the armchair next to the couch, his feet resting on the ottoman in front of it. “Nice place, Book Keeper.”

“You think so?”

“It’s cozy.” Kili agreed, removing your birthday princess crown for a moment before detangling your hair with the comb he always seemed to have tucked in his pocket. He set to work, putting the courting braid back in your hair, where it was meant to be.

You undid the clasp holding your necklace together and slipped the bead from the chain, handing it to him carefully so he could fasten it to the end of the braid once again. Once it was done, he carefully set the plastic crown back on top of your head.

He leaned in and kissed your cheek and then your lips, lingering against them for a long moment.

“I missed you.” You told him, touching your nose to his. “I was starting to think…I might not ever see you again.”

“How long has it been for you?” Fili asked.

“About six months. It’s been…really hard.” You shook your head. “I was starting to think the whole thing had been in my head…”

Kili frowned. “It’s…only been a few weeks in Erebor. The victory celebrations have barely dwindled.”

It felt like he’d stolen the breath from your lungs. For you, half a year had passed and for them, it hadn’t even been a month? The time travel stuff would never make sense to you, not entirely.

“Wow, that’s…” You shook your head. “Wow.”

Kili took both of your hands, serious all of a sudden. “I cannot imagine what that must have been like for you. Every day without you felt like an eternity. But I intend to make up for every moment.”

“Good.” You kissed him again, interrupted by a tap on your shoulder. You turned to find Natalie leaning over the back of the couch, her eyes locked on Thorin across the room. “Oh hey, what’s up?”

“That’s Thorin, right? Over there in the fur.”

“Thorin Oakenshield, in the flesh. He’s king under the mountain now. And he did not die in the Battle of Five Armies, so he’s got that going for him.” You assured her, twisting the cap off of your cream soda. You couldn’t help but smirk a little. You knew the look on her face and…you couldn’t say you blamed her.

“Uh-huh. Cool. And he’s…single, right?”

Fili choked on his drink and Kili let out a hearty laugh, thoroughly amused.

“Yeah, he is.”

Natalie downed the rest of her drink and adjusted her hair. “Alright good. I’m going in.”

You saluted her as she walked away. “Godspeed.”

“Uncle is that well-known here?” Fili asked, watching her go.

“Only to the nerds, but…we’re all nerds here.” You chuckled. “You three are…very popular among The Hobbit fans, especially the women.”

A smile snuck across Fili’s face. “I am too?”

“Yes, you are, Fili.”

There was a final knock at the door and you stood, walking to answer it. You were unsurprised to find Gandalf there, a proud look on his wise features.

“Quite the party here, Book Keeper.” He said, stepping inside, a book tucked under his arm. “I apologize for my tardiness. I had a meeting with a lion run a bit longer than expected.”

You stared at him for a long time before blurting, “Are you…talking about Aslan?”

That mischievous gleam appeared in his eyes once more. “Oh yes, Aslan and I are old friends. I needed his help putting the finishing touches on your gift.” He handed the book to you. “Happy birthday, dear.”

“Thank you.” The book in your hands was your own, the copy of the Hobbit you’d left in Middle Earth.

He winked. “Check the back cover.”

You took his advice and opened to the back of the book, where a necklace was tucked. It was silver and circular, several symbols along the edge of it and three emeralds embedded in its surface in a triangle. It buzzed with an unfamiliar power. “Woah…”

“This, dear Book Keeper, is a Charm of Return. I needed special permission to acquire it, but it will allow you to travel to either realm as you please. I’m sorry it took me so long to get it to you, but it took quite some time to convince the Council to grant my request.”

You hugged him tightly, your heart racing. “I don’t know how to thank you. This is…”

“It is I that owes you, dear, not the other way around. You have done immeasurable good for Middle Earth, and…come sixty years from now, I may need your expertise once more.” He looked around the room. “These friends of yours wouldn’t happen to be in need of an adventure, would they? I’m sure there are a handful of hobbits, an elf prince, a dwarf, and a few men that could use some guidance and I doubt you’d be able to be in all of those places at once…”

You laughed. “I think a lot of them would be very interested in that offer.”

“I will keep them in mind.” He tipped his hat. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it seems your friend is in need of some help at the ping pong table. Two against one is hardly fair, especially where Bifur is concerned.”

Gandalf walked away and Kili stood at your side again. When you felt his presence, you looked down out of habit, but he guided your chin up instead, laughing. It was, decidedly, odd being taller than you. He didn’t necessarily mind, but he was pretty sure he preferred your height difference the other way around.

“What did he give you?”

