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i spent my whole morning reading this, and words cannot express how wonderfully it is written. it felt like a whole new world based off of one i already knew, and i cried SO much. truly the best Kili x Reader fic out there right now. god i’m so sad none of it was real, but DAMN it was lovely

The Book Keeper

Kili x Reader

Fandom: Tolkien

Summary: On an unsuspecting summer afternoon, Gandalf the Gray shows up on your front porch and, much like he did to Bilbo, sweeps you up into an adventure you never could have imagined. With the knowledge of things to come, will you be able to change the ending?

Note: For my sanity, we’re pretending the book describes the dwarves the way they look in the movies. Also I’m gonna deviate a bit from book canon and dip my toes (more like my entire leg) into movie canon just because things flow a little better that way. Also also, I took some liberties with the Dwarvish courting customs. I will probably also be uploading this to AO3 at some point, separated into chapters for easier navigation. 

Bear with me and behold my Magnum Opus.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, the Hobbit spoilers, alcohol/drinking, some angst but a fluffy ending, mentions of injuries, kind of a slow burn but very fluffy

Word Count: 45k

Reader Is: Female, from our world, 23 years old

Stuck. You were stuck. You read the last few sentences back to yourself, but they didn’t make anything click. You’d lost your steam and now, you were stuck once again.

Writing was a lot harder than it looked, that was for sure, but writing something fantasy? You were finding the task nearly impossible. When you’d started the project several months before, it had seemed so fun. You’d grown up on Narnia, on Lord of the Rings. Building your own fantasy world would be quite the task, you’d known, but perhaps you didn’t know quite how time consuming it would be, let alone when you added in the characters and their characterizations, which fantasy creatures to include, how the magic would work, how the weapons would work and so on and so forth.

Thinking about it too much gave you a headache, so you sat back in your chair, closing your laptop. Maybe you needed a break. Some more caffeine, maybe, some stretches for your strained neck and sore wrists.

Keep reading

“getting handsy” part two.

author’s note: damn, it’s been a while! hey guys! life has gotten the best of me, but don’t worry, i didn’t forget you all :) in fact, i’ve been re-watching all of the LOTR/Hobbit movies, and i’m about to start binge watching the extended editions this time! ooh, im so excited :D i’m even more excited for some upcoming fic ideas i have, but for now hopefully this one will tide you all over. it’s not really smutty at all like I originally planned, but I hope you guys enjoy the fluff! and once again, my requests are open, so feel free to dive in and ask for some writings! also! if you haven’t read the first part, you can do so here. enjoy!

Pairing: Kíli / Gender-neutral Human Reader

Word Count: 3,274

summary:  despite unwillingly joining Thorin’s company at the suggestion of Gandalf, it seems the cheeky brown-haired dwarf prince who disarmed you is slowly growing on you, with your heart yearning for his touch to linger

content warnings: PG-13, all the typical LOTR stuff that you can imagine, it basically continues to follow the movie plot

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

After following Kíli to Gandalf, you learned that Lord Elrond had been able to read Thorin’s map, giving the company a deadline of when to reach the mountain: Durin’s Day. Now, as you approached Gandalf on the moonlit precipice, you wondered what awaited you. Pulling you aside, Gandalf lowered his voice as he spoke with you.

“Ah, Y/N, I’m glad you came swiftly. It seems there isn’t much time.”

“Time? What do you mean?” You raised a brow, lowering your own voice as you saw Thorin discussing something with Kíli in the background. You wondered what it was, and when you’d have your weapons returned.

“I suspect that our company’s leader may make haste for the mountains towards the Carrock tomorrow,” he mused. “I wish for you to follow them.”

“Follow them? I thought I already was, after you demanded I join their group.” You were confused now. Why would you need to follow them if you were already doing just that?

“It would seem Master Thorin isn’t too fond of you, Y/N,” Gandalf explained. “I fear he may drive you away.”

“I don’t understand, you speak as though we will be without your company.”

“Mm, yes,” he nodded. “I believe I shall find myself with a new objective shortly. But not to worry, I intend to return as soon as I can. Now, can you promise me you’ll stick it out with them?”

Despite the vagueness of his words, you couldn’t bring yourself not to trust him. Sure, he was troublesome, but you’d be a liar if you said he wasn’t wise. And so, begrudgingly, you had agreed, not knowing what you were getting yourself into. It seemed as though your time in Rivendell would soon be cut short, and rather rudely at that.

Quickly, you awoke to the sound of your newfound roommates collecting their things, preparing to leave. Confused and still blinking away sleep, you beckoned the hobbit (who you had come to know as Bilbo from dinner last evening) to explain what was happening.

“What’s going on?” You asked, your voice slightly raspy from sleep as you forced yourself awake, quickly dressing yourself and collecting your own belongings.

“Beats me, I’m only doing as I’m told,” he sounded annoyed, and kept his response short and curt, leaving you unsatisfied.

“We’re moving out,” Fili, the blonde one, answered in Bilbo’s stead. “We’ve got no time to lose before Durin’s Day, much less in the hospice of elves.” And with that, he left the room, Bilbo following close behind. Now, it was just you and Kíli, who was gathering his weapons now.

“And why didn’t anyone wake me up to tell me?” You scoffed, not appreciating the lack of information and communication on Thorin’s end, despite it being what Gandalf had predicted.

“Thorin said you could remain,” Kíli spoke, his voice softer than yesterday. Perhaps sleep still laid some claim to him as he slung his bow and quiver to his back. “He fears you’d slow us down. I was instructed to return your blades.”

“Oh,” was all that came out from your lips. A part of you was offended at being called slow, but then again, maybe this was a blessing in disguise? It would be less grief on your part if you parted ways with this troublesome group, but you also had come to prefer the company on your journey than roughing it alone, not to mention you had promised Gandalf you’d follow them. And so, your pride got the best of you.

It seems your pride also controlled your feet, leaving you to storm out of the room and leave a very confused Kíli behind as you searched the halls for Thorin.

“Y/N, wait-” Kíli called after you, but it was no use. You were determined.

“You’d leave me with elves and not even the courtesy of saying so?” You had found the older dwarf, interrupting his conversation with Dwalin as you charged him, Kíli chasing behind. Immediately, the two went on the defensive as you approached them, and the rest of the company couldn’t help but look at the scene you were beginning to create, eager to hush you. After all, they were trying to sneak away.

“We’ve no more room for strangers on this journey, least of all a thief.” His commanding presence and royal pride showed through quickly to you, much to your dismay. “We already have a proper burglar, there’s no need for a cowardly sham to join us.”

You bit your tongue from expelling curses, and instead took a deep breath. “Thief? Cowardly? I should think the real cowards are the ones running from aid. Gandalf asked me to join you, why would you betray his word?”

“You have no place here, this is an affair for dwarves. Now leave us.” Thorin wasn’t convinced yet, and you worried if you even held the power in yourself to sway his decision.

“Then let me earn my keep.” You insisted. If they didn’t let you follow, you had no idea what would come next, most especially from Gandalf. “What will it take? Money? Service? I’m quite knowledgeable of the path you’re on, you know.”

“More than a dwarf?” Gloin scoffed. “The lad/lass has gone mad if they think they know the mountains better!”

You glared at Gloin, despite knowing that he was right. You didn’t have much of yourself to offer to a company who already had all of their assets handled. You were just about to finally give in and give up until Balin decided to speak.

“We agreed they’d join us until Mirkwood, Thorin. We’ll be rid of them yet if not for a few more days,” he said, trying to ease the conflict. It was only making it harder for them to get away unnoticed. Any minute now, one of Lord Elrond’s keep could find their rooms empty and dwarfless. “What say you?”

Thorin looked at Balin, contemplating, and then his gaze shifted to you. He was still against the entire idea, but it seemed like his loyalty to his word held him back from saying so. “Fine. But I want you out of my sights as soon as we pass the mountains. I won’t account for any more stragglers.”

His voice had been stoic and curt, and sharp as a blade in the way that you had nothing to reply, as if your tongue had been cut out. The destined king turned away, leading his company out of Rivendell and all that came out of you was a desperate sigh of relief as you followed. That is, until someone grabbed your arm, stopping you.

Turning around, you saw Kíli, his left hand on your arm and his right holding your dagger. “Here,” he said quietly. “The road ahead is dangerous; you’ll need to protect yourself.”

Gingerly, you took back your blade from the young dwarf’s hand. “A sudden change of heart?” You asked curiously, wondering why he chose to return it now.

“You could say that,” he shrugged. “Or perhaps I’d prefer for you not to die on our travels.”

“Aw, I’d be careful now,” you scoffed. “It’s starting to sound like you like me.”

Kíli quickly flushed at the comment, catching himself off guard. “Stop messing around, they’re leaving now,” he muttered, and left to join the others, with you tailing behind shortly after.

By the gods, Gandalf owed you much more than a pint of ale after this. If traversing through the mountains in a freezing rainstorm wasn’t bad enough, you could imagine your surprise when those mountains you were teetering the edge of turned out to be stone giants! Sure, you would’ve had to travel this way anyways just to get to Mirkwood, but it was still terrifying!

Quickly, you found yourself almost slipping off of the edge, your scream stuck in your lungs as someone grabbed the back of your cloak, keeping you from falling down the craggy rocks. “Y/N!” The familiar voice shouted, concern and fear laced in his voice.

Regaining your balance, you saw it was none other than Kíli who had saved you from tumbling down, but before you could utter a simple thanks, the rocks split in two, separating the two of you as you reached for them desperately.

“Kíli!” Fili shouted, but to no avail. Now all you could manage to do was hold on for your life…

Almost just as fast as the previous moments had happened, you had all managed to finally find some sort of safety within a cave. Dwalin went to inspect the depths of it as everyone collected their breath inside, but upon seeing it was nothing but a dead end, Thorin finally gave it up.

“Everyone, get some sleep. We start at first light.” His voice was stern as always, but it didn’t seem to deter the relief everyone was feeling, yourself included. In your wet clothes, you sunk to the ground, grateful to not be stuck back outside with the giants. You held your head in your hands, trying to catch your breath as the adrenaline was slowly coming down; in and out, in and out, in and-

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Kíli knelt down next to you, causing you to look up at his concerned expression. If it weren’t for the fact that you felt like you were having a panic attack, you would’ve found yourself flustered at how delicately your name had sounded on his tongue.

“I.. Yeah, I think so.” You nodded, your breath finding some sort of normalcy now as you focused on your shaking hands. “Earlier, on the cliff, I wanted to say thank you.” When you turned back to look at him, you couldn’t read his expression, his eyes full of wonder and concern and his brows slightly knit in worry. Noticing your shaking hands, he unpacked his blanket, wasting no time in wrapping it around you. You shivered as he did so, grateful for the extra layer and you found yourself unknowingly leaning into his warm touch.

“What did I tell you? I couldn’t have you dying on our travels,” he said with a child-like smile, his eyes crinkling up in the corners, and it was now that he seemed more handsome than he ever had before. His alluring eyes, his beautiful smile, the way his warm hands found yours to stop them from shaking. You found yourself lost, entranced and enamored by him until you remembered you were to respond.

Clearing your throat, you chimed. “But of course; and if I were none the wiser, I’d say it sounds like you’re starting to like me.” You were getting déjà vu of your previous conversation before you had left, and it brought a smile to your face.

“Perhaps you’re starting to grow on me,” he chuckled, and you smiled in return, but before you knew it, your moment together had been cut short.

“Kíli! Help us set up, would you?” Bombur beckoned, interrupting the two of you and stealing Kíli’s attention away as he stood back up to go help once more.

What you hadn’t expected was how much you had missed his touch once he left.

Days passed, and after escaping mountain tunnels chock full of goblins, orcs and wargs, and flying on great eagles to escape it all, you were starting to remember just why you were thinking of quitting your messenger job. It was all too much at once, and you made sure to tell Gandalf an earful of it as soon as you all had made camp.

“You’re nothing but trouble, is that all wizards are these days?” You complained to the grey man, pacing about. “Storm giants? Fine, whatever. Goblins? Terrifying, but manageable. I can even escape orcs and the like, but eagles are another thing entirely!”

“My dear Y/N, are you afraid of heights?” The old man chuckled. “Or would you have preferred to be eaten by wargs?”

You stomped your foot, frustrated. “It’s not the heights, Gandalf, it’s the fear of falling. And I’ve experienced too much of it these days. I mean, come on! I’m only human!”

“That you are,” he nodded, smoking his pipe. “And a wonderfully interesting one at that.”

“Have you not heard a word of what I’m saying? Are you even listening?” You sighed, exasperated.

“My dear Y/N, need I remind you that this was the path you chose for yourself? I merely gave you a small nudge out the door.” He mused, and you knew he was right.

Though he had been your first client when you started this job, everything else you had been through was of your own decision, of your own choosing. You’d be lying if you denied your love for adventure, and perhaps even a love of the camaraderie you’d experienced thus far with Thorin and his unusual company. Your job was usually a lonely one, and yet this trip thus far had been more than enough proof that you were tired of the lone wolf charade, despite how efficient it had been for you.

“Perhaps I’m outgrowing it, then.” You shrugged, sitting on the rock Gandalf was already perched on. “It’s only been three years, and yet I don’t know if I can keep this up.”

“Well, what about settling down somewhere? Working in trade? Surely you couldn’t abandon your skills so easily, little Untouchable.” He offered you his pipe, and you took it, inhaling a puff or two before returning it. The smoke relaxed you, and you sighed.

“I’ve nowhere to go, I’m afraid.” You spoke plainly. “Nothing to do but continue to wander. I’m lost with no home.”

Gandalf sighed, offering a comforting hand on your back. “You need only find yourself again, my dear friend. Find yourself a home to return to.”

The bushes nearby rustled, and soon Kíli and Ori emerged from them; it seemed they had been gathering firewood.

“Ah! There he is,” Ori smiled. “Gandalf! Thorin was looking for you at camp.”

“Was he now?” The old sage asked, standing up now. “Lead me to him then, would you?” He smiled down at the young dwarf before turning to you once more. “Y/N, remember what I said.” He cast a knowing glance to Kíli, leaving you and him alone.

“What was that about?” The young prince asked, and quickly you found yourself flustered. Had Gandalf insinuated this dwarven prince was your home? Nonsense. He was merely handsome and caring, and kind, and maybe a bit of a flirt, but…

Oh gods. Did you like him?

Your face felt flushed, and words seemed to escape you as all you could do was stare up at the messy brow-haired dwarf.

“Y/N? Is everything alright? You look as though a troll were behind me,” he joked, even turning to check behind him. Gods, your name sounded so lovely on his tongue. You caught yourself looking to his lips until you snapped yourself out of your trance.

“I- Uh, right. It’s no matter, it's just something between me and the wizard.” You shook your head, and Kíli chuckled.

“All right then, I won’t pry.” He smiled, pointing next to you at the empty spot on the rock. “May I?”

“Aren’t those needed at camp?” You asked, pointing to the pile of wood in his arms, which he promptly set on the ground.

“And you’d deny me a break?” He smirked, and you couldn’t say no to that gorgeous smile. Gods, it was as if he was crafted of sunlight, and you found yourself secretly wanting to be his moon.

“Well, I suppose not, no,” you corrected yourself, and you scooted a little to give him more space as he sat next to you. Right next to you. Gods, though he smelled of dirt and wet, you found yourself in love with it. He smelled of the earth, of the journey, of life itself.

A silence fell over the two of you as you turned your gaze to the sky, staring at the stars that had decided to shine in the deep navy sky, and suddenly you were reminded exactly why the elves treasured starlight. They were right to do so, with the white lights twinkling in the sky above you two. In the distance, you could hear Bofur and Gloin setting the campfire, with Ori cheering something on. You looked to Kíli to find the young prince already staring at you, a sense of awe in his eyes that caught you unawares yet again. Your face flushed, and it felt hot as you looked at him.

“You’re… you’re staring,” you whispered, caught in his gaze like a deer in the headlights.

He too caught himself, and smiled brightly at you. “Sorry, I just… You’re very beautiful, Untouchable Y/N.”

That was the first time he had ever used your title, and you couldn’t help but laugh nervously about it. It was both flattering as it was a reminder of your life thus far: distant and lonely.

“Just Y/N would do fine, you’ve already served it well,” you smiled, trying to hide your sadness behind it.

Find your home. Gandalf’s words echoed in your mind as Kíli chuckled.

