Majestic Thorin - Tumblr Posts

Erebor is your Rome

Pairing: Thorin x Tessa (Modern OC)

Words: 3,028

Ratings: Gen Audience

Warnings: none

A/N: Hello Tumblr! Here's the first of my headcanons that finally took written form~ only 8 years in the making... no time like the present, right?? This one-shot is an intro to Tessa DeVon, her delightful bond with the Dwarf King, and a snapshot of their story in-the-making.

Summary: While Thorin Oakenshield sets to work bringing some semblance of order to rebuilding Erebor, he's not invincible. He gathers his wits a moment and takes a spell in his inner chambers -the door still-ajar - just the invitation for the Company's Unexpected Darling to come have a chat and offer one of her trademark pep talks; as best as a millennial can manage. After making her mark in Middle Earth after taking a Journey with them like no other, life under the Mountain is a learning curve for all.

New to Erebor, sure, but Tessa's full of wisdom in her own right.. and perhaps that's all Thorin needs.

Read on AO3

Just past the hour, Tessa entered the open door and paused at the tension seeping around her. Around the great table in the center rose the heated points of each of the visiting heads-of-house. Their words laced in Khuzdul bounced off the aged, carved walls up to the ceiling.

She cast an unspoken question with lifted, worried brows- just a quick once over to each of the dwarf lords (all of whom paid no attention to her arrival), once to their newly instated King (she noted, with a less than subtle appreciation of today’s choice of vest), then to Balin, to see if she should clear out.

Thorin muttered something in confidence to Balin over his left shoulder, then strode towards his study with a long, rough sigh. Then an announcement later, Balin shooed the others out of the chambers straight away.

Tessa flowed with the exiting movement, favoring the near side of the door to see everyone out, planning to leave last. Chin tipped up to acknowledge each as they passed, Tessa stayed at the threshold until her dear friend reached her side -only to be stopped by the arm when she turned to follow suit–

“Not you, dear,” Balin said, were it so obvious by his laugh, “You’re the one he needs right now.”

So here Tessa remained- the only soul left in the once chaotic room, per Balin’s excusal.

The order– didn’t apply to her?

Although Tessa wasn't sure if it actually didn’t pertain to her or if Balin was simply trying to meddle with the rules for Thorin’s sake, the woman remained in the doorway with her thoughts. Tossing away the time for second guessing, Tessa simply entered further: after Thorin.

Closing the heavy oaken door behind her, the empty King’s study felt smaller than it looked. Surely this was due to the stark quiet in here compared to the room she’d just left. The office sat nearly untouched in these past few decades, save for the workable space of the green-veined stone worktable- once home to Thror’s entire docket of business back in Erebor’s high Age. Its spread was filled with business again of another caliber- one that rests in his grandson’s hands: to bring to glory everything that had been dormant under the Mountain’s years of abandonment and decay.

Thorin sat. looking every bit as miffed as he looked when he left– not in the regal chair of the table’s head, but in a simple attendee’s seat, with barely any cushion to speak of. Sunken arms of the dwarf King propped upon open knees in the posture hardly fitting of someone of this station.

Tessa learned through observation early on; Thorin often pushed his chair sideways when taking an audience, to catch the sunlight rather than have his back to it. Its warmth and brightness was likely something he missed, but never confessed so. Though now, even at its afternoon peak, the streaks of shine gave no joy like they usually did.

A bare rap of knocking against the threshold’s grain made to alert him of someone’s presence. Thorin glanced at the hollow sound but didn’t speak. It registered when he looked up to her that Balin was right; Thorin sunk in relief again, letting down knowing his audience had finally left.

Reading a downcast face was Tessa’s innate specialty; so was the role she took as the token ‘mom friend’ in her university days. But breaching the topics behind such frustration as Thorin showed – especially regarding those of complex, ‘dwarven matters’– was not something she was familiar with. How could she, really; her experience with dwarves as an outsider was decidedly short, no matter how much they immersed her into their comings and goings. This would be her curse even should she stay for the next hundred years– she’d never know Middle Earth as well as her friends here; even now as she called it her home.

For his sanity, Tessa risked the walk. Resolved to be there to listen, if nothing else.

That softened feeling in her sought Thorin’s side, close to the desk… toeing the line close enough to the edge of the armrest– within his reach, if he wanted.

“Hey, you.” Tessa spoke life into the room by voice alone.

The dwarves’ King looked lost, studying the end of Tessa’s dress with focused effort.

“They are evenly split,” Thorin inferred the council’s ‘determination’. “After sixty years of poverty and loss, they cannot make a single, unanimous ‘aye’ for the life of me…”

So, the talks were not going well. This had to be discouraging. Considering the impromptu committee had planned to convene long before lunch– and it was now past noon...

“It’s a complete state of friction, no cooperation.” Thorin spoke his mind, “Have you been here all this time?”

“No,” Tessa chimed back pitifully, “Finished inventory in the Northwest Hall from yesterday. Just thought I’d check in, see how things were going.”

“You’ve caught us in a recess, then,” he sighed.

Tessa firmed her lips, listening.

“Nothing new, this.” He gestured to the plans before him- notes and scraps more than outlines and ledgers, “--the prospect of re-imagining Erebor, life within the mountain: this is a rare chance to start things over. A thing of purpose, of destiny. My grandfather kept such meetings close to the chest, and even closer like minds. I always thought more could be done, saw potential we never had the chance to build. Silly me, I opened the floor for our extended kin to ‘speak freely’. I never imagined such stubborn minds would greet us after so much time away.”

Non-stubborn dwarves?... That concept sounded nigh impossible. By definition, dwarves were hard-headed– even Tessa’s fairy tales depicted them that way.

“I’m no expert, but I’m not sure those two words can exist in the same sentence, hon.”

“I cannot argue that.” Thorin ceded. “But even so, this opportunity should lend itself perfectly to our kind, Tessa. To utilize talents of all kinds and trades… Would the noble houses not defer to each other? Ones who have worked in such conditions, who’ve accomplished projects of this scope? Have we become so set in our ways, scattered across the land of Men… We have carpenters here; smiths, masons- all at the ready- to understand even the-…” he spat and mumbled through a stiffened jaw.

At the arm of his seat, Tessa settled in to hear out his concerns. She flipped her palm upward in an offer. His stern eyes fluttered at the gesture, then softened at the sight, bound to accept it.

Falling into their habit of touch- the tender thing neither spoke of- Thorin’s giant thumb took its job to rub the top,

“I swear, whatever this Mountain’s so-called King imagined to be a uniting task, has made him a bloody fool.”

“Thorin-...”

Tessa stopped that negative-self talk in its tracks. A sweet smile graced Tessa’s lips as she said so, disagreeing with any talk that put Thorin in a bad light… even if such words came from his own mouth.

A dark memory turned to a reserved calm behind his eyes and his tone,

“Smithing in Ered Luin was tiring, backbreaking work… but what I might give to return to a job that was honest. Provided enough to meet needs. I can assure you, it didn't drive me to quarreling madness…” Thorin studied the softened fingers in his grasp.

This quiet moment from him: vulnerability at its finest. Thorin’s gaze fell back to the hands encasing his with a level breath,

“I know I should be patient,” even through temper, he could anticipate Tessa’s faithful answers, “but a room stuffed to the gills with dissent and conflict– nonstop– for half a day’s working hours, I cannot help but remember… this is not the life I envisioned for you.”

The release of his name left Tessa’s chest again, leaving no choice but to close the gap between his legs. Pure empathy brought her hand from his to clasp Thorin’s shoulder and bring the entire torso of the hero before her into her waiting embrace. Following the flow of her movements, Thorin found himself slumping to press his forehead into her stomach.

Unseen by his Council, his mind spun– past and present pressure warring. Now, he sought her for grounding with naught but a hand to her waist. If she could just numb him long enough to rest the growing throb in his temples…

With that gentle press of her hand onto the back of his head, perhaps she could.

“Well, Thorin,” Tessa lightened, “I didn’t really have a plan prior to my deciding to stay here. I had no vision to be crushed, so you’re hardly disappointing me.”

A chuff of warm air flared through a certain dwarf’s nose from his hiding spot.

“I mean, this is a huge step up from squirrel stew and the canvas sleeping mats.” she teased, the memories flickered in the mind like the lanterns along the walls. “Not that those things didn’t have their charm! But I can’t say a girl like me wouldn’t love the velvet getups and shiny bits that came with settling down in a place like this... You didn’t even need to do that much, Your Highly Majestic-ness. Consider me ‘right spoiled’~.”

Naturally, a displeased grunt masked his amused smirk. “You know my meaning, lass…”

Tessa chuckled. Grumpy dwarf. If she could lift his spirits first, then the head would follow.

“We have a saying where I’m from:” Tessa offered in this quiet moment, “-‘Rome wasn’t built in a day.’-”

Thorin hummed again, peppered with interest this time.

“I didn’t ever have a chance to go abroad to see it in person- much less see the city in its heyday; it sat clear on the far side of the world. The whole country is shaped like a boot, it’s a peninsula with water all around it. But it’s a place we all learned about in our studies.” Tessa set the scene as simply as she could manage in a few refrains, “Rome was the birthplace of arguably the greatest empire in my world’s history- host of all sorts of things; how we made multi-lane roads, waterworks, even how we perform life-saving surgeries. Things like music and sculptures too– gosh, so much art, you wouldn’t believe… If you looked back on it, models from the Roman Empire grew over time into the way we do things today.”

The draw of Thorin’s waves tempted Tessa’s fingers, but she didn't feel like crossing that line just yet- it’s a private one, and a very serious matter, Balin says.

“But I think it’s safe to say,” Tessa swayed a little in her step, “Given the scope of this place, this world, everything you’ve told me you remember about growing up here… What this mountain meant for the North all those years ago? Erebor is your Rome.”

… Forehead still pressed to her sternum, Thorin’s head cocked.

