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We Will Meet Again

(Haldir x reader)

-Part 2-

Warnings: None that I can think of

Word Count: 718

When I gained consciousness the first thing that I noticed was how bright it was. I opened my eyes and blinked a few times for my sensitive eyes to adjust. 'A healing ward.' I thought to myself when I finally looked at my surroundings. "Ah, good you are awake my lady, we were afraid you would not live through the night. How are you feeling?" Said an ellon with caramel eyes and light blonde hair, who I assumed was the healer that treated me. "Yes I am well, just a little sore is all." I answered. The ellon walked closer. "Good. I'm just going to check your wound and then you will be able to see your friends." Nodding, I sat up in my cot. "What is your name?" I asked while he handed me a cloth to cover my upper body while he checked my wound. "Oh! I'm terribly sorry, my name is Nestaron my lady. And you are (Y/N)." I smiled and nodded my head slightly in greeting. "Nestaron, has the elleth awaken ye-." The healer turned around and greeted the soldier who saved my life. "Haldir, yes as you can see I'm checking the healing progress of her wound now, if you would just give me a moment." I turned slightly to look at the ellon I now knew as Haldir. He was looking at my half naked form in surprise and a hint of embarrassment. "Yes, I-I... I will wait for you outside my lady." He bowed quickly with his eyes to the floor and walked out of the room. I smiled to myself. 'He's cute when he blushes.' I shook my head from those thoughts. I didn't need to be thinking about how he looked.

Once Nestaron did a once over of my wound he let me leave the healing ward. I walked out into the hall to see Haldir leaning against the wall opposite to the doorway I stood in. He looked up at the sound of my light footsteps. "I see you are well?" He asked with a straight face as if what happened earlier had no affect on him. I laughed to myself and answered. "Indeed. I suppose I owe you my thanks for saving my life." The corner of is lips twitched into what I assumed would have been a smile. "There is no need. I simply did my duty as March Warden." I grinned slightly at this. "Well, thank you none the less." He nodded then stretched his right arm out to the right with is palm facing upward toward the exit of the healing ward. "I will take you to your company and then we shall head to Minas Tirith to meet with the Lord and Lady." I walked forward and we began our walk to the rest of the Fellowship.

I could hear Aragon speaking with Legolas when me and Haldir were close to our destination. We turned passed a large tree to see the company resting and conversing about topics unknown to me. I was glad to see my friends again. I realized that I could have died and I would have never seen the people I cared for again. I could not do that to them, we had already lost Gandalf and I would not want to add more grief. My thoughts were interrupted by two small Hobbits. "(Y/N)!!! You’re okay, Pippin yelled, We thought you were dead." Added Merry. I smiled down at the cousins and laughed. "It will take a lot more to get rid of me my friends." Haldir smirked at this from my side. They grinned more and hugged me tighter. Legolas was the next to approach me. He put his hands on my face and placed is forehead against mine. "I am very grateful to see you well melon." With my hands on his wrists I smiled lightly. Legolas was the closest thing I had to a brother and I was very lucky to have him. "Aye I'm happy to see you as well." Without me seeing, Haldir was irked by the close proximity of Legolas, but quickly masked it. 'Why am I suddenly angered by him being close to someone I've just met.' Haldir thought to himself.

𝒯𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓊𝑒𝒹

“getting handsy”

author’s note: hey everyone! this is my first piece, so I'm pretty stoked about it :))) just to clarify, this is a slightly different AU in which you possess the elven blades Gandalf and the gang find in the troll's cave (everything else storyline-wise is relatively the same, though). this took me two nights to write, mostly because i kept getting so excited to write it that i couldn’t sleep! it was originally supposed to be an assassin Y/N with the tagline being “getting handsy?” but that derailed as i wrote this so who knows! maybe i’ll write another with the original idea! anyways, let me know what you think! also, this was originally going to be two parts, with second being a little more smutty. let me know if y’all still want that!

Pairing: Kíli / Gender-neutral Human Reader

Word Count: 4,039

summary: despite unwillingly joining Thorin’s company at the suggestion of Gandalf, it seems the cheeky brown-haired dwarf prince who disarmed you is slowly growing on you

content warnings: fluff, bruises, suggestive language and a little flirting, angry dwarves, mentions of a village being burnt down, honestly it’s from the lotr franchise so i’m just gonna go ahead and label it PG-13, y’all know what you’re expecting

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

It had been a long three days of traveling east, the heat and wind reminding you of simpler times when bathing was a luxury; for you see, you had been carrying precious artifacts with you in order to sell it to a buyer just past the Carrock, towards Mirkwood. While the artifacts had no real use to you, you wondered curiously of what your buyer could want with three Elven blades, and why they needed it so urgently that you haven’t even the time to wash the wind from your hair. I mean, come on: after orcs, goblins, and foul-breathed men, you were supposed to guard these swords with your life?

Truth be told, that was the way of life you had come to know for the past three years; a life of smuggling, a life of delivery, and ultimately, a lonely life. But there was no room for relationships of any kind when you were known well for your messenger capabilities. Various parties, all of devious backgrounds, would seek you out to deliver messages, goods, and once, even a prisoner. It was by their tongues that you were known well as The Untouchable, a moniker you had gained after seemingly cheating death 5 times to deliver a set of precious jewels to an Elven king. And as such, people believed you to be untouchable by even Death himself, though you wouldn’t necessarily agree. As a matter of fact, a part of you wondered if you were growing less fond of your uncommon occupation; the past three years had already worn you dull at times. But then again, you hadn’t a clue of what you’d do if it weren’t for these recent gigs.

And so you continued your passage to the east, towards the mountains and ultimately Mirkwood. The sun had set just moments ago, and you knew you had to seek shelter soon; traveling at night had become increasingly more dangerous these past few months, for reasons unknown to you. And while you weren’t excited to make camp in the Trollshaws, it seemed safer than continuing along the East-West Road into the murky night.

It didn’t take long for you to set up camp, keeping yourself inside the hollow of an old tree to avoid thieves in the night from finding you and trying to covet what isn’t even yours. These swords had been more trouble than they were worth during your journey. You couldn’t tell what was so special about them, besides the fact that they were oddly light to hold, and incredibly stronger than you first had thought, using one of them to chop up firewood a few nights ago. Night set in, and your thoughts began to slow as sleep overcame your tired body.

You were suddenly stirred from your sleep as you heard a group of shouts coming from the edge of the woods. Your head snapped up, your body jolted awake despite the fatigue of your trek, and your hand carefully hovered over one of the Elven blades as you listened closely, discerning whether or not it was a threat to you. What time was it? The moon still slept in the sky and yet it seemed a lighter blue than when you had first fallen asleep in your oaken hideout. Was it soon to be morning? You crept carefully closer in the direction of the voices, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on edge as you tried to clear your mind and even your breaths, uneven from your rather rude awakening.

Creeping ever closer, you could finally see between thick-leaved trees that some mountain trolls had made camp, the screaming coming from their assumed dinner as your gaze shifted to the fourteen men tied up in short brown sacks, the sacks comically tied around their necks, giving them only their voices. Dwarves, you could tell, mostly from the impeccably-groomed beards but also from their sheer temperament. It seemed an even-smaller man (Perhaps a hobbit? But what would he be doing so far from the Shire?) was standing in his sack, desperately trying to convince the trolls not to eat them. You sighed to yourself, glad that the screaming hadn't proven to be a threat to you, but rather to their own misfortune.

A part of you wondered if you should intervene, though you weren't entirely sure what you could do; you were more adept at preventing your own death, not so much at saving others from it. But still unsure, you chose to at least see if anything would happen; after all, daylight would soon be upon you all. Perhaps if you could cut a tree down as a distraction? But there was no telling how long that would take...

Unbeknownst to you, amidst all of the yelling, a certain white-bearded dwarf had caught his eyes to you, squinting to see if you were friend or foe (Not that it mattered, considering they were about to die).

Soon, just as you had figured there was nothing you could do, especially against three mountain trolls, a giant cracking could be heard, and the troll's camp was flooded with the sun's early morning light. The trolls quickly turned to stone, and cheers were heard as the dwarves began helping each other out of their bindings. Chatter was heard amongst themselves, and a small breath of relief slipped past your lips. Making out the silhouette, you quickly recognized who stood atop the cracked stone, and knew you'd have to slip away soon lest you be caught.

"Masters, I believe we're still not alone," the white-haired dwarf spoke, and you muttered a swear under your breath. It was time to go.

"I believe you're right, Master Balin. Who are you, hiding in the trees?" The grey wizard called out, stepping closer and bringing the dwarves' attention with him. Fuck. You'd been found, and the risk of being chased if you ran worried you more than revealing yourself. And so, with careful steps and outstretched arms, you approached from behind the tree.

"Gandalf," you smiled. "It's been some time, old friend. Miss me much?"

The smallest man, who you now knew to be a hobbit from his feet, gave the wizard a perplexed look. "I'm sorry, you know this person?"

The wizard let out a wise chuckle. "Why yes, Master Baggins, this is the Untouchable Y/N. And what are you doing spying on our company?" He lit his pipe, smiling.

"Yes, I'd like to ask the same," another dwarf spoke, this time coming from the stoic one with gorgeous black hair. "I hear tales of your smuggling and thievery, so what brings you right to us?"

You cast a skeptical look to the black-haired dwarf, not liking his distrustful glare. "I'm no thief, just a messenger. My business is not with you. I merely worried for your safety."

"Worried? Only to watch us be eaten?" The white-haired dwarf, who you now knew was Balin, seemed to also be skeptical of you, but his gaze was less hateful than that of his companion.

"Now, now, let's settle down. Y/N is no threat to you all, that I can assure you." Gandalf puffed his pipe, pointing it at you. "They're the reason we have Master Baggins here with us, after all."

"I'm sorry, uh, what now?" The hobbit cast his gaze to you, still perplexed. "They did what?"

"I had asked them to accompany us as our burglar first, but they turned me down." The wizard drew another breath from his pipe.

You sighed, rolling your eyes at the old sorcerer. "I'm a messenger, not a thief. As stated before," you cast a glare at the black-hair dwarf. "I have business elsewhere."

The black-haired dwarf turned his glare to Gandalf now. "You told this human of our quest?"

A musing 'hm' left the grey man's lips. "Master Thorin, I can promise you that your secret is safe with Y/N. They're not the kind to tell their friends."

You scoffed. "If I had friends to speak of, no thanks to you, old man." You crossed your arms, looking to Thorin. "And since I have to keep repeating myself, I'm already busy. I've no time for meddling with dwarves and dragons, not to mention everything in between."

"And what do you have time for, Y/N?" Gandalf mused.

Meanwhile, Thorin had trudged off, gathering his men and their belongings once more since being sacked.

You sighed, showing your back. "I've to deliver these blades to a buyer near Mirkwood. No idea who it is, though; only a letter telling me where to find the blades and where to bring them." What you didn't mention was that you had found them in a troll-hoard, next to a pile of skeletons. You decided that was all the information you would give the clever wizard, not wanting to disclose all of your secrets to people who already didn't seem too keen to be near you.

"Hm, may I see them?" He asked gingerly, raising a brow at you. It seemed like always, Gandalf was curious of what you were up to. And not wanting to raise any unnecessary suspicion, you obliged.

You handed him the two swords off of your back, not disclosing that the third blade, a dagger, lay hidden underneath your clothes in your chest. Better safe than sorry when you're with… troublesome company.

Unsheathing each blade, Gandalf drew in a breath. "My dear Y/N, do you have any idea what these are?" He showed the blade's detail to you, just as Thorin began to approach you two. "These were forged in Gondolin by the High Elves of the First Age."

Upon hearing this, Thorin scoffed, to which the wizard was quick to cut him off. "You could not wish for a finer blade!" His scowl softened back as he turned to you again. "Here, keep them safe."

You nodded, taking back the blades as you threw them back on your back; a part of you cursed yourself for not knowing their true power. Nothing was stopping you from keeping one to yourself…

Thorin looked to Gandalf, beckoning him away. "Come, we must make use of the daylight; we haven't much time to waste." The wizard looked at you, and all you could see were the gears turning in his head.

"Y/N, join us on our journey," he offered, much to Thorin's disgust.

"Gandalf, I already told you I'm-"

"Busy, yes. But we're both heading the same direction, are we not?" He looked at you and Thorin, who looked you up and down before sighing.

"Don't slow us down." He spoke before you could even get a word in. "Kíli, take their weapons," he beckoned a dark-brown-haired dwarf over, one that bore a little resemblance to him, much to your dismay.

“Excuse me? What for?” You spoke up, offended by the notion. Thorin simply looked you up and down, speaking with disgust.

“If you travel with us, you do it without that Elven filth on you.”

“Master Thorin, need I remind you-“ Gandalf tried to intercept, but was cut off.

“They may be fine blades, that I trust. What I don’t trust is a stranger joining us with such fine weapons. You’ll get them back once we part.” Thorin clarified, motioning to the brown-haired dwarf once again. “Kíli, their weapons.”

You sighed after seeing Gandalf’s defeated gaze. Fine, there was nothing to be done. Of course, you could always travel alone; you were good at taking care of yourself already on such travels, but the chance of safer lodging with Gandalf persuaded you to stay. Kíli approached you, offering a nod of acknowledgment before removing the swords on your back. You held your arms out as he patted your sleeves, moving up until he reached the third blade. Well, the secret was out. Great.

He struggled to remove the blade without undoing part of your tunic, causing you to scoff and roll your eyes, but you maintained a slight smile. “Getting handsy, are we?” You looked down at the dwarf, who grew red at your comment, clearing his throat.

“I’m usually more polite,” he chirped back, much to your surprise.

“By all means, take your time. I’m sure Thorin will appreciate it,” you retorted sarcastically. After a few more pats, Kíli cleared his throat once more, handing the two swords to Balin to carry, and pocketing the dagger at his side. Greedy man.

But finally, you were off, stuck to tag along for sake of convenience versus pleasure.

Screw safety! Joining them had proven more stress than it was worth as you had been chased down by wargs and orcs and narrowly missed death yet again after thinking you’d be trapped in a cave! And all the while, you had still been denied your weapons, with Kíli and Balin instructed to keep them from you; at this point, it felt out of spite. You assumed your only luck came from Gandalf knowing the way to Rivendell, much to Thorin’s chagrin. But even among your own frustrations, you could not deny the beauty of such a city. It was practically glowing and beaming with light, as was the nature of Elves, and Lord Elrond’s hospitality brought relief to your aching bones. A meal! A warm bed! And most importantly, a bath!

However, your comrades (if you could even call the strangers that) seemed less than impressed with the feast offered to you all. Dwalin and Oín seemed the most disgusted by the array of leafy greens and hearty vegetables, but your hunger quickly guided your tongue in chiding them.

“Oh, hush! Don’t tell me you’d rather starve?” You rolled your eyes, earning a look from the two in question. Oín rolled his own eyes back at you, refusing to address your retort.

“Have they got any chips?” He asked, looking between Bofur and Dwalin again. You had learned some of their names from Thorin’s commanding shouts as you all had outran the orcs, and it was making your trip a little less confusing at the very least.

After a bit of eating, you noticed Kíli winking at one of the Elves around you. He seemed cheekier than he had been when he had disarmed you, and you were curious if this was the real him. A thief and a flirt.

“I can’t say I fancy elf maids myself,” he said to his companions. “Too thin. They’re all high cheekbones and creamy skin. Not enough facial hair for me. Although, that one there’s not bad.”

You almost had the urge to call him out, but were beaten to the punch by Dwalin, who made it known that the Elf in question was no woman, but a man. You choked back a chortle as the table erupted into laughter, meanwhile Kíli sat in his awkward shame, admitting the humor of the situation. You cleared your throat, adding in a chuckle.

“Well don’t be ashamed! Go on then, don’t be shy. Tell us about his ‘creamy skin’, eh?” You laughed, and Kíli shot you a small smirk, waving a hand to dismiss your comment.

You had long finished your meal, the group beginning to divide into smaller ones as the men decided whether to go to their rooms or wander about. Thorin and Gandalf were still busy with Lord Elrond, and by the looks of it, you figured you had enough time to bathe. You left the dining hall (though the space was so open, you were unsure if ‘hall’ was even the right word to use) to hunt down your room, hoping to find a towel of some sort.

Now, while you knew you were sharing a room, you had forgotten your bunkmates, it seems. Yes, you remembered that Bilbo and the blonder dwarf brother were sharing your quarters, but you were caught off guard to open the door and see Kíli on his side in bed, facing away from you. He hadn’t stirred when you opened the door, and so you wondered if he was asleep.

Now’s the chance, you thought as you crept closer to his sleeping form. You had been wondering how you’d get your blades back, and now seemed as good as any opportunity to try. And so you stepped closer as quietly as you could until you were leaning over his sleeping form; his eyes were closed, so you were assured that he was sleeping. With ginger hands, you delicately reached for the hilt of the blade, which was tucked into the belt of his tunic. Carefully, you held your breath as you raised his belt to try and free your blade and spring it free…

“And I’m the handsy one?” His eyes shot open and you jumped back, eyes wide with shock as you realized he had been awake the entire time. He sat up, chuckling with a cheeky smirk as he looked at your figure in the dimly-lit room. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I swear.”

You bit your tongue, slightly angry. “Don’t accuse me of trying to bed you, I merely want what’s mine.” You spoke curtly, trying to hide the venom and embarrassment of being caught.

“Oh? But I thought this was someone else’s blade? Didn’t you say you were just doing a delivery? Just a messenger?” He taunted, scratching the stubble on his chin. A part of you didn’t want to admit it, but now that you were much closer and actually paying attention, he was quite handsome. A bit scruff, but otherwise beautiful. You hated that you thought of him like that, especially right now as he was teasing you.

“Which means that my job is to hold on to such deliveries, not you. Just give it back and spare me your mockery.” You crossed your arms, frustrated.

“I mean not to mock you,” He shook his head, now standing up. “But my uncle would have my backside if I returned your effects, I’m afraid.”

You groaned, wanting to escape the presence of this rather handsome-but-annoying dwarf. “Fine. I’m leaving.” You stepped away, rummaging through the storage closet in the room as you grabbed a towel before leaving, heading for the baths.

You stormed out of your shared room and into the bathhouse, thanking some unknown entity that they were empty and steaming. You sighed as you set your things down nearby, careful of your bruises as you undressed yourself and heaving a sigh of frustration as you did so. Gods, the nerve of that dwarf! Pretending to be asleep, keeping what was yours (even though it wasn’t) and having the gall to smirk about the whole thing?! It was easier (and much more therapeutic) to feel angry about it all instead of actually admitting your embarrassment.

And so, with flushed ears and a warmer temper, you stepped into the warm and misty waters of the bathhouse, a groan slipping past your lips as your body throbbed before being soothed by the healing waters. You drew in a deep breath through your nose, a pleasant smile gracing your lips as the scent of rosemary and mint met your nostrils. Finally, you could wash off the journey and hopefully your frustration as well. You sighed, happy to finally have one decent night of rest and relief; you made a mental note to thank Gandalf later, despite the rough journey that got you here.

Time passed and you weren’t entirely sure how long you had been here, though the urge to sink further into the pool crossed your mind more than once. How long had it been, an hour? Maybe more? You figured you were fine to soak more if your group was still staying the night, but your mind replayed the question more, making you worried. What if everyone left later? In any case, you deemed it best to hurry up, grateful for the time you had already spent in the steamy bathhouse. Letting your hair down, you sunk lower into the water, as you had decided you would wash your hair last. You soaked your head, running your fingers through your scalp as you massaged the wind and rain and dirt from your locks, humming in satisfaction of the feeling it gave you.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps approaching; ducking your body into the water until nothing but your head remained above, you squinted your eyes towards the doorway, trying to peer through the steam to discern your approaching company. And to your surprise, the same cheeky dwarf from earlier emerged through the steam, looking around until his eyes caught yours; quickly realizing you were bathing, his eyes widened and he quickly turned around, offering you some privacy.

“Sorry!” He said, clearing his throat. “I was asked to come find you, it seems that Elf Lord will help us read our map.”

You held in a smirk of your own at his embarrassed tone, feeling a small sort of revenge from it. “And am I needed to attend?”

He nodded, “Uncle told me that Gandalf had asked you to be there. That’s all I know.”

“Uncle?” You questioned. “Thorin, I presume?”

He nodded again; you had guessed that earlier based on his reaction to trying to take back your blade.

You sighed. “Well, alright. I suppose if he asked for me…” You stood up, your back facing him as you worried he would try to peek.

“Have you been friends long? You and Gandalf, I mean.” His question came after he could hear you dressing yourself, catching you off guard. You hadn’t expected him to be curious, perhaps you had judged him wrongly earlier. You chuckled as memories came back to you.

“Yes, for a few years now. He met me before I was a messenger, and is the reason I went down this path. Though I wouldn’t say his presence is always welcoming; if there’s one thing that old wizard summons, it’s trouble. He’s reckless.” Though your tone was firm, you couldn’t help the smile forming on your lips.

Gandalf had met you before you started any of your adventures, finding you in your hometown and setting you on the path of a delivery-man after your village had been burned to the ground.

“I see,” he spoke, nodding with a slight hum as you finished dressing yourself. “You sound like my mother.”

“I’m sorry?” You raised a brow.

“My mother says the same thing about me; that I’m reckless, and stir up too much trouble.” He chuckled to himself, caught wistfully in his own memory.

You finished getting dressed, your hand touching his shoulder to acknowledge him as you stood behind him. He flinched only slightly, not expecting the touch as he turned and faced you, looking to your eyes. “Oh? Well, I can’t say I wouldn’t disagree, but are you?” You asked.

“Nah,” He shook his head with a small smile, his eyes softening as he looked up at you. For a moment, your cheeks flushed as his stare continued for a moment of silence. “Listen, about earlier, I-“

“It’s fine, I’m the one who should apologize,” You cut him off. “Besides, I’d rather save the trouble of fighting a dwarf over a sword that isn’t mine.”

He smiled, “I must say, while I have no inclination to fight you either, I enjoyed your adventurous efforts earlier.”

You flushed again, thankful the steam hid the true details of both of you. Clearing your throat, you shook your head. “I suppose you’re to lead me to Gandalf?”

He chuckled, nodding his head. “Yes, alright. They’re waiting on us anyways… not that I exactly mind keeping them waiting.” He had muttered the last part under his breath but your keen ears caught it. Smiling to yourself, you tucked some loose hair away as you walked through the Elven halls. All of your frustration from earlier had subsided for a moment, though truthfully it shouldn’t have been directed at Kíli if at all; his uncle was definitely higher on your blacklist.

“Perhaps I don’t mind either,” you whispered under your breath. For however short or long your journey with this man would be, a part of you was interested to see how much you’d enjoy it.

proofread by @v1olentdelights <3

“kisses and fireworks”

author’s note: happy new year everyone! I'm so excited to go into 2023, I feel like things can only go up from here :D and while I'm feeling very hopeful and optimistic, I figured I'd write a little treat to commemorate the new year with the classic tradition of a new year’s kiss! I hope you all enjoy :)

Pairing: Kíli / Gender-neutral Human Reader

Word Count: 5,165

summary: Finally being able to witness the majesty of Erebor on the anniversary of Durin’s Day was already enough for your hungry heart, but maybe there was more to these mountain halls than just architecture...

content warnings: Post-BOTFA, Everyone Lives! AU, knives, fireworks

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

Five years. That’s how long it had taken to rebuild Erebor from the aftermath of Smaug’s conquest, to rebuild Dale into the prosperous city it once was, and for the rich trade of Laketown to return. Five whole years. And in those five years, news of Thorin Oakenshield had spread like wildfire; people gathered to tell stories of his great journey and monumental accomplishments. He was like a dwarven god, a figment of heroism built upon a true and very real legacy. Portraits were made of him, and the great city of Dale had even erected a statue in his honor. He was the picture of dwarven royalty; a hard-worn and steely gaze followed by an aura of immense power and dignity. You had come to know his face well, catching tales of the stories all the way in The Angle. In fact, it was for that reason you had journeyed east of your home, hoping to see the majesty of Erebor for yourself. Your journey took place on the fifth anniversary of Erebor’s reclamation.

Now, it had been ten years since Smaug’s demise, and five years since your own journey. When you had originally traveled east, you had come to find out through merchants in Laketown that the dwarven kingdom of Erebor prohibited outsiders from entering, save for the few dignitaries of Men and Elves that had aided Erebor in their time of need. Despite being let down by this, your determination hadn’t been swayed. Onward, you pressed on, eventually settling down in Dale for the better half of the last few years. Keeping a trade, you had gotten into smithing, setting up a small shop for yourself where you crafted decorated chains and knives of silver steel. You were known for your highly-detailed decorative work, especially when it came to hilts of blades. And for a while, you were satisfied with your new life you had made for yourself. But as days went on, you often wondered if there was any chance to see more than simple daydreams of the proud dwarven kingdom.

And just your luck, there was! News spread fast throughout Dale of a banquet to be held in the massive halls of Erebor, and the invitation had been extended to anyone who wished to come. You all but jumped in delight at the thought that after all this time, you’d finally see the great city-kingdom. More news of the banquet came to pass, and you wasted no time in finding a suitable outfit. It would be held on Durin’s Day, the anniversary of Thorin’s company reclaiming Erebor with the death of Smaug, and would commemorate the tenth year of Erebor’s reclamation. Another new and prosperous year was to be celebrated, and you had even heard word that Gandalf the Grey would be conjuring up fireworks for the spectacle. How excited you were to see a wizard! How excited you were to see Erebor! You were so wildly excited for this, wondering what could possibly lie beyond those bedrock gates. Perhaps you would even meet a jeweler who would be willing to supply you gems for your craft! Oh, it felt like the possibilities were truly endless.

The next few days, as Durin’s Day was merely a week away, seemed to whizz by rather quickly. Within two days, you had already found your outfit: a billowing cream-white tunic tucked into a long brown skirt, which was embellished with silver embroidery along the seams and edges. Bringing everything in together was a quilted green vest, also embroidered with silver thread resembling leaves. You decided this would be a fine opportunity to showcase your handiwork, and so all your jewelry was your own: a thin bronze band engraved with feathers on your right hand, a delicate silver chain adorning your neck with a blue pendant, and a chain belt of shining bronze wrapped around your waist, with the metal peppered in decorative carvings. It was modest, surely, but you felt regal enough to grin every time you caught yourself admiring your silhouette in a mirror.

Two more days passed, and you had found yourself busy with your latest order: three knives, all sisters, and all to be made with your finest work. The customer, a young dwarrowdam named Bralva, had insisted the knives be prepared and finished before the banquet. You would’ve refused the order for the lack of time if she hadn’t promised to reward you handsomely. Fueled by the notion that you would need to buy new tools soon, you had taken her on.

“But what for, if I may ask?” You were perplexed by her need to rush. “For Durin’s Day? I thought weapons wouldn’t be allowed at such a banquet.”

“Oh Mahal, no!” Bralva chided. “They’re not for me, dear. Ten years I’ve waited to see my homeland again, and I won’t risk the chance to not marry well into Durin’s line while I’m at it! I plan on offering them to the king and princes, in hopes I marry off.”

“Marriage?” You scoffed. “At a celebration of a new year?”

“You think of me as a joke, but I know what I’m doing,” she insisted. “All three royals of Erebor sit unmarried as it stands. With gifts such as these, I’m bound to make my presence known well!”

You simply laughed her off, not wanting to risk insulting her and therefore lose a customer. “Alright, alright, then I wish you well, Miss. But how can you be so willing to marry a stranger?”

“It’s a new year, dear. How can you be so unaccepting of wishful thinking? Besides, banquets like these are such romantic places to find love. Or lust…” She muttered the last bit, her cheeks glowing as rosy as her magnificent beard from thinking such thoughts.

That was the last you had seen her in all her glory, and since then you had been set to work on making the most exquisite knives you had crafted yet. Now, on whether or not they’d be worthy of a royal marriage, you weren’t sure. But you would damn well try your hardest! You had immediately gotten to work on the blades once she left, and spent the next two days working on the hilts with such a ferocious intensity and tenacity that by the time she came to collect them on the morning of Durin’s Day, you were exhausted. Sleep tugged at your undereyes and you were in desperate need of a shower.

“My, the skill! I dare say you have almost the talent of a dwarf! ” Bralva cheered, holding one of the delicate blades up to her face for a better look. And, just as promised, you had indeed been rewarded quite handsomely, with a pouch full of gold pieces in your hands. Unfortunately, in your exhaustion, you had missed her compliment and only picked up on her muttering about dwarven princes and marriage.

“Hm? Oh, yes, of course,” you mused in your sleepy stupor.

“My dear, I hope you intend to bathe before tonight,” she chuckled, waving a hand at your disheveled appearance. “Luck will not be on your side if this is to be your attire!”

You sighed, casting a quick glance in the mirror. By the gods, she was right. You shrugged her off, letting out a tired groan. “I’ll be fine, there’s still a whole rest of the day before the banquet tonight. Besides, luck should favor you more if you plan to be wed so soon.”

She blushed at your words, giggling to herself. “But still! You are young, and you won’t get any younger! Take it from an old dwarrow, my dear.”

“Old?” You scoffed, running a hand through your hair to get it out of your face as you got a better look at her. “Look at you! You’re so beautiful and young, yourself! How old can you possibly be?”

“A woman never tells her age,” she chuckled, leaning in. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “But if you must know, I’m to be 183 soon.”

You bit your tongue from cursing in shock. It seemed you had forgotten the differences in life spans between man and dwarf. “What? Surely you jest!”

Again, you were graced with a blushing and smiling Bralva. “Still, my dear, don’t refuse love to come to you! Who knows, with three single royals, maybe we’ll both end up with one!” She winked, and you silently hoped she’d buy your wares again in the future. She was cheekily amusing, and good gossip and entertainment was hard to come by when you were always holed up to work on your chains and knives.

“Well how am I to know if I’m in the presence of a prince?” You leaned in, humoring her despite the slight ache in your back. Once you wrapped up with her, you were intent on taking a nap after a vigorous bath. “I hardly think they’d be impressed by me, after all.”

“Well, your looks are certainly considered more… unorthodox to most dwarves, and considering you’re not a dwarf yourself…” She trailed off, realizing that maybe she hadn’t fully meant it when she jested about you both marrying off. “But nevermind that! The princes are as strong as they are young! Too young for me, I'm sure, but I’ll certainly still try!” She gave another wink, and you chuckled, realizing she still hadn’t answered your question.

“Yes, but I’ve only seen portraits of King Thorin. How will I know which ones are the princes?” You smiled, enjoying the conversation. It was nice to talk to someone after working for three days straight.

“Well, they both have the same powerful looks as they’re uncle, that’s for sure. I myself haven’t seen them, but I’ve heard tales that the oldest one carries beautiful metal beads in his mustache braids, and he’s skilled with swords and knives! He’s a natural warrior, he is!”

“And the other?”

“I’ve heard less of him, only that he once took a Morgul shaft and survived, and that he cannot grow a beard,” She sighed, muttering. “Poor thing.”

“Surely you know more about these two than their beards, or lack thereof?” You scoffed.

“I know enough to gift them your beautiful work! That’s all I need!” She grinned, boasting. “And speaking of which, I’ve got to go get ready! Time moves quickly when corsets and gowns are involved, my dear. Take care!”

You waved as she left, saying your own goodbyes, and soon as she was out of your eyesight, you immediately closed up shop. If she was already getting ready and it was still morning, it seemed you’d need to hurry yourself as well.

Hours passed, and after bathing yourself and falling asleep in the bath, you deemed yourself hygienically appropriate for a banquet. The dirt and grease from your trade had been scrubbed off, your hair now brushed and freshly cleaned, and you smelled more like a normal person and less like a furnace. A job well done, I’d say! Now, all that was left was to get ready for the night.

Now, while you hadn’t planned on arriving particularly early, you were mildly annoyed with yourself and how late you had become. Bralva was right to mention getting ready takes time; you had spent a whole hour trying to do something with you hair! Eventually, you settled with wearing it down and peppering it with small braids hidden within the tresses.