“Ah, I suppose you’re right. But I’m being serious. You look lovely.” His smile was like a memory of life, a memory of living, like a kiss from the wind. A part of you wanted to find out what a kiss from him would feel like, would taste like, would be like.

“Thank you, Kíli,” you shied away for a moment from his intense gaze, feeling his name on your own lips. “You're not too bad yourself.”

“Oh, so you do know my name,” he jested. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten it!”

“How could I?” You spoke before thinking, all on impulse, and found yourself feeling embarrassed of how quick you had asked him that. But you meant it. How could you have forgotten the name of the man who seemed to keep creeping his way into your mind and heart? Whether or not you were ready to admit it, you cared for him.

He noticed your impulse, and you saw it strike him, leaving him speechless as a smile ghosted his features, which were fixed on you. “Y/N…” he whispered.

You turned back to face him, his dark eyes cutting to your soul. “Yes?”

“Forgive me if I’m being too forward, but,” his eyes flitted down to your lips for a moment before returning your gaze. “Can I give you a gift?”

“What is it?” Your voice was so quiet, any quieter and you’d be able to hear the stars before you could hear your own voice.

“Can I… May I give you a gift?” He too whispered, his face leaning dangerously close. Any closer and you feared you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself back from leaning in as well.

“What is it, Kíli?” You looked into his eyes, his eyes of sunlight and beauty that were glittering with the reflections of the stars in the night sky, and found yourself leaning in.

Without dwelling on it any further, motivated by the way his name sounded off of your own tongue, he met your lips in a kiss, his hand reaching to tuck your hair behind your ear. Raising your own hand tentatively, you embraced the kiss, returning it with the same gentle fervor he had initiated it with, your hand gently reaching into his hair as the stars glittered above.

Perhaps, after three years of having nowhere to settle, you could find yourself a new home.

“kisses and fireworks”

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

Pairing: Kíli / Gender-neutral Human Reader

Word Count: 5,165

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And the other?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BOOM!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love. He had called you love. Gods…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“kisses and fireworks”

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

Pairing: Kíli / Gender-neutral Human Reader

Word Count: 5,165

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

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

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

Keep reading

“pick a prompt!”

this prompt post is no longer applicable for requests.

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

dialogue prompts:

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

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

“Why would I help someone like you?”

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

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

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

situation prompts:

Rivals forced to be allies for a competition.

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

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

Your secret relationship has finally been found out.

Your lover’s final moments.

You found out your love will stay unrequited.

studio ghibli prompts:

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

My Neighbor Totoro

Princess Mononoke

Kiki’s Delivery Service

Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind

Castle In the Sky

Howl’s Moving Castle

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

Have a good day and make sure to stay hydrated!

"signing my life away"

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

Pairing: Kíli / Gender-Neutral Human Reader

Word Count: 3,246

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?” You asked.

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

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

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

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

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

“So why did you stay?” You asked.

“What do you mean?” He said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I will literally NEVER get tired of artists giving the dwarves wonderful little carving tattoos oh my fucking god

I had the pleasure of drawing two pieces for #FotFPinUpCalendar2023 organized by @frosticenow !! Here’s my September’s “Shower Thoughts” entry! Make sure to check out the tag for a bunch of awesome fics and art by a ton of awesome people 🌸

"pick a prompt, round two!"

author's note: alright, let's bring it on. I've enjoyed writing all the requests I've gotten from the last post, which made me motivated enough to write up some new prompts! this means that anything from my last prompt post will no longer be valid, but hopefully you guys enjoy these even better :) and for those still waiting on their previous prompt requests, don't fret! I'm still working on all of yours :)

dialogue prompts:

"I've been wanting to kiss you for quite a while."

"You have no idea who I am, do you?"

"We cannot be friends anymore... I will always see you as something more, something else."

"No, I'm not letting you go. It's too early to get out of bed."

"Please stop talking so I can kiss you."

"You're all I can ever think about."

situation prompts:

Despite how injured you are, you still can't seem to let yourself rest.

You're on the run from a pack of orcs.

You're both hiding from something or someone.

You're an assassin sent to kill them.

You and them have gotten a little too drunk, and have begun to share secrets.

You've had a bad day, and need to rest.

here’s my middle-earth playlist

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

Hi there, I hope you have a good day 😊

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

"wishes on starlight"

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

based on this prompt post!!

Pairing: Kíli / Gender-Neutral Human Reader

Word Count: 7,367

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Rabbits?” He asked, thoroughly intrigued.

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

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

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

“Sounds rather warm and fuzzy,” he chuckled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will. I promise.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, and hungry too,” another remarked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You chuckle. “And are you?”

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

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

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

“A shame, truly.” You sighed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does he know this?” Beorn asked.

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

“You must tell him,” Beorn said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Such as where?” You asked.

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

“The moonlight?” You said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Idk if I’m doing this right but can u write fluff of some kind with dialogue prompt #1 with Kili x fem!reader? Whatever comes to mind, if not no biggie, thanks sm!!☺️

"a ‘spark’ of an idea"

author's note: this one was actually really fun, considering i decided to use an old WIP to write this! I apologize if the pacing feels a bit rushed, I've been writing while sick with covid :( (based on this post)

Pairing: Kíli / Female Human Reader

Word Count: 1,198

summary: despite being Gandalf’s apprentice, you yourself cannot conjure any magic. but that doesn’t stop you from trying to prove yourself to a certain dwarven prince...

content warnings: fire, sparks, smoking

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

“Gandalf, we have a problem.” You said, out of breath from running to hunt down the wizard.

“And I suppose you expect my aid in this issue?” The grey wizard said, blowing smoke from his pipe. Oh, how you wished a puff of the old toby would help you. But alas, this problem was bigger than simple weed from Southfarthing.

“Well yes, that was the idea,” you huffed, sitting next to him as you tried to regain your breath and your composure. You had hoped your mentor would be a little more gracious in your current time of need.

“I know very well of your problem, dear Y/N,” he said. “But it is yours to solve just as it was yours to create.” You groaned at his wisdom. Of course he already knew what you had done, he was a wizard! All wise but ever mischievous, was he. You had learned that well from traveling with him here and there as his apprentice, his aid.

“Then can you at least lend me a branch over here?” You said, a little frustrated. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Another puff came from the old grey man as he blew terrific smoky shapes into the air. “My suggestion is simple,” he said. “Put your foot in front of the other and start walking. No problem was ever solved by laying about and whining.” Rather short than his usual pep talks, but you didn’t have the energy to pry. He must have a lot on his mind, you thought.

And that’s how you found yourself storming in the direction of the forges, intent on requesting backup to help with your plan. Backup, you thought, in the form of a certain toymaker and miner.

You searched the many workstations within Erebor’s grand forges, the heat of the halls causing a heated glow about your face as you desperately worked to seek out the dwarf with twin curled braids.

“Bofur!” You called out, running to catch up with the dwarrow who seemed like he was gathering supplies for his next projects. “Bofur, I need your help. We have a problem.”

“Ah, Y/N,” the older dwarf smiled as he saw you. Always a good day to see a friend, he thought as he stopped what he was doing. “And it’s another Monday, what’s your point?”

You drew in a breath, fiddling with your hands as you swallowed your dignity to explain the situation. “So, I was playing a game with Fíli and Kíli, and we were all taking dares from one another when Kíli dared me to perform magic in front of him.” You said.

“You can do magic?” Bofur asked. You shook your head.

“Not at all!” You said. “But I couldn’t say that in front of them, so I told Kíli that if he met me here tomorrow night, I’d conjure fireworks for him.”

“Why didn’t you just tell the truth, lass?” He said.

“Because!” You whined. “You’re all master crafters and fighters and skilled in practically everything! I wanted to have some sort of special talent.”

“Oh, come now, Y/N,” he said, frowning. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re already quite special yourself, you know?”

“You don’t have to flatter me, you know,” you said, sighing. Bofur shook his head.

“I’m serious! It takes quite a deal of strength to be able to put up with those two,” he grinned, pushing you with his elbow teasingly. “Come, we can talk more in my workshop. It’s a bit stuffy in here, eh?” You nodded silently, following him.

A few twists and turns later through the great bedrock halls led you to Bofur and Bifur’s toyshop, the shelves inside littered with works in progress and completed toys of various types. Bofur set his collection of parts down on a huge table that was covered in scrolls and blueprints before he turned back around to face you, giving you his full attention.

“Now, lass,” he said. “What do you expect me to do to help you?”

You drew a breath, knowing you were going to sound crazy. “Alright, here’s my plan.”

And the stage was set! It took all day yesterday to fully plan it out with Bofur, but you were ready. And quite excited! Gods, you just couldn’t wait to see the look on Kíli’s face when you pulled this off. Now all you needed to do was keep your cool and stick to your script, which you hoped Kíli would goad you into easily.

Soon, he was meeting you at the entrance of the Great Forges, an eager grin on his face as the lights of the fires lit both of your faces. “Y/N, you won’t hold out on me, will you?” He asked with a cheeky smile, and you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, of course not! How could I dare to upset you? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go make a scene.” And with that, you turned away, quickly walking towards the forges, which were eerily quiet and empty tonight.

Kíli seemed to fall for your trap, raising a brow as he followed after you. “Where are we going?”

“Well you see, my magic is most powerful near fire,” you said, fibbing your ass off as you worried about how effective your plan would be. As soon as the two of you would enter the forge, you knew Bofur would set it in motion.

Kíli seemed to feel satisfied with this answer as he nodded. “I see, fireworks and fire makes sense.”

You nodded as well, glad he took it without question. And soon you both crossed the threshold, you threw your arms in the air, hoping Bofur would see the signal. It was time to begin.

“What are you doing?” Kíli asked, coming up close behind you.

You threw a playful smirk, trying your best not to give away how nervous you were. “I’m just warming up.”

“Then by all means,” he said, taking a step back to give you some space.

And with a big breath, it was time to begin. You rubbed your hands together, creating a warm friction as you kept up this little pretend of yours. You threw your hands up in the air, stretching your arms as high as they could go, and with a large crashing sound, sparks flew everywhere from a balcony high above. A curtain of glowing orange sparks fell on both sides of you, bouncing on the stone floors once or twice before going dimmer and dimmer, and eventually out.

Kíli’s jaw practically fell to the floor, his attention fully transfixed on you as he gazed at you with awestruck eyes. It was so beautiful to see, and so captivatingly shocking that he hadn’t moved the gears in his mind enough to try and figure out what was actually happening. For right above you two, hidden on a balcony, Bofur and Bifur were busy grinding metal as silently as possible to create such sparks as they flew down to where you and Kíli stood.

“By Durin himself,” Kíli said. “I should have never doubted you.”

“Oh, Kíli,” you replied. “The show isn’t over yet.”

If you enjoyed this piece, consider checking out my masterlist, requesting a fic of your own, or leaving a tip on my page <3

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

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

Hey all! I'll be doing this for the month of February (as well as writing all past requests), so feel free to send one in! You can even combine multiple in your request if you'd like!

Though, please note that these fics may be shorter in length to help me catch up on non-event fic requests.

Hello, Fellowship! The time has come for bingo! Those of you who were here last February will remember the Sickeningly Sweet Romantic Cliches Board we did, and these will operate in the same way. However! You get a choice between more Sweet Prompts or something a little more Spicy ;)

You can play this a couple of different ways: 

Try to go for a bingo within the month of February on either or both boards.

Or get your followers to send you asks featuring squares on the card!

Please be sure to use the tag #fotfics and submit your posts to be guaranteed to be put into the queue!

Boards are under the cut! Have fun and happy writing! 

Im rewatching the extended hobbit today and i forgot how precious kili is. He is pretty. He is slighty intimidating/epic looking when he fights. He has a good sense of humour. He might find starlight cold and distant but he is pure sunlight trapped in a body. And his laugh...😢 He is so precious its not funny

(Also side note but kili starting to struggle with his leg and the poison and no one noticing at first :( poor baby)

YOU'RE SO RIGHT. I literally have rewatched An Unexpected Journey so many times just to analyze the behaviors and traits of each individual dwarf and I use the notes when I'm struggling with characterization!! here's some I have for kíli:

He's the youngest of the group, only around 10-17 when the attack on Erebor and major displacement happened, so because of that I imagine he either doesn't remember it or didn't grow up in Erebor

He's an optimist at heart, always encouraging the group to lighten up by placing his faith in others (we see this by him standing up for Gandalf and Bilbo at dinner)

"You forget we have a wizard on our side! Gandalf would have slayed hundreds of dragons in his time!"

He's so honest and genuine despite a bit messy (he compliments Bilbo's home, asking if he did it himself)

I hate to use this term but golden retriever energy

He even tries to speak up for Bilbo when they say he isn't very burglary???

He's so fiercely loyal to fault like UGH

I love him

go request some wonderful things from this wonderful friend of mine!! look at her go!!! YEAH!!!

Waltz Of the Flowers

Thank you all for 550! This year has already been crazy and I couldn't have done it without you February 16th - February 21st

please include gender preference and era where it is needed.

Fandoms: The Summer I Turned Pretty, Six of Crows, Criminal Minds (but I am only in season 4?), Dr Who, The Outsiders, Top Gun Maverick, Harry Potter, Marauders Era, Outer Banks, Marvel (including Frank & Billy), Stranger Things, The Hobbit, The Lord of The Rings, Supernatural (up to season 11), A Court of Thorns and Roses, Vampire Diaries, The Originals

🪻ceilings - give me a few facts about yourself and I will ship you with a character, and give you a few headcanons about your relationship

🥀 Growing Sideways - cast your mutuals, would you rather, kmk, this or that, etc...

🌷 All In Due Time - give me a few facts about yourself, and I will make you a moodboard of how I perceive you

🪷 Stay Gentle - send a character and a scenario, and I'll make you a little moodboard

🌼 doomsday - give me a character and a trope, and I'll write you a little blurb or some headcanons

Tagging some mutuals:

@magic-is-beauty @teddy-the-teddybear @murdockcastleslut @mikathemonster @faerykingdom @velvetcloxds @cupids-crystals @dulcet-lover @i-is-a-fan-weeb @regulusblacksworld @faerie-of-fallen-dreams @sheraayasher @pompompurin345 @pogueswrld @idiotic-problem

<3 thank you

"candlelit treasures"

author's note: according to Google Docs, I started this one in LATE JANUARY... so yeah it's been a while. like damn. im embarrassed. but here it is guys!! I honestly got so busy and have been in and out of depressive episodes with how little personal time I now get, but it's all gonna be worth it once I get these major projects out of the way (I'm working on films)! anyways HERE'S YOUR MAN COME AND GET HIM

Pairing: Kíli / Gender-Neutral Reader

Word Count: 4,368

summary: busy days and royal duties have worn down your poor lover, so it's time to let him feel just how much you treasure him.

content warnings: nsfw, porn with a little plot if you squint, soft nsfw, cunnilingus, blowjob, penetration, pet names (starlight), riding, switch! reader, switch! kíli, whining/moaning men (my favorite), all the fun stuff <3

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

In the dimly lit room where candles illuminated what the fireplace could not, he leaned back into you, seating himself between your thighs as your fingertips ran across his scalp, massaging and playing with his hair. A sigh left his lips as he felt himself feeling more relaxed, but tension still gnawed at him from the inside. A shiver ran through him as his back met flush with your abdomen, and you stopped your ministrations, your fingers pausing amidst his brown tresses.

“You’re nervous.” You said, your voice disturbing the crackling of the fire as you observed him. It had been a little while since you two could be like this, safe and warm as you both consumed each other’s company in the silence of your shared room. Your love’s royal lineage kept him busy as of late, and so it was only on nights like this where you two could share a tender moment together.

He took a deep breath, trying to relax. “You’re very warm,” he said.

“We’ve done this countless times, Kíli,” you said, continuing what you were doing as your fingers danced in his hair, now gathering some strands to begin your braid. He gave a nervous chuckle as his head leaned into your touch, his deep brown eyes looking up at you. 

“I know, amrâlimê,” he breathed, his eyes glinting with reflections of the candles’ flame. “But this is what you do to me.” Every time, without fail, you left him breathless. Even now, as the fire danced and brightened your face, he found his heart racing and his skin on fire. He reached behind him, taking your hand that was fixed on braiding and trailing down his face, then his neck, then his chest until it was placed over his beating heart. “I cannot control it.”