“You say Erebor was a marvel- is a marvel-” Tessa corrected herself, taking a few stray fingers atop the runs of silver through her King’s hair. “Anyone can say they can imagine something great, think they know how to tackle something huge, all by themselves– but the second they’d try and fail on the first go, they’d write it off. Call the challenge something that’s too far gone. For such a great place, there has to be a great vision; and I’d bet on anything that you have that vision.”

Tessa trailed off just as she mapped his waves. Something about Thorin not looking at her directly made her more brave.

It’s those eyes of his, she mused, makes my brain turn to mush. Maybe it’s better this way; he needs to hear this, and I’d never get the nerve to tell him staring at me with those baby blues.

“You can’t help but see the potential, because you remember it at its height. To know what Erebor was, but also what it needs to be, now. It’s a different time, different age now- just like you said. It only makes sense that it’s what’s freshest in your mind coming back home, tattered as it is right now. And in the interim, you’ve lived in such a variety of places, so you’ve been inspired to grow. Bringing in the things you know and make it even greater.”

This seemed to strike a cord. Thorin tilted his head fully, looking askance yet comfortable in his spot to think.

“Any city can be great, sure. You can rebuild Erebor just like any other king before you. That being said, I know something else for a fact, too.”

The edge of hair hiding Thorin’s eyes begged to be pushed back,

“Given the state we’re all in, there’s no doubt this place needs more than a fair share of elbow grease. But I’ll promise you this…There’s something more to be said of the man who refuses to give up on it. And even more–”

A tip of the chin up, Tessa turned Thorin’s jaw up.

“--building his mind and heart up in a healthy place while he works at what he’s after? That means more to me than anything else. More than how many studded halls or linens or comforts he can give, or how fast it goes up. That’ll all come back to the mountain in droves… I only have one you. So when you wanna call a recess, you call the recess.”

A contented sigh left him. While the sound proved enough that he seemed happier to have been consoled, Tessa missed the ghost of a smirk that accompanied it.

With another hand passing over the divide of his (unfairly beautiful) part, the Company’s resident darling pivoted,

“How are you sleeping?” Tessa asked.

“I’m exhausted.” the deep whisper answered.

“Did you eat today?”

A pause, “...Not as much as you might like to see.”

Tessa bit the urge to scold back. He had the decency to look guilty about the negligence, after all.

“Then there's a good place to start.” Thorin earned himself a little backscratch, “The body is a forge- it needs fuel to light it. A good supper can sustain it enough to carry light for hours, even well into the night if needed.”

Thorin nuzzled against her -a nod, more like. This position caused muffling of his usually crisp-cut words into her waistcoat.

“You could pass as a dwarrowdam with talk like that.”

“I’m picking up some new metaphors,” the pride fluttered in her voice. “Is it working?”

“You are helping my mood, and you’re endlessly amusing…” Thorin caressed her hip, unable to stave off the smile.

Tessa quirked her lip, perched atop his head. “The accent needs work.”

“Hah- I’ll say.”

An aire in her laugh, Tessa knelt to meet his eyes.

God, he looks tired, yet now he seemed not so miserable than at the start.

“You know, I really would have liked to have known you sooner…” Tessa leaned onto his lap- “To have watched you spend time as a king already, way before this whole getup…”

“Sweet as you are–” Thorin hushed the sentiment, not unkindly, “I was hardly a king of old during our people’s time in exile. I guarantee you, you’d have been sorely underwhelmed by the name of ‘Durin’…”

“You led in the ways that mattered.”

“Out of Balin’s mouth to yours..” Thorin gave a playful wrench under Tessa’s chin.

Tessa shook it off with a smile of her own. The Company formed to bolster Thorin Oakenshield was not something to be overlooked,

“Well, he wasn’t wrong. Providing a way of life? In so many cities, for as many as were dependent on you? You amaze me already; how easy you make it look. ‘N even when it’s hard, you’re not above calling those you trust to help you. You made sure to keep a reliable circle close.”

In her comfort, Tessa barely registered– she’d sunk into Thorin’s hand as he held her cheek, adoring her.

“These are all the marks of a truly good man, to me– not a fool in the slightest. With a mind like yours and a work ethic to back it up, that’s how I know you can do this.”

Finally– a prized crinkle graced beside the dwarf’s eye. What a well-won smile. The reward for all Tessa’s doting: easily her favorite sight in all of Middle Earth.

“At the same time,” she brought herself back to the present- not ogling him, mind you– “I know it’s easy for me to say, I’m on the outside. I know it’s harder in your position… and that's why I want to be here for you ok? With proper care, that patience you need will follow. And the ‘impasses you need like a hole in the head’ will fade away. Bit by bit, under your hand.”

Thorin tested the idea again: “ ‘Rome wasn’t built in a day’.”

“Sure wasn’t,” Tessa promised. “Just brick by brick.”

Thorin set a kind look back, drawing Tessa in by her jaw to grant her brow bone a kiss and met her forehead.

The last time Tessa gave a glorified TED Talk to the financial minds in the newly renovated Treasury, Thorin had been awestruck to the point where he didn’t even hide his sidebar with Bilbo: ‘What a queen she’ll make, Master Baggins’ he’d said. This touch spoke just as much as that moment, weeks before.

And to be true, his mind was indeed more sound now thanks to her, like rain washed over a steaming batch of coals to a bearable temperature.

“Care to share any expert opinions on how this Rome was built?” Thorin murmured into the space between them. “Any trade secrets your world would not mind you parting?”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly there 1800-something years ago to see it. But I’m pretty sure it all started with getting a decent meal in the Emperor’s stomach before lifting a finger on any ordinance.” Tessa rose to pull him up to height. “Even I find a snack does wonders before picking fights with assholes at the council table, that’s for sure~.”

What should have happened:

(Bilbo sees each head pop out)

//walks down the line//

(boops each snoot)

hi thorin

On the doorstep

My precious,

The pride of mine whispers I should deem myself worthy of your love, but I cannot. None of the treasures that I own I prize enough to say: “These things can buy her”. And what I am – what I have always been - deserves no trust from someone as you are. And nonetheless, I offer all of it to you. All my possessions, all my passion, my every breath. Name your price, and you will hear no protest or reproach from me. Or if you want no trade, just gift me with the chance to make you happy. I’ll see to it that you do not regret it.

With hope,

Thorin.  

My lovely Royal Highness, the pleasure is all mine for the chance at your company!! May the road be easy and burdens light for you today, Thorin-- till next we meet 💗💗💗

What a special gift this message was to read 💞💞💞 Nothing but love (and all the virtual hugs) for you!

A Scar and its Story

Pairing: Thorin x Tessa (Modern OC)

Words: 1,836

Ratings: Teen & Up

Warnings: (TW: for descriptions of face scarring, just in case)

Summary: She could only liken this feeling to a few things: and not many of those were things any soul here in Middle Earth could understand. Anyone who’s ever been in a car accident has trouble getting behind the wheel for the first few times, right? ‘Well, anyone except for Thorin if he knew how to drive. He’s not scared of anything.' This line of thinking got Tessa through watching each of her Dwarven friends heal. But the whiplash, the pains the mind and body remembers, and especially its scars… those seemed hard for her to forget-- even as she looks at Thorin's face and its new story to tell.

A/N: As if Thorin could ever be anything but beautiful in her eyes... Tessa still worries over the scar Thorin has- and what it reminds her of. Set after the events of 'Better Angels' if you've not yet checked it out! Not required, but fun to enjoy sequentially. Thank you for the likes and comments for my OC already! Tessa and Thorin send their love~

Read on AO3

Tessa really tries not to, but her eye drifts to the scar on Thorin’s forehead. 

Following Dwalin to the infirmary she'd gone pale and showed a worried eye in front of the healers that she couldn't hide in time. Based on how bloody it had been– seeing the King unconscious when she first gone to see him after the Battle- the worry from all sides was understandable. Everyone was concerned for him, chiefly his nephews. Though in her mind, the sight of all of her dearest friends in pain hurt Tessa for far longer than the few weeks for their war wounds to settle into scars.

It's hard not to remember that day; even as lovely as it was to be honest about her feelings for him... Things were still fragile, tender, and it was growing into something more each day. Thorin carried on so beautifully; regally, and in perfect stride once he could walk again.

And she’s never said a word on it; perhaps to her detriment. Maybe that's why it's still hard to speak of it.

The only time Thorin himself mentioned looking this way in recovery was when he assured her, 

'Dwarves wear their scars as leopards their spots. I was bound to earn some of my own, one day.' 

Thorin does say it like a thing of pride. When others hearken to it, their joshing praises gives him a devilish quirk of his now split brow, knowing it as a loud and proud claim ‘he won’.

…but that very fact is what flitters around– unsettled in her stomach. For Tessa? She knows it as a sign of just how close she was to losing him . Time and some emotional distance away from the Battle brought her to push those thoughts far from her mind for a while.

But that changed today.

"Have I misplaced soot on my face?" Thorin asks, bemused.

Thorin caught her staring and she was nearly too shy to admit it,

"Oh, no!" Tessa gently brushes his coat lapel back, along with his hair in a corralling gesture. "It's just--" 

Tessa stopped herself, and lied. 

"-- I'm just happy to see you."

To see you. To be seeing you, everyday. 

A month ago, that hope of seeing Thorin Oakenshield alive and well had been stamped to near-embers. 

"It's my joy to see you, too~" Thorin takes her hand to kiss it; yet she avoids looking while he does so. "... Though, I think that look in your eye is far from joyful." 

A guilty pang caused Tessa to force a smile onto her face, 

"Gosh.. I didn't mean to worry you."

In a moment, she turns self conscious which Thorin reads, too– he clue? She stopped walking. 

Thorin is seeking some sort of answer as he watches for her next words. The way he looks at her so intently– fishing for some reason why she’s hedging away from him when she’s done nothing but look for a way to stick by his side over the past weeks, relearning the Mountain together… 

Tessa knows this change of character must look odd to someone like him. She hated this feeling.

Thorin noticed her flit a glance to the hall behind him; with a tip of his head to block her view, he redirects in her line of sight. Right back to him.