The trek from Dale to Erebor wasn’t terribly long, and it was more of a hike than a trek, as the path was already lit with torches that beckoned visitors into the night mountain fortress. You couldn’t help the excitement you felt, which pressured your feet to walk faster as you tried not to practically run to the mountain. Oh, Erebor! Finally, you would see if all the legends of its majesty you had heard were true!

As you stepped into the halls of the mountain, you couldn’t help but gawk in awe of the architecture. Hell, you had thought Dale to be lovely and beautiful, but even the glorious city not too far away now paled in comparison to the extravagance of Erebor. Glittering gold accented every wall, every pillar, every carving into the darkened stone of the mountain. Each shadow in the halls cast a green glow about the place, luring you in like a moth drawn to flame. It was enchanting, alluring, and breathtaking. And despite finding yourself taller than almost all of the folk around you, you looked up at the terrifically high-vaulted ceilings of the mountain and found yourself feeling small. The ceilings themselves were beautiful as well, gems glittering in the mountain-rock that even underground, it felt like you were stargazing.  

After minutes passed by of you taking in the scenery, you found yourself being led deeper into the mountain halls where the true festivities began. In one of Erebor’s many great halls, it seemed the banquet had been going for quite some time already (which made sense, after all you hadn’t exactly been on time). Tables filled with sweet meats and good drink with an endless amount of laughter and drunken shenanigans, and the back of the hall served as a ballroom, where many regal-looking dwarrowdams were seeking the attention of any young dwarrow who they deemed fit to dance with. A part of you wondered where Bralva might have wandered off to. At the very head of this hall lay a large stone table littered with delicacies and fine wines, fit with four grand thrones behind it. You only recognized one of the two seated at the table: Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain. Next to him sat a dwarrowdam of immense beauty, her beard beautifully braided down her dress. She shared the same steely gaze as the king, and you wondered if they were related. The two thrones on each side of them sat empty, and you assumed that meant that the princes were off somewhere.

Eager to dip your toes into the culture and wonder of Erebor, you quickly made your way down to the tables to fetch yourself a bottle of ale, finding the taste as delicious as it was potent. You wandered around the outskirts of the hall, snacking on foods here and there and occasionally being dragged in to dance with random strangers that beckoned you onto the dance floor. And how could you not? It was the celebration of a new year! And what a mighty celebration it was, as your night quickly began getting filled by being whisked onto the dance floor by men and women alike. Amidst the dancing bodies and jigs being played, you spotted Bralva merrily along, and eagerly returned an exciting wave. She was bladeless, which meant she had successfully completed part of her mission: gifting the royalty your best works. It was an honor, really, and you wish you could have seen their reactions. Better yet, you wondered how much more of Erebor you could see before the night ended, considering you weren’t sure whether the kingdom would remain open to all after tonight’s feasting. If you snuck off of the ballroom floor right now, there was still a chance you could sneak into the kingdom’s halls scot-free with none the wiser.

And so, armed with your second bottle of ale (not that you needed more, you were already starting to feel tipsy), you snuck out of the great banquet’s hall and found yourself meandering through the dark stone corridors, lit only by torches. It began to seem to you that a place like this would be impossible to live in. Hardly anything was marked, every hallway looked the same, and no matter how grand the architecture was, you found yourself incredibly and hopelessly lost. Leaning against a wall, you slumped down onto the floor, legs sprawled out in front of you as you quietly drank your ale. What were you to do? You’d rather be caught by a guard and thrown out of the party than risk trying to find your way back and only getting more lost! At least for now, you could live in your dream that had up until now been simply that. A dream.

Time passed slowly, and your only measure of it was your ale reaching the halfway point in its bottle. You were starting to get bored of sitting around, and desperately craved something to do. Perhaps you should try and explore some more? Maybe try to find the rumored treasure halls of Thráin? Or perhaps you could try to steal a peek of the forges, if you were even that lucky?

Unfortunately, time waits for no man, least of all one stuck in a decision. For in your pondering, you hadn’t realized that a certain dwarrow was running right towards you, seeming to try and escape someone or something else with a cheeky glint in his eye. But right when you noticed him, it was all too late; in his haste, he hadn’t seen your extended legs, and tripped over them like a blithering fool. You quickly got onto your knees, horror creeping on your face as you’d realize what you accidentally did.

“Oh. Oh my gosh! Oh my, I’m so sorry! I really didn’t mean to, truly!” You pleaded, extending a hand on his back for reassurance. “Are you okay? I didn’t even see you, I’m so sorry!”

The dwarf sat up, propped up on his elbow while the other hand went to his nose to check for blood. Nothing. It seemed he was about to scold you until his eyes met yours, and suddenly he was looking at you with such wonder that you thought maybe he really had hit his head.

“Are you alright? Is anything bleeding?” Your eyes scanned his features, looking for any sort of bruise he could have suffered, and trying to stay focused all at once. My, he was handsome. Tousled brown hair that fell down in waves upon his shoulders, wondrous brown eyes that seemed to glimmer in the dark, and rough stubble growing out of his face in a sort of ruggish beauty.

Finally, his speech returned to him. “I’m fine, really. I’m so clumsy, it seems we both didn’t see each other.” He smiled, and for some reason you were so enamored by it. You had only just met this man, and yet you already couldn’t get enough of that charming smile.

“Well, that’s a relief!” You sighed, sitting back on the floor, distancing yourself lest you find yourself flustered in front of this beautiful dwarf. “You had me worried there, you could’ve really hurt something.”

“Well, it’s not every day I find myself tripping over people in the hallways,” he mused. “What are you doing in here? You’re not from here, are you?”

You offered him your bottle of ale, and he obliged. “I live in Dale, I have a smithing shop there. I moved here years ago to see Erebor, and the one night I’m let in, I get myself lost!” You groaned, frustrated but still seeing the humor in your misfortune as you chuckled dryly. “I mean, a grand kingdom such as this, and I’m lost! Nothing is marked, there’s no signs anywhere! How do you even get from here to there in a place like this?”

The dwarf laughed at your plight, and despite the embarrassment you were enduring, you couldn’t help but smile at him. “The halls are marked, they’ve always been!”

“What?” You were awestruck, mostly out of ignorance. “Where?!”

“Look at the floors, they’re marked,” he said, moving closer to show you as he pointed his finger at a corner of the floor. As you leaned in to get a better look, you found he was right. Each hall was color-coded by the gem embedded in the stone flooring. Your jaw dropped, but you were quick to pick it back up.

“Wait, but how is any of that supposed to help me? I don’t know which means what!” You leaned back, exasperated, much to the dwarf’s amusement.

“That’s the point. Each gem holds a meaning in our culture, which makes it easy for us to navigate these halls and even easier for trespassers to get lost. It worked for everything except a dragon,” he smiled, looking at your annoyed expression. Suddenly feeling all too noticed as you caught him staring, your face felt hot and flushed, and you were sure it wasn’t just the ale this time.

“Alright, fine,” you lamented. “You caught me. Next time I sneak around these halls, I’ll just bring you along to make it easier.”

“Well,” he spoke, getting up from the floor and offering a hand to help you stand back up, his other hand holding your bottle of ale. “I can’t say I would mind, you already seem like such great company.”

You politely took his hand, standing up yourself to find the dwarf only coming up to your chest. You felt your face heat up again at the sight, taking in how… cute he looked. “I’m sorry,” you took a step back, shaking your head. “I don’t think I even got your name? I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N…” He whispered it to himself, almost like a secret, and found himself smiling after. “It’s beautiful.”

You chuckled nervously, not sure how to handle all the sweet attention. “And yours is?”

He thought for a moment, seeming to ponder whether or not he should tell you, which seemed a little absurd after how friendly you two had been so far. The least you were owed was a name.

“Kíli,” he said with a bow. “At your service.”

“Oh my, it seems your tripping has caused me to trip over my words,” you joked, returning the bow. “However will I repay you?”

He immediately sprung back up, an idea already in his mind. “Your company, perhaps?”

You seemed playfully shocked, putting a hand across your chest. “Who, me? Well who would I be if I declined?”

He smiled at your answer, taking your hand into his as he led you down the halls of Erebor with a swift tenacity just like he had entered with. “This way, I want to show you something!”

You let yourself be dragged across the mountain kingdom with Kíli leading the way, a giddy but nervous smile plastered on your face from holding hands like this. Perhaps it was the alcohol or the excitement of the night, but you were having a grand time being lost, so long as it was with Kíli.

After three minutes of twists and turns within the mountain rock later, suddenly you found yourself on a balcony high above the great hall of the banquet, so high up that the ceiling no longer felt so big. In fact, you yourself felt much bigger now that you had the view of the whole banquet, where everyone else seemed like little partying ants. You were speechless, there simply weren't any words left to describe how amazing this secret spot was. You quickly turned to Kíli, smiling wide like a cat.

“This.. This is amazing!” You shouted, but quickly hushed yourself amidst Kíli’s own shushes, which were accompanied by the most precious smile you’d seen. God, that smile of his shone brighter than any of the precious gems you had seen tonight, brighter than even the stars themselves. You so desperately wanted more of that shining light, especially for yourself.

“Isn’t it?” He smiled, inviting you back down to the floor to sit down. “It’s my secret little spot, I come here whenever I want to be alone, or away from the throngs of people. Not even my own brother knows how to get up here.”

“Well neither do I, so consider your secret kept safe,” you laughed, taking in a moment to look back down at the party scene below. With squinting eyes you could make out Thorin Oakenshield, who now was in deep conversation with a younger, blonde dwarf. Despite the distance, you could make out metal beads in his braids. “That must be one of the princes, look!” You pointed, scooting closer to Kíli so he could see it from your eye line better.

“Really?” He paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully, but you were too excited to notice. “How do you know?”

“A customer of mine bought some knives from me — beautifully decorated, may I add — in the hopes to present them to the princes and king and maybe even marry them!” You giggled at the last bit, the alcohol making Bralva’s boasts even sillier in your head. Quickly, you searched for Bralva’s beard amidst the sea of dancing ants. “Look! There she is!”

Kíli leaned even closer now to see, his cheek grazing yours, and it made you turn your head to look at him. Reading his expression, you could tell the exact moment his eyes found Bralva, his eyes glimmering once again with that devilish smile of his. You don’t know what led you to be so bold in this next moment, but by some small amount of courage, you leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek.

He was quick to turn and look at you, his face shocked at your gesture, before his shock melted into a giddy smile of joy. A small laugh left his lips, and he raised a hand to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “Mahal…” he whispered to himself, smiling softly. “Even the stars cannot compare to how radiant you are tonight…”

Your eyes widened at his words, unsure of what to say. You’d never been told such sweet things before. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t,” he chuckled, leaning in closer. Ever so slowly, he leaned in, his lips drawing ever nearer but not quite touching as if to ask for a silent confirmation of what was about to happen. Happy to give it, you leaned into him, your lips finally joining together in a kiss that was soft and slow. Your hand took its time to reach into his hair, and you felt him smile into the kiss as you did so, his own hands coming to rest at the nape of your neck and caress your jawline. You felt like you could keep kissing him like this forever, but all too soon, you pulled away, nervous.

“I’m sorry,” you sputtered. You weren’t ashamed, just a little anxious. “I’ve.. Well I'm not... I’ve never-“

“It’s alright, Y/N,” he smiled, petting your head reassuringly as he placed a kiss on your forehead, lingering for just a sweet moment. “There’s no need to explain. We could go somewhere quieter, if you’d like.”

You thought for a moment, catching your breath. You very much wanted to keep kissing him: there was something so addictingly sweet about kissing him. But it seems you definitely needed a moment to collect your thoughts first. “Yes, please. I’d appreciate that.”

“Of course,” he spoke softly, his voice so kind and gentle. He was kind and gentle. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

You nodded with a smile, standing up in tandem with him, when all of a sudden…

BOOM!

Up in the air, the fireworks show had begun, startling you and causing you to jump, knocking you and Kíli back down as you stared at the sparkling fireworks that lingered in the air, resembling butterflies. A sigh of relief washed over you, and you laughed to yourself before looking back to Kíli, who seemed to be in pain. “Oh my gosh!” You quickly got back up, not wanting to crush the poor dwarf. “I’m so sorry, I just got startled, and-“

“No, no, don’t be! It’s not you, it’s-“ he winced, pulling something from under his vest. He must have landed on it, but what he pulled out surprised you more than anything about tonight. There it was, shimmering in the light of the fireworks. Your own handiwork on full display as he held one of the knives you had crafted for Bralva.

“You… You’re…” You pointed a finger at the blade, still so overwhelmed and shocked by the nature of it all. Could it be? There was no way! What were the chances?

“What?” He feigned innocence, getting up. “Charming? Rugged? A sight to behold?”

“You’re the other prince!” You exclaimed, still in shock.

“Ah, right,” he nodded sarcastically. “You know, I always seem to forget that one.” He chuckled to himself, looking away for a moment before turning back to look at you, holding the blade out to you. “It truly is a wonderful gift, Y/N. I'm honored to have met the craftsman behind it.”

You scoffed, now coming back to your senses. “I think you’ve done a little more than ‘meeting’ the craftsman, Kíli. Or am I supposed to call you Your Highness?”

“Just Kíli will do, I can assure you, love.” He smiled, amused at your aloofness towards his title. “And as for doing ‘more than meeting’,” he took a step closer to you, offering his hand. “If you still feel the same, I’d love to continue ‘meeting’ you…”

Love. He had called you love. Gods…

You furrowed your brow, contemplating for a moment, all too worried of what this would implicate for both you and him. He was a dwarven prince, a direct descendant of Durin himself! And you? You were just a smith from Dale, with nothing to your name other than your skill. Could it even work?

Just as you tried desperately to reach a decision, another round of fireworks went off, the sparklers erupting into silvery leaves that fell onto the crowd. And suddenly, you knew. There was nothing else to wonder, to ponder, to overthink.

You turned back to him, leaning in as you dove for another kiss, this one slightly more fervent and desperate, just in case you’d risk never seeing him again. He was a stranger, but he was starlight. He was the sun, and you weren’t sure if you’d bloom again if it wasn’t by his rays. Your hands reached into his hair, tugging slightly, and he eagerly smiled into it, his own hands snaking up your body to rest on your waist, pulling you closer despite the height difference. He laughed between the dance of your lips, pulling away for a moment.

“So I take it that’s a yes?” His child-like eyes seemed to lure you in and drown you in their murky waters, and you wanted nothing more.

You smiled, looking down at him. “My prince, I believe you’d be correct.” And before the shorter one could get another word in, you took his hand, leading him away to somewhere quieter where you two could escape.

And while you may continue to get lost in the halls of Erebor, it was beginning to seem as though having Kíli as your compass, your guiding light, wouldn’t be too bad.

reblogging since it’s now officially a new year; enjoy, everyone!

“kisses and fireworks”

author’s note: happy new year everyone! I’m so excited to go into 2023, I feel like things can only go up from here :D and while I’m feeling very hopeful and optimistic, I figured I’d write a little treat to commemorate the new year with the classic tradition of a new year’s kiss! I hope you all enjoy :)

Pairing: Kíli / Gender-neutral Human Reader

Word Count: 5,165

summary: Finally being able to witness the majesty of Erebor on the anniversary of Durin’s Day was already enough for your hungry heart, but maybe there was more to these mountain halls than just architecture…

content warnings: Post-BOTFA, Everyone Lives! AU, knives, fireworks

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

Keep reading

“under my skin”

author’s note: okay, SO. y’all seem to be eating these fics up ravenously, so here I am to supply food to the starving wolves. eat up, baby! I'm so nervous since this is my longest fic yet, but here’s some fun and sexy (slight) enemies to lovers smut to spice up the fluff I've been writing lately. don’t say I never did anything for you guys. happy holidays, happy new year, and happy reading :)

Pairing: Kíli / Gender-neutral Human Reader

Word Count: 14,873

summary: forced to be allies for the sake of preventing war, kíli could do nothing but find his way under your skin...

content warnings: Post BOTFA, Everyone Lives! AU, Enemies to lovers, minor injuries (but ouch man they hurt), a poorly written fight scene (im so sorry in advance), possible OOC Dwalin (let me know what y’all think), blood, mentions of violence (it’s LOTR, y’all), smut, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex, oral (male receiving), praise, cursing

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

No matter the obstacle in your harrowing journey, the reward was all you needed to quickly motivate yourself again. What journey, you ask? Why, it was an adventure of great status and power. Commissioned by the King Under the Mountain himself, you (along with a hand-picked team of established dwarves and men) were tasked with hunting down and tracking a rather grisly enemy: Aevar Godfred. Once a man known for his high position among the ranks of Gondor, he was now an exiled thief on the run. His latest snatching had been of three precious jewels of Erebor. Now, these jewels weren’t nearly as precious as the Arkenstone, but they were still regal enough, crafted by Thorin himself to symbolize the current royal line of Durin. One for the king: an emerald that glowed with a radiant green shimmer. One for the crown prince: a ruby that flickered like the flames of the forges. And the last one for the youngest prince: a sapphire that reflected light just like the vast seas.

Aevar, under the cover of night and the kingdom’s banquet of Durin’s Day, had snuck into Erebor and stolen the Royal Jewels, his slippery self escaping into the night only to finally be noticed the next morning by guards when it was found that the jewels had left the treasury. An issued warning had been sent to Gondor, but after being informed that Aevar himself had been exiled, Thorin had decided to settle matters by his own means. A simple capture mission, one that Thorin was hoping would end with a blade to the thief’s slimy neck once he was returned to Gondor.

You remembered Thorin’s words the day this journey had been pushed onto you as clear as ever. It was night, and the torches had cast a glowing aura about the king as he sat upon his stone-carved throne. You, along with two other dwarves known as Dwalin and Kíli and another man named Sigfred, kneeled before the throne as Thorin’s gruff and commanding voice filled the bedrock walls.

“It is upon you that I delegate this mission,” he said. “Two weeks past, a sniveling thief fell under our noses and stole precious jewels of the kingdom. Jewels that belong to royalty.” His expression was proud and bright, but his voice held a dark tone that conveyed his authority with a scary countenance. “Word spread to Gondor, but it now comes to our own hands to deal with this sniveling coward. Under the guidance of Balin, I have assembled you four to carry out this mission. Word has come to us that the thief has been spotted south of Mirkwood. I suspect he may be running to Rohan or the Wilderland for shelter. You are to find him, hunt him if you must, but return him alive and restore the jewels. I promise you will all be handsomely rewarded upon your successful return.”

You all raised your heads to look upon the king, who now stood proudly above you all with a daunting presence. “To aid us in our mission, Gondor has sent Y/N.” With a raised hand in your direction, the king introduced you to your group, and you stood tall. “They are our insurance, and are in charge of keeping you all to our word that no harm comes to Aevar Godfred.”

You nodded in agreement, bowing. “While he is your enemy, I can assure you that we plan to deal with him swiftly. We exiled him in the hopes that he would rot away. Now, we plan to imprison him for the rest of his days so he can torment no longer.”

“That should’ve been your first decision,” one of the dwarves piped up, and you turned to meet his glare. Two fierce brown eyes met yours, their deep color matching the fiery attitude as the younger dwarf of your troop.

“Kíli, hold your tongue.” Dwalin warned, his own steely eyes now turned to the young prince.

“I’m sorry Uncle, but I cannot. I will not,” the young dwarf said, who you now knew to be Erebor’s Prince Kíli. And what an ignorant prince he seemed to be. “Why does Gondor wish to keep their thief after banishing him to be our problem? Why now do they intend to dispose of him?” The young dwarf stood now, palms open to Thorin in a silent plea of an explanation.

“To avoid battle.” You interrupted, growing impatient with him so soon after meeting him. He looked to you confused, before returning his quizzical glance to his uncle, who merely nodded.

“It was agreed that Aevar Godfred would be returned to Gondor as an insurance of no ill will between our kingdoms.” His voice was softer now as he approached his nephew, offering an apologetic hand on his shoulder. Carefully, he leaned into his shoulder, his voice dropping to a whisper. “We cannot afford to wage any kind of disagreement with Gondor over this man, nor can we afford his burglary to go unpunished. This is the only way to assure both.”

Though you couldn’t hear the words Thorin had whispered to Kíli, you figured you already knew based on Kíli’s reaction, his eyes widening and his jaw setting tightly. His tongue had left him, only responding with a small nod of acknowledgement before Thorin pulled away, casting a glance to you before returning to his throne.

“As I said before, Y/N will be your aid and your warden. I trust you all to behave.” Now back to his regular gruff self, he cleared his throat. “Offering his services to us freely, Sigfred here will serve as your guide. His knowledge of the Wilderland is vast, and I pray it will serve you well on this journey.”

Sigfred too now rose, a silent nod from the ginormous auburn-haired man, whose mustache twitched as his gaze pierced through you. You had heard tales of a wandering ranger from the Wilderland, their rumors passing off as myth as it was hard to survive without aid in those lands. After all, nothing came from the Wilderlands save for wild beasts of enormous strength. But here he stood, six feet and four inches tall, with hair covering his chest and arms as shown through his tunic.

“As for warriors, Erebor supplies the journey with Dwalin and Kíli.” Thorin finished his introductions, his hands offering the two dwarves, of which only Dwalin was left kneeling. But that didn’t last long as he finally stood, arms crossed.

“For the journey, I offer my axes,” he grumbled. His voice was deep and gruff, and scars littered his arms, reminiscent of battles long ago.

“And I my sword and bow,” spoke Kíli, who now seemed to know how to bite his tongue.

“It is done, then.” Thorin said with a nod. “By first light, you all shall begin your journey. Rest now, and be swift.” And with a single hand he dismissed you all, leaving you to return to your lodgings within the mountain halls. But as you left, you felt Kíli’s gaze bore stubborn holes into the back of your skull.

That was three weeks ago. It was the money that kept you here, you had to remind yourself. Nothing else but the bounty of gold promised to you by the King Under the Mountain himself, Thorin Oakenshield. Nothing else, despite the fact that you were already beginning to feel your patience wearing thin. In just three short weeks, the young prince of Erebor had been nothing but insufferable and unprofessional. Constantly up to pranks at the expense of you and your sanity (he had attempted to jest with Sigfred, but it seemed the poor dwarf prince was intimidated by the silent man who stood almost two feet taller than he), he was driving you up a wall. The few times Dwalin had put him in check were the only moments that brought you relief these days. That, and the quiet nights you all slept in the shadows. It seemed the only good thing Kíli provided was his skill with a bow and scouting. Though, a part of you was also entertained by his stories, which he told often to Sigfred whenever he could. Though intimidated, it seemed the young dwarf was also awestruck by the tall ranger. It was only when he told such stories of dragons and elves that you found yourself fully listening to him.

But as more days passed, he seemed to be getting bolder. To begin the next week, he had decided to swipe your clothes while you were caught unawares, hiding them while you were bathing nearby! You were lucky it was Sigfred and not Dwalin who found you panicking naked about the springs, pushing your embarrassment down knowing for a fact that the quiet man wouldn’t tell a soul. You were lucky he had helped by finding and bringing you your clothes (lest you be caught meandering naked just outside of Mirkwood) but still, a part of your dignity had evaporated that day. You could feel yourself being pushed to the brink by his antics, and weren’t sure just how much you could take it.

A few more days passed, and finally you had a lead on Aevar Godfred. You had caught wind of a strange man shirking about past the Brown Lands, headed west towards Fangorn. You thought that he was possibly trying to run to Rohan in hopes of sanctuary, as Thorin had theorized all those weeks ago. Mind set on tracking him, you followed Sigfred as he led the way, his fast legs leaving you and the other two dwarves quite winded by the time you set up camp the next night. Quickly, you all settled under the shelter of wooden ruins that must have been a stable at one point. Dwalin was quick to get the fire going, sending out Kíli to go hunting for tonight’s dinner. Sigfred, who was a vegetarian, was put on watch.

With a tired demeanor, you sunk to the ground, sitting near Dwalin at the fire. For now, while Kíli was away, you could relax. A sigh escaped your lips, and you tried to stretch your back, thoughts eating away at the back of your mind. “I worry about our journey ahead,” you said. Dwalin responded with nothing, but the glint in his eyes told you he was listening. “I’ve heard rumors about Fangorn Forest, and it’s not one to lose yourself in.” You straightened your back, leaning closer to Dwalin, your voice now a whisper. “They say the trees there are different, they’re not normal. They… they can speak to each other. Whisper, mumble, and moan. And sometimes, they say they can even walk.”

“And does someone of your status believe these tales?” Dwalin mused, and you could hear a slight mocking lilt to his voice, though you took care not to address it. He didn’t seem spooked by your words, not in the slightest. “Why lead us there then?”

“I hope to go around,” you replied. “But if Sigfred finds more tracks, we may have no choice but to venture into those woods.” You leaned back, laying on your back now among the grass and twigs. “I’m beginning to worry about how long this is taking. Surely Erebor wouldn’t claim war over something small like this.” You had muttered the last part to yourself, but Dwalin’s keen ears had caught it.

“Thorin would not choose war so easily, not since the days of the dragon,” he said. “But I say murder lies on his mind often with the likes of thieves.”

You nodded, listening. It made more sense to think of it like that, and it started to make you wonder if the council of Gondor had sent you here as “aid” merely to appease the stubborn dwarves. A milk run of sorts. A small errand to busy the minds of children. You groaned at the thought, not too pleased with the idea of possibly being a scapegoat for something as small as this.

The sound of returning footsteps stirred your thoughts, and you were quick to stand back onto your feet. You knew it was Kíli, and if Kíli was returning so soon, you had no doubt that his antics would as well. You weren’t in the mood to deal with him, especially now with all these doubts swimming in your head. You needed to clear your mind, and so you walked away from the fire and into the night. Not too far, mind you, but far enough to feel alone with the crickets and the stars. They were shining brightly tonight, and you wondered what it would be like to touch one as you sat back in the grass. You wondered what it would be like to fly up, up, up into the sky and sit on a cloud, far away from dwarven princes and thieves and political feuds.

You weren’t quite sure how much time had passed before you had finally decided you should return, standing up and dusting yourself off before a soft voice cut through your thoughts.

“Are you not going to eat?” The voice startled you, coming from right behind you and causing you to trip and fall backwards on top of the poor person. Well, maybe they didn’t deserve that much pity, as you quickly realized it was Kíli who had startled you.

“Gods, make yourself known next time!” You grumbled, annoyed, and you brought your fist to his chest in spite. But after a quick wince of pain, all he did was smile, and suddenly you realized how close you two were, with you still on top of him.

“My, my. Falling for me already?” He beamed, coughing out a pained chuckle with his cheeky grin catching you off guard as you hurriedly sat up and away from him, trying your best to regain your composure.

“Don’t get it twisted,” you said. “If I spend one more minute this close to you, I think I’ll go insane.”

He too started to rise, propping himself up on his elbows. “I think we finally agree, but don’t go making empty promises.” He chuckled, and you could have sworn he even winked. The gall! The nerve! Gods! Your cheeks heated up in anger and embarrassment at his words.

“The only promise I’ll give is my hands around your throat if you don’t stop.” You warned, finally finding the courage to stand.

He sighed wistfully, getting himself back up. “I’ll warn you; don’t go making promises you can’t keep, now. You’d be surprised to find I might like that.”

Your eyes widened, and your ears and cheeks flushed again. You were so unbelievably caught off guard by his flirtatious comments that you couldn't even remember why he had come to retrieve you in the first place. Now he was beginning to push his luck. “Will you stop these jokes, already?”

“Jokes? I can assure you that I’m definitely into-”

“No, stop! Stop it! I’m done!” You said, frustrated. “For two months now we’ve been at this, and for two months now you’ve made a complete fool of me! I can’t take these pranks of yours anymore, I refuse! Hiding my weapons was mildly annoying, painting my face in my sleep was immature, and don’t even get me started on hiding my clothes while I’m bathing! Is nothing sacred to you?”

His eyes widened, surprised by your outburst. A heavy silence fell as he studied your face carefully. He took a step closer, his eyes holding some sort of apologetic worry that seemed so foreign to you now compared to his usual grins. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop.” His words were honest, and his voice had softened. “It was all in good fun, I meant no ill will.”

“Good fun?” You scoffed, crossing your arms. “I was left to wander around naked because of you!”

“A sight I wish I could’ve seen,” he coughed to himself. “But really, I meant nothing by it. Despite how lovely it is to see you flustered, I don’t wish to make an enemy of you.” He spoke truthfully, though hidden was another truth you couldn’t fully discern. Offering a hand, he looked into your eyes with his own deep brown ones that shone in the starlight. “A truce. I promise to leave you alone for the rest of the journey, I swear.”

You were suddenly finding yourself taken aback by how quickly his mood had shifted from playful to serious. Before the journey had even started, he had been glaring daggers into your backside. What could have possibly made him change his mind in these last two months? Even his pranks had gone from tormenting the group as a whole to being more targeted towards you as of late. What was in his mind to focus so much attention on driving you insane? But his expression was earnest, and it suddenly made you second-guess yourself, now embarrassed that you had made such a big deal of it all. “No, you… You don’t have to do all that.” You sighed, swallowing your pride for the first time with him. “I just… If we are to continue being allies, then I can’t keep being some little game for you to entertain yourself with. I deserve some respect.”

He nodded, understanding now that his attempts of flirting with you had come off as harassment, and was feeling deeply ashamed. “You deserve so much more than that,” he said, retracting his hand. His voice had said those words so softly, like a feather caught in a breeze. And just as quickly as silence fell again, he was quick to do a silly little bow to you.

“From now on, I’m at your service,” he smiled. “Allow me to extend my services for your forgiveness, if you’ll allow it.”

You swallowed, not sure of what to make of his gesture. Perhaps he was simply joking again, but perhaps he wasn’t. And perhaps you were willing to risk those odds, for some reason. You stood for half a second before sighing. Your mind was made up. “Alright,” you spoke. “But one more chance. That’s all you’re getting, so you better not disappoint me.”

Relieved you accepted him for now, he beamed, and in the same breath realized just how much he was beginning to fall for you.

Finally, you were hot on Aevar’s trail. Two and a half months into your journey, with which Kíli had thus been true to his word, and you had found it. Hidden just in front of the forest’s entrance, in a now-abandoned shack along the main road, you had spotted a campfire. And not just any campfire, but the likes of which belonged to Aevar Godfred. You knew him well based on his face, for he had been born with a scar along his cheek that was hard to miss through the windows of the shack, and even harder to forget. Behind trees, you kept hidden, retreating back to tell the others of your good fortune. Finally, this would all be over soon. Or at least half of the journey would be.

It seemed the only one who had been excited by the news was Kíli, his eyes shining brightly and eager to get to work when you had told the group of your findings. Dwalin himself had also shown relief, though from all his years he knew better than to celebrate early. Sigfred, for once, showcased a small smile, though concern still laced his brow. Now, all that needed to happen was the forming of a plan. After quick deliberation, it was settled; you’d all wait him out and sack him in his sleep.

Hours passed by until the fire’s light was seen dying, and further scouting from Kíli proved useful as ever. Aevar Godfred, the scourge of both Gondor and Erebor, was finally asleep.

With careful steps and baited breath, you all surrounded him, wary of waking him. It had been decided that the “sacking” would go along in this fashion: Kíli, with a drawn bow and keen eye, would keep his sights drawn on Aevar in the event that he tried something nasty upon waking. Dwalin, armed with his sheer muscle, would guard the door of the building. Sigfred stood guard outside, for he was the last resort if Aevar tried to make a break for it. And as for you, you carefully made your way to Aevar’s sleeping figure, maneuvering his weapons away from his sleeping body until you were ready for the next step.

Quickly, you gave a glance to Dwalin, who nodded to let you know that he was ready any time. Turning your glance, you now looked at Kíli, who looked quite intimidating now that his weapon was drawn. He gave you a knowing look, slowly nodding, and you knew it was time. You drew a breath, unsheathed your dagger, and pounced.

You awoke the thief with a start, your blade drawn to his neck as you straddled his body, digging your knees into his wrists to prevent him from moving. His head whipped wildly about, assessing the situation, before his head made contact with yours, and hard. Your grip faltered for a moment, and Aevar took his chance. Springing up, he swung his legs at Kíli, missing the dwarf’s fired arrow just barely, though it cut his cheek. Down Kíli tumbled, and down Aevar flew to swipe at his weapons, but not before you threw your dagger as a quick-ditch method. It managed to pierce him in his backside, and the traitor let out a great howl of pain, dropping to his knees but still desperately scurrying to try and retrieve some sort of weapon.