You smiled, leaning down to place a kiss on his forehead, his eyes closing as he lovingly received it. It seemed as though braiding would have to wait. “Why do you still get so nervous when you’re with me?”

A small silence fell over him as he studied your face. Even in the dark, you were beautiful. You seemed to walk in a completely different world than him, made of light and warmth and strength. He had thought so ever since he had met you. “I want to be the best I can be when I’m with you,” he said. “You deserve that much.”

“Amrâlimê,” you frowned, cupping his cheek. “You have nothing to prove to me. I am and always will be yours. That is all I deserve.” You placed another soft kiss on his warm skin, his eyes closing as he exhaled from the feeling. Slowly but surely, he was beginning to relax from the stress and pressure of his life and day. 

“You are much more than I deserve,” he said, reaching a hand of his own to rest itself in your hair, his touch tender and careful. You took his hand, bringing it to your lips as you planted a kiss to each of his knuckles.

“Don’t speak so lowly of yourself, my love,” you sighed. “Or shall I prove to you once again how much you mean to me?”

A kind smile crossed his face as he now turned in place to face you from a better angle. He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your lips, then your cheek, and then finally rested his forehead against yours. “Not if I do so first,” he said, his hands now leaving yours to cup your face.

“Is that a challenge?” You raised a brow, glad to see he was beginning to actually enjoy himself.

Another kiss met your lips, and you smiled. “You’re so quick to seek competition,” he joked. “It drives me crazy.”

“Mm, is that so?” You teased, kissing his nose.

A sigh left him as he looked into your eyes, and you had never felt so safe. When you were with him, nothing else mattered. He nodded his head. “It’s hard for me to think clearly when I’m around you, my love.”

“Then don’t hold back,” you said. “Go ahead, it’s okay to give in.”

His eyes flitted back to your lips for a moment, before meeting your gaze once more. “You would let me?”

“I would let you have me in any way if it meant I could feel you here with me,” you said. He drew a breath at this comment, slowly becoming more and more entranced by you as he felt himself becoming undone by your words and implications. Once more, his eyes snaked to your lips until finally, he leaned in, placing his slightly chapped lips on your more soft ones.

Your hands wandered up from his shoulders to his neck until they finally met their destination in his brown tresses, the idea of braids long forgotten as your fingertips tangled themselves in his hair. His strong arms supported you as you leaned down to kiss him, your lips dancing together in a soft dance of reunion that the two of you hadn’t had in some time now. How long had it been since the last time? 

It felt like forever ago, but Kíli was quick to fix that as he pulled away to trail kisses all over your face. His lips peppered your cheeks, then your jawline, and then slowly he made a path down your neck, his kisses soft and full of love and admiration. He took his time taking in your skin as he placed small bites about your neck in between kisses. There was no need to rush. 

“I’ve missed you,” he groaned softly, his voice hush as his breath tickled your neck. You let out a pent-up sigh, allowing your hands to tighten their grip just a little in his hair. You felt him smile against your skin when you did this, and it made you proud. “It’s been so long, my love.”

You nodded, taking a breath. “Yes, it has.” Gently, you tugged on his hair to bring his face back to yours as you placed more kisses on his lips, savoring the taste as you took your time to enjoy this shared space between you two. “Too long.”

“Then let me make up for lost time,” he muttered, his eyes soaking you in as he pulled back and pushed you softly away from him. Your back met flush with the chair now as you looked at him in awe. He seemed to glow in the candlelight, and you had never seen such a pretty sight. He was everything to you.

Taking his time, his hands traced the shape of your figure, his warm palms traveling down your seated body until they rested themselves on top of your knees, gently pulling them apart to get you to spread your legs. Without any resistance, you gave in to his silent demands, baiting your breath as his fingers carefully snaked up your legs to meet the waistband of your trousers. Slowly, he tucked his fingers into the waistband, tugging lightly as he pulled them down. You rose a little in your seat to aid him, your eyes never leaving his pretty brown ones as you let him continue with his plan. 

As your trousers now found their place on the floor, the cool air on your legs brought a slight shiver down your spine. Kíli sat up on his knees in between your legs as he rubbed circles on your thighs, his rough hands never feeling softer on your skin. “I want to relish this, amrâlimê,” he said. “I want to take my time with you.”

He leaned down, carefully placing kisses and bites along the inner seam of your thighs, starting at your knees and working his way in, closer and closer to the one place where you were starting to feel more and more warm. His eyes never left your face, wanting to see you all breathy and dazed as he savored the taste of your skin on his tongue. Mahal knows he had missed this. He had missed you.

You knew not what to do with your hands, keeping one over your heart as the other reached down to pet his hair lovingly, adoring the way he looked beneath you. You melted into his touch, feeling yourself heating up more and more simply at the thought of what was to come. “I need you, Kíli,” you said, your voice a fell whisper in the silence of the room where only the fire’s crackling occurred. 

“I know, my love,” he smiled, his kisses coming closer and closer to where you wanted his lips. “But I need you to be patient.”

“Please,” you let out, growing weak with want and need. He knew this; he knew your body like the back of his hand. Of course, he hadn’t always been the most skillful with you, but time was a wonderful teacher. He ceased his kisses for just a moment, fingers pulling your underwear to the side so he could get a look at you. He blew cool air on your cunt, and you sighed from the feeling, but it wasn’t enough.

“I suppose just this once,” he smiled, leaning closer to you, and you could feel his warm breath on your cunt as he gazed up at you with loving eyes. Gentle were his fingers as they spread you apart, making room so his lips could place a kiss right on your hooded clit. You felt yourself twitch at the feeling for a moment, a breathy gasp leaving your lips as you gave a light laugh. Kíli beamed at you as his tongue dipped into your folds, licking a swipe along your seam as he kept his stare fixated on you.

Passionate and tender were his touches as he tasted you, already finding himself addicted to your taste. A little sweet, a little salty, but always a fine delicacy in his mind. His tongue carefully lapped you up as he ate you out, your arousal coating his lips as a mix of it and saliva dripped a little from his chin. You tried your best to keep your breathing even, small moans and whimpers leaving your throat as your hand in his hair fastened its grip, tugging lightly. He knew he was doing a good job, and it turned him on. He could feel himself growing in his trousers at the sound of your pretty voice, wanting to silence you with his lips if he wasn’t already so busy with enjoying his meal. You brought your hand that had been over your heart now over your mouth, trying to stifle the sweet sounds escaping you as you tried your best to focus on the way his doe eyes never left yours.

He groaned against you, and the vibrations from it left you bucking your hips slightly, desperate for more of his touches and breaths. “Amrâlimê, please,” he chuckled. “Don’t hide your sweet voice from me, I want to hear you so badly. I need to hear you.”

His pleading and whining tone was more than enough incentive to take your hand away from your mouth, your moans now growing louder as he became more greedy in his endeavors. With a more hurried pace, he seemed to explore you with his tongue, leaving no part untouched except where you could feel yourself needing him the most. But it wasn’t out of cruelty that he did this, rather he truly wanted to savor every little twitch and sigh and whine you gave him as he played your body like his favorite instrument.

Slowly, he added a finger, and you bucked your hips a little from the feeling, loving the way he was beginning to fill you up, though you knew you wouldn’t be satisfied from just this for long. Now wanting to egg you on, he caught your clit with his lips, swiping it with his tongue as he eagerly kept his pace, adding another finger that pumped in and out of you at a tantalizing pace. Your moans grew louder and much more frequent as he laid his attack on your most sensitive part, your head falling back from the sheer amount of pleasure as your legs tightened around him. He repositioned himself for a moment, drawing away much to your dismay as he removed your underwear and placed each of your legs upon his shoulders.

“I need you to keep them spread, my starlight,” he said, placing soft kisses on your inner thighs once more before diving back into the fray of your arousal. You gave a weak nod, barely even registering his words in your mind, for pleasure was all you knew right now. The more he lapped at your sensitive bundle of nerves, the more you could feel that familiar tight feeling growing inside of you. It was all you could think about, your mind drunk on the way his tongue danced inside of you.

And he himself was growing quite drunk as well, your juices like a forbidden candy to him. He couldn’t get enough, his fingers quickening their pace as he felt himself growing hungrier and more greedy. He truly wanted to consume you for the rest of his days, your taste so addictive on his tongue. His pants were now feeling much more constrictive, and he groaned at the feeling as he desperately wanted to replace his fingers and tongue with something else. But he was a patient man, and knew that waiting and letting this play out would be much more enjoyable and memorable for the two of you tonight.

More and more you felt that familiar and delicious tightening feeling grow inside you amidst your moans and breaths of pleasure as you tugged on his hair, pulling him closer to your heat in encouragement. “Please, oh fuck,” you said. “Please, Kíli.”

“Are you close?” He asked in between his attacks on your puffy clit, and all you could fathom to respond with was a quick nod. He smiled as his tongue swiped your insides, incredibly turned on by the notion that you could barely even think or speak from the pleasure he was bringing you. “Good.”

You were just about to ask him to go faster when you suddenly pulled him away from you by his hair, your chest heaving and that tightening feeling dissipating in a disappointed fashion as Kíli looked up at you with concerned eyes. “What is it? Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly, worrying if he had done something to displease you. You shook your head, trying to ignore how much you desperately wanted to finish already. You had other plans first. You wanted to take care of him. You could feel yourself throbbing and pulsing before you slid out of your chair and into Kíli’s lap, straddling him. His eyes searched your hungry gaze as he wondered what was going through your mind.

“No, my love,” the words finally met the air. “I just…” You trailed off, placing kisses along his stubble as you pressed yourself against his growing erection, causing a groan to leave his pretty lips, glossy from your juices. “I want to take care of you.” Your hands trailed down, one on his shoulder to stabilize yourself as the other went down to palm him through his trousers. He was painfully hard, and you smiled as his whole body shuddered from your touch. You loved the way his brows furrowed when you did this, the way his whole face seemed to contort in pleasure.

Your kisses delved lower, now peppering his neck as you made sure to leave gentle bites and marks along his dwarven skin. He leaned his head back to give you better access, propping himself on his arms. “Amrâlimê,” he said, his voice soft and full of need. “You’re too good to me.”

You smiled into his skin, bringing your lips to his ear to softly kiss his earlobe. “I know, now let me show it. Let me give you what you deserve.”

You now stood up, hovering over his body as you offered your hand out to him. He took it without hesitation, eagerly willing to follow you anywhere in Arda as you led him to your shared bed. You guided him onto it, letting him rest on top of your various pillows as he looked at you with so many emotions. Lust, love, and a pining curiosity for what you had in store.

“I want you to be comfortable, love,” you said, your words like honey as you climbed on top of him, sitting next to him as your fingers worked to loosen his trousers as you slowly pulled them off of your lover. His half-lidded eyes watched you carefully as he lifted himself to help you in your mission, his member finally freeing itself from the harsh confines of his pants. A ragged breath left him as his hard cock met the cool air, and you cast his pants to some dark and forgotten corner for now. 

Gentle were your hands as you spread his legs, seating yourself in between them before running a hand along the length of his shaft. He gasped at your touch, his eyes transfixed on the way you handled him. “You’re so good to me, Kíli,” you said as you leaned down to place a kiss on the tip of his cock, which was slick with precum. His breath hitched as he watched you, refusing to take his eyes off you. You ran your tongue along his length, flicking his swollen head with the tip of your tongue as you stared up at him. “And I want to show you how much I treasure you.”

“Amrâlimê,” he said, forgetting his words as a moan ripped out of him as you took him into your mouth, bringing your head down as you sheathed him inside of your mouth. Slowly, you brought your head back up, placing another kiss on his tip with a smile that feigned innocence.

“That’s it, let it all out. Let me hear you.” You said, taking him into your mouth again, and his hand shot down to tangle itself in your hair as you slowly bobbed your head up and down along his length, your hands massaging and stroking whatever you couldn’t reach with your throat. He threw his head back and bucked his hips up, causing you to gag. Seeing him in such pleasure only egged you on as you continued, slowly getting faster and faster but still making sure to keep it gradual. You wanted to take your time with him just as he had done with you.

His whines and groans seemed to only get more and more pleading the longer you went on, sweat forming on his forehead as he begged you to go faster. You were happy to oblige but eager to watch him moan your name some more, only increasing your pace little by little. He keened for you, bucking his hips more if only to feel his tip tickle the back of your throat, your gags and whines sending vibrations down his shaft that drove him crazy. You always looked so beautiful when his cock was in your mouth.

As a mixture of drool and precum dribbled from your lips down onto his shaft, you continued quickening your pace, your head bobbing up and down in between small twirls and flicks of your tongue on his tip, which twitched in your mouth. His body shuddered under your touch, his stomach trembling with each of your movements and his shoulders shaking. Your hands were quick to stroke the rest of his length and care for his balls as you felt your jaw going sore from your endeavors. 

The more he bucked his hips, the deeper he seemed to bully himself down your throat, and it drove him wild. You kept forcing breaths through your nose, not wanting to take a break for the sake of pleasing him. He was quickly finding that unraveling, tight feeling ball up inside him as his cries grew louder and more frantic. “Fuck, Y/N,” he moaned, his hand gripping your hair tightly. “Please, a little more…”

And quickly, he came undone. You always had this effect on him, skillful enough with your mouth that you left him a moaning mess. You eagerly swallowed every last drop he gave you as his cock twitched in your mouth, pulsing with each wave of his orgasm. His chest heaved as he tried to regain a normal breathing pattern, a soft smile on his face after you eventually swallowed around him one more time before finally bringing yourself back up for air. It felt so cool in your throat as you too tried to regain your composure.

His hand in your hair loosened its grip, now finding your scalp to offer soothing strokes and massages as a silent apology for how rough he had grabbed it. “Tell me how I taste,” he said, eyes clouded with lust as he came down from his high.

You smirked, bringing yourself to his face as you leaned over him. “Why don’t you find out for yourself, hm?” You gently took his chin, guiding your lips together in a sloppy, messy kiss. A whine erupted from his throat as you deepened the kiss with a swipe of your tongue before breaking it, a line of saliva connecting your lips.

“You never finished,” he said, his eyes taking in how beautiful you looked with his taste in your mouth, the slight sweat on your brow making you glow in front of him as he brought a hand to your clit, massaging small circles, eager to please you. 

A small whine left you, not expecting his touch so quickly as you buried your head in his neck. “I was trying to take care of you first,” you said weakly, feeling that warm feeling build up again. “I want to make you feel good.”

He hummed, a smile on his lips. “Then why don’t we share the feeling?” His hand left you, now moving your hips to guide you over his length, already hard again. You lifted your hips as he guided his cock inside you slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you. But you were eager as you lowered yourself onto his hips, sheathing himself inside you as you took his length in full. A whiny moan left his lips as you did so, completely caught by surprise at your impatience. 

“Fuck…” he whined, and your head returned to his neck to plant kisses and bites as well as hide the small moans and breaths that left you as you began to slowly rock your hips, wanting to feel him as closely as possible, craving that sweet heat of friction. He shuddered from the sudden feeling of your warmth, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he tried to steady his breathing. 

“You take me so well, starlight,” he said, his expression completely fucked out at the feeling of you squeezing him so nicely. He always looked so beautiful when he was a whining, moaning mess underneath you. A glistening sheen of sweat decorated his forehead and cheeks, his bangs sticking to him slightly as his eyelids fluttered shut for a moment. It was now that you slowly began to rock your hips against his legs, grinding into him. “Fuck… You’re so good at this.”

“Only for you,” you said with a breathy tone. “I’m all yours.” You sped up your pace little by little, relishing the way he filled you up so perfectly. You could sit like this for hours if you really wanted to, and you knew he wouldn’t complain. He loved the warm wet feeling of your cunt sucking him in. 

After a moment of enjoying your movements, Kíli joined you, bucking his hips into you slowly as you began bouncing on his cock, desperately chasing the delicious friction of the current situation. His fingers dug into your hips hard enough that you were sure they would leave bruises later, but that was the least of your worries as you sought to bring this man underneath you undone. With a vice on your hips, he guided you up and down his shaft, the funny feeling from earlier bubbling inside him as he wanted nothing but his release now. Nothing but this moment between you as he broke his moans with soft praises that were meant for only you and nobody else.

“Please,” he begged with a breathy tone. “Harder, please keep going.”