“My book. And an enchanted necklace.” You told him, your arms looping around his neck, resting on his shoulders. “Our relationship is no longer long-distance.”

He tugged you closed to him, a strong arm around your waist as he dipped you back, exploring your lips for a long moment before pulling you upright again. “Good, because I much prefer having you close to me, Amrâlimê.”

You reached up to touch his face, your thumb grazing his stubble. Honestly, you were still trying to convince yourself that he was there, that he was real and not merely a dream, as he had been for the past six months. But no matter how many times you blinked, he was still there, his leather and campfire and pine scent just as strong as you remembered it to be, his warmth vivid and real. “Me too.”

“You keep looking at me like you’re afraid I’ll disappear.” He whispered, his voice a bit sad, his eyes searching your own for some hint of what you were feeling.

You teared up a bit. “I kind of am.”

“Oh ghivashel…” He pulled you to his chest, one of his hands cradling your head, gently petting your hair in an attempt to reassure you that this was real, that he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He pressed a long kiss to the crown of your head. “I swore to you once that I’d find you again. Now that I’ve found you…I swear to you, I’m never going to lose you again.”

“Promise?” You asked, your voice wobbly.

He pulled away and offered you his pinkie, a tearful smile on that handsome face of his. You linked your pinkie with his, locking the promise.

Ethan peeked out of the other room. “Hey, (Y/N), can you hook up the Switch? I have to kick…” He looked behind him and asked. “Sorry, what’s your name?”

“I’m Ori.”

“I have to kick Ori’s butt at Just Dance.”

You laughed. “Oh absolutely.”

You helped connect your Switch to the TV, and as you did so, you couldn’t help but notice Thorin and Natalie stepping up to the ping pong table opposite Taylor and Bofur. Yeah, something about that felt right, too.

“Now, what is this Switch of yours?” Fili asked, looking on with curiosity as you switched the cords around before, finally, the menu popped onto the TV screen. The dwarves in the room made noises of awe.

“Remember how I told you about video games? This is that.”

You took a seat on the couch beside Kili and handed one of the controllers to Ethan, who showed Ori, Dori, and Nori how to play while the rest of the dwarves gathered around, interested to see how it worked.

You draped an arm around Kili’s shoulders and rested your legs atop his. Kili’s hand settled on your thigh and he stared at you, obsessed with the proximity after weeks of being apart. He thought you looked so beautiful in your glittering silver dress, your birthday princess crown and sash.

“What?” You asked, catching him staring at you.

He kissed your cheek, his arm wrapping around your waist. “It just…doesn’t feel real. Being here. I’ll admit, I never thought I’d get to come to your realm.”

“What do you think?”

“It’s very different than I’m accustomed to, but I think it definitely explains a lot about you. I like it, of course, but I’m not sure I could ever adjust to living here, not fully.”

“It’d be quite the learning curve.” You agreed. “That’s how I felt with Middle Earth, in the beginning. It felt…unreal. Every morning I expected to wake up back in my bed, like it had all been some fantastical dream, and…once I came back here, I kept expecting to wake up there instead.”

“You belong to both.” He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, still half-expecting it to come to a point.

You nodded. “I belong to both.” Your hand wandered to the enchanted necklace around your neck. “And now I can.”

After a few rounds of Just Dance, one of your friends put in MarioKart instead, attempting to explain the game to Fili, who showed an interest in the racing game. Seeing the opportunity to step away for a moment, Kili looked at you and asked, “Can you show me your room?”

“Yeah, of course.” You stood up and took his hand, leading him through the living room, down the hall, and into your room.

He looked around, curious. His eyes lingered on every poster adorning your walls for a moment before stopping on the prints you’d gotten at comic con. All in a row, you had portraits of himself, his brother, and his uncle, and above them, there was a poster of Erebor, bathed in mist.

“Where did you get these?” He asked, staring at them.

“At a convention I went to this year.” You shrugged. “Reminded me of home. I left all my pictures there, so things like this are the only way I can really see it.”

“Home…” He repeated the word, nodding. “It’s been hard sleeping without you at my side. Our bed feels empty without you.”

Your heart leapt when he said it. Our bed. You took a step closer to him, stepping into his warmth. His hand rose to your cheek, pulling you in for a long, slow kiss. He had to crane his neck down in order to reach your lips, which caused him to chuckle.

“What?” You asked, amused.

“Is this what it’s like when you try to kiss me?” He asked, looking down at you from his elevated human height. You figured he was probably about six feet tall like this. Thorin and Dwalin were even taller yet, wherever they were in your house with your friends.

“Yeah, pretty much.” You stood on your toes and kissed him again. “I can’t say I mind, though.”