“Dwalin, now!” You commanded, holding your head in your right hand. You wondered if it would bruise, but found yourself more annoyed that Godfred had gotten you with such child’s play. Kíli himself was also finding himself annoyed, not having missed a target in a long while. He would later blame it on the cramped space, but that was no matter for now.

Dwalin was swift as he was scary, kicking Aevar down onto his stomach and holding him there with his foot before binding his hands behind his back, all the while with the cowardly man howling and moaning. With one swift hit, Dwalin knocked the man out, and his body thumped on the broken wooden floors.

“Dwalin! We need him alive!” You said, worried.

“Alive,” he repeated. “And I’d rather think quietly, too.”

You groaned, not wanting to bicker. The important part was that you got him. You had ensnared your prey, and despite the annoyance you were thanking the stars that it had been so easy. Stumbling onto your hands and knees, you issued another order.

“Kíli, find the jewels. Quick.” You said, and Kíli wasted no time in searching, tearing apart Aevar’s things one by one. But he was starting to get frustrated, with each bag and nook and cranny turning up empty.

“They’re not here.. They’re not here!” He looked at you with exasperation, and you finally stood up, dumbfounded.

“Look again, Kíli,” Dwalin commanded. “Find them now.”

Both of you now searched, hands tearing the place apart together until just under the floorboards, you saw something shine from the moonlight trickling in the window. Quickly, you got on all fours, prying the floor open only to cut yourself on a sharp nail. You winced, a few curses expelling themselves from your lips as you stumbled back, catching yourself with your elbow. Kíli was quick to notice, casting a worried look to your current state before finishing what you had started. He pried open the floor, and there they were. Tucked and wrapped in a loose scarf sat the jewels, the sapphire peeking out in the moonlight. It was the sapphire that you had seen.

“We found them!” He called out, a laugh of relief escaping him as he raised them in his hand to show Dwalin and Sigfred, who had finally come in after realizing all had went well so far.

You smiled in relief, but quickly found yourself focusing back on your hand, which now felt as though it were burning and going numb at the same time. Though it was bleeding a lot, as being a long cut that ran from your middle finger to the base of your thumb, you were lucky it seemed to have only cut skin and not tissue. But still, it was deep, creating a thin gash on your hand. This plus your combined headache was making it harder for you to stay present in the moment. Your head pounded still from the impact, and you partially wondered if you were having a concussion. You ripped off some fabric from your tunic, quickly wrapping your hand for now, though you knew it would have to be treated sooner than later. But now, there was still work to do.

Just one hour later, you had all set up inside the abandoned shack. Quickly, everyone had gotten to work. Sigfred had been put on watch after tying and binding Aevar up to one of the shack’s foundational beams tight enough that you almost pitied him. Keyword: almost. Dwalin had rekindled the dying fire just in time for rain to begin falling, with droplets peppering in through the broken patches of the thatch roofing. Kíli had raided the rest of Aevar’s belongings to supply everyone with decent enough rations, and you… You hadn’t been much help, not that you could help it. You leaned against the wall of the ruined building, wincing at any slight movement in your right hand due to the placement of the cut. A part of you silently wished it had been your non dominant hand; at least then, you’d still be some sort of useful.

Taking a seat by your side, Kíli put both of your rations on the ground before leaning closer, his brows furrowed and laced with concern. “Let me see,” he said, awfully close. And reluctantly, you offered him your hand. You had half the mind not to just because of how much he seemed to get on your nerves, or how much you wanted to seem strong despite the burning feeling, but you were worried too much about it being infected to be in any position above him right now.

His thicker fingers delicately unwrapped the tunic scraps off of the cut, soaked in blood that now looked dark from the amount you had bled. His jaw set tightly after getting a good look at it, and he drew a skin from his bag. “We need to clean it,” he said. He opened the skin with his teeth, pouring a liquid on your wound that you quickly realized from the smell and awful sting alone was liquor, quite possibly ale. You hissed, tensing everywhere as your head fell back against the wall in pain. It ebbed in your hand, a burning and stinging sensation that made you want to chop the whole hand off and be done with it. You bit your lip hard, groaning in pain. You had tried jerking your hand back to you, but Kíli’s once delicate hold now gripped your wrist tightly to make sure he didn’t miss any spots.

“It has to be cleaned,” he explained, though you already knew that quite well. “You’re doing well, it’s alright.” His reassuring words startling you as you quickly met his gaze, a sense of uncertainty in your eyes. Perhaps he pitied you right now, you thought to yourself. He was being too nice, and you didn’t know how to respond to it. It seemed like another prank, another ruse. You broke the eye contact held between you, your pride getting the best of you as you only nodded. Eventually, the pain dulled down, and Kíli’s grip loosened, setting your hand down to retrieve some fresh gauze to wrap your wound.

“It’s not too deep,” he said. “But you won’t be able to make much use out of your hand for now.” You turned back to him, refusing to take your eyes away from him now as he wrapped you up. No, it wasn’t refusal, now that you thought about it. You simply couldn’t look away. You had become all too interested in the concentrated gaze he held, his hair falling in the front of his face. Without a thought behind it, you raised your other hand to his face, tucking away the loose hair behind his ear. He tensed at the contact, quick to look at you all wide-eyed like a deer caught at night. You couldn’t read his face, and soon realized just what you had done. Coming back to your senses, you cleared your throat, sitting up straighter.

“It is… Um, is it finished?” You asked. Kíli took a second longer to bring himself back, before he too cleared his throat.

“Yes, yes,” he said. “But be careful. Here.” His hands left your own, and you found yourself being disappointed by it, though you didn’t understand why. He handed you your food for the night, and you softly thanked him, being careful with your injury as you ate.

“He’ll be waking up soon,” Dwalin grunted, and you were reminded that you had an audience this whole time. “What’s the plan from here?”

“Gondor isn’t too far from here,” you spoke carefully, envisioning the route home in your mind. “But the jewels and prisoner must be returned to Erebor.”

“And so they shall,” Kíli nodded, now seated next to Dwalin, leaving his spot beside you. Again, disappointment crept into your mind from the gesture, but you still didn’t understand why you felt such a way.

“Aye, they will.” Dwalin agreed. “But traveling with a sniveling thief won’t be easy. I doubt he’ll be more than willing to come along, and I don’t want more dead weight for the journey back home.” He grunted disapprovingly, not liking the idea of traveling with Aevar. Not that you blamed him, though.

“As much as it doesn’t sound appealing, it’s what your king wanted us to do.” You said. “Gondor, if they even still want him, will want him from your kingdom more than my own hands.”

Kíli quirked an eyebrow in confusion, looking at Dwalin and then you. “What do you mean by ‘if’ they still want him?”

You sighed, finishing your meal quickly. “My orders were more vague than I told you; I’m not entirely sure what will happen to him once he’s brought to Minas Tirith. But regardless, we should follow along as we have. We should leave early tomorrow and make use of the light. I’ll take first watch.”

Kíli was still curious of your orders, but decided against discussing further. It was late, and everyone was tired from the journey. Sigfred let out a small sigh of relief after being relieved from his duty, and soon everyone was preparing for the night to sleep.

Night crept on, much like the thunderstorm that raged overhead, and you had been at watch for a few hours now, with everyone sleeping at the other end of the shack. You too had begun to start feeling tired, but the thunder clapping flooded your ears and kept you awake. It seems it managed to stir others at times too, for soon Aevar awoke, tied down and gagged. You rolled your eyes at the sight as he began groaning and sputtering muffled curses at you through the fabric stuffed in his mouth, quite enraged to be in his current state.

“Silence,” you ordered, keeping your voice low. “You have no one but yourself to blame. We’re taking you back to Erebor, where your punishment awaits.”

But Aevar was a fool, and a stubborn one at that. Managing to spit out the gag to your surprise, he then spat venom at you. “Do what you will, but as soon as you fall asleep I’ll unbind myself, slit your disgusting throats and be off with what’s mine. I stole them once and I’ll do it again.”

“Oh, don’t make me laugh,” you scoffed, glaring at him. “Give it up; you have no power here, nor anywhere else for that matter.” Your words were fueled by your distaste for his pitiful arrogance. “Did you really think you were so smart? So clever? You stole something when nobody was watching, and now act as if you’ve hung the stars themselves. Get a hold of yourself, Aevar. You’re nothing but a worthless cheat.”

“So says you, who bends every which way for the sake of a man you call King.” He said. “And I’m the one without worth? If I’m but dirt, then what does that make you?”

You didn’t answer at first, but your expression became stony as your free hand held the hilt of your dagger tightly. “It’ll make you nothing but a distant memory by the time we arrive in Erebor. Now be quiet if you know what’s good for you. It would be wise for you to keep your tongue once you’re there, unless you’d like for me to cut it out?”

“You don’t scare me,” he hissed. “You’re just a slave to your government. A pawn to your politics. And a whore to your-”

Quickly, you decided you had had enough of his mad ramblings, grasping the blade of your dagger to strike him in the head with its hilt, knocking him unconscious once more and right in tandem with an awful clapping of powerful thunder. He made another slimy grunt before going out cold, and upon seeing the slight cut on your hand from your grip, you dropped the blade, watching it clatter to the floor. You were lucky this cut was lighter than the one on your dominant hand, and even luckier that your dagger was dull. Only a few drops of blood escaped before you wrapped your other hand as best as you could, relieved that you could still use it despite your rashness leading you to now have two cut hands.

But you hadn’t been quiet enough, it seemed. From hearing the clatter, Kíli awoke, his eyes squinting in the dark to find you standing over Aevar’s body, which had sunk back into his original position. He stood up, making his way behind you as he peered over at the thief, who now lay unconscious. His gaze shifted between the dagger on the floor and the thief tied up. “What happened?”

“He woke up, just like Dwalin said,” you spoke plainly. “So I put him back to sleep.” Now starting to ebb away from your dark thoughts, you turned to look at the dwarf. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” he lied, his voice soft. “The thunder. It’s just loud tonight.”

You nodded, sitting back down against the wall like you had done earlier. “I see. It’ll probably continue on until the morning, too.”

Concern laced his brow as he studied your face, kneeling now in front of you. “Y/N…” Your name sounded so delicate on his tongue. “Is… Is everything alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” you said. “He just… He got under my skin, that's all.”

Now Kíli nodded, and repositioned himself to sit next to you. “I see.” A small pause as he attempted to cheer you up. “And here I was, thinking that was my job.”

You gave a weak chuckle, smiling softly as your head leaned back, hitting the wall. A comfortable silence fell over you two, or as silent as you could get with the commotion going on outside. “Listen, Kíli,” you whispered.

“Yes?” He looked at you, his eyes shining like stars in the dark sky. You didn’t understand why you thought of them like that, but you did.

“About earlier. I wanted to thank you for patching me up. I should’ve said it earlier but I let my pride get in the way. I’m sorry.” You spoke earnestly, wanting to wipe the guilt out of your memory by setting the record straight. “You’ve been true to your word since our last conversation, and here I am still finding myself not trusting you. It’s unfair. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he smiled, letting out a breathy laugh. “I’m nothing but trouble in your eyes, you have every right to keep looking over your shoulder. I’m just glad you didn’t suffer anything worse.”

You sighed, nodding with a hum of acknowledgment, but his words seemed to bite you on the inside. Another pause came, followed by your voice. “You’re not.. You’re not trouble.” You spoke carefully, not even entirely sure where you were going with this yourself. “I’m just not used to such antics, least of all from a prince.” He chuckled at this.

“Sometimes,” you looked away, not being able to look at him while you admitted the next bit. “I suppose sometimes, they could even be considered funny.”

You kept your gaze away, but saw in your peripheral that Kíli seemed shocked by your words. “Funny? Oh Mahal, how hard did he hit your head?”

You whipped your head back around at the accusation, finding it already annoying that it had taken so much pride to give the dwarf a compliment. “Oh please! If he had hit me any harder I may have said I was in love with you,” you said sarcastically, but it seemed that Kíli didn’t find it as funny. Or not at first, at least, as a gruff chuckle left him a bit delayed.

“Ah, I see.” He said. “Well, it’s good to see you’re not hurt in the head, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to insult me nearly as easily.” He gave a cheeky grin and you rolled your eyes, shrugging off his teasing. “I like seeing this side of you, Y/N.”

“What, injured?” You raised your wrapped hands, confused by his statement.

“Open,” he said, and continued to elaborate at the sight of your raised eyebrow. “When we first met, you were so cold and kept mostly to yourself. I’m glad the journey has brought us closer.”

“And when we first met, I could say the same of you,” you retorted. “Don’t think I didn’t notice your glares and sneers when I left each room.” Kíli shrunk a little at this, finding himself embarrassed.

“I was…” He explained. “I was rather rash in my thoughts, I’d say. But I know better now. I think I know you a little better now, too.” You scoffed at this, rolling your eyes.

“Oh really? And what have you found out, you little spy?” You taunted, raising a brow.

“That you’re just as strong as you are stubborn.” He began. “That no matter what happens, you always seem to be able to motivate yourself and get back up again. And that you take your job seriously. So seriously that you never seem to have time for a joke or a laugh. But when you do laugh, your eyes crinkle up like paper. It makes me wish to see your laugh more often.” He looked over at you, meeting your eyes now. Your face was flushed from hearing such words, but you couldn’t bring yourself to escape his stare. No, you found yourself lost in it. Two swirling pools of a deep brown that seemed to drown you. So deep, in fact, that you feared if you dove in, you might never come up for air. You found yourself speechless, not sure of what to say or how to continue such a conversation. Kíli continued it for you.

“You also have quite a temper,” he laughed. “You get wrinkles on your forehead, especially when you’re cross with me. And your fist stings just as hard as your glares. It reminds me sometimes of my mother; it seems you both think I’m reckless.”

Finally, your words returned to you as you cleared your throat to find them. “Well she’s right, you know,” you said. “You are reckless. A complete idiot driven by impulse. But you’re smart, nonetheless.” You sighed, pushing your pride aside for just a moment, long enough to admit your favorite things about him. “You’re incredibly skilled with a bow, I’d say you even rival elvish warriors.”

“You think so?” He asked, smiling. You nodded.

“But your strategies need more work. You’re smart with a blade, and you’re incredibly determined, but you’re still impulsive. You don’t look out for yourself enough.” You tried your best not to scold him, but still found yourself frustrated at the facts. “You try your best to look out for everyone else in the group, but do nothing for yourself. It’s exhausting. If you continue to do so, you’re only going to get yourself hurt.” You wanted to say more, but bit your tongue, lest you admit a tiny part of yourself cared about him.

“So the immovable Y/N truly does worry about me,” he teased, but his face dulled at the thought. “But you’re right. At least, that’s what I’ve been told many times by many people. I let my emotions get the best of me, it seems.”

You felt bad for chiding him, shifting yourself to face him more as you sighed. “It’s not entirely a bad thing, you know.” He looked back up at you, curious for you to say more. “Emotions are good, it means you have a heart, and that’s very rare to find these days in times of war. You have the heart of a warrior, Kíli.” His smile returned at your words, and he found himself falling deeper into your eyes this time.

“You know,” he spoke, his voice soft. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a soft spot for me.” You flushed again, your eyes going wide. “Either that, or you’ve gone delirious with infection. I think it’s poisoning your mind!” Your breath of relief (that you weren’t even aware you had let out) left him laughing at your disposition.

“Well if that were the case,” you grumbled. “It would be from your own lack of medical expertise.” Kíli smiled, rolling his own eyes, and you were beginning to find yourself very tired from the night, your eyelids growing heavy and your yawns coming in more frequently. The thunder outside now seemed so distant in your sleepy mind. How long had it been? Four, five hours? You stretched your exhausted body, trying to find comfort against the wall.

“I can take over,” he spoke, stirring you from your thoughts. “I don’t mind. You need the rest, anyways.” You shook your head no, stubborn as you were.

“I’m fine,” you said.

“You’re tired,” he said. “Just rest. I’m quite awake now, don’t worry. I can stand watch.”

You sighed, not wanting to bicker. “Fine, but only for an hour. Not a moment longer, wake me up once it’s over.” You groaned, resting your head against the wall to sleep, not bothering to move from your spot, still intent on watching later as you shut your eyes.

Kíli huffed at your stubbornness. “Y/N, here.” You felt his hand come across your face, guiding your head into his lap. Your eyes shot open for a second, startled at the gesture.

“What… What are you-” you tried to speak, but were interrupted.

“Shh, rest now,” he said. “I don’t want you to have a stiff neck for the journey back. Unless you’d rather take the floor?”

You said nothing in response, not having the energy to fight or the courage to taunt him back. A small sigh left your lips and you closed your eyes again, drifting off to sleep.

The next few weeks seemed to fly by. You all wasted no time in hurrying back to Erebor, though the journey itself would take another month and a half. Your days were filled with hiking the forests, hills, and mountains as the sun rose and set around you all constantly. But despite the fast progress you had been making, the journey was far from quiet. Aevar made sure of that, constantly whining and groveling only to spit insults whenever someone wasn’t giving him the attention he so desperately sought. You had all realized early on that rendering him unconscious never solved the problem like you had hoped it would. So instead, you had chained him up, tying his hands together with a long rope you could pull on to ensure he followed. It was mostly Dwalin’s job to do this, being one of the more physically strong ones. Sigfred had been in charge a few times in the past, but quickly found he didn’t have half the stubborn determination that Dwalin did.

Kíli had been put on as the leader of the pack lately, often scouting ahead and helping ensure the road you all traveled was safe and swift. He seemed to have a new energy about him lately too, but you chalked up his eagerness as just wanting to be home soon. You too were ready to return to Erebor already, the journey having set a new ache in your bones that you wished a decent bed would soothe. But you’d be lying if you said you also didn’t share a newfound energy. And it wasn’t because your hands were healing up quickly, either.

Ever since that first night with Aevar, you had found Kíli invading your mind much more than you deemed necessary. You now watched him closely, catching yourself studying him like a prey does of a hunter, though you knew in your heart that he was no such thing. But still, you found yourself strangely timid around him now. His smiles slowly became contagious, his laughs leaving you flustered now. You had no clue what to make of it, and silently cursed yourself all the while. You didn’t want to address the fact that you were finding yourself more and more drawn to him, and had silently chosen not to address any of these feelings until you reached Erebor’s mountain gates.

But it was on days like this that you were finding it harder and harder to do such a thing, as Kíli seemed to always want to be at your side whenever there was a break to do so. Not that you had any courage to deny him, though. A secret part of you enjoyed the way his face seemed to light up during your conversations, a stark contrast to how you two had originally gotten off upon meeting each other.

The night was young, and you had all just reached the dense and dark forest of Mirkwood, setting up camp quickly. It was better to go through Mirkwood during the day, for it was so dark at night that you couldn’t even see your hand if you waved it in front of your own face. Sigfred had gotten the fire started, with Dwalin taking first watch, tying Aevar to a tree, much to the thief’s dismay. It was your turn to hunt tonight’s dinner, as your rations were all running low, and so you set out just a little ways away from your campsite.

Determined, you snuck around the fields surrounding the forest until you found a small river. With eager eyes, you stepped into the shallow end of the waters, drawing your daggers as you let the moonlight glimmer off the stream, waiting eagerly to see the shimmer of fish scales. Though it was a lot of waiting, you were eager and patient for the reward of fresh fish. One by one, you managed to stab each fish with great accuracy, only gathering enough to eat for tonight; any leftovers would probably spoil during the remainder of the journey. Waiting just a little longer to catch one last fish, your focus was stirred by footsteps approaching you. You looked up, keeping your dagger taught in your hand, until you realized it was just Kíli who stood at the top of the riverbank, peering down at you. You sighed, relieved it was just him.

“You know, for a dwarf,” you chuckled. “You’re quite the master of stealth. It’s starting to scare me how quiet you can walk.” He smiled, running a hand through his hair.

“Apologies, I meant not to startle you. I actually came to offer aid; there’s not much to do at camp.” His hands drifted to his bow, holding it up for you to see. You nodded in acknowledgement.

“I appreciate it, but I’m almost done. You can help me carry these back though, if you’d like,” you gestured to the fish, and he nodded with a delighted hum, climbing down to the edge of the river’s shores to get a closer look after putting his bow away.

“A fine dinner, I’m sure,” he grinned. “Caught by an even finer hunter, no doubt.” You flushed at his words, fiddling with your dagger to avoid looking nervous. His words were like honey, and if you weren’t careful, you’d find yourself stuck in their sweetness. A part of you wanted to talk about your newfound feelings, though this was all foreign territory to you. You didn’t even know where to start.

“You’re too kind,” was all you could mutter out before hunching back down into the waters to search for the glimmer of fish again. You needed a distraction, something to pull you out of the enchanting reverie of Kíli Durin, and he could sense this, growing a little concerned.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, seating himself next to your pile of caught fish, all of good size for tonight’s dinner. You dare not look back at him, feigning ignorance.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” You spoke absentmindedly, trying harder to focus on your hunting. And soon, you saw another shimmer of scales heading right your way.

“It feels like you’ve grown a little distant, ever since that night we caught Aevar,” he said, causing you to slip up and narrowly miss the fish. You huffed quietly as you watched it dart away with frantic speed. It seems there was no avoiding this, no matter how hard you wanted to. You stood straight again, looking at him nervously.

“What do you mean?” You asked, hoping it was enough to make up an excuse for. What you hadn’t expected was to see Kíli’s expression so worried, almost afraid. But not the fear one has in danger, no. It seemed like an emotional fear, an anxiety over the anticipation of your conversation. And it seemed you shared it, too.

He chose his next words carefully. “You talk less, at least when you’re around me. You no longer seem to enjoy being near me once we make camp. I just… Is it something I did? Did I make you uncomfortable in some way?” His eyes seemed to hold a slight hurt in them, and it broke you in two to see him in such a way.

You mentally cursed yourself, not realizing in your own emotional troubles that you had also brought Kíli some pain. You quickly shook your head, denying his questions. “No! No, I promise that isn’t it,” you said. But you didn’t know where to go from there, your words catching in your throat. Kíli stepped forward, his boots almost submerging in the river’s waters.

“Then what is it, Y/N?” His voice always spoke your name so beautifully, so delicately, and you wanted to tell him that, but now wasn’t the time. You weren’t even sure if you could bring yourself to tell him. You yourself didn’t even fully understand how you felt towards him, and it seemed to only bring frustration to you, especially right now when all you wanted to do was shout about how you couldn’t erase his smile from your mind.

“I…” you tripped over your own thoughts, finding yourself frustrated to tears that you couldn’t even say such a simple thing. But then again, it wasn’t simple. Not to you, at least. “You don’t bring me discomfort,” you reassured. “I just… There’s so much in my mind right now, and I have no idea how to tell you about any of it.”

Kíli took a step further, now in the waters with you as he approached, his hands reaching out for your own. Gingerly, you took them, drawing a breath. His gaze was so gentle, so patient. “Is there anything I can do to help ease your mind?” he offered, and you frowned, unsure of what would even help at this moment.

“I don’t know,” you said. “I’m not even sure I know what to make of these thoughts for myself, Kíli.”

“Then tell me what ails you,” he said. “And I will do my best to help.”

You exhaled, nodding as you collected your thoughts. “It…” you started nervously. “It’s so strange, the way I feel about you. At first, I thought you must have hated me. Why else were you always out to get me with your pranks and your jests? Or your mocking, flirting comments? But as soon as I addressed it, you were so quick to stop…” You looked back at him, and he nodded, begging you to continue. Encouraged, you took a breath.

“And then that night, the night we captured Aevar Godfred, and you patched up my hand… You looked so beautiful then. Your kindness made me feel so many different things, so many things that I haven’t felt in quite some time, if at all. And your words, oh your words!” You chuckled, both frustrated and amused at your current plight. “Every time you speak such beautiful words to me, it’s like reading poetry. But even ink on paper cannot compare to the things you speak of sometimes. And your smile is like starlight; it makes the sun hide away, knowing it cannot shine half as bright. You make me feel so many different things that I cannot begin to explain or understand, Kíli. And it hurts me to see you hurt because of my struggling mind. But I don’t know what to call these things I feel towards you, I really don’t.”

You had gone from smiling to now sad again, realizing that despite getting all of these feelings off of your chest, you still didn’t understand what they meant. Kíli opened his mouth to speak, his eyes glittering again as the stars above reflected in them, but you cut him off short. “But I can’t keep avoiding you anymore, not if it hurts you like this. But I also can’t bear to part from you. My heart, it aches for your smile, for your voice, it aches for you.” You were starting to realize just what your words and feelings met, but you couldn’t bring yourself to admit you might be in love with him until you heard him answer you.

“Oh, amrâlimê,” he smiled, tucking some wisps of your hair back behind your ear. His voice was so delicate as he spoke, and your eyes widened at the use of his native tongue. You had no idea what he had said, and wanted to ask, but knew it wasn’t the time. Not now, at least, when you awaited his answer. Your eyes searched his, anxious and confused at his smile as you awaited his answer. “Only you can be the one to say what this feeling is, but I can finally admit in confidence that I too feel the same.” He brought your hands to his lips, kissing them gently, despite them smelling of fish.

“You’ve set my heart on fire,” he said. “And no matter how you try to put it out, there will always still be at least one ember burning brightly, smoking only for you. My heart burns for you, amrâlimê. I burn for you.”

“You know your heart so well,” you smiled, feeling immensely happy at his words. “But how can you know for sure that it is I who it belongs to?”

He stepped forward, closing the gap between you two even moreso, his left hand coming to rest on your cheek, and you leaned into his touch as he wiped a runaway tear away. “You might not like this, but I’ve known it ever since I hid your clothes that day in the river.” You laughed, finding yourself amused by this.

“Really?” You chuckled, poking fun. “Making me miserable made you fall for me?”

He grinned, laughing. “I was never doing it to make fun. Well, maybe a little. But every comment, every joke, every prank, that was my way of telling you I liked you, though I’m a little embarrassed that they were interpreted so wrongly.”

“Every comment?” You mused. “Even the ones about wanting to see me-”

“Yes, but that’s not the point right now,” he cut you off, embarrassed. “Those words are for a different mood entirely, not right now. But yes… They were all true.” He muttered the last sentence, avoiding your eyes as you laughed. It was all falling into place in your mind. How could you have been so stupid, so blind by your determination towards the mission?

“Kíli…” you breathed, and his eyes met yours once more as you looked at him nervously. “Can I kiss you?”

He smiled, all too happy at the question. “Of course, amrâlimê. Always, now and forever.”

And slowly, as your eyes darted between his own and his lips, you leaned in, meeting his lips in a soft and light kiss. The act itself was quite foreign to you, but it felt right. Gingerly, your hand went up to his face, and his other hand moved up to gently place itself over your hair as your lips danced together in a beautiful song sung by the words you two had just exchanged. His lips were slightly worn and rough from the journey, but you didn’t care as you wrapped your injured hand around the back of his neck for support as you leaned in. It was such a lovely thing between you, a token of your mutual feelings for one another, that you thought you could kiss him like this forever. But all too soon, you pulled away at the sound of much heavier footsteps, your senses going on alert. Kíli did too, taking a step back to look behind him.

“What’s going on down there?” It was Dwalin, and he sounded quite annoyed. “You two have taken so long we thought you drowned.”

Kíli laughed and you breathed a sigh of relief that it hadn’t been some stranger. “I can assure you, we didn’t drown!” He called back, causing you to look away in embarrassment, eagerly grabbing the fish.

“Well if you don’t hurry back, then I’ll make sure it happens myself!” Dwalin warned, casting a disappointed glare before finally leaving the riverbank. You sighed again, this time out of anxiety. But the grin of a madman that lied on Kíli’s face was more than enough to raise your spirits again.

“Amrâlimê,” he said, walking up to you as he grabbed the remainder of the fish from your hunt. “I love you. And I understand if you need more time to think upon it, but I want you to know how I feel. I’ve never been more sure of anything. When we’re back home, I want to show you just what you mean to me, if that’s alright with you.”

You drew a breath, finding yourself speechless at his declaration of love. Thinking for a moment and silently thankful he would give you time to think, you nodded with an eager smile. “Then I’ll be waiting for that day, when it comes.”

Finally, after two months since capturing Aevar, your group had completed the long journey back to the mountain halls of Erebor. It all seemed so long ago from when you had all first set off on this trek, parts of it fading off into distant memory.

You all had been welcomed warmly by Balin and Thorin, and upon the sight both Kíli and Dwalin seemed overjoyed to be back home to their lives and their friends and their families. You and Sigfred were both glad that the journey was now over, but it seemed as though the both of you felt out of place within the stone caverns. After all, you had only come as aid; this wasn’t your home. Though home, for the both of you, seemed so far away. A selfish part of you would’ve preferred to stay here and not worry about the troubles of Gondor, but you could tell Sigfred was itching to return to his homelands in the Wilderland.

Hours later, you were all summoned to a meeting with Thorin, most likely to discuss your success, your rewards, and the new objectives surrounding Aevar Godfred. You weren’t too excited about having to travel back home with him; it was safe to say you had barely tolerated the journey thus far with the cowardly thief. But for tonight, you could relax. After all, there was to be a banquet held in your group’s honor, a celebration of the return of the royal jewels (with tighter security, of course).

Slowly, you came into a side room of one of Erebor’s many halls, finding yourself in a sort of gathering area, a war room of sorts. A strong stone table lined the middle of the room, and you could see Kíli already seated at the end of it. Everyone else had yet to arrive, and you found yourself growing nervous at being alone in the room with the prince. Butterflies tickled inside you as you made your way closer to him, and his eyes lit up upon seeing you. Gods, those deep brown eyes that had you hooked since you first saw them. Only now instead of rivalry and arrogance, love lay behind them.

“Amrâlimê, there you are.” He smiled, standing out of his seat to pull your own chair out for you. Taking your place next to him, you returned the smile as you sat down. “Will you be joining me at the banquet tonight?”

“The banquet?” You said. “I’d like to, yes. But I’m not sure I have anything to wear for such an occasion.”

“Nonsense, you’re perfect the way you are,” he smiled, taking your hand in his as he placed a gentle kiss on it. You couldn’t bite back the smile that crept onto your face again.

“Listen, I’ve been meaning to tell you that-” And just before you could tell the prince how you truly felt, in walked the rest of your party.

“My apologies for my lateness,” Thorin said, followed closely behind by Dwalin and Balin as he sat at the head of the table. Balin, carrying four large pouches, stood beside him. Dwalin sat down just as Sigfred entered, and soon the entire party was seated. “Now, onto business.”

The meeting droned on for about an hour or two, as it began with you all recounting your journey to the King Under the Mountain. You told him all about the journey of capturing Aevar, who you were told was locked away in the dungeons. The whole time, Thorin was silent, his stare unreadable. Finally, after finishing your recollection, he nodded to Balin, who gave each of you one of the heavy pouches. Peeking inside, your eyes widened at the glittering jewels which lay inside. Thorin was no cheat when it came to rewards; this was more than you had ever expected!

“And now to our next ordeal,” he said, and you returned your gaze to the king. “We sent word to Gondor shortly after you left, asking what we were to do with the prisoner. They still request he return with Y/N to Gondor, but not before they send a caravan to aid in the journey back. We expect them to arrive within the next few days.”

You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding, both relieved and upset about the opportunity to return home. Though you missed the White City, you knew that it also meant parting from Kíli, something you weren’t ready to do just yet.

“Y/N, we’ve arranged a room for you to stay here for the time being until the caravan arrives.” Thorin said. You nodded in respect.

“Thank you,” you said. It was all you could let out.

“As for you, Sigfred,” the king turned to the tall man, who seemed much uncomfortable in the stone chair, though he tried his best not to show it. “It seems this is where your service ends. On behalf of Erebor, we thank you. You are welcome anytime within our gates.”

The two men shared a nod of respect, and soon the king stood tall. Or as tall as one could when he was 5’2”.

“I shan’t keep you all any longer. This group is now dismissed, but leave not before treating yourselves to tonight’s banquet, as a token of our thanks to you.” And with a strong nod, he dismissed himself, leaving the room with Balin trailing behind. Sigfred was the next to leave, followed by Dwalin shortly after. You rose from your seat, about to leave when a hand took yours.