A smile met your lips, feeling proud of how easily you could have this man unraveled beneath you. You lived for this feeling and you couldn’t get enough. Happy to comply with his request, you kept your pace steady as you brought yourself down on him with more force, which was only more enjoyable for both of you as a plethora of pleasurable sounds left your lips. It was feeling so good, so nice, so delicious. Words were hard to form in your mind as you tucked your head in the crook of his neck, biting down and leaving your mark on your world.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he found himself lost in the feeling of how wonderfully you pulsed and squeezed around him. “Please, more…”

You two kept at this for a few more minutes before he quickly came undone, your name ripping from his throat as his brows furrowed in the feeling of his release as he filled you up inside. But you still hadn’t finished yet, and he was ever the gentleman, now slamming you on his length with the last bit of composure and strength he had as you eventually came undone on top of him, your breathing uneven as whines left you and into his ear.

“Had enough yet, love?” You teased warmly, head still hiding in his neck as you tried desperately to regain your breathing as you came down from your high.

“No,” he whispered, his voice laced with lust and want. “Please, amrâlimê… I need more.”

A weak chuckle left you, knowing all too well that this was just the beginning for both of you.

Hi! I love your writing, would you be able to do prompt 5 "Please stop talking so I can kiss you." With kili? much love x

"traced feelings"

author's note: wow. it's short but this piece really brought me out of the abyss for a second. sorry I've basically dropped dead on the face of the earth when it comes to writing, but hopefully this is enough to feed you guys for now <3

Pairing: Kíli / Gender-Neutral Reader

Word Count: 1,226

summary: while you admire the view for your sketches, Kíli admires an entirely different view

content warnings: fluff

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

It was long sunny days like this where Kíli felt as though he could sit in the grassy knolls with you forever, the shadow of Erebor behind you two as you sketched little drawings of the nearby flowers in your book. This was one of the many times Kíli had met you here, enjoying the stillness with you in your favorite place to relax, and now your favorite place to come to because of a certain dwarven prince.

Sometimes, he’d ask you thousands of questions just to hear the sound of your voice mingle with the wind and grace his ears. And though he genuinely listened, it was hard for you to tell with the way he would gaze at you with a dreamy look in his eye. But you never could complain, not when you admired the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed or smiled. It was a precious time you two spent together despite the unspoken growing feelings you had begun harboring for one another.

Here you were with him, the clouds peppering the sky and giving you moments of breezy shade followed by the gentle winds from the mountain; Kíli had come soon after you had set up your spot under a tall oak tree, some water and art supplies by your side as you had come today to sketch and rest your mind for a little. Like clockwork, he had memorized your favorite times to come out and enjoy the sunshine. The flowers around you were in full bloom as they ebbed and flowed against the breeze, mingled with the weeds and grass.

“Did I keep you waiting?” He had asked before seating himself, laying the grass across you as he gave you a warm smile.

“Not at all, I was simply admiring the view,” you shook your head, turning your sketchbook around to show it to him. It was a simple drawing, still quite early in its birth, but it made him smile.

“Is that so? I could give you another view if you’d like,” he said, a teasing tone in his voice as he stretched out among the soft green grass. You laughed but kept your gaze fixed to your sketch to avoid blushing. 

“As lovely as that would be, I’m not sure you could handle being my muse,” you replied with an amused voice, the soft scribbling sound of your pencil filling your mind as you carefully etched the softness of the flower petals into the landscape on your page. 

“You wound me, Y/N,” he said, his hand coming to his heart to feign hurt. “And I thought we were friends, truly.”

“We are, Kíli,” you said. “Which is why I’m being honest with you.”

“Well, go on then. Tell me why I would make a terrible muse,” he spoke, pressing you for more information as he admired the way the wind played with your hair. Your gaze was still pressed to your drawing, which gave him plenty of opportunity to appreciate your beauty. 

You chuckled, rolling your eyes with a slight scoff. “Alright then. For starters, you never sit still,” you began, speaking slowly in between strokes of your pencil. Now the trees and the little pond were coming into view on your thick page, the scene truly coming together as you outlined the clouds in the background. This piece was almost done, you thought to yourself. “Everytime you sit with me, you fidget about like a little dog.”

“I do not!” He gasped, though he did so while twirling the grass between his fingers, their green blades intertwined in his grasp. He looked so beautiful, you thought, as he rolled around among the grass and the weeds and the flowers.

“My point exactly.” You smiled, and it was just as radiant as a flower to him. In this forested field full of flora and fauna and all of nature’s beautiful creations, you were the prettiest flower in the entire glade.

“You always move around, I can never get you to sit still,” you continued. “Even when you had me paint your portrait, it took so long because you can only sit still for a little while at a time.” In truth, Kíli’s commissioned portrait had taken quite some time for you to complete, and it was completely and utterly his fault. But what you didn’t know is that he had purposely made the process much longer than necessary as a means of being able to be so close to you on a routine basis. “And then when you do sit down for me, you always keep cracking jokes to make me laugh.”

“Would you prefer me to be melancholy?” He asked, his smile growing but his eyes seeming distant as he couldn’t do anything besides look at you. But he didn’t feel far away, no. He felt almost too close, as if he could see all of you right now as the wind brushed around you two. It was intimate.

“Not at all,” you shook your head. “I adore your jokes. But it’s hard to paint or sketch or carve or anything when I’m too busy laughing at something you’ve said or done. You’re very mischie–”

“Please stop talking so I can kiss you,” he muttered, staring into your eyes in a wistful trance, and it was more than enough to stop your thoughts completely.

“I’m sorry?” You responded, completely taken aback by his soft-spoken statement. It seemed he too was startled, eyes widening as if he had just realized that he had such a thing out loud. He hadn’t meant to, in all honesty; his thoughts had just become far too loud. And you were also quite caught off-guard, finally caught out of your sketching to look at him face to face. Silence fell over you for a second as your grip loosened around your pencil, and suddenly Kíli was all too aware of what he had just uttered.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to–” He began, but you quickly abandoned your art supplies, tossing them aside as you shuffled closer to him, your hands now resting on the sides of his face as you looked deep into his dark eyes.

“Did you mean it?” You asked, wanting clarification before you went any further in your current impulsive display.

“What?”

“Did you mean it? Can I kiss you?” You asked again, now growing a small worry that his question had been ingenuine.

His lips cracked quickly into a smile as his eyes danced between your eyes, your hair, your lips, and then your eyes again. “Mahal, yes. Yes, you can.” He breathed out, an airy laugh ringing in your ears before you leaned in and pressed your chapped lips to his gentle ones, your eyes closed as you pressed yourself closer to him with his face in your hands. Eager to accept your feelings, his hands snaked their way to rest along the curve of your waist, his touch gentle as he massaged small circles with his thumbs, wanting to enjoy this moment for however long it lasted.

And within a moment, you pulled away. Your cheeks felt warm as you could do nothing else but look at the beautiful dwarf in front of you. His cheeky smile returned, a brow raising in amusement. “You don’t suppose we could do that again, do you?”

pride and prejudice but in Erebor. what if i wrote that. 👀

quick! LOTR nerds! use this thread to info dump with your favorite Tolkien fact or note! I'll go first:

Good Ol' JRRT wrote Fíli as younger than Kíli in The Hobbit, but based on their canonical birth years, Kíli is actually younger by five years. :)

thank you, and pass it on!

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

"ashes to ashes"

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

Pairing: Fíli / Gender-Neutral Reader

Word Count: 21,440

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It seemed the conversation was moving straight to business. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gandalf cleared his throat. “And then what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, thank you,” you said. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fíli,” he bowed. “At your service.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dwalin won’t do it.” Kíli said. 

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

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

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

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

“And I’m assuming you declined?” 

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

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

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

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

“I do not!”

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

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

“You owe me for this,” Fíli huffed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you close with him?” You asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was your new life now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? No, not at all,” you waved him off. “Sorry… I’ve never been made for mornings.”

“Or afternoons, it seems.” He frowned. “I’ll leave these here with you, then.”

You took the clothes from him with a nod, staring at the naturally dyed linens in your hands. “I don’t suppose I could bathe before I change into these, could I?”

He cleared his throat, shifting from foot to foot. He seemed either willing to leave or as if he were reaching the end of his patience with you. You didn’t like either option.

“I could show you around to the baths, if you’d like.”

“Baths? There’s multiple?” You raised a brow, confused.

“Well yes, they’re public. There has to be multiple for a city like this. It would wreak havoc if there was only one.” He looked at you as if you were the crazy one, and it wasn’t making the situation any less awkward.

“And they’re open right now?” You spoke slowly, trying to process this information.

“Of course they are, they never close. That would be even worse than having only one.” 

You didn’t have the energy to even inquire as to why that would be worse, not wanting your ignorance to be seen as stupidity. “Are they busy this time of day?”

Fíli looked away, thinking to himself before he answered. “If you’re looking for privacy, then you’re better off going in the wee hours when everyone’s asleep. I believe that should answer your question better?”

You nodded. “It does… Would you be willing to take me later?”

He sighed, pondering the idea. It was certainly a tall ask for a dwarf who had already told you he likes his beauty sleep. “Tonight. But learn the path so you can take yourself next time. Don’t need anyone getting any wrong ideas, least of all my brother.”

You smiled in relief at the thought of a bath. You could certainly tough up the dirt for a few more hours. “You have my thanks.”

“Anyways, it’s best we make use of the day for you. Uncle told me to show you around today so you don’t get lost.” He nodded, shifting again from foot to foot. He was eager to do more than just watch after some stranger, you could tell. A part of you felt bad he had gotten stuck with watching you, but this was what Thorin’s terms were. 

“Understood. I’ll get changed then. I’ll be out in a moment.” You shut the door on him, laying your new clothes out on your bed. Even if you couldn’t bathe right away, wearing clean clothes would certainly help boost your spirits. 

There was certainly one thing you appreciated about dwarven clothes, and that was the sheer size of them. You were certain that any of these tunics would fit a tad oversized, which was a nice break from your form-fitting clothes from back home. You slipped your alabaster-toned tunic on, the sleeves running a bit short on you as you adjusted the fabric. And the pants were no better; they stopped halfway down your calves. But you found the odd fit charming rather than upsetting, glad to simply be wearing something clean. 

You tucked your tunic in, tying your old belt around the waist to keep your pants from sagging or possibly falling, and for the first time in your journey, you actually felt comfortable. Indeed, now that you had spent a night in your new home, you were beginning to see things in a much cozier light, despite how scary the new surroundings could seem. 

You opened the door, stepping out into the hall with Fíli, now a little more ready for the day despite the ache in your body and the headache wearing on. 

“Lead the way.”

Hours had gone by and Fíli had dragged you nearly the entire length of the kingdom. At least, that’s what it felt like. The entire day seemed to go on with him showing you the forges or the market or the grocer, spewing information at you like some tour guide from hell. Granted, that wasn’t to say that Fíli was hellish, but rather you were finding it impossible to retain all off this information in one day.

Now you two were headed to the Library of Records, where all of Erebor’s historical texts resided. All the hallways seemed to blend in with one another, but Fíli didn’t seem too bothered by your aloofness. You were grateful he was being patient with you, or as patient as a dwarf on a mission could be. 

“You’ll have to start pulling your weight in some way here, otherwise you’ll starve,” he explained as you two turned a corner.

“As in?”

“You’ll need to get a job, surely.” 

You chewed the inside of your cheek, thinking. “I don’t have any skills that would be of use here. I’m not a blacksmith or a miner or even a farmer.”

“Then what did you do back home?” Fíli raised a brow, shocked.

His question seemed to shock you as well. Indeed, what did you do? Now that you actually thought about it, you never had to do anything; your father had provided everything for you. Other than wandering the streets to escape the tension in your home, you didn't do much in your youth besides reading and painting.

“I painted?” You said, but it came out as more of a question, as if you were asking if your answer was acceptable.

It seemed enough to surprise Fíli. “Portraits?”

“And landscapes. I especially liked painting flowers.” The thought brought a small smile to your face.

“Were you any good?” He asked.

“My mother thought so.” You muttered, a bittersweet feeling tugging at your heart now. You knew there was no longer a home for you in Gondor, but it didn’t stop you from missing parts of it.

“That’s good, then.” He nodded, leading you up a staircase.

“It is?” You asked.

“There’s plenty of us here that don’t have the money to pay for things, especially after so much of the King’s Vault went towards construction costs. The economy here has been a tad unorthodox since the days of the dragon, so many people trade instead.” He explained. You quickly caught on that he gestured with his hands often while speaking.

“Trade?”

“Like for example, this morning I traded a dagger I had made for the clothes you’re wearing.”

You looked down at your outfit, now seeing it in a new light. “And that was enough?”

He nodded. “People need things, especially in Erebor and Dale. The dragon took so much from us that we’ve learned to take what we can get. I reckon you could trade some of your paintings if you got back into practice.”

You hummed, rolling the idea over in your mind. “You really think so?”

“Oh, absolutely. Especially the elder dwarrowdams at the market, they can’t resist a new decoration for their homes.” He grinned at the thought. “We can get you some supplies later.”

You gave a soft smile in return. “I’d like that very much.”

The day was truly wearing you down now; between all the walking and your headache, you felt absolutely spent. You and Fíli had already visited the market twice, where he had traded more of his own wares to buy you some basic painting supplies. There hadn’t been very much to choose from, but even the small colors he had supplied you with were more than you could have asked for on your second day here. 

Now, thankfully, he had given you a break from walking after you subtly voiced your complaints, letting you two enjoy the quiet and solitude of one of Erebor’s many libraries. 

“This one has already been restored,” Fíli explained. “Nobody will bother you here.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, rubbing your temples as you tried to mitigate your pain. “Thank you, Fíli.”

He gave a silent nod before setting his things down at the scribing table you had sat at and meandering the shelves, reading the spines of tomes and scriptures that decorated the shelves. 

Guilt picked at your brain as you studied his moving figure. Eavesdropping on his conversation last night hadn’t given you any sort of solace with the fact that this wasn’t a position he had chosen. Then again, any bodyguard assigned to you wouldn’t have been because they chose it; it was the King’s orders. It was the deal provided to you and Gandalf by Thorin. But something about the situation still didn’t sit right in your mind. The last thing you wanted to be was a burden to another stranger.  

“Fíli,” you mused under your breath as you thought, but it hadn’t been quiet enough.

Fíli peered around a bookshelf. “Did you say something?”

Your mouth hung open for a second, searching for words. Perhaps this was as good a time as any to sprinkle in some friendly conversation. 

“Sorry, I was just thinking to myself,” you explained.

“I see,” he nodded. “Anything I should be aware of?”

You thought for a moment, thinking of what you should ask him.

“I suppose I was wondering what you’d be doing if you weren’t here with me,” you said, picking at your cuticles as a nervous habit.

“As in my normal day-to-day?” He asked. You nodded, clarifying.

He cleared his throat. “Well let’s see… I think I’m usually with my brother around this time; we’ve been helping with deliveries this week in the Forges.”

“Deliveries?” You set your hands back down, taking interest.

“Meals and supplies, mostly. Though I think Bofur and Nori are helping him out right now.” 

“Are you and your brother close?” 

He smiled, breathing in before he spoke. “More than anything. Though if you ask me, sometimes I’d say we’re too close.”

You raised an eyebrow at this, taking his openness as an opportunity to learn more about him. “How so?

“Sometimes we get each other caught up in rather… tough situations,” he laughed. “One of us is always covering for the other in times of need because we know the other wouldn’t dare say no.”

“Like what?” You smiled at the thought of relying so strongly on someone like a sibling. It certainly must come in handy.

Fíli seemed caught off guard by this question, looking away as he answered. “My brother wasn’t too keen on watching over you, so I took over…”

You already knew that but for some reason, hearing it still hurt a little as guilt ate away at you. Fíli looked back at you and could somehow tell, his expression quickly growing sympathetic.

“It’s nothing personal, I can assure you.” He waved his hands again as he apologized.

You gave a small nod and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I assumed. I wouldn’t be too keen to be in your situation, either.”

A short silence fell over the both of you as the awkward tension set in. What were you supposed to say after that? 

Luckily, Fíli seemed to want to keep the ball rolling. You appreciated that he seemed to be putting in the effort.

“What do you think you’ll paint first, now that you have some supplies?” He gestured to the leather pouch you had set on the table, full of brushes and paints.

You looked down at the pouch, sighing. It was a good question and one you didn’t have an answer to.