"We have time, Sanâzyun.” Thorin eases with those happy high brows, “What troubles you?" 

Honesty it is … 

Steeling her nerve and pulling up all the calm she can offer, Tessa squared up to Thorin for closeness. Confident enough they weren’t going to have an audience around… she braved the chance and held onto his hand.

"Everyone sees this as a warning:” Tessa combed back Thorin’s part with a few fingers; only light enough for a quick touch, “-A less-than-gentle reminder, should anyone dare try to test a king so great as you. As they should, obviously . No matter who you ask, the sight of a new scar is the same; they see it as a badge of honor.”

Tessa swallowed her hidden truth, thick in her mouth. 

“But…I catch it in the light sometimes, too. And I'm afraid I don’t see it that way. All I can see is… well… how close I was to never–"

See you again – Tessa buries the thought, burns it. That’s certainly something she can't say out loud without crying. 

"--It's my saving grace," she recovers gently, "-whenever I look at you. I remember that shit-show of a day, and that, to see you with it now means we got to the other side. But it doesn’t really– I don’t know–” Tessa floundered, “I know that should be a good thing- is a good thing! I should just celebrate it with everyone else! Hindsight 'should' give us comfort, right?... 

Thorin glanced to their joined hands, then back up to Tessa with a look- between confusion and pity and that look of desperation when he tried to follow along with her rabbit trails.

Tessa could only liken this feeling to a few things: and not many of those were things anyone in Middle Earth could understand. Anyone who’s ever been in a car accident has trouble getting behind the wheel for the first few times, right? ‘Well, anyone except for Thorin if he knew how to drive. He’s not scared of anything,’ Tessa thought. 

Knowing the analogy would be fruitless, Tessa just shook her head, sighing her own insecurity away.

"After all the time y’all spent getting here, it was hard seeing you like that, after fighting. Close calls scare me, Thorin. Especially when it comes to you."

 " My… ” Thorin ponders this. “The mark– it pains you?

 Tessa’s lip quirks. Not necessarily, but what she does feel strikes a chord of longing.

 "Pain's a strong word.” Tessa confides, “--but, close enough." 

No one was in earshot, but still she glanced about for any prying eyes.

His face is deadly serious, likely feeling he missed something gravely important.

"I did not know you felt this way..."

"Because it's silly! And selfish– so of course, I never brought it up."

Thorin’s hand tightened on hers,

 "You are not selfish."

"I mean over voicing any fussing over it.” A hand refreshed her own part while she kept her pm interlocked with his, “I figured saying anything comes off as vain, which isn't my issue at all with it. Yours is the one opinion who matters, not mine.”

'Its not like you could ever be less beautiful to me…'

Despite her fighting it against the memories of a bleeding and gashed Thorin, mist flooded Tessa’s eyes– even through her light laugh. 

Thorin called her by name, “Look at me, please.”

She sniffs back and meets his eyes again. Squared up to her again, Thorin came to hold her hands in both of his.

“You know I don’t give a single care what I may look like…” The dwarf shared with low comfort in his voice, as he confided to her just the same as he would a dear friend, “Even if I were left completely marred after The Ice, I would do nothing but speak of it; and show my grateful heart to anyone who will hear, for my second chance to live . Truly live. To lead the dwarrow who saw me through the darkness I faced to a better life. And be happy I’m alive at all…”

But as he continued to reason with what she just told him, Thorin processed her different, caring point of view,

“You say you are glad enough for this, and– for that I’m touched, but please know...the scar I carry means more to my people than just a reminder of a foul fight. And even more to me.”

Thorin brushes her eyes of the emotion at bay, watching her settle into a look transfixed on him. 

"Not a day passes... that I don't thank Mahal for honoring my wish on Ravenhill."

Tessa couldn't trust her voice’s watery delivery, but had to ask…

"What wish was that?" 

"To live past the morning light. So that I may tell those I care for, the things I'd not said before..." 

"And what things are those?" 

And with the unspoken circling the air between them -under the staggered placement of blue-flaming lanterns of the upper thoroughfare they stood upon, Thorin cups Tessa’s cheek– and draws her into a hug speaking directly to her ear.

"That you are not selfish , Tessa. You've not the bone in your body. " 

In turn, Tessa squeezes into his arms, and sinks.

Away from Thorin's gaze in the nest of his hair, the most fanciful of thoughts screamed in Tessa's mind, begging to be let out. To sort them out, she simply closed her eyes. 

Perhaps it was the cheesiest, romantic thing she'd ever thought to say, but something told her the men of this world wouldn't mind. Middle Earth is a place of the greatest folklore, but surely they had their own children's stories, too. And perhaps they didn't glorify these small marks as the testaments of their greatness, but maybe to show just how much he means to her, Tessa can try her hardest to relate to Erebor's people– to tell of the pride she has in her King...

"Thorin?"

"Yes."

Tessa swallowed her nerve,

"You-- know you're the stuff of fairy tales, right? You have to know that."

Thorin remained quiet- maybe puzzled more than anything. Inside, the tremor in Tessa’s chest was only stilled by the fact her dwarf still held her close. His head had turned, perhaps waiting for her to explain.

So, still locked in Thorin’s arms, Tessa turned in and released her guts to him: wedged by that soft point next to his ear, careful of her volume.

"Balin said," Tessa had to smile, "the stories are already going around about you: 'only a matter of time before it's set to song', like all the famous living legends are. I know you'll probably hate me saying this... but I do agree with him.

"I grew up with fairy tales too, dozens upon dozens of them– I haven't even told you them all, yet... But I think yours is the greatest one I've ever heard.” 

At her words, Thorin’s paused the sway he'd set them in. Surprised, to the point of heartache.

Tessa smirked, and threw light into her voice before she could risk looking him in the eye:

“N'who gets to say they've seen their hero save the day with their own eyes?" Tessa buried a bit into his hair, " Much less get the greatest hugs they've ever had in their life from them…"

A huff of something sweet and shy passed Tessa’s sapphire-stitched shoulder, then she heard the King’s voice just as gentle turn to talk into her ear,

"Your victor, am I?"

A short, affirmative hum.

"The Mountain's.. or truly yours?"

The massive smith’s hand came to curl her waist into him; but Tessa answered fairly,

"I guess I do have to share you ..."

Thorin's answer, practically purred by her ear, " No, you don't ."

Tessa smiled… but one that mellowed when she felt his lips caress her temple, at the same part where he himself now bore a split in the skin,

"As it happens,” Thorin teased beside her, “-you are mine, as well ."

Oh goodness what a joy to read this one!!

The Task of Living (Thorin x Reader one-shot)

Love Confession feat. Thorin Oakenshield 

Valentine 2023 Event by @sotwk

Summary: Two years after his triumphant reclamation of Erebor, Thorin returns to his former village in Dunland, seeking the woman he has loved since long ago.

Prompt: “You have to come back to me. Because I cannot do this without you.”

Requested by and Dedicated to: @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady. Thank you for the request, the follow, and for letting me do a little something to help you feel better! This definitely turned out longer and more detailed than I had planned, so I hope it brings you some joy and comfort! <3

Word count: 2.4 k

Content: Romance, angst, drama, fierce dwarf-maiden, Everybody Lives AU, post-BotFA, King Thorin

Rating: T (Teens and up)

Warnings: Some sensuality

To Read on AOC: Link

Divider credit: @firefly-graphics

The Task of Living

Third Age 2943

Dunland

“Is she… is she yours?” 

You smoothed a hand over the unbraided chestnut curls of the dwarf-child on your lap and shook your head. "My sister's. You probably don’t remember her."

His coal-black eyebrows knitted together, but only for a second. "Rith," he spoke her name with a triumphant little smirk that made you itch with a desire to smack it off his face. He set down his tankard of mulled ale on the table and leaned forward, the rickety old chair creaking underneath this small movement. “And how is she?”

“She is dead,” you said flatly, enjoying the flinch that wrinkled his perfect features. “Killed in an orc raid on the village six years ago, she and her husband both.” You gave your niece a quick hug and set her down, patting her lightly on the back. “Why don’t you go and help your Grandmother with the stew?”

“She needn’t have bothered, truly.” His keen blue eyes scanned the single-room cottage that presently housed three women across three generations. Although his gaze seemed mostly curious, his interest suddenly made you feel embarrassed about the dwelling’s small size and worn-out shabbiness.

“Of course she had to,” you hissed, rising abruptly from your chair. “What else are we expected to do when a king shows up at our doorstep, with no forewarning, but to scramble to pay respects and offer up what little provisions we have?” 

Thorin rose to his feet, slowly, as though a dreadful weight burdened his stooped shoulders. Still, he towered over you, his regal demeanor undeniable despite his obvious attempts to dress in simple garb, with no raiment upon him other than the ancestral crown on his head. 

“A caravan is on its way here,” he said. “Two dozen wagons loaded with enough food and supplies for a year. Enough for this whole village and its neighbors. It should arrive in a few days. The cargoes are heavy and the roads are troublesome. I decided to ride ahead with my guard because…” He faltered, but took a breath and pressed on. “...because I could not wait to see you.”

Oh no. You backed up a step, subconsciously resisting the allure of his presence, the implication of his words. Before you could turn away, he spoke again, “Perhaps we might move this conversation outside. There is still light out; we can take a short walk.”

Perhaps it would be easier to breathe and keep a clear head outdoors with all the fresh air. As you exited the cottage, you felt Thorin’s hand cup lightly around your elbow, in a courteous gesture to help you down the steps. You jerked your arm away, irritated by the silly nicety reserved for soft, high-society ladies who likely kept his company now.

In the corner of your eye, you spotted several armored soldiers by the sheep pen, tending to their ponies. You marched on in the direction of the little brook that bordered your property, determinedly and defiantly, leaving Thorin to hasten his steps to keep up.

“If I may say so, you look well--” 

You stopped and spun around without warning. "Why are you here, Thorin?” You grimaced and corrected yourself. “Pardon me. Why are you here, your Majesty?”

“Thorin,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “You need not be so formal with me, not after so many years of friendship between us.”