It was Kíli. “Y/N, you had something to say earlier, before everyone came in?” He stepped closer towards you, and you had to push away the sad thoughts as best as you could. You didn’t want to risk crying in front of him again.

“Ah, right,” you said, chewing your cheek to keep your voice from breaking. “I’ll be leaving soon, it seems.”

He nodded, sensing your sadness. He shared it. “Yes, it seems so.”

“But I…” you swallowed. “I don’t think I’m ready to go, Kíli.”

He stepped forward again, his hand cupping your cheek. “What is it, my love? What troubles you?” His voice was so soft, and you couldn’t help the tears that slipped past your eye.

“I love you, Kíli,” you breathed. “And I feel so selfish because it’s taken me so long to figure it out and yet I still have to leave.” Tears fell from your eyes as you looked down at the man who had stolen your heart. But he only smiled at you. A small smile, one that hid sadness with hope.

“Amrâlimê,” he spoke. “There is no one else who could occupy my heart the way that you have, and even distance couldn’t change that.” Both of his hands now clasped themselves around yours as he brought them to his heart. “I am yours, Y/N.”

Desperately, you leaned in with the need to feel his lips on yours, and he was much obliged to provide such a thing for you. “Can we just…” you breathed. “For tonight, can we pretend that I’ll stay? Please? Just for tonight.”

He gently placed a kiss on your lips, a smile gracing his features. “As you wish. Tonight, I won’t leave your side. I am yours for as long as you want me.”

The banquet raged on all throughout the night as the flames of the torches and lanterns burned brightly within Erebor. The kingdom was joyous and generous in their celebrations, it seemed, as you witnessed several arrays of meats, meads, and cheeses served on long tables full of drunken dwarves. You relished each bite that came your way, knowing you hadn’t been treated to a feast like this for a while since your journey. Cheers and laughter rang loudly in tandem with the music, of which Kíli was helping to supply. For as long as you had gotten to know him, you found yourself still surprised by him as he wielded a fiddle before you, his smile so wide his eyes squinted tightly when he did. Even the ever-grumpy Dwalin found himself strumming the viol in the throng of musicians that bordered the ballroom!

Which of course, leads us to discuss the ballroom. A huge space in the middle of the banquet’s hall, dwarves and dwarrowdams alike danced like fire lay at their feet, their movements and jumps in accordance with the strong beat of the music that echoed off of the bedrock walls of Erebor. Even Sigfred, who hadn’t shown any hint of a smile on your journey, was cheering wildly as he dragged you onto the dancefloor with him, his tall stature helping to make space for the two of you to dance in the crowd. It was a wonderful night, and you had quite forgotten your troubles of hours earlier.

Soon, you felt arms wrap around your waist, and you turned just in time for Kíli to give you a cheeky wink and whisk you off away from Sigfred in a dance of your own, your bodies syncing up with the rhythm as laughter kept your bodies moving to the beat. Your hands never left his as he jumped about, his hair creating a mess all over his face as his smile grew a slight sheen of sweat from his abundance of movements. Though you were one to talk, as you were sure you were quite sweaty yourself from all the movements you had been putting your body through on the dance floor.

Soon, the previous song ended, and you dragged Kíli off of the floor and back towards the end of the hall where the food and drink lay, your body desperately needing water. Quickly, you found a pitcher, bringing it to your lips.

“My, you’re so quick on your feet! I didn’t take you for a dancer, my love,” he grinned, taking the pitcher from you as he stole a gulp for himself. Gods, you still found yourself getting giddy every time he called you his love.

“And I didn’t take you for a musician,” you said. “You surprised me!”

He smirked, winking at you. “Well, I can guarantee there’s plenty more where that came from.”

You took back the pitcher, raising a brow in curiosity. “Oh? Like what?”

He offered his hand, leaning in closer, a newfound mischievous glint in his eye. “I can show you, but first, why don’t we find somewhere a little more private?” Your heart skipped a beat at his words, knowing their hidden meaning as you set the pitcher down and took his hand, eager to follow with a grin.

He led you through the twists and turns of the stone-carved halls until he eventually brought you through a pair of deep oaken doors to what looked like a beautifully carved bedroom. The stone bed that lay in the center of the room was wide and exquisite, draped with fabric that formed a canopy above the soft mattress below. Shields decorated the walls, along with Kíli’s sword and bow hung on a wall to the left. A fire lay glowing in the fireplace to the right, which glittered with gems that were embedded in the mantelpiece. Another door lay to the right, one that you figured led to the bathroom. This must have been his own bedroom.

He guided you with him as he sat at the foot of the bed, with you taking your seat next to him. “I tried to make it more comfortable, wondering if you’d ever join me here.” He said, and you smiled, still tipsy from the ale as you kissed his cheek.

“It’s gorgeous in here, Kíli. They tell no lies about dwarven hospitality.” You sighed, letting your back hit the mattress until you sat up quickly. Kíli raised a brow.

“What’s wrong?” He said.

“It seems I’m quite winded from dancing,” you said, feeling the back of your shirt. “I’m in need of a proper wash.” You sighed to yourself, amused by how hard you had been going during the party. Kíli took this as an opportunity to feel his own tunic, laughing at his own sweat.

“You’re not the only one, then.” He said. “If you’d like, I can draw you a bath.”

You raised a brow. “You won’t wash up?”

“After you, amrâlimê,” he smiled, planting a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll let you have the hot water first.” You leaned into his touch, smiling. Ever the gentleman, he was, as he got up from where he was seated to go run the bath. But with some new courage, you stood up to follow him, gently taking his arm.

“Or,” you said slowly, stepping closer over the shorter man.

“Or?” He questioned, stepping closer and closing the gap between you two as a mischievous glint sparked in his eyes. “Or what?”

“Or maybe,” you continued. “We could share the hot water? Together?”

“Together?” He said a bit too eagerly, a cough escaping him as he tried to hide his reaction. You smiled at this. “Together, together! Amrâlimê, I’d love to.” He couldn’t hide his grin, too excited about the idea.

“Good,” you said. “So why don’t you draw the bath and I’ll join you in a few minutes?” He shook his head all too eagerly, like a puppy dog when you mention the words “treats”. Quickly, he left you to prepare the bath, and soon you realized just how fast your heart was beating. Where had this sudden boldness come from? You chalked it up to the energy of the party mixing with this ale in your system; yes, that had to be it.

Soon, after ridding yourself of your party clothes (a.k.a. the clothes you had been traveling in for the past few months) and finding a towel to cover up with, you gently knocked on the door to the washroom, your heart hammering in your chest. You heard a distant hum from Kíli on the other side, and took it as your sign to enter.

Opening the door to the dimly lit room, you smiled at the sight of so many candles lit, their flames casting dancing shadows on the walls. A waft of warm, steamy air hit your face as you entered, a relaxing sigh drawing from your lungs at the scent of the woodsy oils he must have used for the water. It was at the end of the room where Kíli sat in the tub, suds covering him as the ends of his hair were damp, a soft smile on his face as his eyes welcomed you in. You felt all warm inside, he made you feel so safe.

Which was good for your nerves, as was the dim lighting, as you crept closer to the tub until you were now standing in front of him. He looked at you with admiration in his eyes as he offered his hands to ease you into the tub. Gently, you took them, letting the towel fall to the floor and trying so hard to meet his gaze as you heard a small gasp leave his lips. Slowly, you crept into the tub, and he guided you to sit in front of him, leaning your back against his chest as he peppered your shoulder with kisses and soothing rubs.

“Amrâlimê,” he whispered in between kisses. “You’re beautiful…”

“Really?” You asked, a part of yourself feeling unsure as to believe him.

“Even the greatest masters of stone in Erebor could not carve a figure as divine as yours,” he said, and you felt your face heat up. You couldn’t help the smile that slipped into your face. “Mahal took great care when he thought of you, my darling.”

“Let me see you,” you said, now eagerly wanting to gaze upon your newfound love. You turned your head to look at him, to which he chuckled as he sat up straighter in the warm waters of the tub. You twisted yourself now to face him, your eyes transfixed on his own figure, which was worn and weathered with hair and scars of years past. His body was history itself, like a book you so desperately wanted to read. Carefully, you hovered your hand over his chest before letting it land right over his heart. His heartbeat was steady; so calm, so soothing. You could fall asleep listening to it.

“It beats for you, amrâlimê,” he said, bringing your gaze back up to his face. “Only you.”

You leaned closer, dangerously closer, as your other hand went up to cup his cheek. Your noses touched from how close you two had gotten, and you thought that you wouldn’t be able to breathe unless he exhaled. Your eyes flitted to his lips for a split second, but the young prince keenly caught it. “Show me,” you said, and with those words you began a wild night for yourself.

Kíli closed the gap between you two, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss that was slow and full of young love. His hands roamed from your face to your shoulders until they found their places in the curve of your hips, holding you closer to him. In an effort to be more comfortable, you sat between his outstretched legs, sitting back on your knees in the sudsy water. He smiled into the kiss, a culmination of all his feelings for you taking over as your hands reached his hair, tugging lightly. That was all the encouragement he needed.

Pulling you closer, the kiss slowly became more intense, filled with more passion and even more pent up urges. His thumbs carved their prints in your hips, and you let out a small whine from the feeling. Quickly, he pulled back, chest heaving from lack of breath as concern laced his brow. “Is everything alright? Did I hurt you?” His eyes darted across your features as you flushed in the dim room.

“Quite the opposite, I promise.” You said. “Do it again.” And with a crazed smile, he dove back into your lips.

Soon his tongue made a quick swipe between your lips, and you let him in with open arms and a drawn out whine as he deepened the kiss between you, your tongues dancing with each other as you found yourself hooked on his taste. You wanted more of it, and desperately.

Wanting to change it up, you moved your kisses to his jaw, trailing down lower and lower until you found your perfect battlefield: the little dip between his neck and his shoulder. With eager intensity, you bit down softly, tracing little kisses and bites wherever you could, resulting in a breathy groan leaving his lips. “Y/N…” his voice whined, needy and full of want, and you couldn’t help but smirk as you came back up.

“Yes?” You feigned innocence, wrapping your arms around his neck as you looked down at your love, and he sat up, his grip on your hips tightening a little as he found his opportunity to attack your own neck.

You gasped as the touch, a small sigh leaving your lips as he placed love bite after love bite until he found the one spot that left you weak. “Fuck,” you breathed out a moan and you felt him smile against your skin. “I need you, Kíli. Please.”

“Begging already?” He smiled. “Amrâlimê, we only just started. Now relax, my love. I’ve barely begun.”

A small huff left your lips as his own returned to your neck, peppering in a few more bites that would later develop into beautiful bruises before trailing down to your breasts. His touch as delicate as his tongue darted out to lick a stripe over your nipple before taking it into his mouth, rolling his tongue around the swell of it as his eyes never left yours. Your breath hitched, and you felt yourself growing more and more needy, rubbing your legs together for some sort of friction as the warm water was beginning to feel much, much hotter. Your hands dug into his hair, tugging and twirling as his tongue danced shapes over the swell of your breast, biting softly. A moan escaped your lips in surprise.

His hands now moved from your hips to your inner thighs, gently pushing them apart as you helped him spread your legs. His calloused fingers, which were softened by the water, traced circles on the inner part of your thighs, slowly inching their way closer and closer to your heated core. “Come now, Y/N,” he purred, pressing a kiss to your breast before shifting to give the other one some attention. “You can get louder, can’t you?”

With a shaky breath, you nodded, and he smiled in return, his fingers ghosting along your slit until he gently pressed one further, allowing it to slide into you with ease. You couldn’t help the delicious groan that left your lips as you finally began to feel some sort of stimulation down there that you desperately needed, your hips rocking to swallow his finger up to the very knuckle. You wanted more, and he was more than happy to oblige, dipping a second finger into you as his thumb found your clit, delicately tracing shapes onto it. You clenched around his fingers as they slid in and out of you with curved expertise.

“That feels so good,” you mewled, your voice carrying out as a whine, and you were rewarded with a kiss as Kíli brought his lips to yours. His fingers slowly began to quicken their pace, his thumb never leaving your most sensitive bundle of nerves as his lips enveloped yours in a sloppy kiss. You broke away, needing to breathe as soft moans and pants left your lips. “Faster, please Kíli.”

“As you wish, my love,” he smiled, placing a kiss on your jawline as his fingers now curled inside your tight walls, the water beneath you sloshing with his rapid movements as his thumb continued its unrelenting attack on your clit. “I only exist to please you. That’s all I want to do right now.” You could feel yourself building up inside, the tension pulling at every nerve in your body as you could sense you were almost ready to snap. You looked down at him with hungry eyes, now seeing that he too was quite aroused, his erection poking out of the waters as he worked his magic on you. But just as you were about to bring it up, you felt yourself snap, a string of broken moans and whines leaving your lips as your vision blurred for a split second and you felt yourself come completely undone. But Kíli didn’t stop there, no. He continued his torture, keeping up his pace to allow you to ride out your high until he slowly came to a stop, pulling his fingers out of you.

You fell forward onto him and his strong arms caught you, tucking away some of the hair that had fallen in your face. He looked at you again with awe, drawing you in for a chaste kiss. “You look so beautiful when you’re wrapped around my fingers,” he said, a smile on his lips. But you weren’t done, no. You brought him in for a kiss of your own, a needy groan resounding in his throat as your fingers delicately went down to wrap themselves around his length. He shuddered at the touch, and that one act of his was more than enough to make you ready for another round of fun.

Gently, you ran your hand up and down the length of his shaft, bringing your thumb up to rub small circles over his slit, which was eagerly leaking pre-cum in your hand. “Please, amrâlimê, I can’t handle your teasing,” he whined.

“Begging already, are we?” You whispered in a mocking tone, mimicking his words from earlier as you lowered your face to his solid member, placing a kiss on his swollen tip. His breathing hitched, his eyes clouded with want. “But I thought we were only getting started?” His hips raised out of the water to give you better access as you placed teasing kisses along the length of him, your tongue licking a stripe that led you back to his tip until you took him into your mouth. He moaned loudly at the touch, his hips bucking ever-so-noticeably, and you felt so powerful in this moment. Slowly, you lowered your head along his length, wanting to see just how much of him you could take into him before you swallowed around him, causing him to curse.

“A-amrâlimê,” he stuttered. “Please.” His voice was so breathy, so whiny. You loved it.

Slowly, you began bobbing your head along his shaft, your hands busy with keeping your body from falling over him as your hair fell in your face. Ever the gentleman he was, he was quick to tuck your hair back and grasp it in his fist, careful not to force your head despite how much he wanted to feel you gag on him. His hips bucked again as you kept getting faster and faster, wanting to bring him to completion before he quickly grabbed your throat, forcing you to meet his face as he brought you in a forced kiss.

You pulled away to look at him as his chest rose and fell dramatically, breath leaving his body in his aroused state. “Did you not want me to-” You spoke in a confused lilt, but he cut you off.

“No, not before I feel you again,” he breathed. “I’m already jealous that I didn’t get to taste you first, my love.” You smiled, chuckling as you brought his hands to your hips again, letting him guide you over his length. There you hovered, bringing him in for a kiss in the hopes it would distract you from any pain that was soon to come.

“Kíli, I love you,” you breathed in between kisses. “I’ve never wanted anyone to touch me as badly as I do now with you.” His tip rubbed against your core, and you let out a small whine. “Please, I need to feel you inside me already.”

“Oh Mahal…” That was all the motivation he needed, it seemed, for soon he sunk you quickly onto his length, splashing some water around you as you cried out at the delicious feeling of him stretching you out, his length already reaching places you had yet to even discover about yourself. You let out a string of curses, all moans, as you clenched around him in delicious pleasure. Gods, he felt amazing. You rolled your hips over him, craving some more of that delicious friction you had felt earlier, and you felt him shudder again. Gods, it turned you on to see his eyes glazed over like that, looking at you with such want and love that you wanted to consume him.

“Amrâlimê, let me show you just how much I feel for you,” he said. “Let me take care of you.” Slowly, he rolled his hips in tandem with your own, slipping in and out of you with ease as his thumb quickly found purchase over your clit again, rubbing slowly in tandem with his thrusts. The water around you sloshed and splashed with your movements, but that was the least of your cares as pleasure rocked through you, tearing you piece by piece until you were nothing but putty to be kneaded by the man you loved, who thrusted into you with increased pace with each movement. He was hitting every spot inside you, filling you so deliciously until he eventually found your sweet spot inside, causing a moan to rip from your lungs.

“Fuck, Kïli,” you said, your mind melting and only thinking of the pleasure he was bringing you as his own moans rang in your ears. “Right there, please. Don’t stop!” You felt that same pressure building up in you, the tension pushing and pulling as you looked at Kíli with lust-filled eyes. His own eyes met your gaze as he planted more kisses on and between your breasts, biting and pinching at the skin as he maintained his pace, but he too was beginning to feel the tension you had so intensely started earlier.

With shared moans that echoed and bounced off of the stone walls, you found yourself coming undone around Kíli, pleasure taking over as he helped you once again ride out your second orgasm. Your skin felt like it was going numb while being on fire all at once, and you relished every moment of it with ragged breathing. With a few more thrusts, Kíli too came, pulling out of you just in time to avoid any unprecedented consequences as his back hit the walls of the tub, his breathing uneven as he gently pulled you into him, kissing all over your face which held a small sheen of sweat from both the party and your latest festivities.

“I’ve wanted this for a while now,” he said, his voice soft as he kissed your forehead. “It seems as though all my thoughts of you are improper as of late.” You chuckled, leaning into his touch.

“Well then we’ll have to spend more time exploring those thoughts, now won’t we?” You teased, and a fired up groan sprang from Kíli’s lips as he brought you into another kiss.

“I’d love nothing more, amrâlimê.”

And for a while, you two stayed like this, with not a care in the world of whatever was going on in it. For now, you could focus on nothing other than the intermingling of your two heartbeats. Time seemed to slow down for you two as the candlelight danced on the walls, and you were content. Because in this moment, nothing else mattered except for you and your son of Durin. Not the fact that soon you would have to leave Erebor entirely, nor the fact that there were probably some people searching for you two at the banquet. All that mattered right here, right now, was how much you were in love with this man and wanted to be with him. Nothing else.

“Come on,” your love said. “Now we really need to wash up.”

“pick a prompt!”

this prompt post is no longer applicable for requests.

author’s note: so basically, as a way to try and engage with my audience (and work on characterization) i wanted to do this fun little lottery but with LOTR/Hobbit characters! just send in an ask with any character and any of the below listed prompts (which i plucked from pinterest), and I’ll write a short piece using both! i’m really excited for this one and hope you guys enjoy!

dialogue prompts:

“Excuse me. I have to go make a scene.”

“Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?”

“Why would I help someone like you?”

“You’re losing my interest, and that is very dangerous.”

“Everything here can kill you, but I can do it most efficiently.”

“Everything you do has a touch of magic to it.”

situation prompts:

Rivals forced to be allies for a competition.

Out of all the people who had to get sick, it had to be you, the medic.

You’re a scribe who keeps getting hired to write the most silly and insane things.

Your secret relationship has finally been found out.

Your lover’s final moments.

You found out your love will stay unrequited.

studio ghibli prompts:

(these are more abstract ones that allow me more creative freedom)

My Neighbor Totoro

Princess Mononoke

Kiki’s Delivery Service

Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind

Castle In the Sky

Howl’s Moving Castle

Hi! Could you please write a dialogue prompt 4 with Thranduil? Thanks!

“the interrogation”

author’s note: of course! this prompt seems very canon as something the elf king himself would say, so i’m excited to dive into this for you <3 I'm gonna stray a little further from my normal way of writing Y/N by making them a person who somehow woke up in their favorite book, “The Hobbit”!

Pairing: Thranduil / Gender-Neutral Human Reader

Word Count: 886

summary: after waking up in the world of your comfort book, you find yourself in the midst of a terrifying power: the Elvenking.

content warnings: I mixed the lore of the book and the movies together for this

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

Anxiety rushed through your body as your heart seemed to be leaping out of your chest with each beat. You were being led through the twists and turns of some sort of extravagant castle as two elven guards held you firmly by the arms. Where they were taking you, you weren’t sure. A tiny voice in the back off your head wondered if you were dreaming, but the pain from the guards’ grips was more than enough to reassure you that this was your new reality.

How you had come to find yourself in this new world was beyond the comprehension of your mind. The last thing you remembered was being curled up on your soft, worn-down couch while reading your favorite book, "The Hobbit". It was a tale you knew well, as you had read it countless times when in need of a pick-me-up. You hadn't seen all of the movies yet, as you usually fell asleep halfway through the second one, but the book was usually enough to satiate you. It had been another cozy night of reading when you had fallen asleep in the middle of the chapter "Flies and Spiders", and the next thing you knew, you had awoken in some sort of woodland realm!

Oh, how you desperately wished you could return to your cozy couch and your soft blankets, but it seemed those pleasantries were far away from you now, and incredibly out of reach. 

More twists and turns led you to a wide room, all entirely made of tree branches and wood. In the center lied a magnificent throne of ancient antlers, its steps leading down to the space you now occupied. A cold, regal voice cut through your thoughts, and suddenly your eyes shot up to look at the person before you.

"First you have me deal with lowly dwarves, and now there's another? Who are you?" He sat proudly on his throne, and you found yourself speechless at his beauty. His long hair draped over his shoulders delicately as you met his cold gaze. He was like a star, cold and distant and icy. You couldn't believe the sight before you. Slowly, things started connecting in your mind. Dwarves, elven guards, oh no.

This was Thranduil, the Elvenking of Mirkwood. And your very life had now been placed in his beautiful hands.

"We found this one an hour ago, reports say they simply appeared in a cloud of smoke before the gates," one of the guards said, and the king's brow tensed. He wasn't happy.

"Some dark magic, then?" He stood, slowly descending the stairs as he approached you. "And yet, you come without weapons or anything other than the clothes on your back. Tell me, who are you?"

"Y/N," you said, finally finding your words. "And you must be Thranduil, King of the elves.” You spoke carefully, treading lightly with your words.

“So you know who I am,” he said. “Good, then you must know of my intolerance for outsiders. Speak quickly of your intentions and perhaps I’ll do you the mercy of imprisoning you.”

“Prison?” You said, eyes wide. Oh no, you couldn’t imagine living the rest of your life in the prisons of Mirkwood.

“I’d speak quickly if I were you,” he warned. “You’re losing my interest, and that is very dangerous.”

You searched your brain for the words to speak, now panicking. “I came here from another realm!” You said, trying to re-iterate your predicament in a fashion that suggested you were much more wise than you found yourself to be. After all, you knew this story like the back of your hand, and it was the only leverage you seemed to have right now. “Another realm filled with scrolls, and I am the reader of those scrolls.”

“What scrolls do you speak of?” He raised his brow, leaning closer.

“Scrolls of the histories of this land. I know the past, I’ve read the present, and I’ve seen the future!” You had no idea where you were going with this; at the very least, you were trying to save the skin on your back. And you were hoping to god that your favorite author’s tomes could help you.

“Such as? Prove to me you’re not some petty liar.”

“You’ve imprisoned Thorin Oakenshield and his company for his refusal to pay you back that which was rightfully yours!” Please believe me, you thought. “He aims to reclaim the Lonely Mountain and defeat the dragon that lies in its depths.”

“So you’re a liar and a spy. Guards, take them away.”

“No, please!” You cried out desperately. “The gems, they were for your wife! The White Gems of Lasgalen!”

The king froze in his place as he returned to his throne. Finally, you thought. Surely you had him now! He raised a pale hand that was decorated with rings, his voice cutting through you as he issued out another order.

“Guards, unhand them.” He said, turning around to face you as he approached. You swallowed hard, your heart thrumming in your chest as everything seemed so unknown right now. Time seemed to freeze as you fell to your knees, your limbs now free.

“It seems that you would know more than I would like,” he chirped. “So enlighten me, Y/N. What else do you know?”

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.”

here’s my middle-earth playlist

i made a fun little playlist that was meant to give a cozy hobbit ambience, but lately i’ve been finding dwarven and elvish kind of vibe songs to add. anyways, i just wanted to share it with y’all if you guys were interested <3

Hi there, I hope you have a good day 😊

I was wondering about your prompt list, and I really like the dialogue prompt 2 and situation prompt 4. And if you would be comfortable with writing something based on this I would really appreciate it😊

"wishes on starlight"

author's note: what a combo! this one actually had me stumped for a bit on how to tackle it, so I applaud you for helping me work through my current writer's block. this also gave me a chance to work on my dividers (I made them a little thinner, and so far I like it). also, I'm not sure which character you wanted for this, so I took the liberty of choosing for you :)

based on this prompt post!!

Pairing: Kíli / Gender-Neutral Human Reader

Word Count: 7,367

summary: when trouble came in the form of unexpected guests, you never expected to give your heart away so easily...

content warnings: I pull more background from the book versus the movies in this one for the sake of Beorn (love him but he might be a little OOC), fluff, yearning, mutual pining, angst <333

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

For all your life, the buzz of oversized bees had been nothing but comforting to your ears. A gentle reminder of kinder times. But today your fuzzy friends had been buzzing with curiosity and uncertainty. You had heard it earlier just after the master of the house had left but had paid no mind to it. After all, you had chores to be done around the house.

Soon, Beorn had returned from checking on the bees in his surrounding pastures. He came in with his usual rough countenance, his face worn from the sun and the smell of honey and oak lingering about him. You had heard him come in all the way from the back of the house, his heavy feet making thumps on the hardwood floors. There was no need to greet him; you knew well that the skin-changer liked his loneliness. Thinking back on it, you were surprised he let you stay with him at all when he could have easily given you away or left you in the woods all those years ago. You smiled to yourself as you folded some of the leftover laundry, thinking of the tall man’s kindness. 

But your thoughts soon drifted away as more thumps and stomps could be heard, this time coming from the back of the house where the stables were located. Curious, you abandoned your laundry and followed the sound to see some of your friends stamping the ground with a worrying intensity. Their hooves dug into the ground beneath them, and you furrowed your brows in worrying confusion. “Is everything alright, what is it?” You asked them, and it sounded like animal noises turned into talk, for you had come to learn the language of Beorn’s animals in all your time with him. The only language that seemed to escape you was that of his own bear tongue.

“Strangers,” they said. “We saw strangers on the eastern side.” You bit the inside of your cheek, worrying what outsiders could imply for your comfort and home. 

“You should go tell him, then,” you said, referring to Beorn. “They may try to wander this way.”

“And if they do?” They asked, their well-groomed hair shining as it caught the light when they stamped their hooves.

“That’s for him to find out,” you said, nodding. After all, he was the master of the house. Your friends were also quick to leave you as they made their way to the entrance of the house to let Beorn know of what they had seen. You sighed to yourself, hoping nothing troublesome would come out of it. But of course, you had to be wrong.

Trouble soon came to your doorstep fifteen-fold as thirteen dwarves, a hobbit, and a tall grey wizard joined you all for dinner that night. You yourself hadn’t come out into the dining hall to join them yet, still skeptical of them all. It wasn’t common for a group of this size to be openly wandering in the Wilderland. You wondered about their purpose, and whispered about it with your friends in the back of the house. But this time, you spoke with the greyhounds of the house instead of the horses.

“Y/N, you missed it,” one said with excitement. “They told such a grand story of how they came to find themselves here. Full of adventure, it was!”

“Yes, yes! They’ve been through all kinds of adventures, both scary and jolly,” said another. 

“And what did Beorn think of these adventures?” You had asked.

“Why, he loved it!” They said. “He knows not if it was the truth, but it was still a grand story nonetheless!”

“Then I suppose I shall have to see for myself,” you said, and off you went to join the dinner party with a twitch in your skeptical brow. Through the corridors, you found yourself in the dining hall, the light from the fireplace dancing about and casting warm shadows on the walls. For a moment, you were taken aback at the sight of such company. The wooden hall had not seen this many people or even such a gathering as this for quite some time. So long, in fact, that you couldn’t seem to remember your edge you had experienced earlier, your suspicion melting away for a moment as you realized how lovely it seemed to have company.

Who knows for how long you stood there watching, but it was enough for the grey wizard man to notice you, as he raised a brow and asked a question to Beorn after seeing you. Shifting in his chair at the head of the table, Beorn invited you over with a wave of his hand. “Y/N, come feast with us. I was just about to tell them about the woods of this land.”

Reluctantly, you joined him, sitting down on an empty seat that one of your sheep friends brought. Many of the company had already had more than their fair share and then some of food, and you wondered if all dwarves had appetites like this. It wasn’t nearly as much as Beorn ate, nor was it even comparable to say their appetites were rivals, but it still caught your eye nonetheless. Perhaps it was because you had never seen a dwarf, let alone so many at once. “And who is this?” The wizard asked, seated at the other end of the table. 

“Why, this is Y/N. They are my groundskeeper,” Beorn said. You gave him a small nod in acknowledgement, thankful for the introduction.

“A groundskeeper, you say?” One of the dwarves asked. He seemed to be the oldest, with a long white beard that certainly rivaled Beorn’s. And won. “I’d think such a job wouldn’t be necessary with all the help you have from your animals.”

Beorn laughed at this as you slowly began to eat, tearing apart a small honey cake that had caught your eye. “And still with all this help, I have need for more. Y/N helps where they can, and I am grateful.”

You smiled, grateful for such words, though it wasn’t the whole story. Indeed, while you did help around the grounds whenever he was away, it was a little more than just that. Twenty years ago, Beorn’s greyhounds had found you at the edges of Mirkwood’s daunting trees, abandoned by your parents who had wandered into the dark forest. On the first day when his greyhounds told him, Beorn didn’t even bother to come see. Humans were dumb creatures, and far more bold and stupid than he. On the second day, he came to look at you; you were crying and whining from lack of food or water, and he felt a bit of pity. But still, he did nothing, leaving you out in the summer sun in the event your parents would return. But on the third day, when no trace of your parents were left, Beorn knew they had most likely succumbed to the forest. It was only then that he took you in and raised you as his equal, feeding you berries and honey and cakes.

“The animals do much for us, and I in return help them,” you clarified, taking a drink of mead. The fermented liquid warmed your throat as it made its way down.

The rest of the night went smoothly, and soon your suspicions were beginning to evaporate as you all grew to enjoy each other’s company, telling stories of your own lives and such. Beorn cared not for the tales of gold and treasure from the dwarves, but you found yourself fascinated by every outlandish detail. Gems that sparkle just like the stars? You had never seen such a thing, and it puzzled you to think of just how much about the world you didn’t know.

You found yourself enjoying the stories of the little hobbit the most, as his tales seemed much more relatable, filled with carrots, flowers, and farming. He was even a bit of a gardener, which prompted you to ask thousands of questions about plants and the like. Indeed, the night went on much like this, filled with chatter and mead and firelight. Soon, Beorn retired early, heading to the back of the house where he could leave without being noticed. He seemed concentrated on something, and you wondered if he was going to check the credibility of how the dwarves had come to your home. But for now, it was just you and the wizard and the hobbit and the dwarves, who soon began to trickle out to the beds the animals had laid out for them as they dozed off.

You found yourself wide awake this night, sleep escaping you as the white beams of the high moon trickled in from the skylights above in the roofing. Many of the animals had gone to bed as well, the normal sounds of paws and hooves pounding on the wooden floors now absent amidst the quiet deafness of the night. You had kept the fire going up until now, as the final embers slowly began their own descent into death. It was nights like this where your mind seemed to conjure the wildest dreams, both in sleep and while you were awake. You imagined jewels like the dwarves had spoken of, glittering white like pure starlight. You wondered if there were jewels of other various colors, too. Did some shimmer like the scales of the fish in the river? Was it possible for them to glow like the sun on a hot summer day? These were the thoughts on your mind as you lay in the slivers of moonlight shining down on the floor.

But these thoughts were soon interrupted as you heard footsteps approaching. It wasn’t Beorn, for surely he was still out. No, these feet were much smaller and more stout as one of the dwarves had come out from his sleep, his eyes bleary in the dark of the night. It was one of the younger ones, the archer who had sat next to Balin. Kíli, you thought, trying to remember his name. “Can I help you?” You said.