“I suppose I never asked how you felt about it. About the distance between us.” He sat on the bed, pulling you towards him so you were standing between his legs in a way that more accurately mimicked your usual height difference. “You don’t care? Even the human men in my world are usually taller than their beloveds…”

“I couldn’t care less.” You poked his nose with the tip of your finger. “You’re a dwarf, Kili. Your height is part of who you are, and…I love every piece of you. I don’t care how tall you are compared to me, all I care about is you.”

You settled on his leg, pulling his arms around you and pressing another passionate kiss to his lips. He kissed you hungrily, like he had been the one waiting six months to do so opposed to the other way around. When you separated, he rested his forehead against yours and took a long breath.

“Would you like your birthday present now?”

“You got me a present?” You asked.

“Of course I did, ghivashel.” He nuzzled his nose against yours and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small wooden box, which had been painted forest green.

He handed it to you, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you opened it, only to find a claddagh ring, very similar to the one that had been turned into the bead braided into his hair. Instead of hands on either side of the emerald, however, there were tiny silver leaves, like the ones he’d worked into your courting bead. It truly was gorgeous. You could tell he’d made it himself, which only made you love it more.

With careful hands, he slid the ring onto your right ring finger so the heart was upright, signifying that you were in a relationship. He pressed a long kiss to your cheek. “I’ve been wanting to do that since you told me what your ring meant that night in the goblin cave.” He admitted, his voice soft and deep. “I’d just stare at your ring and think about how badly I wanted to flip it over, to call you mine. And someday…I want to be the one who gets to move it to your other hand.”

“I want that too.” You assured him, whispering against his lips.

“I didn’t know Gandalf was going to bring us here when I started working on it. I just…needed something to distract me from the hole in my heart.” He kissed your forehead and then your cheek and then your lips. “They’re calling you the Emerald Princess of Erebor back home.”

“Are they?” You asked, amused. “I’ll admit, it has a ring to it.”

“Among your other titles, of course. Book Keeper, Fire Stealer, Realm Traveler, Orc Burner…” He searched your face before adding, “You’re a hero, you know. To all of us. When it was looking like you might not be back…Uncle was in the process of commissioning a statue of you, especially once he found out it wasn’t just my life you’d saved.”

“So he knows, then.”

“We all do.” Bilbo was standing in the doorway of your room. He took a look around. “It’s nice in here. Sorry to interrupt, ah, the others are beginning to tell stories to your friends and we thought you might like to be present for that. Also, there’s only one slice of cake left and Bofur said you two haven’t had any yet.”

“Thank you, Bilbo.” You smiled and stood up.

“Is that the Shire?” Bilbo pointed to a poster hanging on your wall. His eyes narrowed at it, examining it further. “Is that my house?”

“Yeah, it is.”

He pointed to a print of Frodo and Sam and Merry and Pippin. “Who are they?”

“Well, that one is your nephew. Technically, I guess, he’s your cousin, but you two call each other nephew and uncle. He’s…he’s going to do great things someday.”

“Huh.” Bilbo nodded, leading you and Kili back down the hall to where the others were all congregating in the living room.

Some had gotten refills of some their drinks, and some of the dwarves were trying the human snacks they’d found in your kitchen. Dori was trying to convince Ori to try a margarita, but he insisted that he didn’t like green food and that also applied to green beverages.

Bofur handed you a paper plate, upon which was the last slice of birthday cake, and two plastic forks. He winked. “Thought you might share with your beloved.”

“Thank you, Bofur.” You and Kili settled into the spot that was left for you in the makeshift circle that had formed in the living room.

Gandalf was perched on a chair in the corner of the room, on the edge of the group, as he often was. Fili had a bit of frosting caught in his beard as he ate the second to last slice of cake.

“Is it good?” You asked, laughing softly.

“It’s fantastic, Book Keeper.”

“I’m glad.” You handed Kili the other plastic fork.

Kili broke off a piece of cake and held his fork in front of your mouth. You ate from it playfully. It was nice, getting to be domestic with him, given that so much of your time together thus far had been on the road, weaving in and out of danger.

“So…” Chelsea pressed, your human friends all waiting anxiously to hear about your time in Middle Earth. “What was it…like?”

“Anything specific or just in general?” You asked for clarification.

“In general, I guess.”

“It was…everything I could have imagined.” You shrugged. “Like, the movies don’t even begin to do it justice, Middle Earth. We started in the Shire, at Bilbo’s, travelled to Rivendell, through Mirkwood, through Laketown, to Erebor. It took a long time, not just the nine hours that are on screen. Like, the book is just the cliffnotes, you know? Being there, doing it…It was spectacular. Scary sometimes, sure, but I think it was worth it.”