Friendship. That word could not have burned you worse than a glowing hot iron straight out of the furnace. And suddenly it was thirty-five years ago, when you stood before each other in similar surroundings all the way in the shadows of the Blue Mountains, and Thorin told you with utmost conviction, that he could not accept your marriage proposal. 

And you exploded. All the grief and pain and anger that you had shored up behind a wall inside your heart flowed like fiery lava on the slopes of an awakened volcano. 

“Are you trying to hurt me?!” you cried. “Is that why you have come? Now that you have accomplished your great destiny to regain your throne, you thought it might amuse you to return to your former haunts and toy with the commoners you used to dwell amongst? Are you already so weary and bored of counting all the gold in the great Kingdom Under the Mountain?”

Thorin squared his shoulders and set his jaw against the accusations, incorrigibly stubborn as you had always known him to be. “I came to help. Both you and your kin.” He gestured at the house behind them, and the others beyond. “This land was also my home once.”

“It has not been your home for a very long time, Thorin.” You wrapped your arms across your chest, whether to shield yourself from the winter chill or from the dwarf who had shattered you irreparably, you weren’t certain. “Allow me to refresh the King’s memory since it has been so long: you abandoned it for the Blue Mountains. I was there. I left my own family and moved across Eriador to follow yours. But a humble life at the Lune would not satisfy you either, and you refused to settle and put down roots.”

At least not with me. You swiped at the corners of your eyes, furious at the tears that wouldn’t stop their descent. "You should not have come back here. We will manage well enough without Erebor's charity."

The old Thorin might have exchanged your rejection with biting words of his own; such was the pride that ran through the Durins' veins. But the face of the dwarf-lord before you softened as he continued.

"I came for you. To tell you I have not forgotten everything we shared together." The tone of his voice had changed; it cracked with desperation, pleading with you to accept his declarations. And then he uttered your name, and hearing it on his lips roused an ache inside you that was too much to bear. 

You started walking again, stomping over the thick snow, following the line of naked trees along the frozen brook. He kept up with you in determined strides, raising his voice to a near shout as his passion grew.

"I have thought of you every day since we parted. Every memory I had of you, I kept close, even though it burned me as often as it kept me warm, because I refused to surrender hope that this day would come for us."

You shook your head wildly and pressed your hands over your ears, as though these gestures would be enough to make him stop. 

“Amrâlimê, please...”

"Do. NOT. Call me that!"

You whirled around and punched him, slamming your fist into his chest, stopped by a wall of thick leather and muscle. While you considered yourself strong for your race, your strength fell short against a Durin. Thorin did not budge an inch, or even wince. Perhaps your predictable temper was the part of you least easily forgotten. So you hit him again. And again. Until you were pounding both fists repeatedly against his torso, his shoulders, his arms, anywhere you thought you could get him to feel just a small fraction of the agony he had put you through for over thirty years. Still Thorin refused to move or throw up any kind of self-defense. 

How dare he! How dare he address you as such, in the tender manner that haunted you for decades even after you left the Blue Mountains to escape the unbearable sight of him. The precious endearment he would whisper into your ear on occasions of stolen intimacy, sigh into your hair in moments of peaceful contentment, moan against your skin whenever he made love to you.

Through your rage, you sensed the guards approaching to rescue their lord, and instinct prepared you to turn around and fight back like a cornered animal. But Thorin raised his hand at them in a signal to halt, and he finally reached out to catch your flailing wrists, easily ending your assault.

"I love you. As Mahal is my witness, my heart has ever belonged to you alone." He encased your hands tightly within his and held them against his chest, tugging you to him. "And you love me still, I can see it, however wretchedly undeserving I am."

You could not even think of struggling. It was too late. He was too close now, close enough for you to feel how real he was--his piercing eyes, his strong, calloused hands, the scent of smoke and steel that clung to the very hairs of his warm skin. These were not just a fantasy conjured by delirious longing, or a dream from the nights you cried in your sleep. Thorin was here. Alive and well, and here. 

“I am truly sorry for all the pain I have caused you. Forgive me, Amrâlimê,” he murmured hoarsely, tracing the curve of your bottom lip with his thumb, sweeping down the softness of your jaw. “If I can have nothing else from you, I beg you to grant me that last kindness.”

That single moment of exposed vulnerability, of breathtaking sorrow and regret that radiated from him, reached you more than any of his expressions of passion. How much have the years changed him? The Thorin you knew could never bear to admit he was wrong about anything. Was it possible that rising to his kingship finally taught him humility? 

“You have my forgiveness.” As you spoke this pardon, the remaining flames of your anger blew out to nothingness.

And Thorin smiled, his sweet, gentle smile, rare as the most precious gem but many times as beautiful. Your own smile felt like it would break your cheeks. He pulled you into his embrace and you sobbed into his neck, wondering if it was possible to die of happiness. 

Drawing back, Thorin cradled your face between his hands, smoothing your tear-streaked cheeks, and rested his forehead on yours. “May I…?” Your breaths mingled in the soft whisper, and his eager lips already brushed yours even as he waited for permission.

"I may only ever kiss My One, whom they call Oakenshield," you said softly. "Where can I find him under the fine trappings of this great King?"

In response, Thorin gripped the heavy golden crown on his head and lifted it off. It slipped carelessly from his fingers and fell to the snow-covered ground with a dull thud. 

"Let me show you," he said, and waited no more. He kissed you with the hunger of years of longing, deeply and greedily, pausing only when you whimpered for breath you could not catch. He backed you up underneath a tree, which you leaned against to aid your weakening balance as Thorin pressed on, his mouth leaving your swollen lips only to descend your neck, worshiping every inch of skin he could access.

"Durin help me," he growled into the curve of your shoulder, exposed where he had nearly torn your sleeve off. His chest still heaved from exertion and barely restrained lust. "I must have you again." He raised his eyes to meet yours, and the look in them made you swallow hard, conscious of your own depraved desire for him. "But it should be in the proper way you deserve."

"You are the only one I would ever have," you said, combing your fingers through a section of his thick black hair, now beautifully mixed with silver stands. 

He took your hand to his lips, kissing your palm repeatedly before saying, "So would you return to Erebor with me?"

Your hesitation made him wrap both arms tightly around you, his entire body tense with the lingering fear of being separated from you again.

"You have to come back to me. Because I cannot do this without you."

"Do what?" you asked, caressing his beard to calm the anxiety you regretted causing him. "What task is it that the great hero of Erebor needs a humble peasant's help in accomplishing?"

"The task of living." Thorin cupped his hand underneath your chin and gazed at you with soft, earnest affection. "A life with you was the only treasure I ever desired, but duty forced me to deprive myself of it. But no longer. I have avenged my family and restored our honor and our house. I have led our people back home. The time has come for me to pursue my own joys and pleasures, and those exist only in you."

"But my lord. My love," you whispered, once again moved to tears by the gladness his words roused in you. "Am I still a suitable match for you now that you require a consort to rule a kingdom by your side? I am not fit for the legendary grandeur of Erebor." You gestured at your attire, from your unadorned hair, your plain brown wool dress with a patched up skirt and worn, dirt-caked boots. "Just look at me."

"Indeed. I look at you with great pleasure," Thorin said, with a smirk that immediately made you blush. "When I look at you, I see my dreams fulfilled. I cannot imagine providing Erebor with a braver, kinder, wiser, or more radiant Queen."

"If you would still have me, that is." He held out his open palm to you, revealing an item he produced from the folds of his robe. Fading sunlight bounced off the high polish of the small, silvery-grey stone. You gasped when you recognized the betrothal bead you had offered him so many years ago. He must have rescued it after you had flung it away in your heartbroken grief, and kept it safe with him all this time. 

"I fought through dragonfire and armies of orcs so I may live to see this day, so I may get a second chance to accept and wear this." Hope and fear battled in his intense stare, which bore down on you with heavy anticipation. "But now the course of my fate rests entirely upon you. Will you have me?"

He held his breath in the brief silence before you closed his fist around the bead and smiled. "I will have you for the rest of my life and whatever else lies beyond, Thorin Oakenshield." You placed a tender kiss on his knuckles. "So let us go home and see to this task of living… my King."

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Thorin: //exists//

Me, a strong newly single woman after long-term relationship ends:

Me for 23 years: I'm aromantic

Me from 24-29 in a committed relationship: ok maybe there's a little wiggle room

Me for a month after breaking up: yeah i was definitely aromantic all along

Thorin:

Wiggle room? Squish? I have no idea but... okay yeah you have a nice existence. A very well portrayed character I must say.

Utterly cute!!! I love this Thorin🥰🥰🥰🥰

Drabble nugget:

You ran into the royal bedroom, giggling.

Thorin’s loud footfall followed on behind, him teasing that he was going to get you.

Until you reached the edge of the bed with nowhere to go.

“I believe I have you cornered, my love,” Thorin grinned. He dashed toward you, grabbed you playfully and tickled you.

You laughed hard and felt your body grow weak in the sensation, where you dropped to the bed.

Thorin looked down at you, his arms either side of you, propping him up. “I’ve got you now.”

Slowly you reached up, tugged on his tunic and pulled him down for a kiss.

One More White Hair.

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader (human)

Warnings: ANGST! Insecurity, mutual pining, fluff.

Summary: From the imagine, "Imagine that Thorin is in love with you but won't let on as he believes he's an old man and is no good for you'.

Comments: Requested by two anons and @lemond57 Thank you to everyone who voted in the poll regarding when this fic should be set. The majority asked for post Quest. We also get a bit of match-maker Dis. So, enjoy!

As always, if you like the story, please consider a reblog. It really does help. If you would like to be added to any of my story tag lists, or my Follow Forever tag list (where you’re tagged in everything) then please let me know.

