Kili Fanfiction - Tumblr Posts

Hello! I saw your 'pick a prompt' post, and if its not to late i'd like to request Number 3 from the situation prompt with Kili

Have a good day and make sure to stay hydrated!

"signing my life away"

author's note: OH MY GOD I'M SO GLAD SOMEONE FINALLY REQUESTED THIS ONE IT'S MY FAVORITE!!! I've been dying to write something for this prompt in particular, so I'm so glad you requested it <3 (definitely wrote this while having covid so I made reader get sick so I could relate to something lol) maybe i’ll even write a second part to this? idk yet

Pairing: Kíli / Gender-Neutral Human Reader

Word Count: 3,246

summary: being a scribe-for-hire is easy. a scribe for a dwarven prince? not so much, especially when he drives you insane.

content warnings: illness (it’s a cold), kinda enemies to lovers??, regular Kíli shenanigans

DO NOT REPOST OR COPY. MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

Two weeks. Two whole weeks and you already wanted to quit your job as a scribe-for-hire. But of course, the grand kingdom of Erebor had other plans for you in mind. Other plans that seemed to come in the form of two equally-annoying princes.

Of course, they hadn’t bothered you much when you had first arrived at the Lonely Mountain. No, for your first week had proven quite fruitful and lovely, with most of your work coming from the commissions of young dwarrowdams who wished to court their fancies with letters proclaiming their love. It was something you easily found yourself enjoying, being a romantic yourself. It was also through these commissions that word spread like wildfire of your services. And that fire had seemed to blaze even brighter to the two dwarven princes of Erebor.

Fíli and Kíli, you had come to know, were quick to approach you after only being in Erebor for a week and a half. For the price of following them around at will and answering any scribe-worthy commission they could think of for the next month, they had offered to completely furnish and compensate your life while living in the dwarven kingdom. And how could you have said no to such an offer? You had barely come with enough wealth for yourself!

But soon you were finding yourself to have made a grave mistake. On days when Fíli wasn’t busy on diplomatic matters, he’d summon you for his daily walks where he’d muse about writing rude letters between his friends. At first, you thought the idea was amusing, albeit strange. You questioned his judgement, but nevertheless followed through with his requests, writing letters to people such as Dwalin, Bofur and Nori. At first, it didn’t seem to come to fruition of anything. But you were quickly proven wrong when suddenly you found yourself caught in the throng of a huge fight between such people who had come to Thorin for advice while he and Fíli had been lost in conversation. You had only one mental note from that day forward: never anger a dwarf. It seemed that Fíli, though mindful and royal as he was, had a propensity for wild discourse.

And his brother? Goodness me, he was even worse! Kíli, the youngest dwarven prince of Erebor, was a henchman of chaos himself. At times, it even reminded you of your own youth, though you could not recall being nearly as wild as this. His requests were similar to Fíli’s, but decidedly targeted his whiles to a more heightened scale. Rather than reducing himself to rude letters, he had commissioned you to write scandalous rumor articles that all surrounded a rather dangerous man to make an enemy out of: Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain. At first, you had refused; how could you do such a thing to the one person who could surely banish you from the entire kingdom? But reminding you quickly of your deal, Kíli had been quite insistent, and so you had no choice. And by the gods, you wished you hadn’t; Thorin couldn’t escape whispers and laughter in the halls for three entire days, much to your help! You were lucky he didn’t know who had written such things.

And thus came the conclusion to your first two weeks in Erebor. Only two weeks in, and you were already getting worried of how this new job of yours would reflect on your reputation, especially if you continued to entertain the endeavors of these two princes.

The next week grew to be a slight bit easier, but only when it came to Fíli, who found himself much too busy with princely matters than to find himself using you as an instrument for his grand pranks. You had hoped that through his busy schedule, you could avoid Kíli, but the youngest prince had quite the tenacity for hunting you down. Indeed, it seemed he couldn’t fathom the idea of leaving you alone, for your latest days had been spent with him following you around as he aimlessly threw about silly little ideas for equally insane writings. The same thing was occurring today as well, as you found yourself trying to meander out of the forges and to the library for some peace and quiet.