“What’s your scar from?” Taylor pointed to the long, jagged mark running up your arm. “Was it actually from dog-sitting or…?”

“A goblin got me, but that’s not even the big one.” You chuckled and stood, pulling up the skirt of your dress the tiniest bit, showing off the large mark left from the dragon’s talons. “Smaug did that.”

“Holy shit…” One of your friends murmured.

“The little scar on my cheek is, surprisingly, the only one I got during the Battle of Five Armies, but that one healed up so well, it’s hard to even see it.” You sat back down next to Kili.

“Meet anyone cool?” Ethan asked.

“Most of them are in attendance.” You replied, and the dwarves chuckled. “I did meet Legolas briefly. And Elrond. And we stayed with Bard for a bit; his kids were really nice. Also Thranduil is like…kinda mean.”

“He is an acquired taste, that is for certain.” Gandalf piped up from the corner. “Not entirely unreasonable, though.”

“What was your favorite part of the trip, lass?” Bofur asked, that mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“If that isn’t a loaded question…” You chuckled, shaking your head. “I honestly…I feel like there are too many to count. There were a lot of moments that really stuck out to me and I loved them all in different ways for different reasons; staying at Beorn’s, riding in the barrels down the river, the party at Laketown…” You took Kili’s hand and he gave yours a squeeze. “Obviously, I’m not single anymore, so I loved every moment that led up to that, as well, and…all of the moments since then, too.”

The group sat there for a while, reminiscing, telling stories. Balin recounted the moment you stole Smaug’s fire. Bofur told them all how wasted you’d been at the aforementioned party in Laketown. Fili recalled when he’d spotted you outside their cells in Mirkwood, disguised as an elf guard and Dwalin bragged that you’d stood up Legolas at the Festival of Starlight that night, managing to trick every elf you passed, including their prince.

“I have a story.” Kili spoke after a while, and everyone piped down, eager to see what he had to say. “So, that first night in the Shire, shortly after Thorin arrived, Gandalf informed us that there would be a mysterious fifteenth member of the company. He said fifteen was a lucky number and that, in addition to our Burglar, we were in need of a Book Keeper to…keep the record straight, or something of the sort. And I thought to myself, we have Ori for that, he’s a scribe, what more could we possibly need to keep the record of the adventure? We waited for a bit. Waited a little longer. And then I hear this little voice in the distance, down the hall and around the corner. Didn’t think much of it.”

You listened carefully. In all your time together, he’d never told you what was going through his head the moment you’d met.

“So Gandalf sends me to get her. Up until then, we didn’t even know she was a woman, which was a bit of an upset among the company. I wasn’t anywhere near the door, so I wasn’t quite sure why he’d sent me of all dwarves, but I stood and walked out of the room and down the hall and when I turned the corner and I…I saw her standing there, looking very lost and something happened, then. It was like she was glowing, this stunning, beautiful woman, and the first word out of her mouth is my name.” He chuckled and shook his head, squeezing your hand. “I’m sure I stood there, gaping at you like an idiot for a good, long time before finally asking if I’d met you before because surely, I would have remembered if we had. As it turned out, she’d come from an entirely different realm to help us.”

You caught a proud look on Thorin’s face, amusement in those blue eyes of his.

“I remember that tense moment after she was finally introduced to the company. I didn’t know whether or not Uncle would let her come along on the journey and, if he didn’t and she went back home after journeying so far to get to us…Even then, I knew she’d be taking half of my heart with her if she left.”

“Awwww…” Natalie pouted.

“But he let her come. And…I know for a fact that I wouldn’t be sitting here with all of you if she hadn’t.”

“And the rest is history.” Fili said, grinning.

“I’ve got a question.” Gloin said, holding up a copy of your book that had been lying on the coffee table. “What’s this, lassie? The Prince and the Prophet?”

“That’s my novel. I finished it when I got back, published it a few months back.”

“You just casually published a novel?” Bilbo asked, thoroughly impressed. “Is it that easy in this realm?”

“It takes time, sure, but actually getting it out there is kind of easy in this realm, depending on how you go about it.” You shrugged.

“Let me see.” Kili held out his hand and Gloin tossed it to him. He looked at the cover and he couldn’t help but notice the resemblance he and the love interest shared, right down to the height difference with the main character. “Second in line for the throne, first in line for her heart.” He read the tagline and his cheeks reddened.

“Well that sounds familiar, doesn’t it?” Fili joked, taking the book from his brother’s hands and holding it up so the others could see it side by side. “Kind of looks familiar too. Huh.”