Thorin sighed as he stood in front of his full length dress mirror. He was sure that another grey hair had appeared overnight. It shone silver as it wove through his braid. Each hair was a reminder of all those years that he was ahead of you. But nothing could stop his heart wanting you as much as it did. By human years you were in your prime of life, at your peak. Thorin felt as though he was now deflated, crumbling away as he approached his second century. Surely if he had met you all those years ago when he was young, and his hair was black and his skin free of blemish, you would have fallen for him. The scars which littered his body acted as a map of all the wars he had participated in. Each blemish was a sign of his experience. Your skin was still unmarked, unbroken. So much innocence.

That evening would be your weekly dinner with Thorin, the rest of his court advisers and Dis. Since being part of the King's Company only a few months prior, Thorin had made sure you now had a home, security and position. You remembered your first day at council, all eyes were on you. No one of the race of Men had ever taken a seat on Dwarf council. However, as time passed, you had gradually found your place. Dwalin and Balin had welcomed you immediately, having been two of your traveling companions.

In your bedchamber and you began pushing through the clothing which hung in your wardrobe. Dresses, tunics, shawls, cloaks, robes. One dress sat at the end of the line of clothing: it was the dress that Thorin had gifted you upon moving into your bedchamber. It was deep, midnight blue. Dresses always made you feel insecure, as if unwanted attention would be drawn to you and mockery would be shown. And this one had been no exception, until now. You picked it up and draped it over your arm. Something hit you, a revelation... it was the same colour that Thorin always wore. Had this been a simple coincidence? Probably. You highly doubted that Thorin would have thought that deeply into such a thing as this.

With a sigh, you shifted away and began to dress for the occasion.

Thorin was first in the hall, sitting at the head of the table. And gradually everyone began to appear, filling up the seats around the long table. Wine and ale was on hand, plenty to keep everyone merry.

You sat at the far end of the table, next to Balin. First off, you placed a napkin into your lap, preparing for the meal. Then you looked up and noticed Thorin glancing at his own reflection in a goblet. Why did he do this so often? Was he becoming vain?

Thorin sighed and looked over toward you, noticing that you had your gaze in your lap. But his heart hammered in anxiety and delight at the sight of you wearing the dress. It looked just as he had imagined; it was a snug fit and showed off your curves beautifully.

Balin smirked to himself as he noticed Thorin watching you. It had become known within the main circle of advisers that Thorin had his eye on you. However, you remained oblivious to the fact.

The evening went as it normally did: eating, drinking and plenty of chatter.

You noticed that Dis kept whispering to Thorin, nudging him. But his face would then contort and grow angry, until finally he hissed something at her and she crossed her arms in frustration. "I think you take the stubbornness of Dwarves to a whole new level!" Dis exclaimed.

"Enough!" Thorin bellowed.

Everyone stared for a second at the King and his sister, then shifted their nervous gazes elsewhere.

"Umm, we'll begin taking our plates to the kitchens," you proposed, feeling awkward. The rest of the table, apart from Thorin and Dis, muttered in agreement and grabbed their plates and cutlery, hurrying to the kitchen, which was just out of the hall.

Thorin and Dis remained sat down, almost side by side.

"Thorin, I'm being serious, you need to tell her," Dis said, her voice soft but firm. "You've given everything for this kingdom, for our people. You deserve some happiness. I see the way you look at each other."

"Dis!" Thorin warned.

"You think the fact you're older than her makes a difference. It doesn't."

"Look at me!" Thorin exclaimed. "I'm an old man. What kind of woman would want..."

"She would," Dis replied. "Trust me. You've got nothing to lose here, Thorin, and everything to gain. Just talk to her."

Thorin sighed and smiled weakly at Dis. "I shall."

As the guests of Thorin's dinner began to disperse, he called you back. "Can I talk with you privately?" he asked.

Dis smiled to herself and winked at Thorin as she disappeared out of the main double doors.

"Of course," you said. You sat down at the table where Dis had been sat. "You look worried. What's bothering you?" The set of his face seemed to be that of anguish. Did this relate to his outburst earlier?

Thorin blinked hard and looked down at the table.

You reached across and took his hand. "You've put your faith and trust in me this far, please do not stop now."

"I..." Thorin began, his silver blue eyes locked with your gaze. "I love you."

You gasped, unable to hold back your shock at this. "You...you..."

"I love you," he said again. "But I'm old, and while I know my sister means well, she doesn't see the years on my face that I do. Every time I look in the mirror, I see one more white hair. My body is littered with scars. I should not be yearning for you the way I do...."

You gripped his hand tighter, your thumb caressing his. "You're not old. You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen."

"What?"

You smiled as you saw his eyes widen in shock. "I mean it. You are. You might be older than me, Thorin, but I never see your age. I just see a beautiful man who I would never have any chance with."

Thorin chuckled. "You're very wrong in your estimation of chances."

You brushed your hand through his long locks, still smiling as you did so. "These white hairs just add to how handsome you are, you know?"

"You are trying to flatter me now..."

"No, I'm speaking the truth. I'd never speak anything but truth to you. I've seen you look at your own reflection so many times, and I kept wondering if you were growing vain."

Both of you couldn't help but laugh.

Thorin cupped your cheek with his hand. "It felt like with each new white hair you were growing further and further away from me."

"Never," you whispered, and leaned in for a kiss.

***

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what hair routine do you follow Thorin, spill your secrets

Want for Nothing

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x modern!OC, Tessa DeVon

Words: 6,404

Rating: Teen+ (inuendos, testing the waters--mmm) (18+ for spicy themes to be safe)

Warnings: no-angst confession, pining, LOTS of touching, kisses and grinding, lovely dirty talk, sweet, sweet romantic tension

A/N: a bit of fluff, bit of pining, and no small amount of delicious chemistry for these beloved characters who are FINALLY acting on their feelings... Much love to @fizzyxcustard in celebration of her recent trip around the sun... belated, but very much deserved! This one's for you, m'love 💞

Summary:

Take away the robes, the sword, the crown, and the weight of responsibility; these things leave Thorin as just a dwarf. A dwarf with pride, passion, and loyal to a fault-- and yet also easily the most honest and endearing man Tessa DeVon has met in this or any other realm- most notably, hers.

And does she ever crave him. The dance with death they faced on their Quest is over, and Tessa ever so wants to settle into a gentle ending with her Dwarf King.

The busier the two get, she'd do nearly anything for a moment alone, and when she happens on just such an occasion, she's thrilled-- only to doubt reading into the situation with one sided intentions. But what if these feelings were not so one-sided? How might she be rewarded when she brings her heart to the surface…

Read on AO3

There's a learning curve or two, for Tessa to learn in Erebor. Or three. It’s hard to keep count; it feels like there is a new one every day…

The Mountain is both familiar and not. The stories she’s heard on their cross country trek to the Erebor has painted a clear picture in her mind– and now, she’s seen it in the flesh and has the chance to have a hand in helping rebuild it. Her reinstated King has his mind set to restore the parts that should be redeemed back to their former glory, and to also sort out the plans for the things he wants to change. As the second of his royal namesake, Thorin II has the rare opportunity to make this kingdom as he sees fit– one to truly bring all the dwarf kingdoms into the fold and see Erebor and her people reach higher highs than his forefathers ever conceived.

And that’s a hell of an undertaking.

Not that he wished to micromanage, but Thorin has spent days slaving over each department’s planners and ledgers to get a solid master plan in place, with those he trusts at the top– because if his Company worked this hard to come home, too, he's going to see that they thrive in their new roles. There's bound to be missteps -trial and error- but the kindly voices of hardy dwarves around him will help him tackle the learning curve.

There is also the matter of his conscience– another, new learning curve of his own. Thorin must wrangle and settle the guilt of his failings… and thank Aule that Tessa promised to be here to see it through. 

He’s told her any time she’d listen that he relies on her for that blessing– the mercy that passes his understanding.

Tessa is so proud of the whole operation, of all of them– if a little at a loss of what to do, herself. Through recovery, she was able to be of help during a most stressful time; but the first night the entire Company sat together again for a reunion meal now that they’ve all healed, the questions came to how they would divide the shares, their stations, etc. Each member, to the last dwarf,  volunteered to aid Thorin however he deemed. 

The journey brought them together so closely, and none could go long without seeing each other now that they’ve been through Hell and Back Again. 

In the very beginning however, Tessa could not have felt more like an outsider. 

Welcomed as she was and tested through trial after trial living amongst them with linked arms, living in the Lonely Mountain was a new experience entirely. She might have been given nickname after nickname by the men in her life: from playful to annoying, to something called Sanâzyun… but she was and could never forget, in every way, a stranger to this land: to the Race of Men, Elves, to the dwarven kind.

… to the very World of Middle Earth. 

So while she rested her head each night under the assurance that she had a secure place here and plenty of friends who cared for her, Tessa made no mistake to try and assume she knew it all from a few stories and some history lessons around a fire. 

Out of respect, she nearly excused herself in the early meetings when they talked over all this– but Thorin stopped her in her tracks each time she made to stand. In perfect grace, he’d extended an offering to her, 'naturally'. He swears she'll want for nothing if she chooses to stay, 

'Celebrate your wins, yes. But please, share in this– our joys and our revelry as well– this home we've won together. This Mountain is yours to call home if you wish it so. You bled for this just as we all have. I cannot imagine a soul here would not want for you to stay, Tessa.'

So she agrees to stay… like she was going to choose anywhere else. Everyone cheered when she gave the news.

So they each set to work. 'Rome wasn't built in a day', and neither will Erebor. Tessa decided to shadow Balin and find the nooks and crannies that can be preserved. Royal Quality Control– similar enough to her old job, she reasoned. She learns the Mountain home best this way... though in doing this, she also caught a bout of 'smog sickness' from the lower mines at first– the third learning curve. She had to learn the power of hydration in the hot forges and the importance of a good, well-fitting facescarf.

But as with all new things, these stumbling blocks were all teaching lessons: Tessa’s to find her place in this world,  and Thorin’s to not sweat the small stuff and to try and rest himself.

–and maybe learn to come to terms with his heart’s feelings too. Tessa’s a bit ahead of him on that front… 

It's been weeks since their last talk on the subject;  of their undeniable chemistry. Rather than put a name to their draw to one another, the dwarf King and his odd, other-worldly Darling with her funny flat twang of an accent have remained in a dance of sorts, ever since… and Tessa -poor thing- has never quite forgotten what's all been pushed to the side and gotten in the way.