“I heard growling coming from outside these walls,” he whispered through sleepiness. “It woke me up.”

“Ah, so he is near,” you said, muttering mostly to yourself. You must have been too accustomed to such noises as to notice them. “It’s nothing dangerous, as long as you don’t go outside.”

“It’s just as the wizard said, then,” he said, coming closer. “Beorn… does he really… I mean, can he really change his skin?”

“All the time,” you nodded. “But he does it most at night, when he can freely wander these lands.”

“Mahal…” he muttered. It seems he hadn’t believed the wizard earlier, but hearing your words seemed to sway him. “And what of you? Are you also like him?”

“Me?” You scoffed, shaking your head. “No, I’m afraid I’m more ordinary in that sense. I am nothing more than a man.”

“You’re nothing ordinary if you’re living in such a fine home as this,” he said, and soon he sat himself near you in the moonlight. You didn’t object. “And why are you awake so late in the night?”

“Ah,” you smiled. “I can’t sleep. It seems your stories at dinner have fed my thoughts too well.”

Now it was his turn to chuckle, and you found yourself smiling at his laugh. “So you dream while awake, then? I imagine that’s quite lovely.”

“Do you dream often?” You asked, curious of dwarves and their habits.

Silence fell over him for a moment as his expression fell. “Not lately. At least, not nice ones. The journey has gotten hold over my dreams, for now all I see are frightening images when I close my eyes.”

You frowned, feeling sympathy for the poor dwarf. “I’m sorry to hear that, I didn’t mean to bring up such scary things.”

He gave a small smile at your words, shaking his head. “Don’t worry; I’ve become too used to it lately. I’m glad the growls woke me up, it helped me break free of such dreams for the night.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, wracking your brain for any thought of how to help this man. “Perhaps,” you said. “Perhaps you can tell me of your more beautiful dreams, then?” You scooted yourself closer to him, his hair shining in the moonlight as his eyes met yours.“Alright then,” he smiled, a rosy glow about him. And so the night went on, as he told you wild dreams of hunting and adventure and even ridiculous ones that seemed like utter nonsense.

The next day, as you were tending the gardens in the front yard, Kíli had seemed to want more of your presence. Whenever he wasn’t in discussion with his kin and peers, he was wandering the grounds and looking for you. It didn’t take him long to find you covered in dirt in the morning sun as you worked to check on your carrot and potato plants. “Good morning,” you said. “Did you manage to get any rest last night?”

“I did, yes,” he said, nodding. “Though I had no dreams.”

“Well,” you rose, dusting the soil off of your knees. “I suppose no dreams are better than bad ones.”

“Agreed,” he said, humming in delight. He quite enjoyed talking to you. “And what of you? Did you sleep well?”

“I never slept,” you said, chuckling. “When we parted ways, I still couldn’t find myself tired. Your tales kept me awake yet again. So here I am, still up and about.”

“You astound me,” he looked at you with a twinkle of awe in his eyes. “I’ve been on the journey for quite some time and even I cannot operate well without sleep.”

You sighed, now stepping out of the plant box as you dusted your feet off in the grass. “While it may be more cozy than your travels, I can assure you I am kept well busy. There’s always much to do around the house, especially when Beorn is away.”

“I see,” he stooped, scratching the back of his head. He wanted to say more, but didn’t know how to do so. For once in a very long while, he was anxious in his conversation.

A quiet breeze silenced the both of you now as you both sat in the slight tension that had been caused, but you were quick to get back to work, fetching the water pail so you could rinse the dirt off of you, not wanting to track it into the house. “Well, is there anything I could help you with?” You asked, noticing he still hadn’t left yet. You didn’t necessarily want him to leave, but you didn’t understand why he would stay, either.

“Oh, right. Well,” he muttered, trying to find himself again. Then he drew a breath, and finally met your gaze. “I wanted to ask you of your dreams.” He smiled, and it seemed to beam brighter than the sun itself, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. It was very lovely to see.

“My dreams?” You repeated, raising a brow. “What of them?”

“Last night,” he said, stepping forward to approach you. “Our conversation about dreams and thoughts, it made me wonder what kinds you have, if you have any of your own.”

“If I ever have my own thoughts?” You scoffed.

“Oh my, no! I meant dreams,” he corrected, very quickly too. He seemed a bit nervous. “I loved our conversation, but it felt one-sided. I wanted to know more about you.”

“You’re so forward, Master Dwarf,” you teased, and finally you stopped fiddling with your clothes and the water. “Well, what would you like to know?” You guided him to the other side of the garden where a large oak tree stood, inviting him to sit with you beneath it.

“I suppose whatever you’d like to tell me,” he smiled. “Starting with your dreams?”

“Ah, my dreams,” you nodded, humming to yourself. “If I’m being honest, I forget many of my dreams. They always escape me quickly when I wake up, you see. But I do remember one distinctly.” You smiled as the memory came to mind, thinking on it fondly. Kíli nodded at this, encouraging you to continue. “It started with me gazing at the sky, something I often like to do, when all of a sudden the stars seemed to come alive, dancing and jumping like rabbits in the sky.”

“Rabbits?” He asked, thoroughly intrigued.

“Indeed,” you answered. “And they were brilliant in color, too! With so many shades of blues and greens I have never seen since then. They seemed to come down from the sky and join me, dancing with me in the grass.”

“Do you think of rabbits when you see the stars now?” He said, a smile on his face as he imagined it for himself.

“No, not as rabbits. I think of friends,” you said, smiling softly. “I like to think each star that twinkles is a friend, whether or not I’ve met them yet.”

“Sounds rather warm and fuzzy,” he chuckled.

“Do you disagree?” You asked, raising a brow.

“No, it’s just,” he thought for a moment before he continued. “I always thought it is a cold light, stars. Distant and far away.”

“Well, sometimes friends are far from reach,” you said, drawing a breath. “But that doesn’t take their warmth away whenever you embrace them, does it?”

He smiled, eyes taking you in for a moment, and this was the first time where you couldn’t read his expression. You flushed, clearing your throat to avoid the tension. You felt so seen, but so much so that it made you nervous.

“I’ve seen the stars dance before, once,“ you said, trying to shift the subject. Something about the way that he looked at you made you feel all warm inside, and you didn’t know why. “Three shots across the sky all at once, passing beyond the moon and the mountain.” 

“I saw a fire moon once,” he said, and you turned your head in curiosity, silently begging him to continue. “It rose over the pass near Dunland. Huge. Red and gold, it was. It filled the sky.”

“I saw it too!” You grinned, recognizing now of what he spoke. “It peeked over the mountains right over there.” You pointed to the Misty Mountains, showing him where you had seen it. He grinned, turning to face you.

“It was so bright, there was no need for a torch,” he said, and you nodded in agreement. “Oh, it made the caverns shine. I wish I could show you.”

“Perhaps if our paths meet again, you can,” you said, placing your hand over his. He stared at your gesture for a moment before meeting your eyes again, smiling. He nodded.

“I will. I promise.”

Soon, you were interrupted by two beautiful horses approaching you, and you realized you still hadn’t finished your chores for the day. You quickly rose to your feet, brushing yourself off as you offered him a hand. He took it, and you helped him up. “My apologies, but it seems I must return to my duties.” You explained.

“I understand,” he nodded. “I should return to the others.”

You nodded back in acknowledgement and began to walk away when suddenly he caught your arm in his hand, causing you to turn back to face him with a puzzled look on your face.

“Y/N,” he said. “Will I see you again?”

You thought for a moment, envisioning your schedule in your mind. “I live here, so of course,” you said, and he smiled at this. “Tonight.”

“Perhaps you can show me your friends in the sky, then.” He said, and suddenly that weird warm feeling returned in your cheeks.

You didn’t see many of the dwarves for the rest of the day, save for Ori and Dori who seemed positively captivated by the wildflowers that grew in the lush grass surrounding Beorn’s home. Gandalf soon returned to the house as well, just before sunset, a tip of his hat bidding you a welcome as you smiled in return. It seemed he had been rather busy out all day, following along the bear tracks Beorn and his friends had left.

You soon finished much of your chores, ending them by harvesting the honey from the oversized bees just as the sun changed the sky to brilliant shades of pink and orange. You looked up in awe, taking the moment in for just a second as a gentle breeze blew from the mountains. You wondered if the dwarves knew of any gems that looked like a fiery sunset such as this one. Perhaps you would ask Kíli about it later.

When you returned inside from the back of the house, you noted the lack of Beorn’s presence, wondering if he would return tonight or tomorrow. He must be out still, close to the mountains by now. In his true form, it didn’t take long for him to cover much ground by walking or running. You wondered what he was doing out there, lurking in the night. But nights like these were common in your household, so the thought passed almost as quickly as it had come.

Walking into the home, you noticed everyone had already had their fill of dinner provided by the animals, the smell of honey cakes and cream filling your nostrils as you made your way into the kitchen to feed yourself. You put away some of the honey you had harvested today, crouching down to grab some more food out of the cupboards. Some of your dog friends wandered into the kitchen, sniffing you out as they smiled. “Oh, you’re back!” They called.

“Yes, and hungry too,” another remarked. 

You chuckled, sitting on the floor as you ate your fill. “And what have you all done today?”

“We’ve been waiting on the guests,” they said. “Just as Beorn said.”

“They speak of the strangest places!” Another said. “Full of caves and gems!”

“Have you enjoyed their stories?” You asked, munching on your meal.

“Of course,” they said. “Though their songs make me drowsy.”

“Songs? What songs?” You raised a brow, tilting your head a little. But your friends wouldn’t have the chance to answer, for soon a strange humming sound filled the air. This sound caught all of your attention, for soon you rose to creep over into the main hall where everyone sat, the taste of honey on your tongue as the hums of dwarves morphed into song.

The wind was on the withered heath, but in the forest stirred no leaf: there shadows lay by night and day, and dark things silent crept beneath.

The wind came down from mountains cold, and like a tide it roared and rolled; the branches groaned, the forest moaned, and leaves were laid upon the mould.

The wind went on from West to East; all movement in the forest ceased, but shrill and harsh across the marsh its whistling voices were released.

You found yourself entranced by their deep voices as they seemed to boom and echo in the great wooden halls. The fire flickered below the mantle, casting an eerie glow around the room as the shadows of the dwarves danced around you. Thorin and Bofur and Dwalin’s voices were especially recognizable as they stood out the most, their deep and velvety timbres reigning over the voices and hums of the others as the fire crackled in its place. For a moment, you felt as though you could feel the wind they spoke of, their song coming to life in your mind as you imagined the pictures they described. It must have been the same for them as well, for none of them noticed you as you came into the room, too lost in the memory of their melody as they sang.

The grasses hissed, their tassels bent, the reeds were rattling—on it went o’er shaken pool under heavens cool where racing clouds were torn and rent.

It passed the lonely Mountain bare and swept above the dragon’s lair: there black and dark lay boulders stark and flying smoke was in the air.

It left the world and took its flight over the wide seas of the night. The moon set sail upon the gale, and stars were fanned to leaping light.

As the song came to a close, you couldn’t help but feel so deeply sorrowful, as if a part of you too had lost something just as they had. The feeling of the winds around you died down, if they were ever there to begin with, and a smoky aroma filled the air as more embers burned brightly and wildly in the fireplace. A single tear ran down your cheek, but you were quick to wipe it away, not wanting to cause a scene. You now had a whole new view of these guests in your home, guests who didn’t have a home of their own.

After dwelling in the moment for a little while longer, Gandalf stood up, bidding that all the dwarves and the lone hobbit should get some rest for the night. He warned them once again to not wander outside during the night, just as Beorn had warned them before. You noticed at the other end of the hall, some of Beorn’s animals were returning from setting up beds for the guests, and you were suddenly reminded that you had left the food out in the kitchen. Now finally brought out of your reverie, you returned to your meal. But you were no longer hungry after hearing such a sad tale and song, and so you found yourself putting the food away, leaving the scraps out for your sheep friends as some of them passed by, heading to the pastures.

By the time you returned to the great hall, many of the dwarves were busy getting comfortable in their beds, save for Kíli, who sat on a bench in front of the fireplace as he watched the sparks dance among the wood and smoke. He looked so tiny in comparison to the bench, it made you smile as you joined him. 

His eyes lit up as he saw you sit down, a smile gracing his features. “You’re here,” he said.

“Am I not supposed to be here?” You questioned. “I live here, you know.”

“Of course,” he laughed. “But I haven’t seen you since this morning.”

“I was busy,” you explained. “I just finished eating in the kitchen.”

“Oh, I see,” he said. “So you heard us?”

You nodded, looking into the fire for a moment, watching the flames dance. “I did. It’s amazing, the way you tell stories. Beorn doesn’t sing, he doesn’t care for it.”

“For us, well, we do it often when longing in the night,” he said. A wistful expression decorated his face as he also turned to look into the flames. Though a smile lingered on his face, it was once again harder to read.

“And what do you long for, Kíli?” You asked, your eyes taking in his features as that weird and warm feeling returned. You liked being close to him. He felt safe. He drew in a breath, seeming to be overwhelmed by the question as he searched his mind for an answer.

“Home,” he spoke. “I long to help my kin reclaim their home. I long for my mother to return to her home. And for myself, I long to find my own meaning of the word.”

“That’s very admirable,” you said. “Your mother, is she far from you?”

“Aye,” he said. “It was tough, having to leave her and join this company. She almost didn’t let me or my brother go. She thinks I’m too reckless.”

You chuckle. “And are you?”

“Nah,” he smiled, teasingly pushing your shoulder with his own, and the contact brought that warm feeling to your face. “And what of you? What do you long for, Y/N?”

You drew a breath, trying not to dwell on how you loved the way he said your name. It was safe to say he was already your favorite guest in your home. “It may sound silly, but ever since you all spoke of gems, I’ve longed to see one. I wonder if they look like stars.”

“Some do,” he said, and your eyes lit up. All your attention was on him. Nothing else existed in this moment, save for the moon and the fire kindling below the mantle. “Some even glow like the moon. But my favorites are the ones as deep as the sky. Oh, I wish I could show you one.”

“A shame, truly.” You sighed.

“But perhaps,” he said, taking your hand in his, and you felt yourself flush at the contact. “Perhaps we can look at the stars and pretend they are gems. And once my kin have reclaimed the mountain and our treasure, I’ll return and bring you jewels as bright as fire and as deep as water.”

“That sounds lovely,” you smiled, warmth spreading to your cheeks. “You would do that?”

“If it means seeing you again, then I wouldn’t think twice,” he said. You lost your breath for a moment, finding yourself awestruck. 

“But it’s so late in the night for watching stars. Shouldn’t you rest?” You lightly squeezed his hand.

“I can lie awake a moment longer, if it’s with you.” He spoke so earnestly and so easily, as if the words had always existed in his mind, and you suddenly felt so many confusing feelings all at once. You had only just met this man, but already could see that you would miss him dearly when it would come time for him to leave. That warm and fuzzy feeling was growing quite strong the more he spoke.

You stood up, letting the fire die on its own as you took his hand in yours, guiding him up. You trusted him enough for this. “Come, let me show you my favorite place.”

Leading him behind you, you brought him to yours and Beorn’s shared room, which glowed with the pale moonlight that filtered in from another skylight as the light shown on your bed. You sat yourself down on it, inviting him to join you as you pointed up at the moon that showed through the roof. “It always looks the most beautiful here, when I come to sleep. I dream of it often.”

He sat next to you, leaning awfully close as he met where you pointed up at the sky. But you didn’t mind. “I can see why this is your favorite place. The view is gorgeous.”

“Isn’t it? It’s even more beautiful during a sunset,” you whispered, excited to have shared this space with a stranger. “All the colors of the sky can be seen, bright oranges and pinks and sometimes even purple.”

Kíli’s eyes beamed as they took in your beauty, a warm smile growing on his face. You wouldn’t be aware, but he hadn’t been speaking of the moon just then, as his gaze lay transfixed on you.

“Well, I’m here to see the stars. So, show me your favorite rabbits,” he said, and you laughed. 

“I told you, I don’t think of them as rabbits,” you corrected, and soon found yourself pointing out various constellations you had come up with yourself. You pointed out each of your favorite stars in the seasonal sky as the moon waned on, which soon prompted Kíli to speak of the constellations of his own people. You listened eagerly, the difference in your lives leaving you to look at him in awe. You two came from worlds apart, and yet here you both were. It was a comforting thought, and soon you found yourself falling asleep to the sound of his soft voice as the both of you lay on your bed looking at the moon.

The next day, you awoke late in the day and alone in your bed, the sound of haughty laughter and cheers in the great hall stirring you awake. Only one person could make such a deep laugh; Beorn must finally be home. A part of you felt upset when you awoke to find Kíli gone, wondering if it had all been a dream, but you were much too excited to see Beorn again that you pushed those thoughts away.

You walked into the great hall to see a wonderful sight of laughter and joy and stories being told as Beorn told the others where he had been over honey and bread and cream. Even your animal friends were all listening, or at least those that could fit in the house. He sat tall and proud at the head of his wooden table as he recounted to the dwarves where he had been for the past two days. You were quick to join them at the table, seating yourself at the end next to Nori as you silently fed yourself on the food placed in front of everyone.

Soon, everyone began enthralled in conversation, with Gandalf and Thorin and Beorn quietly talking amongst themselves of what the rest of their journey would entail. You couldn’t hear much, save for the bits and pieces of Beorn saying he would offer some of his ponies and food to them on their journey, at least until they would make it to Mirkwood. And suddenly you found yourself dwelling in sadness as you realized that everyone, Kíli included, would be leaving soon. It felt like an ache in your chest, though you knew not what it meant. All you knew was that you weren’t ready to see him go just yet.

Silently excusing yourself, you left the great hall and headed through the back door to the stables, needing some fresh air for yourself as you mulled over your feelings and thoughts. None of your horse friends were in the stables, as they were all much too busy grazing in the pastures surrounding your home. And so, seated in the hay in the shade, you pondered to yourself.

You barely knew Kíli, and yet you knew his absence would leave you hurt. Every time he looked at you, you found yourself growing warm and fuzzy and flustered. You had no idea what it meant, but you felt as though being without his smile would be like being without the sun: forever overcast and cloudy. 

But soon, you found yourself no longer alone as the harrowing height of Beorn joined you in the stables, as he came in scratching his beard when he found you upon the hay. “The horses, where have they gone?” He asked.

“Out for a run,” you answered, your voice soft against the wind as the cool breeze passed through the wood of the stable, whispering in the blades of grass between you two.

“And why do you take their place?” He said, his voice deep and coated in honey and cream. 

“I came to breathe,” you said, running a hand through your hair. “But the more I think about it, the less I can feel the air in my lungs.”

“Do you speak of the dwarf?” He asked, and suddenly your eyes widened. How did he know? But he was quick to answer your unspoken question, for he knew you well and could read the question from your face. “I saw him in your bed this morning when I returned.”

“You’re not upset?” You asked, genuinely curious of what he thought of your and Kíli’s relationship.

“I win nothing by pretending to care,” he said. “Besides, he is not my business. He is yours.” A breath of understanding left your lips as he spoke, some of the tension leaving your body. With a smooth movement, he joined you in the hay, his huge body making you feel small as you joined the shadows and the shade of the stables. And yet, you knew you were safe. “Tell me. What worries you?”

You drew a breath which left your lips as a sigh, all of your troubled emotions returning to the front of your mind as you tried to figure out how you would word your worries to Beorn. You knew you had to tell him, there was no point in hiding it. “I do not wish for him to go.” You said. 

“But you know he cannot stay,” Beorn warned. “It’s not in his will.”

“I know,” you nodded. “And I know that I cannot join him.” You hesitated, thinking before you continued. “And yet, I worry that even the stars won’t shine the same if he is not with me to enjoy their beauty.”

“Does he know this?” Beorn asked.

“No,” you answered. “I haven’t had the heart to tell him, though in truth I only just recently realized such things.”

“You must tell him,” Beorn said.

“But how can I be sure that he feels the same?” You frowned.

“He shared your bed, Y/N. He shared your stars,” he said. “I’m sure he too shares your heart.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, mulling it over for yourself. There was a chance you would never see him again, so of course you knew you had to tell him. You looked up at Beorn, giving him a grateful nod. “Thank you, Beorn.”

“Thank me when he is gone, after you have told him.” He said, a gruff voice through the soft wind.

It was night now, and everyone was fast asleep. Once again, you found yourself restless and yearning for the guidance of the moon as she shimmered through the skylight. Finding the dwarves busy with their journey’s preparations for the remainder of the day, you hadn’t had the chance to get a hold of Kíli’s attention much at all. But you knew it was important, and so you decided against interrupting, hoping he’d stay up to meet you like he had for the past few nights.

Your heart skipped a beat when he did, glad you had placed your bets on him as he quietly made his way over to you, a smile on his face when you looked up at him. You patted the moonlit floor next to you, inviting him into your space as you couldn’t help but return his smile. The warm and fuzzy feeling returned, but you worried about whether it would last after tonight’s intended conversation. 

“I’m so glad you’re awake,” he said. “You’ve been on my mind all day.”

“I have?” You asked, slightly surprised when he nodded his head.

“Yes,” he said. “And for that, I’m glad the moon has kept you here.”

You smiled, taking his hand into yours. “Kíli, I…” you couldn’t find yourself to say it out loud, feeling anxious. You drew a breath, pushing onward. “I’ll miss you.” There was no point in saying you wished he could stay or anything of the sort; you knew he had to do this, you knew he had to leave you, and you knew he had to take this journey. It was in his blood, it was who he was. But oh, you wished you could have more time. Just a few minutes more to learn more of who he was, and what he could be to you. You could already feel the ache burning in your chest.

His smile fell slightly, now tinged with sadness of his own as he nodded. “We leave early tomorrow afternoon,” he said. “Thorin is eager to get back on the road.”

“And yourself?” You asked, baiting your breath.

“My spirit is with him,” he explained. “But I’m afraid my heart lies in other places.”

“Such as where?” You asked.

“In the stars,” he answered, looking to the sky before returning your gaze. “In the moonlight.”

“The moonlight?” You said.

“My heart lies with you, amrâlimê,” he said, his voice soft as he spoke his native tongue.

“What does that mean?” You asked, drawing a breath.

“It means that when I travel far from this place and look up into the night sky, rabbits will follow me,” he answered, inching closer. “For each time I gaze at the stars and see the moon full of light, I shall think of you, if you permit it.”

You exhaled, tears coming to your eyes as the meaning of his words sunk in. So he did feel the same! Words escaped you, but you eagerly nodded, your hand rising to cup his face as you eagerly leaned in to place a chaste kiss upon his lips. He returned with one of his own, learning in and letting your foreheads rest against each other. You couldn’t help the tears that fell, both mingled with the emotions of relief and joy and sorrow and worry. “Yes, I permit it.”

“I’m glad,” he smiled. “Though even if you had said no, my mind would be filled with thoughts of you still.”

You laughed at this, smiling through your tears as you looked into his deep brown eyes. “I wish I could go with you,” you breathed.

He shook his head. “Soon, I promise. When the gates of my fathers are reopened for all, I promise I will return to take you with me. I’ll show you everything, from the caverns to the gems to the great feasts of my kin.”

“I would want nothing more,” you said. And soon a silence fell over you two as you both realized this was the last night you would have to spend together for a considerable time. You would both be far from one another, and it was a painful thought. And though you were already crying, you didn’t want this last moment together to be one of sadness. “We shall have the stars, then. The stars shall be our gems until we can reunite.”

“I promise I will return,” he said solemnly. “And when I do, I want to know everything about you. Even the parts hidden away from anyone.”

“It would be hard to hide them from someone as nosy as you,” you joked, and his laugh brought a smile to your face. And for a while you two sat together like this, looking upon the stars with a newfound fondness.

The next day, the final day, happened all too quickly. By the time you awoke, breakfast was quickly eaten and provisions were eagerly packed away on the ponies Beorn had promised to offer to the company of Thorin Oakenshield. With sad eyes, you watched as your newfound lover rode away from your home, heading to the treacherous Mirkwood forest as he disappeared on the horizon of the Wilderlands. It was one of the rare days where none of your friends spoke to you for the remainder of the sun’s light, warned by Beorn to give you space.

The first month without him was much sadder than you thought it would be, but you soon found strength at night whenever you would gaze upon the stars. The second month was almost completely back to normal for you, and by the third month you were already back on your feet and quite well for yourself.

Six months came and no word followed. You had already been worried by now, and even Beorn had no answers for you when it came to why Kíli had not yet returned. You tried your best to find strength in the moonlight, but it was all you had as of late, and your faith was wearing thin.

A total of eight months later, the wizard returned, but it was no merry visit. He told you of the reclaiming of Erebor, the battle of the five great armies, and soon you realized all too quickly why Kíli hadn’t returned. That was the last time you saw the wizard, for by the time he ever visited again, you had left Beorn and your friends to wander into the world on your own, hoping by some miracle that you could journey far enough from the heartache and ruin that you now lived by.

For Kíli could not return to you, nor would he ever again.

i need more kíli and fíli writers on here, bro. i’m rereading the same ten on here (don’t get me wrong, they’re amazing) and it’s so sad. we need more!

if you write for kíli or fíli, don’t hesitate to link your wares in the replies! i’d love to find and read more amazing stories.

in honor of THAUC starting soon again, here is my piece from last year!

"ashes to ashes"

author's note: Wow! This is so crazy, y'all. It was an absolute crazy ride collaborating for this year's THAUC event, and I can't believe @spinehandbag and I actually got it done! Between university and the craziness of both of our lives, we really created an awesome story that I can't believe we get to share with you all. I'll be sure to link spine's artwork for this piece the moment they post it on Tumblr :)

Pairing: Fíli / Gender-Neutral Reader

Word Count: 21,440

summary: When Y/N is put into grave danger after their father's foolish deeds, Gandalf brings them to Erebor to seek refuge. With their whole life turned upside down, they have to learn to navigate a new way of living while a price is placed on their head.

content warnings: violence, blood, alcohol, injuries, angst, it's just a lot of sad shit

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

“Ashes to ashes; dust to dust. All we have is each other’s trust.”

You had known this creed since you were a babe; your mother was the first person to teach it to you, explaining the importance of your family and heritage. It sounded like a nursery rhyme to you: a fun little tune to hum to yourself. But you knew better now.

Thirty years. That’s how long your father had been serving the Steward of Gondor as an advisor. In all that time, he had helped so many people. He had secured a good life for your mother and yourself, high among the nobles of Gondor. He had provided so much for you two, even going so far as to enroll you alongside the highest scholars money could buy. It was from these tutors that you learned to harness your passion for painting and art.

Five years. That’s how long he had been driving your family into debt, unbeknownst to you. But it didn’t take you long to figure out that something was amiss, even if you weren’t sure what it was; your mother’s hushed whispers when she would fight with your father were more than enough fuel to the crackling fire of your family’s ails. It seemed your father’s position was the only thing that kept your family afloat, but that did little to calm the nerves of your parents these days. Your home life had become rather tense, prompting you to wander the city more often than you were with your parents.

Three days. That’s how long you had been traveling for, the rain pelting down on you and your travel companion as you made your way north of Gondor. Your partner, an old fellow dressed in gray with a strangely shaped hat, became known to you as Gandalf. You had only been acquainted with him for a few days, beginning when he showed up on your family’s doorstep, a melancholy presence about him. You hadn’t understood the situation back then; you were still trying to wrap your head around it now.

It had been a quiet night in your home when he arrived, bringing a sharp knock to your door that your father answered to. As soon as your father saw him, something shifted in the air. You had never seen your father so vulnerable before; even in his mistakes, he was too proud to admit defeat. Gandalf had invited himself into the parlor, speaking quietly to your mother and father while the fire in the hearth crackled on. Peering through the door, you had tried to eavesdrop, but your mother’s soft sobs were enough to let you know the severity of your circumstances.

Your father, in his efforts to right his wrongs, was now in debt to several people he had loaned from, all of which came from notoriously criminal backgrounds. Even in his effort to make things right, all he had made were enemies. As collateral now, it had come to Gandalf’s attention that the man your father was the most indebted to had placed a bounty on your head as incentive. Your life now hung in the balance because of your father’s selfish thinking. It was either your head or your father’s debt.

You hated your father for bringing this upon your family. You hated that you now had to travel with this old and beaten-down wizard to somewhere unknown simply for the sake of your safety. And worst of all, you hated that when it came time to say your goodbyes, your mother and father hadn’t even given you the courtesy of explaining just how fucked up life would be for you starting now. Your mother was too grieved, and your father was too proud.

“Ashes to ashes; dust to dust. All we have is each other’s trust.”

None of that rang true in your heart anymore; your family’s creed meant nothing to you. You couldn’t trust the people who had raised you anymore and you barely even knew this gray man who led your journey. But for now, even despite your wishes, Gandalf was all you had.

He was the only one who had given you the common kindness to explain what was going on. According to him, the man who had placed a bounty on you operated out of Gondor, meaning that your home was no longer a safe space. Without explaining why, Gandalf told you that if your assassination were to prove successful, it would mean an all-out war within Gondor. You had never thought your life would hold so much weight; you were a noble, but you kept to yourself when it came to society. Though you didn’t appreciate the morbid thought, surely your death would mean very little to the infrastructure of such a mighty city as Minas Tirith?

But Gandalf thought otherwise and strongly enough to lead you farther north than you had ever been: past the Brown Lands and trailing along the outskirts of Mirkwood, now following the path of the River Running. Many times in your journey, you asked him where you were headed, the toil of the path wearing you down.

“To Erebor, my dear Y/N,” he had spoken. “There’s a king there who owes me quite the favor.”

Two and a half months had passed by and at last, you were in Erebor. Deep and dark stone walls welcomed you inside as Gandalf brought you into the dwarven kingdom, but you felt no emotion other than dread. You knew very well that this would have to become your new home; Gandalf had informed you many times that this was the safest place you could hide. As long as you resided here, none of your father’s enemies could find you. But even within the brilliant glittering caverns of Erebor, you felt lonely. You couldn’t call this foreign place your home, but you knew Gondor would never be fit to have you again.

Gandalf, however, could never have been more welcomed to your eyes. Almost every person here knew his name and face, many of whom attempted to stop and chat with him. How long was he staying? Had he met with Thorin yet? When would he be leaving? Would they see another grand show of fireworks?

That last question was asked the most, which made it the most confusing to you. In your eyes, he was simply a graying man with too much wisdom (but not enough to share) and a love for smoking his pipeweed. 

Gandalf didn’t seem to have much time for these questions though, often explaining that he had matters with the king to discuss. Matters that involved you, you presumed. And that explanation was all it took for dwarrows to stop their conversations and let you through. It was a small but comforting sentiment you appreciated.

At last, they found themselves in the council room. A long table, surrounded by chairs, ran down the middle. At the head of the table was a seat a little more grand with the crown of Durin carved into the top. The room expertly blended the natural beauty of the rock with the bold geometric patterns of dwarven architecture. But while this was all breathtaking, it only heightened your anxieties, unsure of what would happen once the king arrived. 

You had heard of this king, Thorin Oakenshield. Armed with his father’s secret key, he and his men had driven Smaug out of Erebor and reclaimed the kingdom for their brethren five years ago. Everyone in Middle-Earth knew of this tale. It was said to have been an impossible task. But the dwarves of Erebor were strong in might and in will; that much you understood. 

“What’s going to happen to me now?” You asked in the silence of the hall, interrupting Gandalf as he smoked his pipe. He seemed to be at much more ease than he had been on the journey. 

“I can persuade Thorin to let you reside here,” he puffed. “No man from Gondor would think to step foot in these halls so soon after a dragon’s demise. It will buy you time for now.”

“How long am I to stay here?” Your voice seemed to echo in the empty room.

Gandalf frowned, setting his pipe down. “That I am unsure of.”

You kept your gaze fixed on the table, holding back quiet tears. If you spoke again, you were sure you’d start crying. You didn’t want to be seen crying in front of the king or anyone else for that matter. This was your new reality now. You would have to live amongst the dwarven warriors and craftsmen of Erebor.

Gandalf leaned in, sensing your distress. “Keep a strong will, Y/N. These people will help, I’m sure.”

The oak doors of the conference hall creaked open and your attention was soon fixated on the four figures that made their way inside, seating themselves at the table. 