“I knew it!” Phil pointed, triumphant. “I fucking knew it!”

“Ohhhhhh. Kili. Killian. I get it.” Cianna agreed, and everyone in attendance laughed.

Kili laughed in disbelief, his face right in front of yours. “You named him Killian?”

“As they say, write what you know.” You laughed, shielding your face by taking a sip from your drink. “I needed something to bury myself in. Try to fill in the hole in my heart a little bit, you know?”

Kili pressed a long kiss to your cheek. “All too well, Amrâlimê.” He raised an eyebrow, mischievous. “Do you think I could have a copy? Being your muse and all, I think it’s only fair.”

“Of course you can.” You laughed.

“Are there any mentions of the heir to the throne, Book Keeper? Prince Fillian, perhaps?” Fili asked and your friends all cracked up.

“No, of course not, that would be ridiculous.” You scoffed. “His name is Finnian and he has an intense passion for musical theater.”

The company erupted into laughter. You took a long moment to look around the room. It was like that last night before the battle in a way. You knew the magic of this night was limited. Once it was over, you’d never have this feeling again, this swirl of nostalgia and camaraderie and home, the mix of both of your homes together. Sure, now you had the ability to go back and forth, but you weren’t sure you’d ever get to have them all together in one room again. Only time would tell.

Hours later, the party finally ended. You had lots of help cleaning up, and your friends slowly started leaving to go back to their homes, unsure if when they woke this crazy night would be more than a dream. Some of the dwarves left as well, escorted by Gandalf out the front door and back to Middle Earth.

Once you finally had the place in a relatively normal state and you, Gandalf, Bilbo, and the Durins were the only ones left, you felt Kili’s presence behind you, warm and close. You turned into his arms, resting your head against his chest. He pressed a long kiss to your forehead and then murmured against your hairline the words you had been waiting to hear all night, “Come, Amrâlimê. Let’s go home.”

***

The celebrations in Erebor when you returned were unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. Dwarves, Elves, Men, and a wizard and a hobbit and a Book Keeper all celebrating together, one last time before they’d all go back to their own settlements and move on with their lives.

The men, Bard had told you, were considering moving to Dale from Laketown, in order to be closer to Erebor for trading with the Dwarves. Many of the dwarves that had come to fight alongside the company were staying, too, to help restore Erebor to its former glory. A lot of work had to be done to get it to that point, Thorin had told you. Especially since a dragon had torn his way through the place to escape the woman who’d stolen his fire.

Speaking of Thorin, he’d granted you a title and a gilded emerald circlet to go along with it, declaring you as an honorary Princess of Erebor, although given your relationship to his nephew, you would have married into that title soon enough anyway. And these days, you weren’t the only princess in Erebor. Dís, Kili and Fili’s mother, had made the journey in your absence, joining the rest of her family in their ancestral home. She had been incredibly kind to you and had welcomed you to the family immediately. Her brother and sons trusted you like their own, so she did, too, especially once she heard everything you’d done for them.

Slowly but surely, the Lonely Mountain was becoming less and less lonely, abuzz with people, the smithing industry up and running again, and every torch lit with warm light.

After another week, Bilbo decided it was finally time to go home. He and Gandalf prepared for the return journey. Bilbo wanted to slip out unnoticed, but the company caught word of it and gathered one last time to see him off at the gate.

“If any of you are ever passing Bag End…Tea is at four. There’s plenty of it…You are welcome anytime.” Bilbo said, his eyes sincere, and his voice wavering.

The dwarves all bowed to him one final time, each of their eyes glassy with tears.

“You’ll have to come back to visit someday.” You said, a tear trickling down your cheek, the pink light of sunrise flushing the scene with warmth and beauty. “For the wedding.”

Bilbo’s eyes softened and he took a step forward. You knelt down to the ground so he could give you one last hug before leaving for the Shire after all this time. He whispered in your ear, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Book Keeper.”

He started to walk away, stopped only by Thorin, who followed him up the path for a more private goodbye. Kili wiped a tear from his cheek and turned you towards him, gazing up at you as he had so many times before. “This is it, isn’t it? This is the end of the story?”

“It’s the end of the book, sure, but…” you shook your head, “it’s not the end of the story. It…well, to me, it feels like the beginning of a new one, except this time…I have no idea what’s coming next.”

Kili pulled you down to his level, pressing a long kiss to your lips. “We’ll find that out together, Amrâlimê, one page at a time…”

#kili #kili x reader #kili durin #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #tolkien #kili durin x reader #the book keeper

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