Perhaps, she wonders as she slips on her long sweater atop the layers of embroidered dress, I can snag him aside for a little chat tonight. God knows he needs a break. Maybe I'll pay Dwalin for a good distraction, some whiskey– yeah, that'll do it.

So, with a smirk, Tessa slipped a bottle of her personal stash from her makeshift bedside table, wrapped it in a leather skein, and set out into the Hall at Fili's call for her. 

Here Tessa found herself surrounded by the brashest blend of personalities in what was beginning to be actually a very relaxing moment... At dinner, the Company had all been merrymaking and having a blast of it. There's been builds, a hog tying, and something called a 'Stumpfest': which for those out along the mountainskirts, that was a success called for a celebration. Tessa will take any excuse to open this whiskey again. 

Then as the evening dwindled on, the stories began; clusters of family and friends telling their tales of old, and thankfully, making an attempt to include Tessa as much as possible. It often felt like a personal storytime to her, whenever her boys took the helm of a conversation. 

'Ye won't believe this next one lass, just wait till ya hear-'

Good thing Tessa brought the whiskey for the occasion- she'd need it for herself after all these gory war stories…

Across the room where Heads of House have gathered for a meal, Thorin was actively blurring the lines between work and play as they speak. His sidebars, from what Tessa could vaguely tell were ones of nostalgia which segued into his current happenings quite well. Still, she'd listen to him all day if she could. 

Everyone at the table, and truly everyone in Erebor, sees their king as infallible, immovable and without any chinks in the armor– never knowing that his biggest enemy is himself. After all, his fatal flaw is never turning that brilliant mind of his off. Funny, Tessa thinks to herself, that he'd be a prime candidate for Redbull or Five Hour Energy advertisements for as much as he complains about not having the energy to get through the day. Though in the warm din of the evening fires blazing across the fire stones, he'd gained a second wind through a pint or two of his favorite ale.

Tessa snuck a glance from where she sat among a circle of master storytellers; namely her dear Bofur and Nori. Even with hilarious sources of distraction right next to her, she’s unable to part her sights from Thorin for long. He’s just– captivating. Even here - at the end of the day with his hair down and tunic untethered to the low point of the neckline. He’s irresistible. And not helping Tessa’s endless pining of him…

As the hour dragged on, she was pleased to see Thorin laugh and ease himself of those hard lines of focus he wore– and was hit with even more delight when he met her eyes with rapture and ultimate fondness, even from across the room. It was electrifying, every time, to have his focus all on her. (What she wouldn't give to have a way to speak mind to mind, because she cursed the distance between them whenever he looked at her like that.)

Sure enough though, the pull to be by his side was too strong– and he, too, beat her to the same draw. 

Thorin came to her circle of conversation, where Bofur was regaling another far-fetched story Tessa assumed was toeing the line of fantasy. While he didn't react to the outbreak of laughter that ensued, Thorin spoke above them on the downbeat, begging the group to allow him to borrow Tessa– effectively excusing the pair 'for a quick review while she has the time'. 

Tessa assumed this was a lovely excuse to take a walk, as they left the hall and into one of the upper corridors.

–but it wasn't. No, he's actually picking her brain and trying to find the right bit of parchment in the Mapmakers Study to show her something, and swept her away to help him look. 

For a moment, Tessa did find this adorable: Thorin, flitting about mumbling a decade's worth of history as if she can hear him properly, explaining what he's doing. But it's just his way of trying to catch her up to speed, so she took their outing as a dear expression of that. 

Inside this room, Tessa found a little perch beside the table she happened upon. It's ancient and caked with rubble, dust, and stacks of books. Oh, and of course, Dwarven scabbards; because who in their right mind in Erebor would find themselves without their steel at their side, even one abandoned generation ago? The mess was a funny sight. Careful of nicks and splinters, Tessa minded where she sifted through, all while Thorin dug around like he owned the place speaking only in fragments- sorting his thoughts as he did the hidden treasures laid out before him.

A comfortable quiet passed between them, leaving Tessa to a host of thoughts in her inner dialogue. When Tessa recalled the memories and stolen moments they shared like this– the ones they typically came so close to talking about, but were always interrupted for one reason or another– the flair of impatience reared up.

Thorin's promise, especially.

So, Tessa broke her waiting silence,

"You said once, 'I wouldn't want for anything'. Not while I lived here, right?"

Thorin only barely cocked his head, still on the hunt for whatever he was searching for. 

"Mm, that's right," he offered blindly. "Why do you ask."

A knife's hilt caught her attention. To admire the goat's-leather handle, Tessa picked it up and leveled it on a finger– and kept her gaze from him, as aloof as she can manage, 

"Well I gotta say…" she lightly sighed, "If the taste of what I had in Laketown is any indication, I'd say I'm pretty neglected."

Polite quiet was thrown out of the room– by Thorin’s hand on the table rolling something off it by accident. 

The sound turned Tessa towards the clatter, and then to her lovely companion. Completely puzzled, Thorin looked up to her newly alerted. Concern coated that expression.

Tessa made a concerted effort to keep her face as neutral as possible. Really sell the blasé look to him;

"On the back porch?..." Tessa threw the memory into the open. 

Tomorrow would be the blessed day that’s been over a year in the making: the day that would see the dwarves reach Erebor, and the buzz about Bard's small home couldn't be more lively. With the exception of Kili's room where he fought with sleep and the aches, the Company had trouble getting a good night's rest when the journey would be reaching its end in a matter of hours– when they'd take the boats from Laketown and see their home again. Yes, this was the night before they take on their last stretch of road, so Tessa joined Thorin on the balcony for their nightly chat– presumably their last peaceful one for a while.

He's wearing red tonight. It's a borrowed shirt and decidedly too long in the arms– and yet he pulls it off with a rugged finish. He could don any color and he'd look amazing… even though the Durin blue is the natural choice. Surely it will return after a wash day gives it new life.  

Threading his arm, relaxed, Tessa keens in the cool of the night and said she'd decided to come outside to simply enjoy the view while she has it. –but as he noticed she's looking right at him when she said the words, Thorin settles into the moment's respite with her, comforted as never before- and squeezes the hand laid atop his. 

Didn’t last long, this stretch of magic and attraction. When picking up the sound of Bilbo and Balin wandering out the door on the far side of the dock to talk with him, Tessa took her leave; well, not before she snuck a kiss on Thorin’s cheek before he can turn and say otherwise. But words never came in his surprise: only action.

It’s so fast– Thorin catches her wrist back, pulls the palm over where his heart beat, and gives Tessa a real kiss for the very first time: warm and firm due to how close she was. 

The pair didn't notice since Tessa bluffed so well, passing them and the Company with that stolen moment with the King all to herself. Secret kept, she simply beamed in what looked like pride to the outside, after slipping inside and losing herself to drink and a buzz that had nothing to do with the wine. 

A tense parting would come the next morning… As Kili's health waned, Fili stubbornly set standing by his brother’s side, the Company received an earful of even more warnings about the Mountain's curse, and poor Bilbo fluttered about more nervous than he'd ever been. Before they set out from the city, when Thorin asks Tessa to stay in Bard’s home and care, she agrees because it's obvious: she'd protect his family without question and understands Thorin to-a-tee. He worries for them both, his sister-sons, but in turn, Tessa makes him swear to be careful until they can rejoin him. He gives his word as best as possible- as the Uncle, the Leader, and something more... 

Under the little half canopy, some wooden chimes blew their way in the breeze as a send-off song of their own. Nothing more to promise as she knew nothing truly was, Tessa offered Thorin as confident a smile and 'go get em' as she could manage. 

But as she heads inside, Thorin catches her elbow again to make her stop. She's thrilled her brave show of affection wasn't a dream, when the dwarf cups her head and kisses her goodbye again in private where no one can see them: under tarps, caring touch, and broken bits of light above them… shedding what hope they could offer this tired, wooden corner of the world .

–And it all fell into place; each line of Thorin's confusion dissipates as he realizes just what Tessa means. 

What's more is his response, interest seeping in: 

"Is that what you want?"

Tessa cocks her head. All too demurely, mind you– sliding a hand back through her hair's part, the flirty act deliciously fluffed it up. She's feigning innocence, but even the smallest of moves all but scream how she's presenting herself from the chest, out. 

True, Tessa wants his kiss again.. But she wanted something even deeper, felt herself wanting for more than just that one brief connection on the surface. 

She yearned for every bit of Thorin: those moments of pride she’d observed in public, as well as these intimate ones here. She wanted his heart, his mind, his kindness, his righteous  rage… she wanted to taste every story he’d gift her, and wrap herself up in that voice for the rest of forever. 

So in short? Yes; she wanted him. 

But this behavior… this is a wager. A huge limb she's leapt onto. 

Whatever Thorin was looking around the desk for her to see went forgotten. Instead, he chose to close their gap. 

With steady steps, he saunters close to his fairer company– dangerously eyeing her face, to her neck, to the slope of her chest, and to her eyes again. The move forced Tessa into a lean back onto the desk, pinned. Under such dazzling eyes, she just holds back Thorin's stare with a saucy, hidden smile.

"The lady wants for a bit of attention, does she?" 

Thorin soothed the woman in reach as he framed her perfectly, hands bridged on the desk on either side of her. 

"Just a bit, maybe," Tessa slides her hands along his lapels- not so cautiously anymore. "Not to be an inconvenience, Your Majestic-ness…"

With a careful eye, Thorin outlined her features as he looked her over, ignoring her jab and seeking the intention underneath. He's no simple-minded man- he sees everything in a word: what she says and what she means, even in her jests. Something akin to doubt crossed his face as he spoke his mind, 

"I'd not been certain… Forgive me if I cast the wrong impression your way," Thorin sought her forgiveness through a tender touch of her arm, "Tessa, I've only ever– I've tried my utmost to carve away time to you, as you rightly deserve. Though I’ve not presumed or demanded so…"

A lovely flip bashed against Tessa's chest, her desire: spurring her nod of the head to placate his worry. 