“Oh, and just think of what mess we could make of Bombur!” He grinned like a cat, and you thought him to be a child. “He’s so easy to rile up, he is. I bet we could even get Bofur in on it.”

“We?” You said, your voice dry. “Please do not make the mistake of binding me together with you. I’m merely doing a job that you paid me to do.”

“Aye, and what a wonderful job that is,” he said smiling, practically beaming at you as you bobbed and weaved through the various working stations of the ironsmiths. “I must start recommending you to others. Or perhaps I won’t, and keep you all to myself.”

You raised a brow at his comment, finding yourself irked. “I didn’t come here to stage pranks, I’ll have you know. I wish to be taken more seriously than simple games.”

“Games?” He mused, laughing. “Does the meaning of the word ‘fun’ escape you?”

This time you turned completely, stopping in your tracks to face him as the heat of the forge grew on your face. You were getting annoyed. It seemed Kíli could see this, and it seemed to only fuel his teasing. “I’m serious,” you said. “When I first arrived, I was writing wonderful love letters. Love letters! All you ever make me write are rude, childish things.”

“Love letters?” He said, his teasing expression dropping for a moment as curiosity replaced it.

“Yes, love letters!” You said. “And I was excited to establish my name on them! But now, I worry that all I’ll be known for are your stupid pranks.”

“Well, tell me more of these letters,” he said. “So that I may get to know your penmanship better.”

You scoffed, walking away. You were getting tired of this man who seemed to adore making fun of you. “Oh please, you don’t actually mean to entertain this conversation. For the last three days, all you’ve done is rile me up with these wild requests of yours! I won’t risk you sullying my name any longer, Kíli.”

“Sullying your name?” He said, chasing after you and out of the forges as you made a beeline for the libraries. “How have I done such a thing?”

You groaned into the air, turning quickly on your heel to seethe at him. Too quickly, mind you, as he clumsily fell right into you, leaving you both to tumble to the floor with a panicked gasp. You expected your head to meet the cold and hard marble of the floor, but found yourself surprised when it met Kíli’s hand, protecting you from the stone. For a moment, mostly out of shock from the moment, you looked at him to find him scanning your face for any sign of pain.

“Are you hurt?” He said, and soon you realized just the predicament you were in. His eyes were worried immensely, and for a second you almost forgot yourself. Almost.

“This is exactly what I mean,” you said with frustration. “First your brother makes me forge letters, then you have me writing scandals, and now we’re both lying on the floor on top of each other! What would someone think, should they see us?”

Seeing you were healthy enough to argue, he sighed, standing up and dusting himself off. “What a lucky dwarf?” He mused, offering his hand to help you up. You refused it, getting up and continuing your trek to the library. “Aw, come on, Y/N!” He called after you. “It was merely a jest!”

“Stop following me!” You said. “I don’t want to see you, and I would rather you leave than force me to resort to cheap tricks to get you to do so!”

“Cheap tricks?” He scoffed. “Of what kind?”

“You think you’re the only one who can think of witty writings? Well, think again,” you boasted. “Just think of the unsavory things I could write about you!” It seemed your threat did well to stop him in his tracks, for soon you stopped hearing his footsteps trailing from behind.

That was a week ago. One week since you blew up at a dwarven prince, one week since you had done any work as a scribe, and one week since the guilt of your attitude began to gnaw at your insides. You knew you had been too harsh; you should’ve just kindly rejected their offer, there had been no need for yelling. But then again, Kíli and his brother could’ve helped a great deal more if they had been more understanding. But how could they have been, anyways? You were a stranger to Erebor, they barely knew you! It seemed it was nobody’s current fault but your own, and the guilt of knowing that was becoming a bit too much.

