#dwalin x reader
Okay, so I just got another idea for a potential fanfic, and I wanted to get some ideas and thoughts for it.
I’ve talked before about the Hobbits with a Strong S/O, but what about all the Lotr and The Hobbit Character with a s/o who’s supernaturally strong. Like, can lift 1000 pounds and fling someone across the room like a frisbee kinda strong. Maybe she was granted that power by a God or something, so she’s just got really impressive muscles and is super inhumanly strong.
Can you imagine how they’d all react to that?
Like maybe, in the Mines of Moria or the Stone Giants scene, a boulder or some debris falls on someone, but she just catches it, lifts the 5 ton rock above her head, looks down at the person about to be crushed like “You might want to move” and then just flings it a hundred feet away. Can you just imaginethe look on their faces?? Merry and Pippin would have a lot of fun with that, I’m sure, as would Fili and Kili. The hobbits would probably have her lift them like weights.
@lady-latte,@moony-artnstuff,@simbxlmyne,@lothloriien,@beenovel,@thewhiteladyofrohan,@iwenttomordor,@claraofthepen, what do you all think? I think this would be hilarious, and have a lot of potential for character dynamics
Collective Masterlist
All of my own works are SFW and gender neutral (unless tagged otherwise)
The Company/Reader
Goblin tunnels, scapegoats, and life-threatening adventures… Oh, and you’re still supposed to kill these guys, hm.
Angst, Humor, Action
—-
The fall from your little cozy cave down into the deep dark depths of the Goblin Tunnels was not a pleasant one, and you’re almost certain that a concussion is in the makings with how many times you and your companions have smashed your heads against walls, each other, and rocks alike.
You got lucky for the most part, and they’ve got pretty thick skulls so they’ll be fine too.
Once the twisting tunnels and dead-drops are done, you all lay at the bottom of some sort of cage, groaning and recovering from the shock of it all (you’re fairly certain there’s a period there where you’re all unconscious).
Damn it, you should’ve known better.
You’ve known for ages about the goblins that reside in the Misty Mountains, but you, for some reason, thought you’d be safe enough with the horrible weather to make it in and out of the mountain range before they even knew you were there.
The goblin king won’t see you, will he? He won't recognize you, right?
Yeah, so, there was a time there where you worked freelance, having no assignments from The Brotherhood or anything to do, and you caught wind that the goblins of the Misty Mountains came across something desirable.
Something… shiny… and… possibly magical.
Your kleptomania went positively wild at the mere thought of finding something so pretty and sparkly in such a dreary and dismal place, so you set out for the Mountains, staked out around the entrances for a few days, and then snuck in and stole that ‘thing’.
The 'thing’ ended up being a radiant, beautiful ring stolen from some poor traveler more than likely. Whether they wiped out the kingdom or stole it in silence is unknown to you, but you didn’t really care.
You snuck in at night while countless goblins went out to hunt and enjoy the evening, and then you swiped the ring from the goblin kings finger while he slept when day came about, hid in the tunnels until night once more while he flipped out in search of it, and made your escape the following night.
Only after you stole it did you find out that it was magical.
It morphed to fit your finger as soon as you fit it on, and granted you some enhanced senses.
The enhancements weren’t vast or grand, but it was a very slight adjustment that helped to polish your already honed skills.
You could hear a little better, see a bit further, and increased your 6th sense for detecting others.
They probably went through numerous hardships to acquire such a useful item, and, now, it was all yours for free.
That day you spent hiding away in the tunnels, waiting for night so you could escape after stealing it in the day, was boring, but also a little frightening. The way the goblin king screamed and screeched about a thief and needing to find his prize made you briefly fear for your safety, but it didn’t take long for you to realize they’re too dumb to spot you.
You may not be the strongest in terms of physical strength and brute force, but your willpower and cunning got you through it almost effortlessly. And, if you did get into a physical altercation, your agility and reflexes would help you go down while taking them out with you.
Anyways, your point it that, he may not recognize your face since he never saw you, but if he sees the ring then it’s over for you.
So, once you regain your rational thought after your daze, you slip it off your finger and shove it into one of the hidden pockets in your shirt. Who knows if he’ll recognize the ring or not.
In no time you are being hauled up to your feet and dragged away with the rest of your companions, though you are a fair bit taller than all of them so it’s harder for these nasty bastards to keep you under control.
No matter how vast or grand your skills are, you’d never be able to take on all of these guys; you’re a stealth master for a reason after all.
The lot of you are taken down a series of paths to an audience with the horrendous Goblin King, and along the way you manage to kick quite a few of those grabby little monsters down into the dark depths below.
A minute or so passes that ends with all of you, ultimately, in front of the Goblin Kind and helpless.
“Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?” His voice booms in front of all of you, echoing throughout the caves, “Spies? Thieves? Assassins?”
Something like that.
You are, technically, all three, but none of you are there for him.
One of the small, ugly creatures steps forward and informs him of who you all are, "Dwarfs and a human, your Malevolence."