“I’m not really sure,” you said. “I usually always used references back home. Sometimes I’d be out for hours just sitting in the field I was painting so I could make it as accurate as possible.”

“You also did portraits though, right? Would my likeness help?” He smirked. “I’ve been told I add charm to any portrait.”

Caught off guard by his sudden flirtatious comment, you rolled your eyes. “Like I said, I prefer landscapes. I also don’t paint people I just met.”

He waved you off. “It was a jest, don’t get all smart with me now.” He sighed, chuckling to himself. “My mother would be grateful if you did, though.”

“Your mother?” You raised a brow.

“She’s attempting to have me start courting some of the dams here, and apparently it starts with a good portrait.” He fiddled with the beaded braids of his beard. “I’ve always preferred someone’s real face, though. Paintings can hide so much.”

“You’ve never seen an honest painting, then.” You scoffed, then immediately caught yourself. “Sorry.”

He smiled softly, looking at you with an expression in his eyes that you couldn’t discern. “Speak your mind, I won’t complain.”

You laughed through your nose, running a hand through your hair as you cracked your neck and stretched. Perhaps this dynamic between you two wasn’t going to be as awkward as you thought.

Now two weeks into your stay, you had found yourself in a familiar routine alongside Fíli. Mornings you had to yourself, often going to the market to find something to eat while Fíli would be running his own errands elsewhere. He’d rejoin you in the afternoon, teaching you how to defend yourself in the privacy of the royal family’s training halls. Then at night, the two of you would share a meal. Kíli would often join you two for dinner before parting ways, usually ending with you retiring to the bathhouses.

Your free time had also allowed you to begin painting again; most of your pieces were studies of your room or the market. Being able to tap back into your hobby had immensely helped you grow comfortable in Erebor, as you allowed yourself to have something familiar in a kingdom so unknown. Just like Fíli suggested, you had even begun trading your artwork at the market, often painting personal portraits that older dwarrowdams requested for their husbands. 

You also began to keep a diary — though you refused to call it that. Rather than being addressed to the journal, you started each entry with ‘Dear Fíli’. It was silly and you hoped he would never find it, but you found it much easier to write your accounts if they were addressed to a person. And being that he was the only person you really spoke to these days, save for his brother, it felt convenient. 

Speaking of Fíli, your attention was drawn from the latest sketch you were working on as three soft knocks sounded on your door. You could tell it was him based on how he knocked at this point, bidding him entry as you erased a small mistake in your outline. 

He opened your door, walking in to admire the sketch behind you. “What’s this one going to be?”

“The dam who runs the spice stall, Bralva,” you spoke, careful to keep your pencil strokes light. 

“I don’t recall her hair being that red,” he mused. 

“She has trouble washing it, it’s much shinier when it’s clean,” you said. He hummed in response. 

“How were your deliveries?” You asked, setting your pencil down finally as you faced him. 

“Short and quick, thankfully,” he sighed. “I had some extra time afterwards, so I managed to stop by Bombur’s bakery and order some pastries.”

You perked up at the idea of sweets. “What kind?”

“That’s for you to know later. Consider them as an incentive for training today.” He grinned. 

You sighed, thinking of how sore you were just from yesterday’s training. You had already quickly learned a lot about Fíli in these two weeks, including his tenacity for training. Even though you knew he was pulling his punches, he was still a formidable enemy. 

“Is it time for that already?” A groan escaped your lips as you thought of dodging his attacks for another two hours. 

“Practice is better when it’s consistent, Y/N. Besides, you’re doing great so far.” He waved your complaints off. “Just think of the fresh pastries!”

Another thing you had learned about Fíli was despite the fact that he was the Crown Prince, he was almost entirely as immature as his younger brother, and even cockier to boot. He always asked when the next portrait you drew would be of him; when you told him you didn’t plan on doing so, he’d claim it was because his looks were too powerful to contain in any art medium. He always said it in a joking tone, of course, but you knew a part of him meant it. It almost made you want to paint him perfectly out of spite. Almost.

“Alright, fine. Let’s get a move on,” you said, putting away your pencils.

“Fix your stance, it’s too weak,” Fíli reminded you for the umpteenth time before kicking your legs from under you.

You crashed onto the floor once again, your body both sore and numb from the repeated falls onto the floor. You were grateful it was carpeted and not the solid stone of the mountain.

“If you would just give me the time to do so,” you trailed off, quickly getting back on your feet in enough time to dodge a swing of his fist. You used the momentum of his swing to push and turn him around, but he only stumbled for a moment.

He was a seasoned warrior, after all. And you were just some cushiony noble who hadn’t fought a day in their life.

“Time is short in combat,” he instructed, quickly dodging a kick from you as you tried to draw him further away from you. “Your opponent isn’t going to give you a time out just because you need to readjust your feet.”

You stepped back as he now approached you, aiming targeted punches that barely missed your chest and shoulders as you haphazardly dodged and redirected them. “Then maybe you should try and teach me something new instead of constantly knocking me do–”

And down went your body back onto the floor due to Fíli’s attacks. You groaned, this time writhing on the ground instead of quickly returning to your feet. You were growing tired of dodging and bobbing and falling and weaving through his assaults.

Perhaps it was out of pity or sympathy, but it seemed Fíli was also ready to take a break as he grabbed his waterskin and took a drink. You watched him from the floor as his back was turned to you; it seemed you finally had an opening now.

Quietly, you crawled nearer until you reached with outstretched arms to grab his ankle, pulling it instantly towards you. With a grunt of surprise, he stumbled back and you were all too ready to express your victory. But gravity took over as he plummeted backwards now, falling on top of you in a tangle of limbs and pain. 

You had won, but at what cost?

You winced in pain, having hit your head on impact as a groan left your lips. You were also now soaked with the blood of your second victim: Fíli’s waterskin. This didn’t feel like a victory. 

Even Fíli needed a moment before he could even move, groaning in pain as he tried to readjust himself off of you. “What was that supposed to be?”

“A small win,” you said, rubbing the back of your head in pain. 

“And was it worth it?” He laughed weakly. 

You rolled your eyes, refusing to look at him. “Oh, shut up.”

Suddenly, you felt a new hand massaging the back of your head. You quickly turned to see Fíli kneeling beside you, checking you for injuries. 

“Did you hit it?” He asked, inquiring about your head. 

You couldn’t even speak, instead giving him a small nod. 

Gods, you must’ve really hit your head! Why else were you finding yourself flustered when a wet, warm and roguishly handsome dwarf was this close to you? And looking at you with such care in his eyes? Wait, did you say handsome?

He leaned back, retracting his hand as he stood up, offering you a hand to help. You tried your best to snap out of your trance, but it was proving to be harder than expected. Had he always looked this good when you two were training? Had his muscles always glowed in his sweaty state? 

Gods. You thought you might have a concussion at this rate.

“I think it’s best we call it a night for now,” he frowned, quickly grabbing the pastries from earlier. “Let’s get some food in you and then have your head checked out.”

You furrowed your brows, confused. “What? No, it’s fine, I’ll just need—“

“It could be serious, Y/N.” Fíli’s tone held firm. “These floors aren’t exactly soft.”

Finally, you were coming back to your senses. There was no point in arguing either, not with the serious look he was giving you. “Okay. Let’s go and eat.”

After dinner, Fíli had taken you straight to the infirmary, not wasting a moment to get your head checked out. You were thankful for his swiftness too, feeling quite dizzy after dinner. Your vision seemed to focus in and out and your head was throbbing. Fíli had to help walk you to the infirmary, his stony expression not helping your emotions in your fugue state.

“You bruised your head,” the medic had told you, his tone stern as his fingers tangled themselves in your hair to look at your scalp. “Not too bad; there's no blood. We'll need to be weary of the severity, these things are hard to treat when they’re serious. You’ll have to be put on rest for at least a week.”

“A week?” You had asked with a frown. 

“If the pain or your vision gets worse then it’ll have to be even longer. Come back and see me immediately if that’s the case..” The medic shuffled over to his shelves of dried herbs, gathering a collection in a sachet for you as he spoke.

“How serious could it be?” Fíli asked.

“It’s hard to tell with bumps on the head,” the medic replied. “Especially when there isn’t any blood. My uncle couldn’t speak for months because of it. And I know you're aware of Bifur's case.” 

“Then what do you suggest I do?” You asked, ignoring the mention of Bifur. You’d have to ask Fíli about that later if you could remember. 

The medic finished his rummaging, now placing ten sachets of herbs in a small pouch before giving it to you. “Brewed in a tea, these should help with the pain. I can always give you more, but try to use them sparingly.”

“And I suppose sparring is out of the question?” Fíli already knew the answer but he asked so you could hear it. 

“Very much so. Nothing strenuous on the mind or the body for the next week. Consider yourself with a lot of free time to do nothing in the coming days,” the medic said. “Remember: if the pain or your vision worsens over the week, come and see me. I pray it won’t be that serious — the bruise is very faint.”

And now here you were, lying in your bed and staring at the open ceiling of your canopy, your head throbbing in pain. You had hoped lying down would’ve provided any solace, but with your dizziness and blurry vision, it didn’t seem to help much. 

“Here, drink this.” Fíli handed you a mug of some dark and musty smelling liquid. You winced upon smelling it. “Come on, it’ll help. You heard him.”

You sat up, receiving the mug and immediately closing your eyes to avoid the nausea. “How fast will it work?”

“You won’t know until you drink it, Y/N.”

You didn’t have the time, patience or energy to argue, bringing the mug to your lips and drinking. You were grateful Fíli hadn’t brewed it too hot; it was the perfect temperature not to scald you. 

“Thank you again,” you breathed, opening your eyes again. Fíli had gone through the trouble to help you back to your room and brew your tea for you, checking on you constantly. “For everything.”

“I’m just doing my duty,” he assured you as he blew out some of the candles in your room, making it dimmer. “There. Bright enough to see but not enough to blind. Is that better?”

You nodded. “Much. You’re so good at this.”

“I’ve had to help my mother tend to Kíli more than a few times in my youth,” he chuckled. “He was never as good as me when it came to climbing trees. Sure knew how to fall, though.”

“Did he ever have a bruised head like me?”

“Oh, he’s had it worse than you, believe me. He’s almost died before.” His tone was softer as he spoke. 

“That sounds much nicer than living with this,” you gestured to your head. 

Fíli smiled softly, sitting on your storage chest. “There’s no need for morbid jokes like that; you’re not dying.”

It sure felt like it. The throbbing was constant, like soldiers marching right on top of your brain. You were sure you’d wake up the next day with footsteps all over you. 

Thankfully, your vision had settled a little with the dimmer light. “I think I’ll be going to bed soon,” you sighed. 

Fíli shook his head. “Not yet, not until your symptoms improve with the tea. That’s what the medic said. That’s how we’ll know if you’re actually alright to sleep.”

“But it’s been hours since then,” you said. “I’m so tired.” 

“And you can sleep soundly once you’ve started feeling better. That’s an order.”

You waved him off, knowing it was impossible to argue with him. He was so many things, and stubborn was one of them. Cocky, immature and stubborn. 

“I’ll keep you company until anything improves.” He said, watching you take another gulp of the tea.

Cocky. Immature. Stubborn.

Cocky. He had kept overpowering you in training today, knocking you down all the time as a means of teaching you to dodge better. Maybe it was the pain making you bitter, but you still felt sore about today’s training. Very sore.

Immature. He had knocked you down multiple times, all with his own special comedic timing. Prick.

Stubborn. And now, after all of this, he wouldn’t leave your side; you weren’t even sure of how long it would be for. Great.

But you knew you were just being delusional. Sure, he was often teasing you about your portraits or overpowering you in training, but he hadn’t been that way since your injury. It was like you were seeing a whole new side to him. He was making your tea and helping you get to the medic. He was even staying by your side to keep you company and keep an eye on your symptoms. 

Maybe it was the head injury, but you were starting to think that he cared, even if just a little. 

You took another gulp, rolling your eyes at your own inner monologue. It was definitely the head injury.

Everything about your mandated rest only seemed to frustrate you. Sure, you could do everything that you normally could do before, save for training, but having to go to sleep with musty tea and headaches every night wasn’t exactly paradise.

You often resigned yourself to your room for most of the day, painting out of stress or frustration at the fact that this injury was taking so long to heal. You had tried walking around in the markets to get some steps in, but the bright lights and noise of the vendors’ stalls only irritated your mind more. For that reason you often spent time hiding away in libraries for fresh air when you were sick of your room’s four walls.

Fíli was around less, too; with you out of commission, he had taken on more deliveries and visited you less. As your bodyguard, he was still obligated to be by your side, but you had agreed it would be easier if he wasn’t sitting in your room all day with you. He had duties, after all. In these last five days, you wouldn’t see him until he joined you in the late afternoon, bringing dinner with him for you two to share a meal. 

You had come to appreciate this sentiment greatly. It was amazing how much some friendly interaction seemed to help you, especially when he was always checking in on how you were feeling. Like clockwork, you would find your painting sessions interrupted by the smell of fresh food and conversation. But once he would retire to his own room, the boredom would attack again.

Despite the boredom the healing process brought you, it wasn’t all for naught. Your vision had already gone back to normal and you found yourself less and less dizzy as the days went on by. But the throbbing in your head (while much less than before) was constant and it drove you mad. Sleeping at night had become a tall task; at times it felt as though the tea wasn’t proving to be as strong as it had in the beginning. 

Tonight was another sleepless night, the candle dripping wax as it lit up the newest journal entry you were writing; you had been making many entries to help you journal through this tough time. Most of them were about your injury or your boredom, but tonight was different.

This one was about Fíli. In fact, the last one had also been about Fíli. It was starting to become a pattern for you due to a rather unfortunate circumstance. 

You were having dreams about him. 

Maybe it was your concussion or the fact that you found yourself lonely every now and again in the night but you kept finding yourself dreaming of Fíli. 

You chalked it up to your mind trying to find something distracting to cure your endless fits of boredom, opting to write these dreams and feelings down as a means of getting them out of your head.

You set your pencil down, reading over the first page.

Dear Fíli,

I awake to thoughts of you yet again. Have you always looked like firelight, or have the effects of my headaches finally caught up to me? Your hair is that of melted glass. I dearly want to touch it. Wrap my fingers in it. I wonder if it is soft. I wonder if you are soft.

All too quickly, you found yourself disturbed by what you had written. This was insane! You felt crazy writing about how pretty the dwarf looked in your dreams. Nothing about this felt normal to you, all of it felt foreign, especially the dreams you were having.

Flustered, you put away your letter, hoping the thoughts would leave your mind if the reminders were out of sight. You were just lonely, right? Lonely and isolated due to needing rest, that was all.

Knock, knock, knock!

You jumped in your seat, a hand flying to your chest as Fíli’s knocks startled you out of your thoughts. Quickly, you made sure the letters were well hidden under your painting supplies before you opened the door, trying your best to look as normal as possible.

“Fíli? Is something the matter?” You furrowed your brows, confused on why he would be here so late in the night. You two had already eaten dinner and parted your separate ways.

He grinned, holding another bag of pastries in his hands. He must’ve visited Bombur again. “I bring good news. May I come in?”

You opened the door wider before returning to your bed. Fíli made himself comfortable on your storage chest. “The bakery is open this late?”

He chuckled, handing you a fresh pastry, the smell bringing a smile to your face. “Bombur’s pulling an all nighter to make sure his stock is ready for tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow night?” Your mouth was full of food as you spoke, quickly covering your mouth as you chewed and swallowed. “What’s tomorrow?”

Fíli’s eyes widened, looking at you as if you had hit your head. Oh, the irony.

“Haven’t you heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Mahal, did I not tell you?” He genuinely seemed flabbergasted and your curiosity was wearing thin.

“Fíli, what on earth is it?” You asked.

“There’s a banquet tomorrow night, Y/N. Everyone’s been talking about it at the market.” He finally took a bite of his own pastry, the heavenly scent permeating the room.

“I haven’t been to the market in two days, you knew that,” you rolled your eyes, but the idea of a banquet piqued your interest greatly. “What’s the banquet for?”

“Brothers from the Iron Hills have come to visit, my cousin Dain included. They’ve come to see the progress Uncle has made to restore our home.” He took another bite, relishing the taste. You found yourself too fixated on watching him eat. “You’ll come, won’t you?”

You shook your head free of its weird thoughts. “Tomorrow? I’m not sure.” 