Thorin asked further, meekly,

"Am I to believe you– might feel as I do? Regarding that night, and… the morning that followed, and the– Mahal, what you said in the infirmary…" Thorin winced at the shared memory; indeed, reading into things too late. 

Tessa bopped her head again, a subtle way to show her heart lies with him without a doubt in her mind. That it wasn't too late…not when she'd given her reason for staying, why she'd stay in Thorin's corner, and the reason she'd keep coming 'round: 

'Love– present tense.' 

"Feels like ages ago, but– yeah." Tessa confessed. "Kinda hoped it wouldn't be a one-time thing," A small, enticing smile tinged the side of her mouth. 

"I feel a fool all the more, then," Thorin chuckled as he swept Tessa into his arms more comfortably, "I truly have been distracted, haven't I."

"I don't think a single person here would blame you, Thorin. You're more than busy– you're booked three or four times over, hon," Tessa laughed herself, sinking into his arms. "Your people's King comes first, and I know that; and I can behave myself well enough on my own between my sightings of the guy."

Thorin's look softened upon her. He clearly wasn't content with this status quo.

"And it's not like I feel ignored, not in the slightest! M'only–" Tessa trailed off, turning coy again and fixating on all these details up close; the stiching and braidwork she'd come to associate with this more illustrious form of 'Thorin', "--just finding myself craving a certain someone's attention sometimes. Just from one, particularly regal source, busy as he is…"

With his palms swept up her corseted sides, the dwarf before her teased her right back. To her delight– Thorin likes to play, too.

"And whose attention is that?” he asked lightly, “There are several dwarf lords here tonight, all from noble blood. Whose attention have you sought after, so patiently?..."

Breathless as she locks in on his lips and gives a playful little smirk, Tessa hug hims loose around the shoulders.

He's got her: snug in tight, in perfect space to nuzzle noses, close to speaking into her partially open mouth,

"Tell me, Tessa~"

His Darling swallowed. Won't take much, she'll be caving any moment now. Broken and breathy, Tessa stood stock still beside herself. Her chest heaved with the words,

"-'d like yours."

Thorin rumbled, "Louder."

"Yours." Tessa's shudder.

A happy, low moan came from Thorin in response, his forehead dropping to hers for a nuzzle. What she'd been reduced to by this man's voice…breaking eye contact from that gorgeous face to study his neck.

"Shyness, from you. Wherever did this come from, pretty thing?"

Forget shyness and patience. Tessa whines, tipping her head up for a kiss.

"Thorin, please."

The dwarves' King quiets her with a devilish hush of his lips before collecting her hair back and capturing hers in one fell swoop. But one right after another, Thorin easily lost himself in the sensation.

 Just as guilty and greedy for so much more. 

Breaking for labored breaths and a too-long glance, a delighted smile lit up Tessa's face, and one in equal measure to his. 

Giving him attention back, Tessa's hands cupped his strong neck and jawline, fingers teasing deliciously down to his beard before seeking a path through his hair like he'd done to her. This earned a straight growl and a deliberate step forward to pin her to the table-- to the point where Tessa felt Thorin's 'presence' in every sense of the word.

She sighed his name, like she could breathe it until the end of time to sustain her. For Tessa, it was easy, and right off the tongue, to react like this at the lack of room, distracted by his press to notice him straying to lap at her neck now. 

Paws cradling her to him, Tessa's stance spread to let her leg give out and lift on instinct. 

Reading her moves by touch, Thorin yanked behind her knee to prop her up against the surface to fit himself to her. She was pretty sure a knife hilt and some empty scabbards laid flush against her bottom, but she barely cared.

"Thorin--" Tessa lightly sighed and swallowed for control. Her head buzzed from within, and echoed by his moans answering hers, "some--ah.. Don'-- nnng d-door?"

"I don't care." Thorin growled in a deep place in his chest. "Let them come. I've waited for you long enough."

Tessa gawked: has he??

She could chuckle now, she's that relieved– but gasped at the sensual kiss and light suck to her ear. Thorin teases the stud between his teeth. Nuzzling her back to center, he mumbled something delicious in his native language before his mouth was yanked back to meet hers again by way of slightly trembling hands.

There's no hope now; Tessa's addicted. Now locked in, she bit along Thorin's bottom lip to claim him– wordlessly crying out 'mine' to his lips.

The game of back and forth wound up with Tessa being hoisted fully onto the table, Thorin's hands petting just about any curve he could reach. Fingers long since tugged her collar down so he could worship her jewel-adorned chest, one palm braced above her as she has him locked between her legs by the waist, making out with him half atop her. 

As her sights stayed fixed on every bit of his regal features, Tessa's exploration of Thorin's chest and arms' reach had him heaving heavy, excited breaths when they broke away-- each huff exerting intense restraint to not bowl her over and lose himself in her entirely. The sight thrilled her.

While she held onto his pillar of a bicep, Tessa gave Thorin's neck an extra dose of care and took advantage of the angle to whisper all sorts of nothings up to him– anything to break his damn restraint and give her some sort of pressure between her hips.

"God you're gorgeous…”  Tessa sighed, the praises coming naturally. “Watching you run this place like you were always meant to... teasing with those baby blues of yours, and all I can do is watch you-- so fucking unfair."

Thorin shuddered under her tongue.

"How the hell am I supposed to focus all those days last week… stuck in that throne room, wishing I could just walk right up to that dais, n'sit on your lap... That's my spot, after all; you promised you’d keep it for me~"

"Mahal, Tessa..."

Tessa smirked, 

"Part of you wouldn't even care if I did, would you? I could wear that blue dress you like on me so much. Won't be any mistaking whose I belong to then, huh~" She whispered up to his ear. "Maybe one of these days I just..might..do that."

Thorin rattled a low growly noise, something fierce and turned on. 

He caught her neck in a light hold, tearing her from her niche under his curtain of hair,

"Nnng, must you say things like that..."

Tessa upped the ante on the sweetness, despite the lustful glare he gave.

"Would you rather I lie and say less, my darling Highness?" 

"Lies don't become you," Thorin grit out, tugging her up flush against him, "But if you're to be so lavish and colorful in your descriptions of what you'd like me to do to you, I'd prefer it to be in a warm, lit room with a good, sturdy bed– and not in the same hour I have to turn tail and face my innermost council with my 'sword drawn'."

A chortle burst from her with a lovely giggle-- the audacity, she could imagine the faces now. 

Thorin fixed a look at her laugh, straightening his waistband as subtle as possible.

"You are set on becoming the death of me, aren't you."

"I doubt you really wann’a make a deal with Death now after all this time, do you? Thought you had work to do."

"Work that you do not seem remotely interested in partaking in right now, little minx."

"I am interested, I've always been interested," Tessa sang up to the object of her affections, "Just thought maybe you deserved a break–" Tessa eyes him back with a glance... and a super slow uptick of the leg,  "Just a nice, little distraction."

Thorin pressed in at that front leg advancing. He groused into her shoulder, inlaying a kiss between his thoughts. 

"What was that?"

"A desperate dwarf's plea, my darling dove." Thorin moaned at the base where her neck and shoulder met. "'Have mercy on this stubborn soul.'"

"Hey~ m'not trying to embarrass you," Tessa smooths his hair back and directs him by the bearded chin to face her, "Just want you to feel the same as I do. Just as good, just as special."

"My special one, you are." 

Thorin mouthed at her cheek after a sweet kiss, continuing, 

"--and how I'd enjoy showing my special one just how special she is–”

Tessa sank into his arms tightening around her waist, giving in to his support.

“For Mahal as my witness,” Thorin all but sang into her ear low and clear, “I'd not show my beloved my efforts in this musty place. I'll not have her on a desk that's not been touched in who-knows-how-long when I commit every blessed inch of her to memory…”

Good God.

Thorin rakes through her hair before the poor thing could speak, could think- 

“No; I shall have her on the finest bed in these Halls. Nothing in earshot but a fire raging: crackling the air around us, accompanied by that perfect sound of every sweet noise I drive out of her- filling the Mountain itself. Every last beg and moan and sigh and cry. I take my time. I do not rush, and I will not allow her to hold a drop of her sweetness back from me. And believe me, Sanâzyun, I will know."

Tessa... stopped working. 

Then he promised again, 

"You will want for nothing… whilst you are under my care and my house. Not now, nor until my last breath." Thorin pulled back to hold her gaze to him again, "Does that please you, my sweet, neglected One?"

The tiniest noise escaped Tessa-- not unlike steam from a teapot-- but was silenced as Thorin sealed his filthy promises with a lavish kiss to her jaw. 

The rest of Tessa's neck bowed, compliant; leaving Thorin with the room and to he time he willed to carry on with adoring attention to her nape, all while massaging up her leg through her dress.

… –at least until an oaken door flung open in a crash against the wall. 

Tessa flung into panic mode- what she must look like, a wanton thing; Thorin forced them both to duck, quick now, under the desk. 

Once landed on her ass and tucked in by Thorin's massive, immovable arm, Tessa choked on her laugh– heaven knows why they're doing this... But Thorin simply held her: back flush against him with the unspoken swear to not move a muscle.

"Will Mahal in His Grace please give me a reason not to whack this oaf, please! I need a sound voice of reason for once, THORIN!! 

"I'll show ya REASON, you ancient pair a' donkey's buttocks!!" 

Tessa looks at said King over her shoulder to catch sight of it; Thorin simply rolls his eyes and firms up his mouth. 

Tessa mouths, 'donkeys buttocks?' It took everything to keep her from giggling– this scene is ridiculous. Thorin however, while keeping a sharp ear on where the others were in the room, met her silent question with a cheeky wink. They listened on– praying to every spirit that their surprise company would just leave. The wandering hand cupping Tessa's waist spoke volumes as much….

Which worried her– because she could hear steps all around the backside of the table.