Leading the way was Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain. He took his place in the ornate chair at the head of the table, facing Gandalf who sat across from him. His dark hair held streaks of silver that hinted at his age and strength, and the multitude of furs decorating his body simply showed off his regal status. He was an intimidating presence.

Behind him entered an older dwarf, whose white hair grew so long it seemed to touch the floor. He kept himself close to Thorin, standing behind his chair.

And lastly entered two younger dwarves, though their age seemed to defy the battle-worn glint in their eyes. Surely these two were the princes Gandalf had mentioned on your journey.

“Gandalf, you old sod!” The white-haired dwarf smiled. “How long has it been now?”

“Gandalf!” The brown-haired prince grinned. “We thought we’d never see you again!”

“Too long, Balin. And Kíli, you look well.” The wizard replied, earning a gruff hum from Thorin.

“Too long, indeed.” He spoke, his voice deep and rich as it echoed in the room. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, unsure of how to feel with such an authoritative aura emanating from the king. “Why have you come now?”

It seemed the conversation was moving straight to business. 

Gandalf took one last puff from his pipe before he put out the embers within. “I need your help.”

Thorin raised a brow, curious. “What could the Gray Wizard need that I could possibly give him?”

“Refuge, Thorin.” Gandalf said. “That is what I seek.”

“Who’s after you?” Balin asked, concern lacing his brow.

Gandalf shook his head. “Not for me, I’m afraid.” He turned to you, now introducing you to the group.

“This is Y/N. They’ve been my companion for a short time now as I have come in the hopes you will provide them refuge.”

“Refuge?” The blond-haired prince now spoke up. “From who?”

“Nobody of concern to you, I can assure you,” Gandalf said, but Thorin seemed displeased.

“You ask me to provide protection for someone we don’t know,” he said. “And you can’t give us the courtesy of knowing who their enemy is?”

“He’s a very powerful man who wouldn’t think to step foot on your mountain, Thorin Oakenshield. He’s of no danger to you.” Gandalf frowned, getting upset with the King’s stubborn nature. 

This meeting was becoming more uncomfortable by the moment; you wished you could melt into your seat and disappear. Hadn’t Gandalf said the king owed him a favor? Why were you being met with such hostility? Why wouldn't Gandalf tell the King who was after you? These were the questions flooding your mind as you kept quiet to save your own skin.

“Five years, Gandalf.” The king began. “That’s how long our doors have been open to my people and the Men of Dale. In that time, we’ve been rebuilding everything that the dragon took from us. Our families have only just begun to heal. And amongst all this, you now ask me to harbor a foreign fugitive within our walls–”

“They are no fugitive!” Gandalf stood up abruptly, causing you to jump in your seat as suddenly it felt as though all of the lights went out, creating a harrowing shadow over the gray wizard. And just as quickly as the darkness had come, it left.

Gandalf drew a breath. “They’ve done nothing wrong. They’re a friend.” 

“Thorin,” Balin whispered. “It would be wise to help the fellow out. Think of all Gandalf has done for us.”

Thorin Oakenshield sat silently, staring down Gandalf with an unreadable expression. The princes looked to the king, biting their own tongues as the silence hung in the air. No matter what would happen, they would stand with their uncle. Gandalf was a friend, but the king was right; Erebor had bigger priorities right now.

Feeling quite small, you brought your gaze back to the marble cut table. Your life hung in the balance with this decision, and yet it felt as though it had already ended; the tension in the room tightened around your throat like a noose. What good would a hostile refuge be in the face of death?

Gandalf held his position, staring down Thorin intently. You knew nothing of their history, but already it seemed that they were quite similar in their stubborn nature. And after a pause that felt like a lifetime, the King finally spoke.

“Three months.” He nodded. “And then I want them gone.”

“Now, Thorin–” Gandalf interjected, but was shushed by the King’s raised hand.

“We will provide them refuge for three months. And in that time, a bodyguard will be assigned to them; I’ll have them taught how to fight and fend for themself.” He turned to you, his piercing gaze bringing you away from the marble. “You won’t get far in the wild without those skills.”

Gandalf cleared his throat. “And then what?”

“And then I want them gone.” Thorin spoke. “You helped me once, Gandalf, but I have a kingdom to protect now. A home to rebuild.I have little time to deal with the affairs of men. This is as much as I can offer as repayment. Do we have a deal?”

Gandalf frowned at this, seeming displeased in the terms and conditions of protecting your life. Three months was such a short span of time for the wizard; he was unsure if it would even be enough time to provide you ample protection. You almost hoped he would rescind the offer, not feeling very welcomed by the dwarrow’s hostility.

“It is agreed,” Gandalf nodded. And so it was set. You would spend the next three months hiding in Erebor from an enemy you didn’t even have a name to associate with. An enemy whose secrecy seemed protected by Gandalf. 

Thorin stood with the two princes and Balin, all who pushed their seats back in. “Y/N, I shall leave Fíli here to show you to your quarters. Do not hesitate to ask him any questions you may have. Gandalf, I pray you will find ample hospitality for the duration of your stay.”

And then they were gone, leaving you alone with Gandalf once more. Fíli, who you now recognized as the blonde-haired prince, stood silently outside of the room.

And just as they all left, you broke down into tears. Your voice cracked with sobs as your new reality finally began to set in for you. Gandalf walked over to you, lending a comforting hand on your shoulder as you let it all out. All the stress and anxiety and panic from the last two and half months culminated inside you, and it seemed this decision the King had made was the moment that finally broke you. 

“I can never go home, can I?” You cried, your voice cracking. 

“No, I’m afraid not.” Gandalf shook his head, his hand rubbing your shoulder in an effort to console you. “Not for now, at least.”

You sobbed, your hands wiping away tears which were quickly being refreshed. “Then when?”

Gandalf paused for a moment, thinking. “I shall ride for Gondor at first light. I can assure you, dear Y/N, that I won’t rest until I help your father to find these men. But until that happens,” he crouched down to meet you at eye level. “You must accept that this is your new life now. And it won’t be easy.”

“I think I need to be alone,” you spoke softly, your head in your hands. You felt Gandalf’s hand leave your shoulder, hearing the door shut shortly after. Tears continued to fall from your eyes, staining your clothes and wetting your skin in your despair. For the first time in your entire journey, you let everything out.

You hated all of this. You hated Thorin’s stubborn and hostile speaking. You hated that Gandalf refused to tell you the full picture. And most of all, you hated that you felt like you had to build yourself back up from the ground up. It was as if in all of this mess, you had lost a sense of who you were. And you hated that, too.

“Ashes to ashes; dust to dust. In times of change, one must adjust.”

It felt silly having a parody of your family creed bounce around in your mind, but it seemed to be the only calming thought that aided in grounding you back to your senses. A makeshift phrase to fit your situation. Minutes passed by as you finally finished your weeping and tried to wipe away the evidence on your face, only to be interrupted by a soft knocking on the oak doors.

“Just a moment.” Your voice came out a little strained, answering the knocks as if you lived here. You scoffed at the irony.

Pulling yourself together, you sighed at the state of your tear-stained clothes and puffy eyes. If the prince hadn’t known you were crying, it would surely be obvious now. But you were beyond caring right now, too focused on staying calm. You opened the oak doors, shuffling back into the main hall where the prince stood.

“Is everything alright?” He sounded concerned. You sighed.

“As fine as I can be, for now,” you spoke. He nodded in understanding, quickly moving the conversation along.

“I’ll show you your quarters, if you’re willing.” His voice was like crushed velvet and pleasing to the ears. He kept it soft, which was a nice change of pace from Thorin and Gandalf’s hostile tones.

“Please, lead the way,” you gestured ahead of yourself, obediently following behind him as he led you through the twists and turns of the city. There wasn’t much else you could do, given your current state.

Minutes later, you were sitting in your new lodgings for the next three months. It was similar in design to the halls and rooms you had already seen, full of deep golden accents and dwarven motifs carved into the walls. You were silently thankful that it was furnished, taking note of the solid oak nightstand that stood next to your canopy bed, the posts of which were carved down from the ceiling. Candles lit the room well for your eyes, and if you weren’t in such a dreaded state, you would’ve commented on the room’s majesty. 

“Is it to your liking?” The blonde prince asked, and you turned around to meet his gaze again. 

“Yes, thank you,” you said. 

“I can bring some more linens and blankets by later tonight,” he gestured to the bed, which only had a single sheet covering it. “We’re not too used to holding guests here, not with the construction going on.” He spoke with a kind but matter-of-fact tone. 

“That would be nice,” you nodded, your mind not fully focused on the conversation. 

“My uncle will have your guard issued to you within the night,” he continued. “You can refer any of your questions to them, unless you have any you’d like to ask now?”

You looked down at your clothes, noting how sullied they were from your long journey. You had only packed one extra set and those too were soiled. “I don’t suppose it would be too much to ask for some new clothes?”

The prince nodded. “I’ll be sure to put an order in when I retrieve your linens. Is that all?”

You wanted to inquire about bathing as well, not caring for the way that your sweat and dirt clung to your skin. But you held your tongue, opting to ask someone in the morning. For now, the small wash basin in your room would help.

You shook your head. “I suppose so. Thank you…?”

You realized you didn’t know his name. You knew the King had mentioned it earlier, but it seemed that in your distress you couldn’t remember. Luckily, he seemed to understand you. 

“Fíli,” he bowed. “At your service.”

“Fíli, yes,” you mused. “Thank you, Fíli.”

He gave a small smile at your thanks. “I’ll be off, then.” 

You nodded in acknowledgment, watching as he left your doorway and disappeared down the vast hallway. A breath you didn’t know you were holding escaped your lips, and you looked back at your room to accustom yourself to your new surroundings. 

On the other end of your room was a solid oak chest for storage, seated next to a tall candelabra that stood tall like a coat hanger. In the corner was a small washing basin to rinse your face or cleanse your hands. Lastly, the floor was covered in furs that protected your feet from the cold stone floors. You wondered what a royal bedroom looked like in this city; you’d like to compare them out of curiosity. 

Now forced to face the silence as you awaited your guard to greet you (or Fíli to return with more blankets), you collapsed onto your new bed, the ache in your body calling to you after the day’s long events. It had been so long since you had slept in a proper bed; there had been very few inns along the length of your journey with Gandalf. 

Your mind wandered to thoughts about the gray wizard. Who was he, really? You had never heard of Gandalf the Gray, but his presence was certainly known to your father. You could still remember the pale look in his eyes when he opened the doors to that strange man over two months ago; you had never seen your father so spooked in all your years. 

And then there was the matter of the bounty on your head. Who was the man responsible? And why had he chosen you rather than your father for such a cruel fate? You reckoned it was to act as incentive, urging your father to pay his debt faster. There was no use in asking Gandalf for the truth; you doubted he would be willing to share after putting up a wall to Thorin’s questions. But even these small speculations didn’t calm your nerves. 

The sound of running footsteps snapped you out of your reverie as you pushed yourself out of your bed to peer out of your still-open doorway. To your surprise, the brown-haired prince from before seemed to be bolting after a much-older dwarf who looked supremely unhappy.

The new dwarf was taller (though that wasn’t saying much) and stockier, his muscles littered with scars and tattoos that showed off his strength and his background. His tattooed head had been recently shaved, and his beard had been braided into his sideburns to make way for what seemed like a permanent scowl on his face.

You quickly disappeared from your doorway, out of sight as you listened in on their conversation.

“Dwalin, wait!” The young prince called after him, desperation laced in his tone. “You know that I can’t possibly do it!”

“I shan’t be summoned for something asinine like babysitting, Kíli.” The older dwarf, Dwalin, grunted. “Don’t bother with your uncle, I’ll tell him myself.”

“Well then who’s supposed to keep watch? It’s only for three months!” Kíli laughed as he spoke but it didn’t seem out of humor.

“Aye, and three months too long, for my tastes,” Dwalin huffed, his footsteps now passing by your door. “Have your brother do it, or Ori. The lad’s old enough for something like this now.”

“Ori?” Kíli scoffed in disbelief. “He might have fought a dragon, but he’s no bodyguard.” His pace quickened, passing your door shortly after. “Why do you think Thorin chose you?”

“I don’t care to know, I’m telling him my mind.” Dwalin held firm in his tone. “If you can’t do it, then find someone else and make it their problem. We’ve got too much to do these days and I won’t waste it on some stupid task like this.”

Dwalin continued on but you could hear Kíli stop in his tracks as he let out a frustrated groan. Your stomach turned at the idea of having someone like Dwalin be your bodyguard, and silently thanked the gods that he refused you. Anyone with an attitude like that wouldn’t make you feel very safe, that’s for sure.

You began slowly closing your door, not wanting to eavesdrop any longer when you heard a new set of footsteps that were coming from where Kíli and Dwalin had just been. You halted in your movement, not wanting the newcomer to notice your door shutting. You hid behind your door now, listening again, mentally scolding yourself for this childish behavior. 

Kíli gasped. “Oh, you won’t believe how good you are with timing, brother!” His footsteps passed by your door once again, heading towards the other person, who you now knew was Fíli. You figured he had returned to bring you the blankets. 

“So I’ve been told,” he chuckled. “What are you getting at?” His footsteps halted and you assumed they were standing in the middle of the hall now. 

“Dwalin won’t do it.” Kíli said. 

“And what exactly won’t he do?” Fíli asked for clarification. 

“Thorin assigned him to be the bodyguard for the noble from earlier; he flat out refused.” Kíli huffed, annoyed. 

Fíli paused, thinking. “Does Uncle know about this?”

“He will soon at the rate Dwalin was stomping away. He tried to push it off onto me!” Kíli spoke the last part in a hushed whisper, as if he had taken personal offense.

“And I’m assuming you declined?” 

“I haven’t got the time, you know me.” Kíli scoffed. “Dwalin said to have you or Ori be put to the task.”

“Ori?” Fíli laughed. “The lad’s too busy restoring our records. Besides, he’s better armed with a pen than a sword—“

“Exactly what I said, more or less. You’d be a fine candidate, though.” You could hear the cheeky tone in the younger prince’s voice as he tried to push the task onto his brother’s plate.

“You jest, brother.” Fíli was not amused.

“I do not!”

Fíli sighed for a moment, his voice quiet. “Will Dwalin really deny his duty?”

A silence hung between them, as if they both had silently answered the question. A part of you hoped Fíli would agree to being your bodyguard. Though you knew none of them, he seemed like the most well fit. Dwalin was much too angry. Kíli seemed eager to not take up the task, either.

“You owe me for this,” Fíli huffed. 

“So you’ll do it?” Kíli seemed quite relieved at the decision. 

“I haven’t got the time to deal with an angry Dwalin right now and I have even less time for your squabbling, Kí. So fine. You can go tell Uncle.”

“What, and piss him off?” Kíli seemed devastated. 

“Consider it your payment for shuffling it onto me. Now go before I change my mind.” Fíli stood firm against his brother, and soon you heard footsteps fading away. 

A sigh rang through the hall and Fíli’s footsteps continued your direction, prompting you to quickly flee to your bed. The last thing you needed was for these dwarves to think you were spying on them after begging for refuge. 

Three soft knocks forced you to look inconspicuous as Fíli opened the cracked door. “Here are some more blankets.”

You cleared your throat quickly, trying to regain your composure. “Ah, thank you again.” You stood back up, walking over to him as you received the linens. “Oh, and the clothes?”

“I’ll be sure to fetch you some first thing in the morning, when the market opens back up.” He gave a short smile after bowing again. “I’ve been assigned to look after you starting today.”

“As my bodyguard?” You raised a brow, feigning innocence. 

“Watchman, trainer, bodyguard. That’s what I’m to provide, yes.” He nodded. 

“I see.” You looked awkwardly at the empty bed in your room. “You don’t have to share—“

“Oh, not at all,” he quickly answered, catching wind of your intent. “But my room won't be far, so don’t hesitate to call on me for anything. Well, mostly anything. I do appreciate my sleep here and there.”

You gave a weak laugh to his joke, still trying to ease your stress as you processed all of this information. “And where exactly is your room?”

He stepped out of the doorway, pointing down the hall. “The first right and then the second door on the left.”

You mused the directions under your breath. “First right—“

“You’ll have time to remember, don’t worry. I’ll show you tomorrow when we go to the tailor’s.” He peered back inside your room, checking everything. “Gandalf says you’ll be safe here, so there’s no need to rush.”

“Are you close with him?” You asked. 

“Close enough to trust him. He speaks in riddles but he’s helped my family greatly.” Another nod from the blonde, this one followed by a soft smile. “He means well, despite his temper.”

You nodded, not having any more to say. How late was it at this point? The ache in your body was ringing in your bones, lulling you to sleep as you tried to stay awake. 

“Is everything alright?” He asked, raising a brow. 

“It’s late,” was all you could say. He hummed in agreement. 

“I’ll leave you, then. I’ll be sure to wake you up first thing in the morning so we can fetch you some new clothes.”

You felt your head growing heavier and heavier with each nod, finding it harder to speak as sleep called to you. Before you realized it, you and Fíli had exchanged goodbyes and he had shut your door, retiring to his own room. 

This was your new life now.

Morning came all too quickly as you awoke to three knocks, just like yesterday. Their sound was louder than last nights, as any wake up call would be. You sprang up, bewildered and bleary-eyed. You always had trouble sleeping in new beds and this one was no exception; you had spent most of your night staring at the ceiling and contemplating your new circumstances.

“Y/N? Are you in there?” Fíli’s voice called through the wooden door and you stumbled out of bed to open it, a slight groan leaving your throat as your body cracked from soreness.

“Yes, sorry,” you apologized, opening the door. A part of you was thankful you were still wearing last night’s clothes rather than sleeping naked. “Is it morning already?”

“It’s noon, actually. I figured I’d let you sleep in. I managed to pick up some tunics and trousers for you to try on and see if they fit. The trousers may run a little short on you,” he kept explaining, showing you the clothes he had brought.

Noon?! It was that late in the day already? Your mind was reeling with a headache from lack of sleep and you groaned, reaching a hand to your temple.

“Are they not to your liking?” Fíli raised a brow. “There’s no point in being picky, you know–”

“What? No, not at all,” you waved him off. “Sorry… I’ve never been made for mornings.”

“Or afternoons, it seems.” He frowned. “I’ll leave these here with you, then.”

You took the clothes from him with a nod, staring at the naturally dyed linens in your hands. “I don’t suppose I could bathe before I change into these, could I?”

He cleared his throat, shifting from foot to foot. He seemed either willing to leave or as if he were reaching the end of his patience with you. You didn’t like either option.

“I could show you around to the baths, if you’d like.”

“Baths? There’s multiple?” You raised a brow, confused.

“Well yes, they’re public. There has to be multiple for a city like this. It would wreak havoc if there was only one.” He looked at you as if you were the crazy one, and it wasn’t making the situation any less awkward.

“And they’re open right now?” You spoke slowly, trying to process this information.

“Of course they are, they never close. That would be even worse than having only one.” 

You didn’t have the energy to even inquire as to why that would be worse, not wanting your ignorance to be seen as stupidity. “Are they busy this time of day?”

Fíli looked away, thinking to himself before he answered. “If you’re looking for privacy, then you’re better off going in the wee hours when everyone’s asleep. I believe that should answer your question better?”

You nodded. “It does… Would you be willing to take me later?”

He sighed, pondering the idea. It was certainly a tall ask for a dwarf who had already told you he likes his beauty sleep. “Tonight. But learn the path so you can take yourself next time. Don’t need anyone getting any wrong ideas, least of all my brother.”

You smiled in relief at the thought of a bath. You could certainly tough up the dirt for a few more hours. “You have my thanks.”

“Anyways, it’s best we make use of the day for you. Uncle told me to show you around today so you don’t get lost.” He nodded, shifting again from foot to foot. He was eager to do more than just watch after some stranger, you could tell. A part of you felt bad he had gotten stuck with watching you, but this was what Thorin’s terms were. 

“Understood. I’ll get changed then. I’ll be out in a moment.” You shut the door on him, laying your new clothes out on your bed. Even if you couldn’t bathe right away, wearing clean clothes would certainly help boost your spirits. 

There was certainly one thing you appreciated about dwarven clothes, and that was the sheer size of them. You were certain that any of these tunics would fit a tad oversized, which was a nice break from your form-fitting clothes from back home. You slipped your alabaster-toned tunic on, the sleeves running a bit short on you as you adjusted the fabric. And the pants were no better; they stopped halfway down your calves. But you found the odd fit charming rather than upsetting, glad to simply be wearing something clean. 

You tucked your tunic in, tying your old belt around the waist to keep your pants from sagging or possibly falling, and for the first time in your journey, you actually felt comfortable. Indeed, now that you had spent a night in your new home, you were beginning to see things in a much cozier light, despite how scary the new surroundings could seem. 

You opened the door, stepping out into the hall with Fíli, now a little more ready for the day despite the ache in your body and the headache wearing on. 

“Lead the way.”

Hours had gone by and Fíli had dragged you nearly the entire length of the kingdom. At least, that’s what it felt like. The entire day seemed to go on with him showing you the forges or the market or the grocer, spewing information at you like some tour guide from hell. Granted, that wasn’t to say that Fíli was hellish, but rather you were finding it impossible to retain all off this information in one day.

Now you two were headed to the Library of Records, where all of Erebor’s historical texts resided. All the hallways seemed to blend in with one another, but Fíli didn’t seem too bothered by your aloofness. You were grateful he was being patient with you, or as patient as a dwarf on a mission could be. 

“You’ll have to start pulling your weight in some way here, otherwise you’ll starve,” he explained as you two turned a corner.

“As in?”

“You’ll need to get a job, surely.” 

You chewed the inside of your cheek, thinking. “I don’t have any skills that would be of use here. I’m not a blacksmith or a miner or even a farmer.”

“Then what did you do back home?” Fíli raised a brow, shocked.

His question seemed to shock you as well. Indeed, what did you do? Now that you actually thought about it, you never had to do anything; your father had provided everything for you. Other than wandering the streets to escape the tension in your home, you didn't do much in your youth besides reading and painting.

“I painted?” You said, but it came out as more of a question, as if you were asking if your answer was acceptable.

It seemed enough to surprise Fíli. “Portraits?”

“And landscapes. I especially liked painting flowers.” The thought brought a small smile to your face.

“Were you any good?” He asked.

“My mother thought so.” You muttered, a bittersweet feeling tugging at your heart now. You knew there was no longer a home for you in Gondor, but it didn’t stop you from missing parts of it.

“That’s good, then.” He nodded, leading you up a staircase.

“It is?” You asked.

“There’s plenty of us here that don’t have the money to pay for things, especially after so much of the King’s Vault went towards construction costs. The economy here has been a tad unorthodox since the days of the dragon, so many people trade instead.” He explained. You quickly caught on that he gestured with his hands often while speaking.

“Trade?”

“Like for example, this morning I traded a dagger I had made for the clothes you’re wearing.”

You looked down at your outfit, now seeing it in a new light. “And that was enough?”

He nodded. “People need things, especially in Erebor and Dale. The dragon took so much from us that we’ve learned to take what we can get. I reckon you could trade some of your paintings if you got back into practice.”

You hummed, rolling the idea over in your mind. “You really think so?”

“Oh, absolutely. Especially the elder dwarrowdams at the market, they can’t resist a new decoration for their homes.” He grinned at the thought. “We can get you some supplies later.”

You gave a soft smile in return. “I’d like that very much.”

The day was truly wearing you down now; between all the walking and your headache, you felt absolutely spent. You and Fíli had already visited the market twice, where he had traded more of his own wares to buy you some basic painting supplies. There hadn’t been very much to choose from, but even the small colors he had supplied you with were more than you could have asked for on your second day here. 

Now, thankfully, he had given you a break from walking after you subtly voiced your complaints, letting you two enjoy the quiet and solitude of one of Erebor’s many libraries. 

“This one has already been restored,” Fíli explained. “Nobody will bother you here.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, rubbing your temples as you tried to mitigate your pain. “Thank you, Fíli.”

He gave a silent nod before setting his things down at the scribing table you had sat at and meandering the shelves, reading the spines of tomes and scriptures that decorated the shelves. 

Guilt picked at your brain as you studied his moving figure. Eavesdropping on his conversation last night hadn’t given you any sort of solace with the fact that this wasn’t a position he had chosen. Then again, any bodyguard assigned to you wouldn’t have been because they chose it; it was the King’s orders. It was the deal provided to you and Gandalf by Thorin. But something about the situation still didn’t sit right in your mind. The last thing you wanted to be was a burden to another stranger.  

“Fíli,” you mused under your breath as you thought, but it hadn’t been quiet enough.

Fíli peered around a bookshelf. “Did you say something?”

Your mouth hung open for a second, searching for words. Perhaps this was as good a time as any to sprinkle in some friendly conversation. 

“Sorry, I was just thinking to myself,” you explained.

“I see,” he nodded. “Anything I should be aware of?”

You thought for a moment, thinking of what you should ask him.

“I suppose I was wondering what you’d be doing if you weren’t here with me,” you said, picking at your cuticles as a nervous habit.

“As in my normal day-to-day?” He asked. You nodded, clarifying.

He cleared his throat. “Well let’s see… I think I’m usually with my brother around this time; we’ve been helping with deliveries this week in the Forges.”

“Deliveries?” You set your hands back down, taking interest.

“Meals and supplies, mostly. Though I think Bofur and Nori are helping him out right now.” 

“Are you and your brother close?” 

He smiled, breathing in before he spoke. “More than anything. Though if you ask me, sometimes I’d say we’re too close.”

You raised an eyebrow at this, taking his openness as an opportunity to learn more about him. “How so?

“Sometimes we get each other caught up in rather… tough situations,” he laughed. “One of us is always covering for the other in times of need because we know the other wouldn’t dare say no.”

“Like what?” You smiled at the thought of relying so strongly on someone like a sibling. It certainly must come in handy.

Fíli seemed caught off guard by this question, looking away as he answered. “My brother wasn’t too keen on watching over you, so I took over…”

You already knew that but for some reason, hearing it still hurt a little as guilt ate away at you. Fíli looked back at you and could somehow tell, his expression quickly growing sympathetic.

“It’s nothing personal, I can assure you.” He waved his hands again as he apologized.

You gave a small nod and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I assumed. I wouldn’t be too keen to be in your situation, either.”

A short silence fell over the both of you as the awkward tension set in. What were you supposed to say after that? 

Luckily, Fíli seemed to want to keep the ball rolling. You appreciated that he seemed to be putting in the effort.

“What do you think you’ll paint first, now that you have some supplies?” He gestured to the leather pouch you had set on the table, full of brushes and paints.

You looked down at the pouch, sighing. It was a good question and one you didn’t have an answer to.

“I’m not really sure,” you said. “I usually always used references back home. Sometimes I’d be out for hours just sitting in the field I was painting so I could make it as accurate as possible.”

“You also did portraits though, right? Would my likeness help?” He smirked. “I’ve been told I add charm to any portrait.”

Caught off guard by his sudden flirtatious comment, you rolled your eyes. “Like I said, I prefer landscapes. I also don’t paint people I just met.”

He waved you off. “It was a jest, don’t get all smart with me now.” He sighed, chuckling to himself. “My mother would be grateful if you did, though.”

“Your mother?” You raised a brow.

“She’s attempting to have me start courting some of the dams here, and apparently it starts with a good portrait.” He fiddled with the beaded braids of his beard. “I’ve always preferred someone’s real face, though. Paintings can hide so much.”

“You’ve never seen an honest painting, then.” You scoffed, then immediately caught yourself. “Sorry.”

He smiled softly, looking at you with an expression in his eyes that you couldn’t discern. “Speak your mind, I won’t complain.”

You laughed through your nose, running a hand through your hair as you cracked your neck and stretched. Perhaps this dynamic between you two wasn’t going to be as awkward as you thought.

Now two weeks into your stay, you had found yourself in a familiar routine alongside Fíli. Mornings you had to yourself, often going to the market to find something to eat while Fíli would be running his own errands elsewhere. He’d rejoin you in the afternoon, teaching you how to defend yourself in the privacy of the royal family’s training halls. Then at night, the two of you would share a meal. Kíli would often join you two for dinner before parting ways, usually ending with you retiring to the bathhouses.

Your free time had also allowed you to begin painting again; most of your pieces were studies of your room or the market. Being able to tap back into your hobby had immensely helped you grow comfortable in Erebor, as you allowed yourself to have something familiar in a kingdom so unknown. Just like Fíli suggested, you had even begun trading your artwork at the market, often painting personal portraits that older dwarrowdams requested for their husbands. 

You also began to keep a diary — though you refused to call it that. Rather than being addressed to the journal, you started each entry with ‘Dear Fíli’. It was silly and you hoped he would never find it, but you found it much easier to write your accounts if they were addressed to a person. And being that he was the only person you really spoke to these days, save for his brother, it felt convenient. 

Speaking of Fíli, your attention was drawn from the latest sketch you were working on as three soft knocks sounded on your door. You could tell it was him based on how he knocked at this point, bidding him entry as you erased a small mistake in your outline. 

He opened your door, walking in to admire the sketch behind you. “What’s this one going to be?”

“The dam who runs the spice stall, Bralva,” you spoke, careful to keep your pencil strokes light. 

“I don’t recall her hair being that red,” he mused. 

“She has trouble washing it, it’s much shinier when it’s clean,” you said. He hummed in response. 

“How were your deliveries?” You asked, setting your pencil down finally as you faced him. 

“Short and quick, thankfully,” he sighed. “I had some extra time afterwards, so I managed to stop by Bombur’s bakery and order some pastries.”

You perked up at the idea of sweets. “What kind?”

“That’s for you to know later. Consider them as an incentive for training today.” He grinned. 

You sighed, thinking of how sore you were just from yesterday’s training. You had already quickly learned a lot about Fíli in these two weeks, including his tenacity for training. Even though you knew he was pulling his punches, he was still a formidable enemy. 

“Is it time for that already?” A groan escaped your lips as you thought of dodging his attacks for another two hours. 

“Practice is better when it’s consistent, Y/N. Besides, you’re doing great so far.” He waved your complaints off. “Just think of the fresh pastries!”

Another thing you had learned about Fíli was despite the fact that he was the Crown Prince, he was almost entirely as immature as his younger brother, and even cockier to boot. He always asked when the next portrait you drew would be of him; when you told him you didn’t plan on doing so, he’d claim it was because his looks were too powerful to contain in any art medium. He always said it in a joking tone, of course, but you knew a part of him meant it. It almost made you want to paint him perfectly out of spite. Almost.

“Alright, fine. Let’s get a move on,” you said, putting away your pencils.

“Fix your stance, it’s too weak,” Fíli reminded you for the umpteenth time before kicking your legs from under you.

You crashed onto the floor once again, your body both sore and numb from the repeated falls onto the floor. You were grateful it was carpeted and not the solid stone of the mountain.

“If you would just give me the time to do so,” you trailed off, quickly getting back on your feet in enough time to dodge a swing of his fist. You used the momentum of his swing to push and turn him around, but he only stumbled for a moment.

He was a seasoned warrior, after all. And you were just some cushiony noble who hadn’t fought a day in their life.

“Time is short in combat,” he instructed, quickly dodging a kick from you as you tried to draw him further away from you. “Your opponent isn’t going to give you a time out just because you need to readjust your feet.”

You stepped back as he now approached you, aiming targeted punches that barely missed your chest and shoulders as you haphazardly dodged and redirected them. “Then maybe you should try and teach me something new instead of constantly knocking me do–”

And down went your body back onto the floor due to Fíli’s attacks. You groaned, this time writhing on the ground instead of quickly returning to your feet. You were growing tired of dodging and bobbing and falling and weaving through his assaults.

Perhaps it was out of pity or sympathy, but it seemed Fíli was also ready to take a break as he grabbed his waterskin and took a drink. You watched him from the floor as his back was turned to you; it seemed you finally had an opening now.

Quietly, you crawled nearer until you reached with outstretched arms to grab his ankle, pulling it instantly towards you. With a grunt of surprise, he stumbled back and you were all too ready to express your victory. But gravity took over as he plummeted backwards now, falling on top of you in a tangle of limbs and pain. 

You had won, but at what cost?