You frowned, worried about your injury. Banquets were gloriously regal but often full of bright lights and noises, both of which you still weren’t well enough to tackle.

“Are you going?” You asked, wondering if he’d be leaving your side tomorrow if you chose not to attend.

“I have to, at least for a little while. Thorin has Kíli and I give Dain a tour of the Forges before it starts.” He leaned back, getting comfortable. “After that, we’ll probably escape to meet the rest of the boys.”

You raised a brow. “Who?”

“Everytime we hold a banquet, Kíli and I socialize for a little while before sneaking off to our own hiding spot. At first it was to avoid our mother hunting down suitors for us, but now it’s become a tradition.” He chuckled. “We’ve even got Threl and Ori meeting us up there now, and I think Kíli has invited Gloín’s son, Gimli.”

You laughed. “The princes of Erebor don’t like to party? I find that quite hard to believe.”

“Oh, quite the opposite.” He threw a wink your way, flustering you as you quickly stuffed your face to hide it. “But it’s hard to have fun when your mother and uncle keep making you dance with every dwarrowdam within sixty miles. So, we have to get crafty!”

“What did you do last time?” You asked, your voice stuffed with food. Your manners had been loosening up while staying here.

“We snuck three barrels of mead with Bofur’s help,” he smiled at the thought. “It cost us three of his shifts but it was worth it. This year’s going to be much different, though.”

“Different?” You finished your pastry. “How so?”

“Well, now it’s more than just my brother and I. We’ve got three others joining us this time, and Kíli wants to spend the night playing drinking games, but that’s because he thinks he can outdrink Gimli.”

“Can –?”

“Not at all.”

You laughed, imagining all of the shenanigans a drunken prince could get into. You barely knew Kíli, having eaten with him only a handful of times, but he gave the vibe of a mischievous drunkard. 

“You’ll have a great time if you come,” he said. “And it’ll give you some freedom from your room.”

“I’m just worried,” you tucked a loose strand of hair away, feeling anxious. “I don’t want to risk anything with my headaches right now. Lights and noises have only been making it worse.”

You wanted to go, to socialize with someone, anyone. But there were simply too many risks, too many worries.

He tossed you another pastry, making you look over at him.

“Come, even if just for a moment,” he said. “The minute you don’t feel well, I’ll bring you to your room myself. But getting out of here would do you some good, Y/N. You’re getting uneasy.”

Your eyes widened, worried. Had he seen your letters? “How do you know that?”

“Y/N.” His tone was flat as he gestured to your room. “I don’t mean to offend, but look at the state of the place.”

Oh. That’s what he had meant. You sighed out of relief as you bit into the pastry. The midnight snack was doing wonders right now despite the fact that he had pointed out how messy your room was getting. 

“Fair enough.”

Almost twenty-four hours later, your room was back to its usual state and it was already improving your mood greatly. Maybe your mother had been right about nagging you to clean your room as a child. Your mind felt cleaner now that your room didn’t mirror its mess. 

And speaking of a clear mind, last night had been the first night of decent sleep in a while. No weird dreams, no restlessness, and you woke up feeling especially refreshed. Noises were still bothering you, which you had discovered while getting breakfast down at the market, but lights were a lot less irritating. 

This was good, as Erebor was brighter than it had ever been; metal lanterns hung on every corner of the kingdom, lighting the market and the great halls as everyone hustled and bustled preparing for the banquet . 

You had managed to finish two more portraits as the day went on, the sun setting behind the mountain before you even realized it. Soon, Fíli would be here to fetch you. 

You wondered what his friends were like. If they were anything like him, you were prepared for a whole lot of cockiness and childish humor. You smiled to yourself at the thought of Fíli getting drunk, wondering what his tolerance was like. He seemed like the type who could handle his liquor.

Knock, knock, knock. 

“Come in,” you called as you continued touching up your newest painting. 

The door opened and soon you felt Fíli lean down behind you to peer at your canvas. “And who am I meeting this time?”

“A young dam named Annis,” you answered. 

“The new lass at the bakery?” 

“The very same.” You dipped your paintbrush in another color as you carefully fixed a mistake you had made with her nose. 

“She makes a wonderful bread with cheese,” he hummed. 

“I know, she gave some to me as a gift this morning. Apparently she made too many for tonight.” You smiled at the thought of the tasty meal you had earlier. 

“And speaking of tonight,” he backed away from you know, sitting on your storage chest as usual. “Are you ready?”

You scoffed. “Clearly not if I’m painting.”

“Well, obviously. I meant more so in a general sense.” He rolled his eyes. 

“The answer’s still no, but alright.” You found a stopping point and began putting your supplies away, leaving the painting on its easel to dry. 

You stood up and stretched, cracking your knuckles. “I need to change, but I can do that quickly. Should I dress a certain way? I’ve never been to a dwarven banquet.”

“Oh, they’re very regal, but only for the ladies.” He chuckled. 

You looked confused, not understanding. 

He coughed. “To impress men. Most dams look for others to court at banquets.”

You rolled your eyes. “So the answer to my question is no?”

“Well, yes, but nobody’s stopping you from dressing yourself up.”

You ignored his comment, looking through some of your clothes that lay on your bed. You were deciding on an outfit earlier but had opted to wait for Fíli’s opinion. Not that it was doing any good. 

“And what is everyone else wearing?” You asked. 

“Does it matter?” He raised a brow. 

“Well, I’d very much like to blend in with your friends, so yes.”

“Y/N, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you’re not a dwarf. You’re going to stand out.” 

You groaned, throwing a tunic at him. “If you’re not going to be helpful, then leave so I can change.”

He caught it with a shit-eating grin, holding back his laughter from his teasing. “Alright, alright. But hurry up, I told Kíli we’d be there soon.”

One casual outfit change led to Fíli guiding you through Erebor to his ‘secret spot’. Despite his eagerness to join his friends, you were grateful that he took you through a quiet path to get there. 

Twists and turns led you through one wine cellar, an empty staircase, and a ruined library before eventually bringing you to a wide and open balcony, hidden from anyone passing by. It hung over the great hall where the banquet was being held, giving you a perfect view of the events below. Your eyes lit up in awe, both from the sheer height of the balcony and the amount of people you saw down below. Dwarves were already naturally short, but from here they looked like ants dancing over stone floors. 

“Is this that noble you were talking about, Fíli?” An unfamiliar voice asked, prompting you to turn around and take in the sight of the balcony, which had been decked out with a wide table and benches. 

Seated at the table were four others, but you only recognized Kíli. Fíli made his way over, taking a seat as he waved a hand at you to invite you to sit down next to him. 

“Aye, this is Y/N.” He said, introducing you. You gave a small nod, taking in your new surroundings. 

“Are you drinking with us?” Kíli asked.

“No,” Fíli interjected before you could say anything. “They’ll be sticking to water tonight.”

“I’m sure one pint won’t hurt me,” you scolded. It was a nice gesture that he was looking out for you, but there was no way you could handle the pressure of meeting new people without some liquid courage. Even if you weren’t going to get drunk, having something to hold onto would help your nerves. 

Fíli raised both of his hands in surrender at your words, a smirk on his lips. 

“An excellent choice!” Kíli grinned, elbowing one of the younger dwarves at the table. “Ori, get them something to drink before we start.”

Ori, who you now realized was the younger redhead with the unfortunate haircut, quickly fetched a drink of mead for you, setting it down in front of you with a smile as you thanked him. 

“Are we starting already? They’re finally here now,” the brown haired dwarf with blue eyes said, gesturing to you and Fíli. 

“Come on, don’t be like that; we got here as soon as we could,” Fíli explained. 

“Don’t mind him,” the other young redhead spoke, his beard longer than everyone else’s. “Threl’s just eager to start drinking.”

“Well no one’s stopping you!” Ori teased, raising his mug as a cheer. You laughed under your breath at their antics. 

“What are we playing?” You asked, finally speaking up. 

“Strike the Iron.” Kíli said, drawing a set of metal die and a leather dish, which he set in the middle of the table. 

“It’s easy, don’t worry. You’ll catch on quickly,” Fíli grinned, now armed with his own pint. “You throw the die and whatever it lands on decides your fate.”

“My fate?” You raised a brow. 

“Should we start with one since Y/N’s never played?” Ori offered.

“Who says they can’t learn with two?” The other redhead retorted. A part of you was hoping someone would say his name so you could learn it without asking.

Kíli waved him off. “We can start with one for now. Threl, you can go first since you’re rushing us all.”

Threl laughed at this, taking the dice and separating them, giving Kíli the extra. He tossed the single die into the leather dish. All of you eagerly watched as it rolled around before eventually landing on its side.

“Matkati, of course,” he playfully rolled his eyes and took a heaping gulp of his malt.

“That’s what you get for being impatient,” Fíli laughed. He then turned to you to explain. “Matkati means you take a drink.”

You nodded, repeating the word under your breath. The rules seemed to be simple enough so far.

Fíli took the die and tossed it as well, reading the side it landed on. “Mafsiki. Alright, who’s asking me the question?”

“Question?” You raised a brow.

Kíli snickered. “It means we get to ask him to tell us a secret.”

“Let Y/N ask it, since they’re new.” Ori smiled your way and you were caught off guard by the way everyone agreed. Well now you had been put on the spot.

“Ask away,” Fíli smiled at you, a hand on his beer as he took a sip. 

You thought for a moment, finding yourself overwhelmed with the opportunity. There was so much you could ask of him.

“Tell us who has the lowest tolerance at the table,” you said, opting for a question that was relevant to everyone here.

“Gimli,” he pointed at the other redhead, who was not happy to have his name in someone’s mouth. At least you finally had a name to the face.

“You liar!” He stood up, pointing his own finger at Fíli as everyone at the table roared with laughter. “You couldn’t outdrink me if you tried!”

Even Kíli stood, offended. “You lie! Everyone knows that you can’t handle your mead!”

“That was one time, Kíli!” Fíli retorted. “And need I remind you how we got in that situation?!”

“It’s your turn, Y/N,” Threl said, wiping a tear from his eye.

“I didn’t mean to cause any fighting,” you said while taking the die.

“Oh, don’t apologize!” Threl laughed. “Gimli’s always had a temper. He can’t tell a joke from a declaration of war.”

Gimli wasn’t having any of this, drinking his beer with a fiery passion. Hesitantly, you tossed the die into the leather dish, watching it roll around before it landed on the same symbol from earlier. “Mafsiki, right?”

“Now you’re getting it!” Threl grinned. “Who wants to ask them something?”

“My, who knew khuzdul sounded so nice on your tongue, Y/N,” Fíli chuckled, sending a wink your way. You eagerly took a drink to hide your face from his gaze.

“I’ll go,” Ori chimed in. “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk?”

“While drunk?” You repeated, thinking to yourself. You hadn’t drank much back home, save for the occasional wine you’d sip as you painted. “I suppose I’ve accidentally slept on one of my paintings before.”

“Slept on a painting?” Ori repeated, eyes widening. “Was it dry?”

You chuckled. “Definitely not, it was ruined by the time I woke up. I was so upset; I think I cried.”

“That’s all? That’s not very adventurous,” Kíli scoffed. You were beginning to notice that he was much cockier than his brother. 

You shrugged. “I wasn’t known for my adventures back home. Being here is the most adventurous I’ve ever had to be.”

“Well then, it can’t be helped.” Ori said as he tossed the die. This time it landed on a new side, and you quickly looked to Fíli for an explanation. 

“Magli,” he whispered in your ear and you tried not to focus on how close he was as he spoke, his breath sending a shudder down your spine. “It means he’ll have to perform whatever daring task someone can come up with.”

“And I’ve already got the perfect one!” Gimli said proudly, slamming his drink on the table. It seems he had calmed down fairly quickly. 

“You, my lad,” he said, waving a finger in Ori’s face. “Need to go fetch us a platter of the meats they’re serving downstairs.”

Immediately, everyone started laughing and agreeing wholeheartedly. The table roared in agreeance and the rumbling of everyone’s stomachs.

“Yes, you must!” Kíli grinned, and Ori rolled his eyes as he stood up to leave. 

“These next tasks better not be errands!” He frowned, leaving the hidden balcony as he went to go do Gimli’s bidding. 

“Does he really have to go all the way back?” You asked. 

“Aye, if he wants to keep playing,” Gimli nodded. “Otherwise he’s exiled from the table.”

“That feels rather harsh,” you frowned. 

“It’s simply the rules, Y/N,” Fíli chuckled. “Gimli, hurry up and play. None of us here are drunk enough.”

“Aye, don’t rush me!” Gimli scolded, taking the die in his hand. 

Three long hours later, Gimli and Ori were out for the count, drunken and babbling nonsensical things as they laid on top of each other on the floor. You had to come to know that this was quite normal for them. Kíli, as you had predicted, had abandoned the group to go wildly dancing at the banquet down below. Every now and then, you and Threl would look over the balcony to see if you could spot the brown-haired prince from so high up.

“His mother will sure be happy to see him dancing with young dams,” Threl had snickered.

“The question is whether or not he’ll remember any of them in the morning,” you had retorted.

Fíli himself was also quite drunk; you had realized early on that he was even more of a lightweight than Gimli, having to switch his drink to water earlier in the game. Threl and yourself were the only sober ones, which you found ironic when Threl had been so eager to drink earlier.

At some earlier point in the night, all of you had abandoned the game, opting for drunken conversation mixed with the occasional dancing. You learned that Kíli and Ori were very light on their feet when it came to fast-paced dances. Gimli and Threl, on the other hand, found something as simple as waltzing to be a challenge. And Fíli? Well, he seemed to be a bigger fan of humming and clapping along to the music.

Eventually you all decided to return to the iron dice, but it was becoming much more intimate now that it was down to only three players: Threl, Fíli and yourself. 

You tossed the die into the dish, laughing to yourself as Fíli slumped against Threl, muttering how dear their friendship was to him. You hadn’t pegged him to be a sentimental drunk.

“Falling asleep already?” You scoffed, quickly reading the die to determine your fate. “It’s mafsiki.”

“Not in your wildest dreams, dear,” Fíli waved your question off and you did your best to not find yourself flustered by the pet name. He was a sentimental and affectionate drunk; you had been slowly discovering this as the night went on. “Threl, my brother, ask them a question.”

“Alright,” he chuckled. “Y/N, how far can I take these questions?”

“We’ve already made steady progress, Threl.” You rolled your eyes. “I suppose anything’s on the table when you’ve already asked Kíli what he’s like in bed.”

He laughed at this, taking a swig of his mead. “In my defense, I thought he wouldn’t answer!”

“That’s a lie and you know it,” you scoffed. Even if you weren’t close with Kíli, you knew he wouldn’t shy away from something so easily. You still couldn’t shake the image that Kíli had a thing for bondage. It seems you learn something new everyday. 

“Fair enough, I see your point. Let me think of something then.” He scratched his beard, setting his drink down to think. “Oh, I’ve got it.”

He leaned in from across the table, a devilish smirk on his face. “What’s a lie you’ve told yourself?”

“Well that isn’t particularly raunchy,” you frowned. You were expecting more. Perhaps even hoping for more.

“But it’s still interesting enough, I’d say,” Fíli chimed in.

“It seems the jury agrees with me, Y/N,” Threl chuckled.

You tucked a loose strand of hair away as you thought, wondering if there were any lies you had been telling yourself lately. Very little came to mind, but one in particular seemed to stick out.

“I suppose I keep telling myself that everything’s okay while I’m here,” you began with a sigh. “But I still have someone who wants me dead out there. And staying here and meeting such lovely people as you doesn’t change the fact that I’m a dead man walking.”

A silence fell over you three as you fiddled with your hair, unsure of what to do now. You had answered truthfully in order to keep playing, but it also felt as though you had ruined the mood. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so melanchol–” You began, interrupted when Fíli reached a hand over to rest on your shoulder, offering your reassurance.

“Gandalf is a friend,” he offered a small smile. “If he says you’re safe here, then safe is what you are. And I intend to help in any way I can.”

“I may not know your entire situation,” Threl offered. “But what my friend says is true. Especially if Fíli is your trainer. He’s a formidable fighter to have on your side.”

You smiled, silently thanking them for their reassurance. While it didn’t settle your inner qualms, it still felt quite lovely to know that there were people here who cared that you existed. That appreciated the fact that you were here, despite the reasons. And it was especially encouraging to know that you had allies.

“You know what we need at this moment?” Fíli asked, elbowing Threl.