You had originally planned on apologizing the day after it had happened, but had quickly found yourself sick with a cold; you summed it up to being some sort of penance. In that week, neither of the two dwarven princes had summoned you or requested your presence. A good thing, probably, as you needed the rest to recover, but you worried that it was your previous actions that had led to the halt of communication. Most unfortunate of all was your lack of friends in this new city; in all your time so far, you had been so busy with the princes (especially Kíli) that you hadn’t had much time for putting yourself out there. As a result, there was no one to check on your condition, leaving you to cough and sneeze and blow your nose alone in the silence of your home.

Hours passed by as you drew yourself a bath, weakly tried to clean your bed, and slept away to help your body recover. You weren’t even sure what time it was when you awoke from your nap, but a thin layer of sweat covered you as you tried to move some of the sheets off of you. You felt feverish, as if your body was on fire and ice all at the same time. You were so busy trying to keep yourself warm but not overheated that you hadn’t even heard the soft pounds on the door as you shivered into the bedsheets.

“Y/N?” A distant voice called, but you didn’t have the energy to answer; your voice felt hoarse, like sand. You barely even registered that you had heard it, chalking it up to sleep claiming you once again. And you were happy to give in, desperate even, as you knew your body needed rest.

Soon, your door opened, and a figure approached your side, their soft brown eyebrows furrowing in concern. It looked like Kíli, but there was no way it could be him. He hadn’t summoned you all week, what could’ve changed now? “Y/N,” he said, and you once again figured it to be a dream. “Oh Mahal, no wonder I couldn’t find you. Wait right here.”

He quickly left just as he had appeared, but when he returned, he was armed with a pitcher of water and a cloth. He soaked the cloth before placing it on your forehead, and soon you found it even harder to stay awake. “I’m fine,” you tried to croak out, feeling guilty for whatever poor soul was taking care of you.

“Nonsense, you’re burning up,” he said, refusing to leave your side. “Have you had anything to drink?”

“It’s just a cold,” you tried to explain, worried that you were becoming a burden to whoever this wonderful helper was. Still in your feverish state, you weren’t convinced it was Kíli, thinking him to be a figment of a dream. But the dream-helper wouldn’t relent, quickly pouring a glass of water as they tried to help you sit up in bed.

“Here, this will help,” he said, putting a pillow behind your head and lower back to support you as you now layed in bed on an incline. It certainly felt more comfortable to breathe, but the fever still prevailed and took over your mind. He brought a glass to your lips, and you gingerly opened your mouth as he poured some water into your mouth. It brought a sense of relief as you swallowed it down your throat, cooling you for but a moment. He continued this process of feeding you water until you had downed a third of the cup, which seemed enough to satisfy him as he set the cup down. “How long have you been sick?”

It was now that you were starting to figure that this wasn’t any dream; Kíli, son of Dís, master of your frustration, was taking care of you in your home. “A few days,” you said, your brow furrowing for a second as a cough escaped you. You wanted to ask him why he was here, why he was taking care of you, but words seemed like such a steep hill to climb when it came to your mountain of thoughts right now. Not to mention the fact that sleep was desperately trying to lay claim over your mind, as your eyes kept feeling heavier and heavier. Kíli spoke something else, possibly a question, but you couldn’t tell as you closed your eyes, letting sleep take over your body, the inky blackness calling you from the cooling relief of the cloth on your forehead.

When you next awoke, your room was just as black as your vision had been while you were sleeping; someone had put out the candles, and Kíli was nowhere to be found or seen. Even the cooling rag on your forehead was gone. For a moment, you wondered if him being there had been the dream itself, as some sort of fever-induced lucid dream. You felt your fever was no longer, your body much more at ease. Had it really all been a fever dream? You sat up in bed, feeling much better already as you squinted your eyes to try and peer about your dark room, but the absence of anyone did little to sway your mind. Perhaps it really had all been a dream, then…

But soft knocks on your door challenged that thought as you blinked away the last remnants of sleep. “Mm, come in,” you answered, running a hand through your hair as the door opened, letting a few slivers of light pool into the room. A worried Kíli entered your room, a candlestick  in one of his hands as he shut the door behind him. He came by your bedside as you sat up to meet him, questions still brewing in your head from before. But for now, you bit your tongue, curious as to whether or not he’d answer them himself first.