You winced in pain, having hit your head on impact as a groan left your lips. You were also now soaked with the blood of your second victim: Fíli’s waterskin. This didn’t feel like a victory. 

Even Fíli needed a moment before he could even move, groaning in pain as he tried to readjust himself off of you. “What was that supposed to be?”

“A small win,” you said, rubbing the back of your head in pain. 

“And was it worth it?” He laughed weakly. 

You rolled your eyes, refusing to look at him. “Oh, shut up.”

Suddenly, you felt a new hand massaging the back of your head. You quickly turned to see Fíli kneeling beside you, checking you for injuries. 

“Did you hit it?” He asked, inquiring about your head. 

You couldn’t even speak, instead giving him a small nod. 

Gods, you must’ve really hit your head! Why else were you finding yourself flustered when a wet, warm and roguishly handsome dwarf was this close to you? And looking at you with such care in his eyes? Wait, did you say handsome?

He leaned back, retracting his hand as he stood up, offering you a hand to help. You tried your best to snap out of your trance, but it was proving to be harder than expected. Had he always looked this good when you two were training? Had his muscles always glowed in his sweaty state? 

Gods. You thought you might have a concussion at this rate.

“I think it’s best we call it a night for now,” he frowned, quickly grabbing the pastries from earlier. “Let’s get some food in you and then have your head checked out.”

You furrowed your brows, confused. “What? No, it’s fine, I’ll just need—“

“It could be serious, Y/N.” Fíli’s tone held firm. “These floors aren’t exactly soft.”

Finally, you were coming back to your senses. There was no point in arguing either, not with the serious look he was giving you. “Okay. Let’s go and eat.”

After dinner, Fíli had taken you straight to the infirmary, not wasting a moment to get your head checked out. You were thankful for his swiftness too, feeling quite dizzy after dinner. Your vision seemed to focus in and out and your head was throbbing. Fíli had to help walk you to the infirmary, his stony expression not helping your emotions in your fugue state.

“You bruised your head,” the medic had told you, his tone stern as his fingers tangled themselves in your hair to look at your scalp. “Not too bad; there's no blood. We'll need to be weary of the severity, these things are hard to treat when they’re serious. You’ll have to be put on rest for at least a week.”

“A week?” You had asked with a frown. 

“If the pain or your vision gets worse then it’ll have to be even longer. Come back and see me immediately if that’s the case..” The medic shuffled over to his shelves of dried herbs, gathering a collection in a sachet for you as he spoke.

“How serious could it be?” Fíli asked.

“It’s hard to tell with bumps on the head,” the medic replied. “Especially when there isn’t any blood. My uncle couldn’t speak for months because of it. And I know you're aware of Bifur's case.” 

“Then what do you suggest I do?” You asked, ignoring the mention of Bifur. You’d have to ask Fíli about that later if you could remember. 

The medic finished his rummaging, now placing ten sachets of herbs in a small pouch before giving it to you. “Brewed in a tea, these should help with the pain. I can always give you more, but try to use them sparingly.”

“And I suppose sparring is out of the question?” Fíli already knew the answer but he asked so you could hear it. 

“Very much so. Nothing strenuous on the mind or the body for the next week. Consider yourself with a lot of free time to do nothing in the coming days,” the medic said. “Remember: if the pain or your vision worsens over the week, come and see me. I pray it won’t be that serious — the bruise is very faint.”

And now here you were, lying in your bed and staring at the open ceiling of your canopy, your head throbbing in pain. You had hoped lying down would’ve provided any solace, but with your dizziness and blurry vision, it didn’t seem to help much. 

“Here, drink this.” Fíli handed you a mug of some dark and musty smelling liquid. You winced upon smelling it. “Come on, it’ll help. You heard him.”

You sat up, receiving the mug and immediately closing your eyes to avoid the nausea. “How fast will it work?”

“You won’t know until you drink it, Y/N.”

You didn’t have the time, patience or energy to argue, bringing the mug to your lips and drinking. You were grateful Fíli hadn’t brewed it too hot; it was the perfect temperature not to scald you. 

“Thank you again,” you breathed, opening your eyes again. Fíli had gone through the trouble to help you back to your room and brew your tea for you, checking on you constantly. “For everything.”

“I’m just doing my duty,” he assured you as he blew out some of the candles in your room, making it dimmer. “There. Bright enough to see but not enough to blind. Is that better?”

You nodded. “Much. You’re so good at this.”

“I’ve had to help my mother tend to Kíli more than a few times in my youth,” he chuckled. “He was never as good as me when it came to climbing trees. Sure knew how to fall, though.”

“Did he ever have a bruised head like me?”

“Oh, he’s had it worse than you, believe me. He’s almost died before.” His tone was softer as he spoke. 

“That sounds much nicer than living with this,” you gestured to your head. 

Fíli smiled softly, sitting on your storage chest. “There’s no need for morbid jokes like that; you’re not dying.”

It sure felt like it. The throbbing was constant, like soldiers marching right on top of your brain. You were sure you’d wake up the next day with footsteps all over you. 

Thankfully, your vision had settled a little with the dimmer light. “I think I’ll be going to bed soon,” you sighed. 

Fíli shook his head. “Not yet, not until your symptoms improve with the tea. That’s what the medic said. That’s how we’ll know if you’re actually alright to sleep.”

“But it’s been hours since then,” you said. “I’m so tired.” 

“And you can sleep soundly once you’ve started feeling better. That’s an order.”

You waved him off, knowing it was impossible to argue with him. He was so many things, and stubborn was one of them. Cocky, immature and stubborn. 

“I’ll keep you company until anything improves.” He said, watching you take another gulp of the tea.

Cocky. Immature. Stubborn.

Cocky. He had kept overpowering you in training today, knocking you down all the time as a means of teaching you to dodge better. Maybe it was the pain making you bitter, but you still felt sore about today’s training. Very sore.

Immature. He had knocked you down multiple times, all with his own special comedic timing. Prick.

Stubborn. And now, after all of this, he wouldn’t leave your side; you weren’t even sure of how long it would be for. Great.

But you knew you were just being delusional. Sure, he was often teasing you about your portraits or overpowering you in training, but he hadn’t been that way since your injury. It was like you were seeing a whole new side to him. He was making your tea and helping you get to the medic. He was even staying by your side to keep you company and keep an eye on your symptoms. 

Maybe it was the head injury, but you were starting to think that he cared, even if just a little. 

You took another gulp, rolling your eyes at your own inner monologue. It was definitely the head injury.

Everything about your mandated rest only seemed to frustrate you. Sure, you could do everything that you normally could do before, save for training, but having to go to sleep with musty tea and headaches every night wasn’t exactly paradise.

You often resigned yourself to your room for most of the day, painting out of stress or frustration at the fact that this injury was taking so long to heal. You had tried walking around in the markets to get some steps in, but the bright lights and noise of the vendors’ stalls only irritated your mind more. For that reason you often spent time hiding away in libraries for fresh air when you were sick of your room’s four walls.

Fíli was around less, too; with you out of commission, he had taken on more deliveries and visited you less. As your bodyguard, he was still obligated to be by your side, but you had agreed it would be easier if he wasn’t sitting in your room all day with you. He had duties, after all. In these last five days, you wouldn’t see him until he joined you in the late afternoon, bringing dinner with him for you two to share a meal. 

You had come to appreciate this sentiment greatly. It was amazing how much some friendly interaction seemed to help you, especially when he was always checking in on how you were feeling. Like clockwork, you would find your painting sessions interrupted by the smell of fresh food and conversation. But once he would retire to his own room, the boredom would attack again.

Despite the boredom the healing process brought you, it wasn’t all for naught. Your vision had already gone back to normal and you found yourself less and less dizzy as the days went on by. But the throbbing in your head (while much less than before) was constant and it drove you mad. Sleeping at night had become a tall task; at times it felt as though the tea wasn’t proving to be as strong as it had in the beginning. 

Tonight was another sleepless night, the candle dripping wax as it lit up the newest journal entry you were writing; you had been making many entries to help you journal through this tough time. Most of them were about your injury or your boredom, but tonight was different.

This one was about Fíli. In fact, the last one had also been about Fíli. It was starting to become a pattern for you due to a rather unfortunate circumstance. 

You were having dreams about him. 

Maybe it was your concussion or the fact that you found yourself lonely every now and again in the night but you kept finding yourself dreaming of Fíli. 

You chalked it up to your mind trying to find something distracting to cure your endless fits of boredom, opting to write these dreams and feelings down as a means of getting them out of your head.

You set your pencil down, reading over the first page.

Dear Fíli,

I awake to thoughts of you yet again. Have you always looked like firelight, or have the effects of my headaches finally caught up to me? Your hair is that of melted glass. I dearly want to touch it. Wrap my fingers in it. I wonder if it is soft. I wonder if you are soft.

All too quickly, you found yourself disturbed by what you had written. This was insane! You felt crazy writing about how pretty the dwarf looked in your dreams. Nothing about this felt normal to you, all of it felt foreign, especially the dreams you were having.

Flustered, you put away your letter, hoping the thoughts would leave your mind if the reminders were out of sight. You were just lonely, right? Lonely and isolated due to needing rest, that was all.

Knock, knock, knock!

You jumped in your seat, a hand flying to your chest as Fíli’s knocks startled you out of your thoughts. Quickly, you made sure the letters were well hidden under your painting supplies before you opened the door, trying your best to look as normal as possible.

“Fíli? Is something the matter?” You furrowed your brows, confused on why he would be here so late in the night. You two had already eaten dinner and parted your separate ways.

He grinned, holding another bag of pastries in his hands. He must’ve visited Bombur again. “I bring good news. May I come in?”

You opened the door wider before returning to your bed. Fíli made himself comfortable on your storage chest. “The bakery is open this late?”

He chuckled, handing you a fresh pastry, the smell bringing a smile to your face. “Bombur’s pulling an all nighter to make sure his stock is ready for tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow night?” Your mouth was full of food as you spoke, quickly covering your mouth as you chewed and swallowed. “What’s tomorrow?”

Fíli’s eyes widened, looking at you as if you had hit your head. Oh, the irony.

“Haven’t you heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Mahal, did I not tell you?” He genuinely seemed flabbergasted and your curiosity was wearing thin.

“Fíli, what on earth is it?” You asked.

“There’s a banquet tomorrow night, Y/N. Everyone’s been talking about it at the market.” He finally took a bite of his own pastry, the heavenly scent permeating the room.

“I haven’t been to the market in two days, you knew that,” you rolled your eyes, but the idea of a banquet piqued your interest greatly. “What’s the banquet for?”

“Brothers from the Iron Hills have come to visit, my cousin Dain included. They’ve come to see the progress Uncle has made to restore our home.” He took another bite, relishing the taste. You found yourself too fixated on watching him eat. “You’ll come, won’t you?”

You shook your head free of its weird thoughts. “Tomorrow? I’m not sure.” 

You frowned, worried about your injury. Banquets were gloriously regal but often full of bright lights and noises, both of which you still weren’t well enough to tackle.

“Are you going?” You asked, wondering if he’d be leaving your side tomorrow if you chose not to attend.

“I have to, at least for a little while. Thorin has Kíli and I give Dain a tour of the Forges before it starts.” He leaned back, getting comfortable. “After that, we’ll probably escape to meet the rest of the boys.”

You raised a brow. “Who?”

“Everytime we hold a banquet, Kíli and I socialize for a little while before sneaking off to our own hiding spot. At first it was to avoid our mother hunting down suitors for us, but now it’s become a tradition.” He chuckled. “We’ve even got Threl and Ori meeting us up there now, and I think Kíli has invited Gloín’s son, Gimli.”

You laughed. “The princes of Erebor don’t like to party? I find that quite hard to believe.”

“Oh, quite the opposite.” He threw a wink your way, flustering you as you quickly stuffed your face to hide it. “But it’s hard to have fun when your mother and uncle keep making you dance with every dwarrowdam within sixty miles. So, we have to get crafty!”

“What did you do last time?” You asked, your voice stuffed with food. Your manners had been loosening up while staying here.

“We snuck three barrels of mead with Bofur’s help,” he smiled at the thought. “It cost us three of his shifts but it was worth it. This year’s going to be much different, though.”

“Different?” You finished your pastry. “How so?”

“Well, now it’s more than just my brother and I. We’ve got three others joining us this time, and Kíli wants to spend the night playing drinking games, but that’s because he thinks he can outdrink Gimli.”

“Can –?”

“Not at all.”

You laughed, imagining all of the shenanigans a drunken prince could get into. You barely knew Kíli, having eaten with him only a handful of times, but he gave the vibe of a mischievous drunkard. 

“You’ll have a great time if you come,” he said. “And it’ll give you some freedom from your room.”

“I’m just worried,” you tucked a loose strand of hair away, feeling anxious. “I don’t want to risk anything with my headaches right now. Lights and noises have only been making it worse.”

You wanted to go, to socialize with someone, anyone. But there were simply too many risks, too many worries.

He tossed you another pastry, making you look over at him.

“Come, even if just for a moment,” he said. “The minute you don’t feel well, I’ll bring you to your room myself. But getting out of here would do you some good, Y/N. You’re getting uneasy.”

Your eyes widened, worried. Had he seen your letters? “How do you know that?”

“Y/N.” His tone was flat as he gestured to your room. “I don’t mean to offend, but look at the state of the place.”

Oh. That’s what he had meant. You sighed out of relief as you bit into the pastry. The midnight snack was doing wonders right now despite the fact that he had pointed out how messy your room was getting. 

“Fair enough.”

Almost twenty-four hours later, your room was back to its usual state and it was already improving your mood greatly. Maybe your mother had been right about nagging you to clean your room as a child. Your mind felt cleaner now that your room didn’t mirror its mess. 

And speaking of a clear mind, last night had been the first night of decent sleep in a while. No weird dreams, no restlessness, and you woke up feeling especially refreshed. Noises were still bothering you, which you had discovered while getting breakfast down at the market, but lights were a lot less irritating. 

This was good, as Erebor was brighter than it had ever been; metal lanterns hung on every corner of the kingdom, lighting the market and the great halls as everyone hustled and bustled preparing for the banquet . 

You had managed to finish two more portraits as the day went on, the sun setting behind the mountain before you even realized it. Soon, Fíli would be here to fetch you. 

You wondered what his friends were like. If they were anything like him, you were prepared for a whole lot of cockiness and childish humor. You smiled to yourself at the thought of Fíli getting drunk, wondering what his tolerance was like. He seemed like the type who could handle his liquor.

Knock, knock, knock. 

“Come in,” you called as you continued touching up your newest painting. 

The door opened and soon you felt Fíli lean down behind you to peer at your canvas. “And who am I meeting this time?”

“A young dam named Annis,” you answered. 

“The new lass at the bakery?” 

“The very same.” You dipped your paintbrush in another color as you carefully fixed a mistake you had made with her nose. 

“She makes a wonderful bread with cheese,” he hummed. 

“I know, she gave some to me as a gift this morning. Apparently she made too many for tonight.” You smiled at the thought of the tasty meal you had earlier. 

“And speaking of tonight,” he backed away from you know, sitting on your storage chest as usual. “Are you ready?”

You scoffed. “Clearly not if I’m painting.”

“Well, obviously. I meant more so in a general sense.” He rolled his eyes. 

“The answer’s still no, but alright.” You found a stopping point and began putting your supplies away, leaving the painting on its easel to dry. 

You stood up and stretched, cracking your knuckles. “I need to change, but I can do that quickly. Should I dress a certain way? I’ve never been to a dwarven banquet.”

“Oh, they’re very regal, but only for the ladies.” He chuckled. 

You looked confused, not understanding. 

He coughed. “To impress men. Most dams look for others to court at banquets.”

You rolled your eyes. “So the answer to my question is no?”

“Well, yes, but nobody’s stopping you from dressing yourself up.”

You ignored his comment, looking through some of your clothes that lay on your bed. You were deciding on an outfit earlier but had opted to wait for Fíli’s opinion. Not that it was doing any good. 

“And what is everyone else wearing?” You asked. 

“Does it matter?” He raised a brow. 

“Well, I’d very much like to blend in with your friends, so yes.”

“Y/N, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you’re not a dwarf. You’re going to stand out.” 

You groaned, throwing a tunic at him. “If you’re not going to be helpful, then leave so I can change.”

He caught it with a shit-eating grin, holding back his laughter from his teasing. “Alright, alright. But hurry up, I told Kíli we’d be there soon.”

One casual outfit change led to Fíli guiding you through Erebor to his ‘secret spot’. Despite his eagerness to join his friends, you were grateful that he took you through a quiet path to get there. 

Twists and turns led you through one wine cellar, an empty staircase, and a ruined library before eventually bringing you to a wide and open balcony, hidden from anyone passing by. It hung over the great hall where the banquet was being held, giving you a perfect view of the events below. Your eyes lit up in awe, both from the sheer height of the balcony and the amount of people you saw down below. Dwarves were already naturally short, but from here they looked like ants dancing over stone floors. 

“Is this that noble you were talking about, Fíli?” An unfamiliar voice asked, prompting you to turn around and take in the sight of the balcony, which had been decked out with a wide table and benches. 

Seated at the table were four others, but you only recognized Kíli. Fíli made his way over, taking a seat as he waved a hand at you to invite you to sit down next to him. 

“Aye, this is Y/N.” He said, introducing you. You gave a small nod, taking in your new surroundings. 

“Are you drinking with us?” Kíli asked.

“No,” Fíli interjected before you could say anything. “They’ll be sticking to water tonight.”

“I’m sure one pint won’t hurt me,” you scolded. It was a nice gesture that he was looking out for you, but there was no way you could handle the pressure of meeting new people without some liquid courage. Even if you weren’t going to get drunk, having something to hold onto would help your nerves. 

Fíli raised both of his hands in surrender at your words, a smirk on his lips. 

“An excellent choice!” Kíli grinned, elbowing one of the younger dwarves at the table. “Ori, get them something to drink before we start.”

Ori, who you now realized was the younger redhead with the unfortunate haircut, quickly fetched a drink of mead for you, setting it down in front of you with a smile as you thanked him. 

“Are we starting already? They’re finally here now,” the brown haired dwarf with blue eyes said, gesturing to you and Fíli. 

“Come on, don’t be like that; we got here as soon as we could,” Fíli explained. 

“Don’t mind him,” the other young redhead spoke, his beard longer than everyone else’s. “Threl’s just eager to start drinking.”

“Well no one’s stopping you!” Ori teased, raising his mug as a cheer. You laughed under your breath at their antics. 

“What are we playing?” You asked, finally speaking up. 

“Strike the Iron.” Kíli said, drawing a set of metal die and a leather dish, which he set in the middle of the table. 

“It’s easy, don’t worry. You’ll catch on quickly,” Fíli grinned, now armed with his own pint. “You throw the die and whatever it lands on decides your fate.”

“My fate?” You raised a brow. 

“Should we start with one since Y/N’s never played?” Ori offered.

“Who says they can’t learn with two?” The other redhead retorted. A part of you was hoping someone would say his name so you could learn it without asking.

Kíli waved him off. “We can start with one for now. Threl, you can go first since you’re rushing us all.”

Threl laughed at this, taking the dice and separating them, giving Kíli the extra. He tossed the single die into the leather dish. All of you eagerly watched as it rolled around before eventually landing on its side.

“Matkati, of course,” he playfully rolled his eyes and took a heaping gulp of his malt.

“That’s what you get for being impatient,” Fíli laughed. He then turned to you to explain. “Matkati means you take a drink.”

You nodded, repeating the word under your breath. The rules seemed to be simple enough so far.

Fíli took the die and tossed it as well, reading the side it landed on. “Mafsiki. Alright, who’s asking me the question?”

“Question?” You raised a brow.

Kíli snickered. “It means we get to ask him to tell us a secret.”

“Let Y/N ask it, since they’re new.” Ori smiled your way and you were caught off guard by the way everyone agreed. Well now you had been put on the spot.

“Ask away,” Fíli smiled at you, a hand on his beer as he took a sip. 

You thought for a moment, finding yourself overwhelmed with the opportunity. There was so much you could ask of him.

“Tell us who has the lowest tolerance at the table,” you said, opting for a question that was relevant to everyone here.

“Gimli,” he pointed at the other redhead, who was not happy to have his name in someone’s mouth. At least you finally had a name to the face.

“You liar!” He stood up, pointing his own finger at Fíli as everyone at the table roared with laughter. “You couldn’t outdrink me if you tried!”

Even Kíli stood, offended. “You lie! Everyone knows that you can’t handle your mead!”

“That was one time, Kíli!” Fíli retorted. “And need I remind you how we got in that situation?!”

“It’s your turn, Y/N,” Threl said, wiping a tear from his eye.

“I didn’t mean to cause any fighting,” you said while taking the die.

“Oh, don’t apologize!” Threl laughed. “Gimli’s always had a temper. He can’t tell a joke from a declaration of war.”

Gimli wasn’t having any of this, drinking his beer with a fiery passion. Hesitantly, you tossed the die into the leather dish, watching it roll around before it landed on the same symbol from earlier. “Mafsiki, right?”

“Now you’re getting it!” Threl grinned. “Who wants to ask them something?”

“My, who knew khuzdul sounded so nice on your tongue, Y/N,” Fíli chuckled, sending a wink your way. You eagerly took a drink to hide your face from his gaze.

“I’ll go,” Ori chimed in. “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk?”

“While drunk?” You repeated, thinking to yourself. You hadn’t drank much back home, save for the occasional wine you’d sip as you painted. “I suppose I’ve accidentally slept on one of my paintings before.”

“Slept on a painting?” Ori repeated, eyes widening. “Was it dry?”

You chuckled. “Definitely not, it was ruined by the time I woke up. I was so upset; I think I cried.”

“That’s all? That’s not very adventurous,” Kíli scoffed. You were beginning to notice that he was much cockier than his brother. 

You shrugged. “I wasn’t known for my adventures back home. Being here is the most adventurous I’ve ever had to be.”

“Well then, it can’t be helped.” Ori said as he tossed the die. This time it landed on a new side, and you quickly looked to Fíli for an explanation. 

“Magli,” he whispered in your ear and you tried not to focus on how close he was as he spoke, his breath sending a shudder down your spine. “It means he’ll have to perform whatever daring task someone can come up with.”

“And I’ve already got the perfect one!” Gimli said proudly, slamming his drink on the table. It seems he had calmed down fairly quickly. 

“You, my lad,” he said, waving a finger in Ori’s face. “Need to go fetch us a platter of the meats they’re serving downstairs.”

Immediately, everyone started laughing and agreeing wholeheartedly. The table roared in agreeance and the rumbling of everyone’s stomachs.

“Yes, you must!” Kíli grinned, and Ori rolled his eyes as he stood up to leave. 

“These next tasks better not be errands!” He frowned, leaving the hidden balcony as he went to go do Gimli’s bidding. 

“Does he really have to go all the way back?” You asked. 

“Aye, if he wants to keep playing,” Gimli nodded. “Otherwise he’s exiled from the table.”

“That feels rather harsh,” you frowned. 

“It’s simply the rules, Y/N,” Fíli chuckled. “Gimli, hurry up and play. None of us here are drunk enough.”

“Aye, don’t rush me!” Gimli scolded, taking the die in his hand. 

Three long hours later, Gimli and Ori were out for the count, drunken and babbling nonsensical things as they laid on top of each other on the floor. You had to come to know that this was quite normal for them. Kíli, as you had predicted, had abandoned the group to go wildly dancing at the banquet down below. Every now and then, you and Threl would look over the balcony to see if you could spot the brown-haired prince from so high up.

“His mother will sure be happy to see him dancing with young dams,” Threl had snickered.

“The question is whether or not he’ll remember any of them in the morning,” you had retorted.

Fíli himself was also quite drunk; you had realized early on that he was even more of a lightweight than Gimli, having to switch his drink to water earlier in the game. Threl and yourself were the only sober ones, which you found ironic when Threl had been so eager to drink earlier.

At some earlier point in the night, all of you had abandoned the game, opting for drunken conversation mixed with the occasional dancing. You learned that Kíli and Ori were very light on their feet when it came to fast-paced dances. Gimli and Threl, on the other hand, found something as simple as waltzing to be a challenge. And Fíli? Well, he seemed to be a bigger fan of humming and clapping along to the music.

Eventually you all decided to return to the iron dice, but it was becoming much more intimate now that it was down to only three players: Threl, Fíli and yourself. 

You tossed the die into the dish, laughing to yourself as Fíli slumped against Threl, muttering how dear their friendship was to him. You hadn’t pegged him to be a sentimental drunk.

“Falling asleep already?” You scoffed, quickly reading the die to determine your fate. “It’s mafsiki.”

“Not in your wildest dreams, dear,” Fíli waved your question off and you did your best to not find yourself flustered by the pet name. He was a sentimental and affectionate drunk; you had been slowly discovering this as the night went on. “Threl, my brother, ask them a question.”

“Alright,” he chuckled. “Y/N, how far can I take these questions?”

“We’ve already made steady progress, Threl.” You rolled your eyes. “I suppose anything’s on the table when you’ve already asked Kíli what he’s like in bed.”

He laughed at this, taking a swig of his mead. “In my defense, I thought he wouldn’t answer!”

“That’s a lie and you know it,” you scoffed. Even if you weren’t close with Kíli, you knew he wouldn’t shy away from something so easily. You still couldn’t shake the image that Kíli had a thing for bondage. It seems you learn something new everyday. 

“Fair enough, I see your point. Let me think of something then.” He scratched his beard, setting his drink down to think. “Oh, I’ve got it.”

He leaned in from across the table, a devilish smirk on his face. “What’s a lie you’ve told yourself?”

“Well that isn’t particularly raunchy,” you frowned. You were expecting more. Perhaps even hoping for more.

“But it’s still interesting enough, I’d say,” Fíli chimed in.

“It seems the jury agrees with me, Y/N,” Threl chuckled.

You tucked a loose strand of hair away as you thought, wondering if there were any lies you had been telling yourself lately. Very little came to mind, but one in particular seemed to stick out.

“I suppose I keep telling myself that everything’s okay while I’m here,” you began with a sigh. “But I still have someone who wants me dead out there. And staying here and meeting such lovely people as you doesn’t change the fact that I’m a dead man walking.”

A silence fell over you three as you fiddled with your hair, unsure of what to do now. You had answered truthfully in order to keep playing, but it also felt as though you had ruined the mood. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so melanchol–” You began, interrupted when Fíli reached a hand over to rest on your shoulder, offering your reassurance.

“Gandalf is a friend,” he offered a small smile. “If he says you’re safe here, then safe is what you are. And I intend to help in any way I can.”

“I may not know your entire situation,” Threl offered. “But what my friend says is true. Especially if Fíli is your trainer. He’s a formidable fighter to have on your side.”

You smiled, silently thanking them for their reassurance. While it didn’t settle your inner qualms, it still felt quite lovely to know that there were people here who cared that you existed. That appreciated the fact that you were here, despite the reasons. And it was especially encouraging to know that you had allies.

“You know what we need at this moment?” Fíli asked, elbowing Threl.

“What’s that?” Threl gave Fíli a confused expression.

“More players! I’m sure if you go and fetch Kíli and find my dear friend Bofur, we can finally start playing with two dice!” Fíli’s pink cheeks glowed as he flashed a smile thinking of his friends.

Threl seemed quite keen on the idea, standing up quickly to leave. “Alright, but I doubt it will be easy with Kíli dancing. Wish me luck!”

You waved a short goodbye to the blue-eyed dwarf before turning to face Fíli again, whose expression was much more serious now. It caught you off guard, startling you for a moment.

“Is everything alright?” You asked.

“Y/N…” His voice was clearer now, and despite his flushed face, you would have assumed he was much more sober now. “I don’t think I’ve ever truly apologized for your injuries–”

“Fíli, what are you saying?” You cut him off. “We were training, it wasn’t your fault–”

“Let me finish.” His eyes burned into yours and you shifted in your seat, feeling uncomfortable in his blue gaze. This was a complete shift from his earlier behavior and you were uncertain of where it was leading.

“I cannot help but feel guilty that my training has led to such an injury. You were brought here out of fear and because of that, you’ve had to find a place for yourself here, in a world that isn’t your own. I just…”

He paused and you drew another breath, unsure of where he was leading with this. Your heart was beating all too fast inside your chest.

“I need you to understand that while you haven’t been here long, I have grown quite accustomed to our routines.” He continued as he pushed through a fit of hiccups, which was the only thing reminding you of his drunken state. “While you are here, I will allow no harm to come to you. I swear it. I am wholly at your service for absolutely anything you will need. Anything.”

“Fíli, that’s…” You couldn’t find the words, taken aback by his proclamation. “That’s very kind of you.”

A short silence fell over you two and you were contemplating on finally telling Fíli about the feelings and dreams you had been having lately, but time was not on your side. 

“Aye, it’s hopeless!” A voice cut through, interrupting your thoughts as its owner walked back in with empty hands and a frown on his face. Threl was not pleased. “Kíli won’t come up here, believe me I tried.”

Fíli gave you one last longing look before turning to Threl and standing up, getting ready to leave. You took in the whole scene before you, still pondering the words he had spoken to you earlier. 

“You can’t be serious, brother. Here, we’ll all go find him together!”

Knock, knock, knock! You awoke quickly from the sound, springing out of bed to open the door to a smiling Fíli.

“What time is it?” You asked, your voice a few tones deeper and a bit raspy from waking up. You winced from the light that came in from the hallway, much brighter than your dark room.

Fíli stifled a laugh. “You sound like me! Is everything alright?”

“Fíli, it’s early.” You groaned. “What do you want?”

“You, obviously. Why else would I be here?”

You didn’t even have time to fantasize about the meaning of his words before he was already inviting himself in, lighting some candles along the way. It was indeed too early for anything this morning.

“I’m sorry?” You asked, seeking an explanation.

“You’ve been healed for a few days already, correct?” He looked at you to answer, despite already knowing the answer.

Three days ago, one month since you had arrived in Erebor, you had visited the medic for a final check up on your head. Thankfully, all of your headaches had dulled away and the rest of your symptoms were minimal if not completely gone. The bruise on your head had also healed tremendously; with all of these good signs, the medic had officially cleared your diagnosis, meaning you could resume your normal life again.

“Yes, you know this.” It was too early for these antics.

“I know, but humor me for the time being. I’ve planned the perfect get-well gift for you.” His smile was practically beaming now, as though he couldn’t contain his excitement.

You sighed, crossing your arms. “What is it?”

“I’m not telling you.” He said, feeling cheeky. If you weren’t annoyed before, you sure as hell were now.

“Fíli, I’d love nothing more than to go back to sleep.” You walked back over to your bed, fully intent on climbing back into the sheets. It was probably still warm, too, but Fíli had other plans.

“And I know it,” he said, quickly moving to put himself between you and your bed. If you hadn’t felt utterly exhausted, you might have found yourself feeling flustered or rather bold. But exhaustion was all you could feel right now.

“But I can assure you this will be worth it. And it has to be now.” His eyes bore into your own, waiting eagerly for your answer.

You sighed. It seemed there was no chance of winning against him.

“Just let me get dressed before I change my mind.”

Fíli made a sound of victory as he practically jumped off of your storage chest to exit your room. Even if he was annoying, he still would give you privacy. The door shut behind him, and you cast one more longing look at your bed before scurrying to find yourself an outfit.

It seemed it would be another day of a cozy tunic and trousers.

Finally dressed and following Fíli as he guided you through the kingdom’s halls, you were starting to feel more awake and more curious of what his planned surprise could possibly be. Even the idea that he had planned something special for you was giving you butterflies. How long had he been planning this? Or was this a sudden idea of his?

You tried your best to contain your excitement, not wanting to romanticize anything too much. Indeed, your growing feelings towards your bodyguard were still something you wished to keep secret.

Twists and turns and endless walking eventually led you outside of Erebor’s huge mountain gates; mighty, massive and moss-covered from the recent weather. The fresh wind hit your lungs all at once, making you feel as though you had taken the first deep breath of air in a long time. You gasped at the sensation.

The fresh fall air tickled your skin as you realized it had been too long since you had last seen the sky. The vast blue atmosphere welcomed you with its sunny warmth and you couldn’t help the smile that quickly took over your face. Outside, finally.

You hadn’t realized how much you missed it until it was all around you.