“What’s that?” Threl gave Fíli a confused expression.

“More players! I’m sure if you go and fetch Kíli and find my dear friend Bofur, we can finally start playing with two dice!” Fíli’s pink cheeks glowed as he flashed a smile thinking of his friends.

Threl seemed quite keen on the idea, standing up quickly to leave. “Alright, but I doubt it will be easy with Kíli dancing. Wish me luck!”

You waved a short goodbye to the blue-eyed dwarf before turning to face Fíli again, whose expression was much more serious now. It caught you off guard, startling you for a moment.

“Is everything alright?” You asked.

“Y/N…” His voice was clearer now, and despite his flushed face, you would have assumed he was much more sober now. “I don’t think I’ve ever truly apologized for your injuries–”

“Fíli, what are you saying?” You cut him off. “We were training, it wasn’t your fault–”

“Let me finish.” His eyes burned into yours and you shifted in your seat, feeling uncomfortable in his blue gaze. This was a complete shift from his earlier behavior and you were uncertain of where it was leading.

“I cannot help but feel guilty that my training has led to such an injury. You were brought here out of fear and because of that, you’ve had to find a place for yourself here, in a world that isn’t your own. I just…”

He paused and you drew another breath, unsure of where he was leading with this. Your heart was beating all too fast inside your chest.

“I need you to understand that while you haven’t been here long, I have grown quite accustomed to our routines.” He continued as he pushed through a fit of hiccups, which was the only thing reminding you of his drunken state. “While you are here, I will allow no harm to come to you. I swear it. I am wholly at your service for absolutely anything you will need. Anything.”

“Fíli, that’s…” You couldn’t find the words, taken aback by his proclamation. “That’s very kind of you.”

A short silence fell over you two and you were contemplating on finally telling Fíli about the feelings and dreams you had been having lately, but time was not on your side. 

“Aye, it’s hopeless!” A voice cut through, interrupting your thoughts as its owner walked back in with empty hands and a frown on his face. Threl was not pleased. “Kíli won’t come up here, believe me I tried.”

Fíli gave you one last longing look before turning to Threl and standing up, getting ready to leave. You took in the whole scene before you, still pondering the words he had spoken to you earlier. 

“You can’t be serious, brother. Here, we’ll all go find him together!”

Knock, knock, knock! You awoke quickly from the sound, springing out of bed to open the door to a smiling Fíli.

“What time is it?” You asked, your voice a few tones deeper and a bit raspy from waking up. You winced from the light that came in from the hallway, much brighter than your dark room.

Fíli stifled a laugh. “You sound like me! Is everything alright?”

“Fíli, it’s early.” You groaned. “What do you want?”

“You, obviously. Why else would I be here?”

You didn’t even have time to fantasize about the meaning of his words before he was already inviting himself in, lighting some candles along the way. It was indeed too early for anything this morning.

“I’m sorry?” You asked, seeking an explanation.

“You’ve been healed for a few days already, correct?” He looked at you to answer, despite already knowing the answer.

Three days ago, one month since you had arrived in Erebor, you had visited the medic for a final check up on your head. Thankfully, all of your headaches had dulled away and the rest of your symptoms were minimal if not completely gone. The bruise on your head had also healed tremendously; with all of these good signs, the medic had officially cleared your diagnosis, meaning you could resume your normal life again.

“Yes, you know this.” It was too early for these antics.

“I know, but humor me for the time being. I’ve planned the perfect get-well gift for you.” His smile was practically beaming now, as though he couldn’t contain his excitement.

You sighed, crossing your arms. “What is it?”

“I’m not telling you.” He said, feeling cheeky. If you weren’t annoyed before, you sure as hell were now.

“Fíli, I’d love nothing more than to go back to sleep.” You walked back over to your bed, fully intent on climbing back into the sheets. It was probably still warm, too, but Fíli had other plans.

“And I know it,” he said, quickly moving to put himself between you and your bed. If you hadn’t felt utterly exhausted, you might have found yourself feeling flustered or rather bold. But exhaustion was all you could feel right now.

“But I can assure you this will be worth it. And it has to be now.” His eyes bore into your own, waiting eagerly for your answer.

You sighed. It seemed there was no chance of winning against him.

“Just let me get dressed before I change my mind.”

Fíli made a sound of victory as he practically jumped off of your storage chest to exit your room. Even if he was annoying, he still would give you privacy. The door shut behind him, and you cast one more longing look at your bed before scurrying to find yourself an outfit.

It seemed it would be another day of a cozy tunic and trousers.

Finally dressed and following Fíli as he guided you through the kingdom’s halls, you were starting to feel more awake and more curious of what his planned surprise could possibly be. Even the idea that he had planned something special for you was giving you butterflies. How long had he been planning this? Or was this a sudden idea of his?

You tried your best to contain your excitement, not wanting to romanticize anything too much. Indeed, your growing feelings towards your bodyguard were still something you wished to keep secret.

Twists and turns and endless walking eventually led you outside of Erebor’s huge mountain gates; mighty, massive and moss-covered from the recent weather. The fresh wind hit your lungs all at once, making you feel as though you had taken the first deep breath of air in a long time. You gasped at the sensation.

The fresh fall air tickled your skin as you realized it had been too long since you had last seen the sky. The vast blue atmosphere welcomed you with its sunny warmth and you couldn’t help the smile that quickly took over your face. Outside, finally.

You hadn’t realized how much you missed it until it was all around you.

Fíli had been watching your reaction with a soft smile on his face, taking in your joy with a sense of pride. He was glad to take in your expressions. Finally realizing he was watching, you quickly composed yourself, feeling embarrassed.

“I didn’t realize that I had missed it so much,” you said, your voice hushed.

He nodded with a smile, understanding. “We miss the things we take for granted.”

You nodded, walking closer to keep up with his pace. “Is this what the surprise was?”

“Not even quite,” he laughed. “Come on, we’re almost there.” 

Eagerly you followed, unable to wipe the smile off of your face. Everything was perfect; the wind blowing your worries away. For now, all that mattered was you, Fíli and the sky. But things were only getting started.

The path was well-worn into the grass with small rocks and smooth stones occasionally jutting out from the soil. You tried your best to keep from tripping, too accustomed to the smooth carved stone of the mountain paths of Erebor. Everything about the outdoors felt so alien to your body, but you couldn’t have loved the feeling more. It felt as though you were experiencing everything again for the first time. 

Fíli, however, saw this as a perfect opportunity to tease you.

“Careful now,” he said anytime you stumbled, though it felt as though he said it whenever your foot so much as graced the presence of a hill.

“Seriously, I can manage,” you retorted with a huff.

“Really? I could’ve sworn you were about to–”

“Enough, Fíli.” You rolled your eyes, ignoring the smirk that was plastered on his face.

The journey was like this for quite some time until you began to piece together where your destination was. Needless to say, you were very excited.

“Dale? Is that where we’re going?” You asked, excitement feeding your smile.

“Just for a little while,” Fíli nodded, happy to see you had caught on. “I thought you would enjoy the time outdoors.”

“Oh, I already am,” you beamed. You could hardly contain yourself. There was fresh wind, there was the sky above you and there was an entire city of people like you waiting for you to explore it. It almost felt as though you were back home, nostalgia eating away at you as you couldn’t hold back your grin. 

“Fíli, this is wonderful,” you exclaimed.

He smirked. “Now you see why I woke you up so early. Even Kíli doesn’t know we’re here.”

“It’s a secret?” You asked.

“For now, but don’t worry.” He said. “We’ll be back before they even realize we’re gone.”

“How long do we have?” You raised a brow, curious as to why he’d chosen to keep it a secret.

“A few hours, at most. I thought you’d like to see the market first.”

He offered you his hand and you felt your heart skip a beat for a moment. You smiled, beaming down at the blonde prince as you took his hand in yours.

“I’d love nothing more.”

Despite the fact that the sun was still waking up in the sky, the busy market streets of Dale were alive and kicking. Colorful stalls decorated the cobblestone paths as vendors shouted their sales at passerby while others continued setting up their spaces. It was a vibrant and lively atmosphere that beckoned one and all to witness it. It made you think of the markets back home, despite their differences; even the markets in Erebor were different, as the stalls were lit up by lanterns that gave the illusion of a nighttime festival.

But none of these differences seemed to affect the way that your eyes glittered with joy at the sight of so many fine goods. Jewelry and clothing vendors caught your eye the most as you dragged Fíli along with you to browse the wares that were so different from the traditional dwarvish clothes you had become accustomed to. 

You had become so used to the earthy and deep tones of the mountain dyes, but here in Dale the clothes were of brighter hues. You had grown so used to the typical browns, blues and reds that the sight of such rich greens and purples blew you away. 

“Oh, just look at these, I’ve never seen such pretty dresses,” you muttered to yourself, astounded by all of the simple linen gowns the vendor was selling. They were so different from what you usually found yourself wearing, but for some reason you couldn’t shake your admiration off of them. 

“Did you want them?” Fíli asked, laughing at your childlike wonder. 

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly—“

“Y/N, don’t worry about it. Consider it my payment for your injury now that you’re well again.” He was already fetching coins from his pouch and handing them to you; you couldn’t say no. And if you could, he certainly wasn’t taking it for an answer. 

“Are you sure?” You asked. 

“I’ve already made up my mind. I’ll even carry your purchases if you’re nice enough,” he joked.

You had laughed at this, but Fíli had been quite serious. For some strange reason, he refused to let you carry any of your next two purchases. You waved it off as his stubborn determination, your mind focusing more on the next vendors your eyes landed on. Whatever his reasons were, spending this time outside was doing so much for your health. Everything was lovely in the early morning sun.

Now that you two were in the full swing of things at the market, you really wanted to find a way to buy Fíli a gift of his own. Granted, he was the only one who had brought any money, but it was the sentiment that would matter more. 

The only issue was the fact that he hadn’t left your side whatsoever. 

You wracked your brain while pretending to peruse more wares, thinking of any excuse you could use in an attempt to sneak away and look for a gift for him. What would get him to let you escape? What kind of gift would he like? You told yourself you’d know it when you found it, opting to have one less thing to worry about. 

What was stopping you from just asking him to leave? You didn’t want to ruin the surprise of finding him a gift, but couldn’t you just ask for some privacy? Perhaps it was worth a shot. 

He raised a brow, noticing the torn expression on your face. “Everything alright?”

“Can I look at a few stalls by myself?” You asked, tucking your hair back as a nervous habit. 

“You already are, I haven’t said a word,” he replied. 

You shook your head. “No, I meant completely alone.” 

“Y/N, if it’s undergarments you’re looking for, we already passed that—“

“Is nothing sacred to you?” You rolled your eyes, trying not to smile from his crass teases. A full month of listening to his constant teases and jokes was now starting to make you find them humorous, which was terrible for his ego. “Fíli, please.”

He was already smirking from his own joke, but he could sense your impatience. He sighed, looking away for a moment as he came to terms with his decision. 

“Fine. I’ll stay here, but I don’t want you leaving my sight.” He handed you some coins from his small leather purse. “Here, these should do you some good.”

You grinned. “Right, of course.”

“And make it quick,” he added. “We should start thinking of heading back home soon.”

“I understand!” You called, already walking away to quickly roam some more stands. 

You had to find a gift for Fíli, and fast. What would he like? You knew he had an affinity for his weapons, but there was no way you had enough currency to pay for such a thing. You didn’t know him well enough to know what kind of clothes he was fond of, either. Your eyes scanned the wares of the next two stalls you wandered towards, trying not to rush yourself as you searched for something that would call out to you. 

And all of a sudden, there it was. 

Nestled in a small linen-lined case was a pair of rings carved from iron, a pearl embedded in each one. Their silver shine sparkled in the early morning light, reminding you of the silver beads Fíli wrapped around his braids. You couldn’t take your eyes off of them; these were the ones that were calling to you. The iridescent freshwater pearls reminded you of his eyes; they would be perfect to weave into his hair, as they were too small to fit even your fingers. 

“Excuse me,” you called, getting the vendor’s attention. Your heart was pounding at the idea of giving Fíli such a gift. “How much are these?”

The old woman hobbled over to you, gaining a closer look at what you were pointing at. Once she realized, a relieved sigh fell from her lips. 

“Oh my, anything you’re willing to spend is fine by me, dear.” Her shrill voice said. 

“Pardon?” You raised an eyebrow, not fully understanding what she meant. 

“My son made these months ago and they never sold because of their size,” she explained. “I wouldn’t argue with any payment for these, so long as they find a home with someone else.”

“Oh, I see,” you nodded, smiling as you fingered through your coins. You handed her three, hoping it would be enough despite the fact that she was willing to sell them for dirt cheap. 

“Thank you, dear.” She took your payment thankfully, picking up the rings afterwards. “Here, allow me to package them for you so you don’t lose them.”

“Oh, thank you,” you smiled. “That’s very kind.”

Your hands eagerly received the small linen bag that the old woman gave you, the clinking of the rings inside making your smile even bigger. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what Fíli would think. Your heart was pounding at the idea.

Quickly, you looked for him, knowing he was somewhere close. After all, he had told you to stay in his sight. But as your eyes traveled over all of the stalls you had previously been to, you noticed that he was nowhere to be found. Were you lost? He must have moved from the stall that you left him at, but where?

Tucking the small bag with his gift into your tunic, you began wandering and retracing your steps, hoping to find him nearby. You were growing a little nervous, hoping he wouldn’t be upset that you must have gotten lost, especially because he had mentioned that you two should start leaving soon. Would he be in trouble if anyone in Erebor found you two missing? You frowned at the thought, not wanting to find out.

“Fíli?” You called out, hoping he’d hear you in the sea of people shopping. “Fíli?

You kept walking, the worrying feeling growing in your chest the longer you couldn’t find your companion. You drew a breath, trying to calm yourself down until a hand grasped your wrist, pulling you away into a side alley.

Shock took over your face as your front was slammed into the walls of someone’s home, the breath knocked out of your lungs as a hand quickly covered your mouth, preventing any noise from being heard. You felt something sharp poke your back and your entire body stiffened.

“Let’s find out what happens if you make any noise, hm?”

An hour had passed now, your life hanging in the balance as your attacker paced the room of the abandoned building he had taken you to. Tied and gagged against a foundational pillar, your heart pounded as all you could do was watch in horror as your attacker waited impatiently while muttering something under his breath. The lighting was too dim to make out anything about him, save for his tall and lanky build.

How could you have been such a fool? You had been too naïve to believe that Erebor was a safe place. With a bounty on your head, you’d never be safe. If only you hadn’t let your guard down, if only you hadn’t lost sight of Fíli, and where was Fíli? Only an hour had passed, but it felt like three lifetimes with the fear that stabbed your heart. 

You were really going to die here. Alone and lost, without saying goodbye.

Your attacker whipped his head to look at you, an impatient grin on his face as his blade glinted in the candlelight of the room. He slowly approached you and you desperately tried to scurry away to no avail. He laughed at this, the scar on his left cheek now visible and on full display. But knowing what he looked like only terrified you more.

No, please. Don’t let me die here.

“You know what I’ve learned about you?” He smiled eerily, cocking his head to the side. “You’re tough to track, you know. Everyone before me lost your trail in Lake Town, but I knew better. Some were saying you had returned south into Mirkwood, can you believe that? Idiots, all of them.”

He scratched the back of his head with the hilt of his blade, a means of showing it off so he could see the fear in your eyes. A feral joy etched itself into his face as he studied your expression, relishing the silent tears that sprang from your eyes.

“I knew better, alright. I trusted the tracks — you must always trust the tracks. I’m actually just surprised it took me this long to find you here. Where have you been hiding out, hm? I checked all of the ruins here; were you staying with someone? Perhaps bribing them to let you live with them? But it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

He paused and gave an almost thoughtful look. “What’s your family known for again?” He suddenly laughed and you couldn’t stop the silent tears that spilled from your eyes. “Ah, that’s it! Something about ashes and trusting one another, hm? Well, then! Do you trust me?”

You held back a choked whine as he spoke but when he reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear you quickly thrashed about, loathing the idea of him touching you. 

He hated this.

He slapped you across your face, the impact burning your skin. You cried out. Tears poured out. But you refused to meet his gaze. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing the pain and fear in your eyes, again. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest and you struggled to keep your breathing with the stress.

Please. Someone, anyone! Will no one find me?