“How are you feeling?” He said, his eyes scanning your face intensely. You almost felt naked under his gaze, like he was looking into you from afar.

You cleared your throat, letting out a small cough. To this, he was quick to fetch you a glass of water. “Much better now,” you said. “I think my fever has passed, finally.” Gingerly, you took the glass, sipping from it with a skeptical heart.

“That’s good,” he said, nodding. “I’m glad to see you up again, I was worried you’d stay bedridden.”

“And why is that?” You asked, raising a brow. You still weren’t sure what to make of him suddenly taking care of you. He too seemed caught off guard by your question, but it seemed to be more from an obvious standpoint.

“I hadn’t seen you for a week, Y/N,” he said. “Fíli hadn’t heard anything from you. We were both worried something had happened.”

“Like what?” You asked.

He sighed, sitting on the side of your bed now, and you shifted to give him some room, sipping your water to get some fluids in your body. “When we last spoke, you had wished not to see me. You had said I was sullying your name… I was worried that you were right, and that someone had gotten to you from the letters.”

Now it was your turn to be caught off guard. “Are you serious?” You tried to hold back a snort. “Did you think me to be kidnapped? From writing rumors about your uncle being shorter than he says?” You couldn’t hold it back anymore, letting out a laugh. Who knew the wild prince was softer than he seemed.

Kíli’s ears turned red at your questions, now realizing he had jumped to conclusions. “Well, if it was anyone’s fault then it would be yours for putting such ideas in my head. Why would you call them silly if you were so angry about them then?”

You slowly started to settle back down. “They weren’t ideas, you know,” you said. “I meant what I said about refusing to write your ‘silly’ requests anymore. I won’t do it.”

“And I won’t make you, nor will Fíli,” he nodded. “Besides, Thorin keeps him busy enough these days.”

“So why did you stay?” You asked.

“What do you mean?” He said.

“So you thought I was kidnapped,” you said. “And you came to my home and found me sick. But instead of leaving, why did you care for me?”

He grew flustered again, deflecting the question. “Would you have preferred I leave you to rot in bed?”

“I was already doing that on my own, thank you.” You said. “But I wouldn’t think you’d offer to help so easily after our argument.”

“I wanted to apologize,” he admitted. “I felt guilty and wanted to see you back to health. A life for a lie.”

“It’s a life for a life,” you corrected. “And that’s not how the saying is used.”

“Fine, I’ll admit it. I was worried for you.” He looked away, running a hand through his hair before meeting your gaze again. “I didn’t want you to get worse.”

“I see,” you said, taking a breath. You bit the inside of your cheek, knowing you’d have to swallow your pride and admit what you didn’t want to. But you were bigger than your pettiness, at least in this moment you were. You reached your hand out to place it over his, which seemed to startle the poor dwarf as he looked at you with a wondrous gaze.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said. “And I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I shouldn’t have been so harsh, and I didn’t mean it when I said I’d write awful things about you.”

Now it was his turn to chuckle. “I’m surprised you hadn’t done so already,” he said.

“Well, I’ve been a little preoccupied,” you sighed. “But I’m serious about no longer writing pranks. I want to be taken more seriously, I deserve some respect.”

“You deserve much more than that, Y/N,” he said, and it made you lose your breath for a moment. Since when did his words steal your breath? “And I too would like to apologize. I won’t force you to write anything you don’t like any longer, so long as we remain friends.”

“Friends,” you smiled. “Yes, I’d like that.”

calling all fíli and kíli writers!

author's note: that's right, I'm talking to you little rats. I'm doing a kinktober! wow, who would've thought. I encourage all writers for the dwarven brothers to join me as we repopulate this hellsite with some spicy fíli and kíli fanfics (because we all know there's barely any). to the bingo card!

for each request I get using this card, another dwarven fanfic plagues this site for all to read and absorb. let's get into it!