She can't really believe this: two grown adults were hiding from from their dearest, closest comrades and kin. 'Like randy bairns', Dori would say… Of course, he's presently debating with Gloin something fierce. 

"Well surely you gotta give him the context, Dori!!"  Fili chimed in to lay down the law. Tessa could imagine the hand motions he's giving to seem his most princely. "Be fair, now! Tell him who's really got the grievance." 

"The lords over the Guild are making a right mess of the armory- we got one chance to do this right, and it's all gone to straight horseshit. It doesn't even take a novice to know what a mess it is- ye can't even walk straight down the Hall, there's rubbish everywhere!" 

"I TAKE OFFENSE TA THAT!" Gloin fired up again, "I've given a GENEROUS allotment to see to the– bah, just as- Not asking ya to come see fer yourself like a nanny," grace reentered the Redbeard's tone, "but- Thorin, you in 'ere?"

A hand petted along Tessa's ribcage. Not a word. 

"You sure he's in here, lad?"

"Saw 'em come in here myself…" Fili mused low in his chest.

Tessa bit her cheek against the pang of nerves for distracting Thorin in the first place. Then, a silent nip to the soft spot on her still-exposed shoulder changed her feelings; she became confident she needn't worry if he wasn't.

"Don't exactly got the best track record of watching where folks are going tho, are ya boy."

"That was one. time." Fili groused, never living down the 'Ponies Incident of the Spring'. "Fine. Let's go your way, Dori."

The two bickered on with an exhausted Fili following suit. But by Grace, Favour and Luck, at the sound of his nephew's grunt to close the oaken door again, Thorin let his head fall back on one of the table supports. 

The sigh that left him was tired and worn. 

Tessa slunk back to recline against him- more across his lap so that she could see him fully, 

"Popular mister you are, huh?"

Thorin bristled at even his closest blood relative who left the room. "Only ever at the peak times I wish not to be."

Tessa chuckled at Thorin's interrupted expense, but snuggled up to him all the same. Naturally he welcomed the cuddle, and coincidentally helped her heart slow down a bit at both their rush of passion and the scare. With a shadowed curtain over them, the pair out of the low lamplight, this hiding spot did wonders for the senses and made everything feel more cozy between them– yes, even criss-crossed on the cold floor. Thank goodness for the linens over the table.

Reminded Tessa of those tarps that gave them shade in Laketown. How similar this all felt, a nighttime deja vu rather than the day... 

"Suppose I might be the selfish one, after all–" Tessa stomached her guilt. "This is just this sort of thing I was trying to avoid..."

"What do you mean?"

Tessa truly felt juvenile now, cooped up and hiding from prying eyes. 

"This." she sassed, "Crawling around like children, trying and almost failing to keep a secret thing going?"

Thorin gave a naughty laugh at this, one that betrayed his years, too.

"Now that you mention, who's to say this need be a secret, really..." 

"You, apparently," Tessa wrenches back to look Thorin dead in the eye, "You're the one who hid us under a flippin' table!"

"Because you were nearly about to faint at my next words– and I'm not letting my nephew see either of us in this state!" Thorin laughed, incredulous. "Imagine what you'd might have cried out for the whole neighboring quarters to hear, had I carried on just so-"

And she did indeed start a poor try to smother her giggles at the sheer embarrassment. Thorin tickled the daylights out of her sides until she scooted into his lap further to gain the high ground. 

While Tessa revealed in this soft spot she’d found in her dearest and most unexpected crush, the thought sunk in how quickly he did, in fact, hide away. He had said he was trying to avoid the look of losing himself, and Tessa couldn't forget that appearances - though vain- were important to him.

As much as she loved the man underneath the regalia, Thorin was the King- he and the crown were inseparable. 

"Don't tease, Thorin." Tessa heaved, breathless. It was easy to disguise her pause as mirth for a moment. 

But Thorin pored over the way her face must have changed with a careful regard,

"I am not teasing you."

He cupped her cheek then, keeping her close with a gentle hold, Thorin leaned in to brush their foreheads together. 

"What of you, my Heart," he rumbled softly, "Would you sacrifice your happiness as I have… and wait along for a mere moment's peace with the one you seek for the rest of your days when you may have it all, freely?"

Tessa's brought to tenderness by his words.

"Well.." she managed with a Southern smile, shifting to mesh her fingers with his off her face, "When it's you, I think any chance is worth it, even if it's small. Even if…."

She glanced up, to the plans laid out on the table above them,

"... this is the only chance I get to really work up the guts to tell you just how much I would want that with you."

While she couldn't read his mind, she was no fool: Tessa saw how her words affected Thorin, as maybe he never got to hear them.

Those lovely, heavy-set brows tilted and softened. 

"I'll take ya however I can getcha, yknow." Tessa tried to lighten her meaning, "I'm really not out to keep you from those who need you, hon. That list is getting longer by the day."

"And if.. I said I needed you?"

Oh how she tried not to set her hopes too high for that. And yet, she was gifted with its blessing:

" 'My people', our friends, will manage well enough on their own." Thorin brushed Tessa's bangs away lovingly, "And I for one agree with your point of view; you are right. I believe I should spare my time when I can. Indulge in that ‘self-care’ you speak of.”

The term sounded funny coming from him, and caused a smile to flicker into your lips.

“Just for a spell of rest and company every now and then can't hurt…” Thorin decided, “-if you say it really matters."

Music to Tessa's ears. 

Taking that height of heart, Thorin scooped Tessa into his lap the rest of the way. Damn the cramped space, but she made herself fit anyway.

"Maralmizi, Sanâzyun." Thorin said, as solemn as a promise that would be given by a King. 

But that light in his eyes- the one that shot into the soul when you looked at it… Tessa couldn't turn away if she tried. In fact, she melted into it, wrapping Thorin up in her arms. 

That's the look of a lover…

…Did he just say he loves me?

"Something tells me," Tessa whispered down to him, "that I think I know that one. You just spun three words, with eight very sweet letters around in Khuzdul… M'I right?"

"A fair observation, yes," Thorin chuffed in a smile, he spiraled a lock of hair around a finger, entranced by its ombre fade of color. "Clever thing."

Tessa beamed in full joy, and nuzzled into him again. 

"I may crave this sight of you all I like," he confessed, "--yet I would also see you by my side as well, Tessa. And proudly keep you there, if you wish," he gave a crooked smile, "If that will satisfy your wanting for the time being, I will make the effort to ensure you do not feel this way again."

Entranced by that smile and adoring words that came from it, 

"Not just for work?"

"You'll have it all. Merely say the word, and you’ll have the world by my hand."

Tessa rested in this comfort. She didn't want the world… just him, really. 

"...I'd like that."

And so, Thorin kissed his Tessa again with ultimate softness- and dare she say, love. 

Perhaps they’d tell the party when they came back into the room, perhaps not just yet. Perhaps they’d keep this between them for now…

Taglist: @lathalea @sotwk @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @guardianofrivendell @middleearthpixie @absentmindeduniverse

^^If I've neglected any tags, please let me know, friends!

For the Fic File Ask Game: I would like to hear more about "The Touch Barrier", please! XD Sounds intriguing!

Ahhh the lovely @sotwk, thanks for playing!!

I started running with the idea of "breaking the touch barrier" and what that might look like for characters like the Mandalorian, whose whole faith and religion is centered around anonymity and secrecy... Putting his heart on his sleeve and (gasp) yes -even showing skin- in any way would be a huge step in telling who he really is through touch. So I made a 4+1 style story that showed a timeline into his budding journey into vulnerability- feelings galore in that one for my space cowboy!!

BUT

I, indeed, ran with it... And turned to some of my other loves of mine in Middle Earth earlier this last winter for something abit more romantic in nature, but no less intimate...

The Touch Barrier centers around the lovely Thorin Oakenshield and my modern-day darling OC, Tessa, who coincidentally keep falling asleep around each other--

--not on the quest back to Erebor.. but within it. Namely, Thorin's old family library. 4 times they didn't mean to, and 1 time they did~

I wanted to try and piece these story beats together through my longfic that's also in the works, but I found these moments more impactful when I put them all as a one-shot. I hope y'all enjoy the progression as much as I do, and fall a little more in love with Tessa along with me 🥰🥰🥰

//and not to worry, I plan to rename my other Mandoverse tale, as it will surely take on a new life when I finish editing the durn thing...//

During the Quest of Erebor ❤️

✨ send this to ten bloggers you think are wonderful. keep the game going ! hope you're having a beautiful day darling, sending lots of love your way✨

@evenstaredits you are just the best 🥰🥰🥰🥰

As a life update, I have not abandoned writing!! Between fun summer travel and then two back to back surgeries for my poor puppy (15 month old, but he's still Baby), it's been a wild and unexpected few months. Work's also gearing up with changes all around, so while it's exciting, it's been zapping my time and brainpower-- and coffee writing hours 😭

Here's my current slate of WIPs for any and all interested:

LotR: Thorin WIP (sequel to Want for Nothing by request!)

LotR: Thorin WIP // some lovely storm comfort with our King~

LotR: Fili one-shot // my first for him that I'd love to make a full one shot!

Star Wars: Boba Fett // one shot that I might make a lil series? Techy Reader and delicious Daimyo!BoBF era Boba ❤️‍🔥

Star Wars: Paz Viszla (sequel to Just be Gentle by request; perhaps taking relationship to next level-- goobs of sweetness) + maybe it's sequel?...

Star Wars: (2) Din Djarin stories that are mostly complete! Just gotta format, land the plane, and make pretty for Tumblr 🤩

LoZ: one shots, bc Tears of the Kingdom got me in my Hyrule Brainrot Era... So many thots, so little time~~

My Star Wars content tends to do the best here and on Ao3... But I have loads of ideas so that there's something for everyone!! I hope to share more fandom goodness with y'all soon... Major kudos to my Discord family (y'all mean the world to me) for being so supportive -here, and on the interwebs- and for loving me through this unintended hiatus! I have so much reading, replying and reblogging to do...

Perhaps if I take a pure PTO day, I can catch up on everything!

Pic of my sweet puppy for good vibes-