“No wonder he wants a brat like you dead. You think you’re too good for me, hm? You think I’m not worthy of someone like you?” He stood up now, his arms crossed. “Well it’s too late! Once my friend arrives to confirm who you are, you’ll be dead. And I’ll be richer than ever. Richer than your family, that’s for sure. I wonder what I’ll spend it on?”

He backed away, now muttering to himself as he pondered the idea of how to spend his new fortune. You watched him return to his pacing, desperately trying to find a way to loosen your bonds, but it was no use. You had no weapons and the ropes he had tied you with were so tight that any slight movement in your wrists only seemed to tighten them to the point of bruising.

I’m really going to die here, aren’t I?

You sobbed through your gag, your tears staining your face and clothes as you thought about everything that had led you to this point. You thought about your father, now hating him more than ever despite the fact that he had raised you. He was the reason you were about to die alone. You thought about your mother, who had been too depressed to even wish you a proper goodbye. You wondered if she’d ever know how much you were suffering now. And of course, you thought about Erebor and all the new friends you had come to know. You would never see Kíli drunkenly dance again, or Threl try to babysit Fíli’s drunken sentimentality, or even Gimli’s competitive nature combined with Ori’s people-pleasing tendencies. 

None of them would ever see you again.

You thought of Fíli the most. You wondered how he would feel after finding out you died on his watch; you wondered if he’d ever recover. Where was he? Was he out there right now, looking for you somewhere in the market? Or had something happened to him, too? It seemed your attacker didn’t know about him, or even about Erebor. Had Fíli gone back to get help in finding you? Why else had he not found you by now? Surely the city of Dale wasn’t too much ground to cover for such a warrior as he?

I never even told him of my feelings.

You closed your eyes, unconsolable as you cried, hoping everything would be over soon. You had given up hope now, forced to acknowledge that this was the end for you. As soon as your attacker’s contact arrived, you’d be killed. You blamed yourself for believing that hiding away would keep you safe; you blamed yourself even more for your injury, which prevented you from adequately learning any self defense that would’ve helped you in this exact situation. You were outgunned and outplanned. It was hopeless. 

You were going to die here. 

Your assailant continued his pacing, still muttering to himself about all of the fine clothes he would buy for himself once he would be given the bounty, occasionally cursing to himself while wondering when his contact would arrive. A part of you found it ironic that despite how clever he had deemed himself to be in finding you, he still needed someone to double check his homework. If you weren’t gagged and crying, you would’ve probably let him know your thoughts a little too well. 

Knock, knock, knock!

Your heartbeat quickened and your body went on full alert. Fíli quickly came to mind, having grown accustomed to his patterns on your door. But Fíli wasn’t here. He didn’t know where you were. And so, three soft knocks were all it took for you to panic. This was it. You were going to die. Your muffled cries quickly sprang from your throat as your enemy shot you a devious smile before walking to the back of the dark room towards the door. 

You were out of time. 

“Do us both a favor and keep quiet, hm?” He laughed, his hand now resting on the doorknob. “Wouldn’t want this to be any messier than it—“

The door swung open, knocking him down as the air was ripped from his lungs. Your eyes squinted in an effort to make out what had happened, but the force of the door was enough to snuff out the nearby candles that illuminated your unknown enclosure. You hiked your legs closer to you, desperately trying to wrangle your wrists free to no avail. You couldn’t see anything but the noises you were hearing were enough to send your heart leaping out of your chest.

A loud thud sounded as the door creaked again and your assailant let out a pained cry, swearing in pain. Shuffling of feet reached your ears, distant at the other end of the room. More shouts and grunts could be heard, but they were not solely from your attacker. Whoever had entered the room was certainly not his contact. 

A muffled crunch was heard and you winced at the sound of your attacker’s screams of suffering. Had his bones been broken? By who? By what force? Your breathing was ragged and short as you tried to keep quiet, hoping that the mysterious new person couldn’t see or hear you. 

A yelp then a thud, closer now than previously. Followed by a hand gripping your ankle as someone had thrown your attacker towards you. You couldn’t help the scream that left your lungs aching for air as you kicked the hand away and tried your best to shuffle elsewhere.

And then the hand was no more, the sound of dragging and the door gently shutting ringing in your ears as you were left in the dark by yourself.

Your heart was pounding as a cold sweat covered your body, trying to wrap your mind over what had just happened. The ringing in your ears was only growing louder and louder as you tried to recount the last two minutes.

What bothered you more was the lack of sound on the other side of the door. No screams, no shuffles, absolutely nothing. Silence. Eerie silence.

The door creaked open once again and every fiber of your being went on high alert as the sound of footsteps and heavy panting approached you. Quickly, your bonds were cut and hands reached to remove the gag from your tear-stained face.

“Y/N…” Fíli’s voice filled your ears and you couldn’t stop yourself from throwing your entire body into his arms, sobs wracking your body. 

“There, you’re safe now, I promise you,” he whispered, his voice quiet in the silence of the room. His arms wrapped around your frame, cradling you in his hold as a safe space while you cried. His grip was tight, as if you would disappear all at once.

Your hands tangled themselves in his hair as you clutched him close to you, desperately wanting to be assured that this was real and you were safe. You needed to prove that he was here. He reciprocated by pulling you so close into him all you could breathe was him. He had found you. Everything was alright.

He raised a hand to your face, gently holding it in his calloused palms as he wiped tears from your eyes. If you weren’t in such a state of shock, you would've asked him how he was able to see in such a dark room. But questions would have to come later as your body finally had a chance to process and digest all of the trauma the last hour and half had brought you. You dove your head into his shoulder, weeping tears that stained the fur trim of his tunic. Your hands lost their vice grip on his blonde locks, now falling to his shoulders as you anchored yourself to him. His hand cradled your head, keeping you close to him as he rubbed soothing patterns along your scalp. 

“We must head back.” He waited until your cries had dulled down to silent tears and even breathing before breaking the tense silence in the room, bringing his hands into your own so you could feel that he was here by your side.

You only let out a choked sniffle as a reply, letting him help you up and lead you out the torturous dark.

“What were you doing in Dale?” Thorin’s voice echoed through the stone hall you were all gathered in and to say he was displeased would have been a massive understatement.

The moment you two had made it back inside the gates of Erebor, a worried Kíli and Ori greeted you with upsetting news; apparently, once it had been discovered by Kíli that both of you were nowhere to be found, the king had summoned you. 

“He’s not happy, Fí.” Kíli had warned. “I tried to cover for you, but I haven’t seen him this uneasy in a while. What happened out there?”

“Nothing good,” Ori frowned, inspecting the blood that was spattered on Fíli’s boots and trousers; something you had been too afraid to ask about on the journey back home.

“Where is he, Kíli?” Fíli’s tone was clipped and soft, his eyes unreadable even to you.

Only you and Fíli had been allowed to enter the Great Hall where Thorin Oakenshield resided, forced to meet with him before even thinking of doing anything else.

And now here he sat before you, regal and cold as his stony throne. He glared daggers into the both of you, demanding answers. Answers that Fíli was more than prepared to give.

“I brought them thinking it would do their mind some good,” he was firm in his response, standing at full attention before his uncle and his king.

“Some good?” The king raised a dark bushy brow. “And what good came from it? What good could have possibly come from my nephew rushing home with blood on his hands?”

“I was attacked,” you croaked, your voice weak from crying but you did your best to appear otherwise. “A man who knew of the bounty found me, he told me that they’ve been tracking me.”

“And what else do you expect of them?” Thorin stood, anger in his tone. “Do you understand how much wealth has been placed on your head?”

“Uncle, it wasn’t their fault–” Fíli stepped forward, confused by Thorin’s question, but he was interjected.

“Then tell me, should I blame you? Are you not the one I placed in charge of Y/N?” Thorin began approaching you both, his steps slow and intimidating.

Fíli held his ground, trying his best to sway the king’s mind. “Yes, and as such, I have taken care of the threat. Just like you’ve taught me.”

“Taken care of it?” His uncle repeated. It seemed he would hear none of it. 

But Fíli was persistent. “Both of the hunters who were after Y/N are dead now.”

“And I suppose that it is only a matter of time before Bard learns of this?” 

“You can send a messenger explaining–”

“I have done enough!” Thorin declared, his tone cold as ice as he stood still. His voice echoed in the hall around you, reverberating in your mind. He could not be reasoned with as he glared you and Fíli down, just mere feet in front of you two.

The room fell so silent that you could hear the shallow breaths of the king before you. Fíli took a step to put himself between you and Thorin and it was becoming harder and harder to keep up the brave face.

“I was told you would be safe here, that my people would be safe here.” The king’s cold gaze fixed itself on you now, pointing a finger as he gestured to Fíli. “But my nephew’s sacrifice today is enough to prove otherwise.”

“Uncle, what are you saying–”

“I will send word to Gandalf. I want him back here before the next full moon to discuss new terms. Y/N cannot stay here. Even you must realize this, Fíli.”

Your eyes widened as his words echoed in your mind. Today had already proven that you were not truly safe anywhere and Thorin’s words were enough to convince you that even Erebor wasn’t safe. You felt tears pooling in your eyes but you refused to let them fall. Not in front of Thorin. Not before the King.

“It is no longer safe for any of us to harbor you here,” his words cut through you as he stood tall and firm. I will grant you lodgings only until Gandalf has answered his summons. Until then, I am ordering you not to leave the city again. Perhaps we should even bar you in your own room to prevent it. For if you do leave, I won’t hesitate to take matters into my own hands.”

“And then what?” Fíli exclaimed, growing impatient as he fought for you. He had done so much of that today. “What will you have them do? Sleep on the streets, only to be killed?”

“Once Gandalf returns, their fate is no longer our concern.” Thorin spoke bluntly and despite how cold he was being to you, you knew his words came from the care he felt towards his people. How could you blame him? It wasn’t his fault you had brought him trouble. He was only doing what he thought was best for his people.

“Fíli, it’s alright,” you frowned, raising a hand to rest on his shoulder. “He’s right, it’s not safe for me to be here anymore.”

Fíli whipped his head around to face you, his deep blue eyes full of anger and worry. “And where will you be safe? If there are men in Dale after you, then there are men everywhere. You said so yourself; they’ve been tracking you.”

Thorin watched both of you, an unreadable expression in his eyes as he listened to his nephew’s words.

“Which means it’s only a matter of time before they realize I’m here,” you said. “I’m not safe here, Fíli. Gandalf will know what to do, he has to.”

You weren't sure if you even believed that. After all, Gandalf had been the one who said that Erebor was safe in the first place. But could you truly believe that anymore after the events of today?

Thorin turned back to return to his throne. “I’ve done enough to honor Erebor’s debt to Gandalf. You’re both dismissed; I shall send word for him immediately.”

“There is no need,” an elder voice boomed, shadows dancing around the room as none other than Gandalf stepped before you all. “I have already arrived.”

All three of you turned to the great stone doors of the hall where Gandalf stood with Kíli and Ori by his side.

“And I’m afraid that I bear ill news.”

You stood frozen before the King and the familiar wizard as you watched him enter the room hastily, his robes billowing behind him in an anxious manner as if the fabric had its own emotions. Eyes wide with a tear-stained face, your stomach dropped at the sight of the Grey One. It seemed in the span of a few hours, the life you had accustomed yourself with was crashing once again around you. It had already happened in Gondor and now history was repeating itself in Erebor.

Thorin’s earlier cold gaze was now warming up with an unknown fury as he eyed the wizard down. “How kind of you to show up at–”

“There is no time for games, Thorin Oakenshield.” Gandalf cut him off, his voice booming through the stone hall. There was something different about this Gandalf. What had once been an anxious urgency was now replaced with an air of clear-cut authority. He stood much taller and his brow was more furrowed in his glare sent to the King Under the Mountain.

It terrified you.

“I must speak with Y/N immediately,” he spoke, his eyes now fixated on your shaking form, the steely blue now softening as he made his way to you. “Alone.”

You cast an uneasy gaze at Thorin, who stood furious as all hell. He was quite upset with you and even more so at the gall of this intruder ordering him around. But nevertheless, he did his best to seem composed.

“Everyone, out.” His tone was clipped as his gaze cast fire at Gandalf. Only a moment of hesitation hung in the air before everyone quickly filed out.

Fíli cast an unreadable glance at you before leaving with Kíli and Ori. You desperately wanted him to stay.

It was just Gandalf and Thorin now, seemingly caught in a silent battle of steel and fire. With a short breath, Thorin finally left the hall.

Terrified, you two were now alone.

Quickly, Gandalf’s steely exterior melted into exhaustion and false mirth, eyes softening upon your frightened frame.

“Now Y/N…” His voice muttered. He didn’t know where to start. Even worse, he didn’t know how it would end.

“They found me today,” you admitted softly. It was important to tell him this. “Fíli took me to the market in Dale. I thought I’d be safe here.”

Gandalf stood silent now, allowing you your space as you tried holding back your tears. 

“I don’t know if I can keep living like this, Gandalf. They tied me up in the dark. Like cattle.” You bit your lip, the tears falling as you balled up your fists. You were angry now. It was all you could feel to prevent yourself from breaking down. “I was helpless in there, Gandalf. You said I would be safe here–”

“I said no such thing.” He was stern in everything but his gaze as his soft eyes bore into you. “Safety was never guaranteed.”

A heavy silence fell between you two, your breathing filling the hall as you thought about earlier. How your bindings had stung your wrists, which were certain to be bruised. How the rough fabric of your gag had felt like it was cutting into your skin. How your dying thoughts had been of Fíli.

You’d have to leave him now. There was no reason for you to stay here and it seemed highly unlikely Thorin would continue his generosity after the events of today.

“Where do I go from here?” You asked meekly. Your voice was cracked from a lack of water and the ache of your tears. You desperately needed a bath. You needed a plan even more.

Gandalf sighed. “I came to tell you news of your father.”

Your eyes immediately shot wide open. Your breath hitched for a moment, holding it in anticipation. “What news?”

“I’m afraid the situation in Gondor has only gotten worse.” He explained with a furrow of his brow. “Despite my attempts, the pieces are being placed against us.”

“What are you talking about?” You pressed, ignoring his metaphors.

“Your father has made the Steward aware of who holds this bounty over you. And against my better judgment, the Steward has issued a city-wide search to hunt him down. But I fear that from this, your father and the people of Minas Tirith are in grave danger.”

“But why? Who ordered the bounty?”

“A very old and well-known enemy of the Steward, I’m afraid. He refers to himself as Baldred the Bloody, and the Steward will stop at nothing to see this man’s end.” The wizard’s lip twitched as he spoke, clearly upset at the matter. “Your father was a fool for not keeping his secret.”

Your eyes widened as you realized what this meant for your family. If your father had truly been loaning money from one of the Steward’s most notorious adversaries, it would only spell treason and disgrace to your family name. It didn’t matter if your father and the Steward had known each other for over thirty years. None of the good deeds your father had helped would matter in the grand scheme of this treasonous act. And if the Steward was willing to go to such great lengths to kill this Baldred, there was no telling what would happen to your father.

“They’ll kill him,” you muttered. “Won’t they?”

Gandalf refused to answer, but his eyes told you more than enough. All you needed was a look to tell you your answer.

You fell to your knees, the news weighing down on your already heavy soul. Hadn’t your family already been through enough? Hadn’t you been through enough? 

It was no doubt that all of your father’s mistakes were caused by him alone; it was a trait you despised him for. You loathed how he cowered in his pride, even when it would bring him to his demise. 

But even so, you knew he didn’t deserve death.

“I don’t know how much time he has left. And Baldred will only continue to shed more blood if it means keeping himself hidden from the Steward.” He leaned down to your eye level now, an old and weathered hand resting on top of yours for comfort. But it did little to help.

“I can’t stay here, Gandalf.” You spoke. “I can’t bring Thorin any more trouble than I already have.”

“Whatever you choose to do,” he replied. “Know that you are not alone.”

You nodded, trying your best to believe it yourself. But you’d have to leave Fíli here. And who knows when you’d see Kíli or Ori again. Not to mention, Gandalf couldn’t show up conveniently every time you were in danger.

“Take me home, Gandalf.”

The dice had been cast. You had made up your mind. You would return home in the hopes of being able to help your father in some way. But you didn’t know how or when it would come about. Or most of all, if you would even make it in time.

Your future and the future of those you cared about was now in the hands of the fates. And you could only hope that you would survive to see it.