Fíli had been watching your reaction with a soft smile on his face, taking in your joy with a sense of pride. He was glad to take in your expressions. Finally realizing he was watching, you quickly composed yourself, feeling embarrassed.

“I didn’t realize that I had missed it so much,” you said, your voice hushed.

He nodded with a smile, understanding. “We miss the things we take for granted.”

You nodded, walking closer to keep up with his pace. “Is this what the surprise was?”

“Not even quite,” he laughed. “Come on, we’re almost there.” 

Eagerly you followed, unable to wipe the smile off of your face. Everything was perfect; the wind blowing your worries away. For now, all that mattered was you, Fíli and the sky. But things were only getting started.

The path was well-worn into the grass with small rocks and smooth stones occasionally jutting out from the soil. You tried your best to keep from tripping, too accustomed to the smooth carved stone of the mountain paths of Erebor. Everything about the outdoors felt so alien to your body, but you couldn’t have loved the feeling more. It felt as though you were experiencing everything again for the first time. 

Fíli, however, saw this as a perfect opportunity to tease you.

“Careful now,” he said anytime you stumbled, though it felt as though he said it whenever your foot so much as graced the presence of a hill.

“Seriously, I can manage,” you retorted with a huff.

“Really? I could’ve sworn you were about to–”

“Enough, Fíli.” You rolled your eyes, ignoring the smirk that was plastered on his face.

The journey was like this for quite some time until you began to piece together where your destination was. Needless to say, you were very excited.

“Dale? Is that where we’re going?” You asked, excitement feeding your smile.

“Just for a little while,” Fíli nodded, happy to see you had caught on. “I thought you would enjoy the time outdoors.”

“Oh, I already am,” you beamed. You could hardly contain yourself. There was fresh wind, there was the sky above you and there was an entire city of people like you waiting for you to explore it. It almost felt as though you were back home, nostalgia eating away at you as you couldn’t hold back your grin. 

“Fíli, this is wonderful,” you exclaimed.

He smirked. “Now you see why I woke you up so early. Even Kíli doesn’t know we’re here.”

“It’s a secret?” You asked.

“For now, but don’t worry.” He said. “We’ll be back before they even realize we’re gone.”

“How long do we have?” You raised a brow, curious as to why he’d chosen to keep it a secret.

“A few hours, at most. I thought you’d like to see the market first.”

He offered you his hand and you felt your heart skip a beat for a moment. You smiled, beaming down at the blonde prince as you took his hand in yours.

“I’d love nothing more.”

Despite the fact that the sun was still waking up in the sky, the busy market streets of Dale were alive and kicking. Colorful stalls decorated the cobblestone paths as vendors shouted their sales at passerby while others continued setting up their spaces. It was a vibrant and lively atmosphere that beckoned one and all to witness it. It made you think of the markets back home, despite their differences; even the markets in Erebor were different, as the stalls were lit up by lanterns that gave the illusion of a nighttime festival.

But none of these differences seemed to affect the way that your eyes glittered with joy at the sight of so many fine goods. Jewelry and clothing vendors caught your eye the most as you dragged Fíli along with you to browse the wares that were so different from the traditional dwarvish clothes you had become accustomed to. 

You had become so used to the earthy and deep tones of the mountain dyes, but here in Dale the clothes were of brighter hues. You had grown so used to the typical browns, blues and reds that the sight of such rich greens and purples blew you away. 

“Oh, just look at these, I’ve never seen such pretty dresses,” you muttered to yourself, astounded by all of the simple linen gowns the vendor was selling. They were so different from what you usually found yourself wearing, but for some reason you couldn’t shake your admiration off of them. 

“Did you want them?” Fíli asked, laughing at your childlike wonder. 

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly—“

“Y/N, don’t worry about it. Consider it my payment for your injury now that you’re well again.” He was already fetching coins from his pouch and handing them to you; you couldn’t say no. And if you could, he certainly wasn’t taking it for an answer. 

“Are you sure?” You asked. 

“I’ve already made up my mind. I’ll even carry your purchases if you’re nice enough,” he joked.

You had laughed at this, but Fíli had been quite serious. For some strange reason, he refused to let you carry any of your next two purchases. You waved it off as his stubborn determination, your mind focusing more on the next vendors your eyes landed on. Whatever his reasons were, spending this time outside was doing so much for your health. Everything was lovely in the early morning sun.

Now that you two were in the full swing of things at the market, you really wanted to find a way to buy Fíli a gift of his own. Granted, he was the only one who had brought any money, but it was the sentiment that would matter more. 

The only issue was the fact that he hadn’t left your side whatsoever. 

You wracked your brain while pretending to peruse more wares, thinking of any excuse you could use in an attempt to sneak away and look for a gift for him. What would get him to let you escape? What kind of gift would he like? You told yourself you’d know it when you found it, opting to have one less thing to worry about. 

What was stopping you from just asking him to leave? You didn’t want to ruin the surprise of finding him a gift, but couldn’t you just ask for some privacy? Perhaps it was worth a shot. 

He raised a brow, noticing the torn expression on your face. “Everything alright?”

“Can I look at a few stalls by myself?” You asked, tucking your hair back as a nervous habit. 

“You already are, I haven’t said a word,” he replied. 

You shook your head. “No, I meant completely alone.” 

“Y/N, if it’s undergarments you’re looking for, we already passed that—“

“Is nothing sacred to you?” You rolled your eyes, trying not to smile from his crass teases. A full month of listening to his constant teases and jokes was now starting to make you find them humorous, which was terrible for his ego. “Fíli, please.”

He was already smirking from his own joke, but he could sense your impatience. He sighed, looking away for a moment as he came to terms with his decision. 

“Fine. I’ll stay here, but I don’t want you leaving my sight.” He handed you some coins from his small leather purse. “Here, these should do you some good.”

You grinned. “Right, of course.”

“And make it quick,” he added. “We should start thinking of heading back home soon.”

“I understand!” You called, already walking away to quickly roam some more stands. 

You had to find a gift for Fíli, and fast. What would he like? You knew he had an affinity for his weapons, but there was no way you had enough currency to pay for such a thing. You didn’t know him well enough to know what kind of clothes he was fond of, either. Your eyes scanned the wares of the next two stalls you wandered towards, trying not to rush yourself as you searched for something that would call out to you. 

And all of a sudden, there it was. 

Nestled in a small linen-lined case was a pair of rings carved from iron, a pearl embedded in each one. Their silver shine sparkled in the early morning light, reminding you of the silver beads Fíli wrapped around his braids. You couldn’t take your eyes off of them; these were the ones that were calling to you. The iridescent freshwater pearls reminded you of his eyes; they would be perfect to weave into his hair, as they were too small to fit even your fingers. 

“Excuse me,” you called, getting the vendor’s attention. Your heart was pounding at the idea of giving Fíli such a gift. “How much are these?”

The old woman hobbled over to you, gaining a closer look at what you were pointing at. Once she realized, a relieved sigh fell from her lips. 

“Oh my, anything you’re willing to spend is fine by me, dear.” Her shrill voice said. 

“Pardon?” You raised an eyebrow, not fully understanding what she meant. 

“My son made these months ago and they never sold because of their size,” she explained. “I wouldn’t argue with any payment for these, so long as they find a home with someone else.”

“Oh, I see,” you nodded, smiling as you fingered through your coins. You handed her three, hoping it would be enough despite the fact that she was willing to sell them for dirt cheap. 

“Thank you, dear.” She took your payment thankfully, picking up the rings afterwards. “Here, allow me to package them for you so you don’t lose them.”

“Oh, thank you,” you smiled. “That’s very kind.”

Your hands eagerly received the small linen bag that the old woman gave you, the clinking of the rings inside making your smile even bigger. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what Fíli would think. Your heart was pounding at the idea.

Quickly, you looked for him, knowing he was somewhere close. After all, he had told you to stay in his sight. But as your eyes traveled over all of the stalls you had previously been to, you noticed that he was nowhere to be found. Were you lost? He must have moved from the stall that you left him at, but where?

Tucking the small bag with his gift into your tunic, you began wandering and retracing your steps, hoping to find him nearby. You were growing a little nervous, hoping he wouldn’t be upset that you must have gotten lost, especially because he had mentioned that you two should start leaving soon. Would he be in trouble if anyone in Erebor found you two missing? You frowned at the thought, not wanting to find out.

“Fíli?” You called out, hoping he’d hear you in the sea of people shopping. “Fíli?

You kept walking, the worrying feeling growing in your chest the longer you couldn’t find your companion. You drew a breath, trying to calm yourself down until a hand grasped your wrist, pulling you away into a side alley.

Shock took over your face as your front was slammed into the walls of someone’s home, the breath knocked out of your lungs as a hand quickly covered your mouth, preventing any noise from being heard. You felt something sharp poke your back and your entire body stiffened.

“Let’s find out what happens if you make any noise, hm?”

An hour had passed now, your life hanging in the balance as your attacker paced the room of the abandoned building he had taken you to. Tied and gagged against a foundational pillar, your heart pounded as all you could do was watch in horror as your attacker waited impatiently while muttering something under his breath. The lighting was too dim to make out anything about him, save for his tall and lanky build.

How could you have been such a fool? You had been too naïve to believe that Erebor was a safe place. With a bounty on your head, you’d never be safe. If only you hadn’t let your guard down, if only you hadn’t lost sight of Fíli, and where was Fíli? Only an hour had passed, but it felt like three lifetimes with the fear that stabbed your heart. 

You were really going to die here. Alone and lost, without saying goodbye.

Your attacker whipped his head to look at you, an impatient grin on his face as his blade glinted in the candlelight of the room. He slowly approached you and you desperately tried to scurry away to no avail. He laughed at this, the scar on his left cheek now visible and on full display. But knowing what he looked like only terrified you more.

No, please. Don’t let me die here.

“You know what I’ve learned about you?” He smiled eerily, cocking his head to the side. “You’re tough to track, you know. Everyone before me lost your trail in Lake Town, but I knew better. Some were saying you had returned south into Mirkwood, can you believe that? Idiots, all of them.”

He scratched the back of his head with the hilt of his blade, a means of showing it off so he could see the fear in your eyes. A feral joy etched itself into his face as he studied your expression, relishing the silent tears that sprang from your eyes.

“I knew better, alright. I trusted the tracks — you must always trust the tracks. I’m actually just surprised it took me this long to find you here. Where have you been hiding out, hm? I checked all of the ruins here; were you staying with someone? Perhaps bribing them to let you live with them? But it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

He paused and gave an almost thoughtful look. “What’s your family known for again?” He suddenly laughed and you couldn’t stop the silent tears that spilled from your eyes. “Ah, that’s it! Something about ashes and trusting one another, hm? Well, then! Do you trust me?”

You held back a choked whine as he spoke but when he reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear you quickly thrashed about, loathing the idea of him touching you. 

He hated this.

He slapped you across your face, the impact burning your skin. You cried out. Tears poured out. But you refused to meet his gaze. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing the pain and fear in your eyes, again. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest and you struggled to keep your breathing with the stress.

Please. Someone, anyone! Will no one find me?

“No wonder he wants a brat like you dead. You think you’re too good for me, hm? You think I’m not worthy of someone like you?” He stood up now, his arms crossed. “Well it’s too late! Once my friend arrives to confirm who you are, you’ll be dead. And I’ll be richer than ever. Richer than your family, that’s for sure. I wonder what I’ll spend it on?”

He backed away, now muttering to himself as he pondered the idea of how to spend his new fortune. You watched him return to his pacing, desperately trying to find a way to loosen your bonds, but it was no use. You had no weapons and the ropes he had tied you with were so tight that any slight movement in your wrists only seemed to tighten them to the point of bruising.

I’m really going to die here, aren’t I?

You sobbed through your gag, your tears staining your face and clothes as you thought about everything that had led you to this point. You thought about your father, now hating him more than ever despite the fact that he had raised you. He was the reason you were about to die alone. You thought about your mother, who had been too depressed to even wish you a proper goodbye. You wondered if she’d ever know how much you were suffering now. And of course, you thought about Erebor and all the new friends you had come to know. You would never see Kíli drunkenly dance again, or Threl try to babysit Fíli’s drunken sentimentality, or even Gimli’s competitive nature combined with Ori’s people-pleasing tendencies. 

None of them would ever see you again.

You thought of Fíli the most. You wondered how he would feel after finding out you died on his watch; you wondered if he’d ever recover. Where was he? Was he out there right now, looking for you somewhere in the market? Or had something happened to him, too? It seemed your attacker didn’t know about him, or even about Erebor. Had Fíli gone back to get help in finding you? Why else had he not found you by now? Surely the city of Dale wasn’t too much ground to cover for such a warrior as he?

I never even told him of my feelings.

You closed your eyes, unconsolable as you cried, hoping everything would be over soon. You had given up hope now, forced to acknowledge that this was the end for you. As soon as your attacker’s contact arrived, you’d be killed. You blamed yourself for believing that hiding away would keep you safe; you blamed yourself even more for your injury, which prevented you from adequately learning any self defense that would’ve helped you in this exact situation. You were outgunned and outplanned. It was hopeless. 

You were going to die here. 

Your assailant continued his pacing, still muttering to himself about all of the fine clothes he would buy for himself once he would be given the bounty, occasionally cursing to himself while wondering when his contact would arrive. A part of you found it ironic that despite how clever he had deemed himself to be in finding you, he still needed someone to double check his homework. If you weren’t gagged and crying, you would’ve probably let him know your thoughts a little too well. 

Knock, knock, knock!

Your heartbeat quickened and your body went on full alert. Fíli quickly came to mind, having grown accustomed to his patterns on your door. But Fíli wasn’t here. He didn’t know where you were. And so, three soft knocks were all it took for you to panic. This was it. You were going to die. Your muffled cries quickly sprang from your throat as your enemy shot you a devious smile before walking to the back of the dark room towards the door. 

You were out of time. 

“Do us both a favor and keep quiet, hm?” He laughed, his hand now resting on the doorknob. “Wouldn’t want this to be any messier than it—“

The door swung open, knocking him down as the air was ripped from his lungs. Your eyes squinted in an effort to make out what had happened, but the force of the door was enough to snuff out the nearby candles that illuminated your unknown enclosure. You hiked your legs closer to you, desperately trying to wrangle your wrists free to no avail. You couldn’t see anything but the noises you were hearing were enough to send your heart leaping out of your chest.

A loud thud sounded as the door creaked again and your assailant let out a pained cry, swearing in pain. Shuffling of feet reached your ears, distant at the other end of the room. More shouts and grunts could be heard, but they were not solely from your attacker. Whoever had entered the room was certainly not his contact. 

A muffled crunch was heard and you winced at the sound of your attacker’s screams of suffering. Had his bones been broken? By who? By what force? Your breathing was ragged and short as you tried to keep quiet, hoping that the mysterious new person couldn’t see or hear you. 

A yelp then a thud, closer now than previously. Followed by a hand gripping your ankle as someone had thrown your attacker towards you. You couldn’t help the scream that left your lungs aching for air as you kicked the hand away and tried your best to shuffle elsewhere.

And then the hand was no more, the sound of dragging and the door gently shutting ringing in your ears as you were left in the dark by yourself.

Your heart was pounding as a cold sweat covered your body, trying to wrap your mind over what had just happened. The ringing in your ears was only growing louder and louder as you tried to recount the last two minutes.

What bothered you more was the lack of sound on the other side of the door. No screams, no shuffles, absolutely nothing. Silence. Eerie silence.

The door creaked open once again and every fiber of your being went on high alert as the sound of footsteps and heavy panting approached you. Quickly, your bonds were cut and hands reached to remove the gag from your tear-stained face.

“Y/N…” Fíli’s voice filled your ears and you couldn’t stop yourself from throwing your entire body into his arms, sobs wracking your body. 

“There, you’re safe now, I promise you,” he whispered, his voice quiet in the silence of the room. His arms wrapped around your frame, cradling you in his hold as a safe space while you cried. His grip was tight, as if you would disappear all at once.

Your hands tangled themselves in his hair as you clutched him close to you, desperately wanting to be assured that this was real and you were safe. You needed to prove that he was here. He reciprocated by pulling you so close into him all you could breathe was him. He had found you. Everything was alright.

He raised a hand to your face, gently holding it in his calloused palms as he wiped tears from your eyes. If you weren’t in such a state of shock, you would've asked him how he was able to see in such a dark room. But questions would have to come later as your body finally had a chance to process and digest all of the trauma the last hour and half had brought you. You dove your head into his shoulder, weeping tears that stained the fur trim of his tunic. Your hands lost their vice grip on his blonde locks, now falling to his shoulders as you anchored yourself to him. His hand cradled your head, keeping you close to him as he rubbed soothing patterns along your scalp. 

“We must head back.” He waited until your cries had dulled down to silent tears and even breathing before breaking the tense silence in the room, bringing his hands into your own so you could feel that he was here by your side.

You only let out a choked sniffle as a reply, letting him help you up and lead you out the torturous dark.

“What were you doing in Dale?” Thorin’s voice echoed through the stone hall you were all gathered in and to say he was displeased would have been a massive understatement.

The moment you two had made it back inside the gates of Erebor, a worried Kíli and Ori greeted you with upsetting news; apparently, once it had been discovered by Kíli that both of you were nowhere to be found, the king had summoned you. 

“He’s not happy, Fí.” Kíli had warned. “I tried to cover for you, but I haven’t seen him this uneasy in a while. What happened out there?”

“Nothing good,” Ori frowned, inspecting the blood that was spattered on Fíli’s boots and trousers; something you had been too afraid to ask about on the journey back home.

“Where is he, Kíli?” Fíli’s tone was clipped and soft, his eyes unreadable even to you.

Only you and Fíli had been allowed to enter the Great Hall where Thorin Oakenshield resided, forced to meet with him before even thinking of doing anything else.

And now here he sat before you, regal and cold as his stony throne. He glared daggers into the both of you, demanding answers. Answers that Fíli was more than prepared to give.

“I brought them thinking it would do their mind some good,” he was firm in his response, standing at full attention before his uncle and his king.

“Some good?” The king raised a dark bushy brow. “And what good came from it? What good could have possibly come from my nephew rushing home with blood on his hands?”

“I was attacked,” you croaked, your voice weak from crying but you did your best to appear otherwise. “A man who knew of the bounty found me, he told me that they’ve been tracking me.”

“And what else do you expect of them?” Thorin stood, anger in his tone. “Do you understand how much wealth has been placed on your head?”

“Uncle, it wasn’t their fault–” Fíli stepped forward, confused by Thorin’s question, but he was interjected.

“Then tell me, should I blame you? Are you not the one I placed in charge of Y/N?” Thorin began approaching you both, his steps slow and intimidating.

Fíli held his ground, trying his best to sway the king’s mind. “Yes, and as such, I have taken care of the threat. Just like you’ve taught me.”

“Taken care of it?” His uncle repeated. It seemed he would hear none of it. 

But Fíli was persistent. “Both of the hunters who were after Y/N are dead now.”

“And I suppose that it is only a matter of time before Bard learns of this?” 

“You can send a messenger explaining–”

“I have done enough!” Thorin declared, his tone cold as ice as he stood still. His voice echoed in the hall around you, reverberating in your mind. He could not be reasoned with as he glared you and Fíli down, just mere feet in front of you two.

The room fell so silent that you could hear the shallow breaths of the king before you. Fíli took a step to put himself between you and Thorin and it was becoming harder and harder to keep up the brave face.

“I was told you would be safe here, that my people would be safe here.” The king’s cold gaze fixed itself on you now, pointing a finger as he gestured to Fíli. “But my nephew’s sacrifice today is enough to prove otherwise.”

“Uncle, what are you saying–”

“I will send word to Gandalf. I want him back here before the next full moon to discuss new terms. Y/N cannot stay here. Even you must realize this, Fíli.”

Your eyes widened as his words echoed in your mind. Today had already proven that you were not truly safe anywhere and Thorin’s words were enough to convince you that even Erebor wasn’t safe. You felt tears pooling in your eyes but you refused to let them fall. Not in front of Thorin. Not before the King.

“It is no longer safe for any of us to harbor you here,” his words cut through you as he stood tall and firm. I will grant you lodgings only until Gandalf has answered his summons. Until then, I am ordering you not to leave the city again. Perhaps we should even bar you in your own room to prevent it. For if you do leave, I won’t hesitate to take matters into my own hands.”

“And then what?” Fíli exclaimed, growing impatient as he fought for you. He had done so much of that today. “What will you have them do? Sleep on the streets, only to be killed?”

“Once Gandalf returns, their fate is no longer our concern.” Thorin spoke bluntly and despite how cold he was being to you, you knew his words came from the care he felt towards his people. How could you blame him? It wasn’t his fault you had brought him trouble. He was only doing what he thought was best for his people.

“Fíli, it’s alright,” you frowned, raising a hand to rest on his shoulder. “He’s right, it’s not safe for me to be here anymore.”

Fíli whipped his head around to face you, his deep blue eyes full of anger and worry. “And where will you be safe? If there are men in Dale after you, then there are men everywhere. You said so yourself; they’ve been tracking you.”

Thorin watched both of you, an unreadable expression in his eyes as he listened to his nephew’s words.

“Which means it’s only a matter of time before they realize I’m here,” you said. “I’m not safe here, Fíli. Gandalf will know what to do, he has to.”

You weren't sure if you even believed that. After all, Gandalf had been the one who said that Erebor was safe in the first place. But could you truly believe that anymore after the events of today?

Thorin turned back to return to his throne. “I’ve done enough to honor Erebor’s debt to Gandalf. You’re both dismissed; I shall send word for him immediately.”

“There is no need,” an elder voice boomed, shadows dancing around the room as none other than Gandalf stepped before you all. “I have already arrived.”

All three of you turned to the great stone doors of the hall where Gandalf stood with Kíli and Ori by his side.

“And I’m afraid that I bear ill news.”

You stood frozen before the King and the familiar wizard as you watched him enter the room hastily, his robes billowing behind him in an anxious manner as if the fabric had its own emotions. Eyes wide with a tear-stained face, your stomach dropped at the sight of the Grey One. It seemed in the span of a few hours, the life you had accustomed yourself with was crashing once again around you. It had already happened in Gondor and now history was repeating itself in Erebor.

Thorin’s earlier cold gaze was now warming up with an unknown fury as he eyed the wizard down. “How kind of you to show up at–”

“There is no time for games, Thorin Oakenshield.” Gandalf cut him off, his voice booming through the stone hall. There was something different about this Gandalf. What had once been an anxious urgency was now replaced with an air of clear-cut authority. He stood much taller and his brow was more furrowed in his glare sent to the King Under the Mountain.

It terrified you.

“I must speak with Y/N immediately,” he spoke, his eyes now fixated on your shaking form, the steely blue now softening as he made his way to you. “Alone.”

You cast an uneasy gaze at Thorin, who stood furious as all hell. He was quite upset with you and even more so at the gall of this intruder ordering him around. But nevertheless, he did his best to seem composed.

“Everyone, out.” His tone was clipped as his gaze cast fire at Gandalf. Only a moment of hesitation hung in the air before everyone quickly filed out.

Fíli cast an unreadable glance at you before leaving with Kíli and Ori. You desperately wanted him to stay.

It was just Gandalf and Thorin now, seemingly caught in a silent battle of steel and fire. With a short breath, Thorin finally left the hall.

Terrified, you two were now alone.

Quickly, Gandalf’s steely exterior melted into exhaustion and false mirth, eyes softening upon your frightened frame.

“Now Y/N…” His voice muttered. He didn’t know where to start. Even worse, he didn’t know how it would end.

“They found me today,” you admitted softly. It was important to tell him this. “Fíli took me to the market in Dale. I thought I’d be safe here.”

Gandalf stood silent now, allowing you your space as you tried holding back your tears. 

“I don’t know if I can keep living like this, Gandalf. They tied me up in the dark. Like cattle.” You bit your lip, the tears falling as you balled up your fists. You were angry now. It was all you could feel to prevent yourself from breaking down. “I was helpless in there, Gandalf. You said I would be safe here–”

“I said no such thing.” He was stern in everything but his gaze as his soft eyes bore into you. “Safety was never guaranteed.”

A heavy silence fell between you two, your breathing filling the hall as you thought about earlier. How your bindings had stung your wrists, which were certain to be bruised. How the rough fabric of your gag had felt like it was cutting into your skin. How your dying thoughts had been of Fíli.

You’d have to leave him now. There was no reason for you to stay here and it seemed highly unlikely Thorin would continue his generosity after the events of today.

“Where do I go from here?” You asked meekly. Your voice was cracked from a lack of water and the ache of your tears. You desperately needed a bath. You needed a plan even more.

Gandalf sighed. “I came to tell you news of your father.”

Your eyes immediately shot wide open. Your breath hitched for a moment, holding it in anticipation. “What news?”

“I’m afraid the situation in Gondor has only gotten worse.” He explained with a furrow of his brow. “Despite my attempts, the pieces are being placed against us.”

“What are you talking about?” You pressed, ignoring his metaphors.

“Your father has made the Steward aware of who holds this bounty over you. And against my better judgment, the Steward has issued a city-wide search to hunt him down. But I fear that from this, your father and the people of Minas Tirith are in grave danger.”

“But why? Who ordered the bounty?”

“A very old and well-known enemy of the Steward, I’m afraid. He refers to himself as Baldred the Bloody, and the Steward will stop at nothing to see this man’s end.” The wizard’s lip twitched as he spoke, clearly upset at the matter. “Your father was a fool for not keeping his secret.”

Your eyes widened as you realized what this meant for your family. If your father had truly been loaning money from one of the Steward’s most notorious adversaries, it would only spell treason and disgrace to your family name. It didn’t matter if your father and the Steward had known each other for over thirty years. None of the good deeds your father had helped would matter in the grand scheme of this treasonous act. And if the Steward was willing to go to such great lengths to kill this Baldred, there was no telling what would happen to your father.

“They’ll kill him,” you muttered. “Won’t they?”

Gandalf refused to answer, but his eyes told you more than enough. All you needed was a look to tell you your answer.

You fell to your knees, the news weighing down on your already heavy soul. Hadn’t your family already been through enough? Hadn’t you been through enough? 

It was no doubt that all of your father’s mistakes were caused by him alone; it was a trait you despised him for. You loathed how he cowered in his pride, even when it would bring him to his demise. 

But even so, you knew he didn’t deserve death.

“I don’t know how much time he has left. And Baldred will only continue to shed more blood if it means keeping himself hidden from the Steward.” He leaned down to your eye level now, an old and weathered hand resting on top of yours for comfort. But it did little to help.

“I can’t stay here, Gandalf.” You spoke. “I can’t bring Thorin any more trouble than I already have.”

“Whatever you choose to do,” he replied. “Know that you are not alone.”

You nodded, trying your best to believe it yourself. But you’d have to leave Fíli here. And who knows when you’d see Kíli or Ori again. Not to mention, Gandalf couldn’t show up conveniently every time you were in danger.

“Take me home, Gandalf.”

The dice had been cast. You had made up your mind. You would return home in the hopes of being able to help your father in some way. But you didn’t know how or when it would come about. Or most of all, if you would even make it in time.

Your future and the future of those you cared about was now in the hands of the fates. And you could only hope that you would survive to see it.

i feel like my shorter ones always perform better

@fizzyxcustard youve done it again!!!! The feelings, the frustration, THE HEART!! All so beautifully spoken!!

One Night.

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, sexual references, angst, heartbreak, insecurity.

Comments/Notes: From the imagine, "You spend the night with Thorin, and then out of insecurity, you leave him." Requested by @lathalea. Timeframe of post-BOTFA requested by @sotwk

I hope you like the fic. As always, like, reblog and comment if you enjoy. If you wish to be added to any of my tag lists, let me know.

Thorin was lay beside you, his breathing slow. You watched his chest rise and fall. His dark eyelashes fluttered and his eyes moved beneath their lids. He had fallen asleep not long after your final round of love making. 

You sighed. He was so beautiful, and didn’t even know it. 

The night had become full of tension, which had followed his coronation celebration. Of course you attended, being a close friend of the new king. For many months and you had travelled alongside him, helping and fighting for him to re-take the mountain kingdom of Erebor. Thorin had taken you aside, complimenting you on your attire for the celebration, his blue eyes alight for you. Your first kiss had been outside the main hall, in a cold, empty hallway. Everything else that had followed was back in his bed chamber. The two of you had snuck away, hand in hand, still stealing secret kisses along the hallways. 

Never before had you ever been touched in such a way as how Thorin touched you. His hot skin sent intense vibrations through you. His gaze made your heart thunder, and pulsate in other parts of your body, acknowledging just how aroused you were. His voice made sighs slip off your tongue so effortlessly. 

You kept your eyes on him as he slept, recollecting the beautiful memories of him opening his heart, soul and body to you. When he had first slipped inside you, he had been over you, his large hands holding your legs open. You had welcomed him so freely in those moments. However, in your second round of pleasure seeking, you had climbed on top of him. He was laid out beneath you, vulnerable, offering it all. Those hands had been clamped on your hips, guiding your movement as the two of you ascended higher towards that wonderful, earth shattering climax. The third and final time, Thorin had been behind you. His lips remained on your neck and shoulder, showing you that even when he could not see your face, he still adored you and admired your beauty. 

This was all wrong. Thorin was the most amazing man you had ever met. And you were just mediocre. Nothing special or of substantial value. You looked upon his sleeping form, studying his slim lips which peeped from beneath his moustache. His beard was neatly trimmed, despite him now growing it longer after reclaiming Erebor. That was a promise he had made many years ago. Once the mountain was re-claimed and he would grow his beard back long, as was custom with the Longbeard Dwarves. 

Slowly, and you slipped out of bed. There was an ache in your chest. You loved Thorin so much more than you could ever express, but you were not worthy of his hand. A royal Dwarf deserved someone of standing and position, not a commoner like yourself. 

Tears fell down your cheeks, reminding you of the man you were originally pledged to many years ago. He had told you he loved you, showered you with gifts, but made it known through his behaviour that you meant very little to him. His actions did not speak louder than his words. And, of course, his attention then swept elsewhere. Thorin would no doubt do the same. Such a beautiful soul would never cherish you and mean it! If this man from your past could not love you, then surely Thorin couldn’t either. 

But you had never been touched, kissed and made love to in such a way as that! Every movement made you quake beneath Thorin’s touch, and his whispers of adoration made you shiver. Maybe he just knew how to please women and had rehearsed the words many times. 

You re-dressed and slipped out of the chamber, giving Thorin one last glance. The ache hit you hard once again and you placed your hand on your mouth, stifling the uncontrollable sobs. 

The halls were quiet and dark, with only the faint light of torchlight guiding your way. And by the time you made it back to your room, you grabbed a quill, ink and parchment. Your hand shook as you tried to write, which meant that your normally laced handwriting became more squiggled. A tear fell onto the parchment, splashing, and caused a swirl of black ink to form under your signature. 

***

Thorin woke, his eyes adjusting to the dark room. He looked up at the ceiling of the room and sighed, recollecting the evening before. And as soon as he saw your face in his mind’s eye, he turned to see you had disappeared. He called your name into the gloom. 

A dread hit him and his stomach twisted into a hard knot. Something was wrong. 

Why would you disappear like this? Even though you could have just slipped back to your own bed chamber, Thorin felt something in the depth of his very being that told him that he would not find you there. 

Thorin pulled on a robe, tying it at his waist, and made his way to your room, his mind full of questions. He didn’t even knock as he got to your door and let himself in, finding the room empty. A lump swelled in his throat. He approached your desk. A candle had been lit, and there under the flickering light, was a piece of parchment. 

My dearest Thorin, 

I cannot remain here. I do not belong. I will never be enough for you, my love. Go and find happiness. May Mahal bless you. 

The letter was simple. 

Thorin crumpled the letter in his hands, feeling a whole array of emotion wash over him. Terror and frustration seemed to form the knot in his stomach, which was now gaining momentum. Only the night before and Thorin had been on the verge of offering everything to you, a life together. That was all Thorin wanted. You, in every way. He thought that you had been willing to give yourself to him. You had even told him you loved him, shivered at his touch, become undone beneath him. The two of you had panted, sweat, groaned against each other. How could he just let all of that go? 

He would not let you go. 

He could not. 

***

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