His face morphs into one of disgust and he practically spits out, "Dwarfs?"
"We found them on the front porch.” The lacky confirms.
“Well, don’t just stand there; search them! Every crack, every crevice.” He cries, slamming his fist down which makes the wood tremble beneath all of you.
A bunch of words are traded and the Great Goblin exposes his knowledge about Thorin and the fact that his greatest enemy, Azog the Defiler, is still alive and kicking.
“Send word to the Pale Orc; tell him I have found his prize.” A twisted smile takes over his huge face and causes that skin beard to shift, a disgustingly entrancing movement, and he looks down at the searching goblins expectantly.
You’ve had a 3 of your knives tossed aside and your short sword has been stolen, but you’re happy to report that some of your hidden weapons and the stolen goods are still hidden.
Suddenly, one of the goblins loses it’s head and throws something in front of the group, screeching and screaming with horror.
The Great Goblin recoils and he hisses out fearfully, “I know that sword! It is the Goblin-Cleaver, the Biter, the blade that sliced a thousand necks."
Whips and nails, teeth and palms, the dwarfs are abused with every limb, weapon, and thing possible, and before you can even think on it, your voice demands the attention of them all.
"Wait!"
Silence, stillness, attention.
God, you hate it.
You slip the ring from your pocket and onto your finger and take a step forward unobstructed from the enraged goblins, slightly nervous but blank in expression.
"I cannot hide it anymore. Every second that passes weighs on my soul, for the desire to be recognized for my deeds is too strong."
"Speak your piece, human, what do you want?"
You raise your ringed hand and brandish the smooth metal off to him, "Do you recognize this? The ring I so cleverly stole from you all those months ago?"
"M-My ring!” He bellows, taking a step forward, “How- You thief! You were the one who stole from me? You?!"
You say nothing at first and betray no emotion in your face, lowering your hand back to your side. When you do speak, you push arrogance into your voice, "I took it while you indulged yourself in sleep, and then I hid right under your nose for an entire day, holding my prize and listening to your whining and petulant screams.” The insults are all well aimed and meant to enrage him, for you’re hoping to take his attention off of the dwarfs before he can have them all killed. “If I had known you were so pathetic and slow-witted, I would have taken it during the night and saved myself the time."
Someone calls your name, Thorin, and he hisses with confusion, "What are you doing?"
You ignore him.
If he weren’t so pale and colorless he would’ve been red with anger at your taunting words. The Great Goblin is seething and spitting, his huge, clawed hands clenched into fists as he tries to form a coherent thought.
"You dare speak down to me? You will be punished!” He cries, pointing a long nailed finger at you, “Cut the ring from those thieving hands, and then take those hands as well!"
Your expression shifts when you’re shoved forward and onto the ground on your hands and knees, taking on a more defiant look despite the hint of fear in your eyes.
It’s not like you want them to cut off your hands, you kind of need those, but you’re fairly confident that this groups luck will strike once again and save you from a life of picking things up with your feet and wrists (if they don’t kill you, that is).
"No!” Someone yells from the group of dwarfs and goblins, followed by shouts and calls from others as well.
Unfortunately, the roaring in your ears is too loud for you to make out individual voices, but it’s nice that they aren’t apathetic towards your fate.
Before you know it you’re being shoved face-first into the ground and your arms are being wrenched out from beneath you, stretched out and poised for being cut off. Your finger with the ring on it is pulled from your fist, and when you glance up, you see a sword poised above the head of a goblin, ready to relieve you of your hand.
There’s lots of screaming and yelling, and at some point you squeeze your eyes shut since you’re no longer confident in your assessment that you’ll be saved in the nick of time.
Finally, right when your fate is about to finally be sealed, a bright light blinds you all and renders the goblins immobilized momentarily.
Gandalf the Gray stands there with his powerful staff in hand and an aura of white surrounding him, meanwhile you all just stare in awe.
“Take up arms. Fight. Fight!” He demands, slamming his staff on the ground which shakes your very souls.
You, and everyone else, require no more prompting.
In one swift movement you roll back onto your feet and steal the discarded sword aimed to take your hands, and then you jump right into the action.
You and the entirety of the group make a swift and action packed escape where you spend the majority of your time protecting the Durin’s, sticking close to them and keeping the goblins away.
Everything passes by in a blur of limbs, blood, and violence, and it isn’t until you’ve killed the Great Goblin and escaped back out into the light of the soon setting sun that you have a moment to breathe and think about all the things that just took place.
It’s at this time that everyone finishes running and takes a moment to catch their breath that you all realize Bilbo is missing, and you immediately curse yourself for not keeping a closer eye on him.
A couple of the dwarfs begin to blame each other and there’s some mumbling amongst themselves, but Thorin has another idea entirely about what really happened.
“I’ll tell you what happened. Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it! He’s thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out of his door! We will not be seeing our Hobbit again. He is long gone."
You purse your lips but say nothing despite your disagreement with his words; arguing with the people 'paying you’ isn’t the brightest idea, so it’s better to just keep your mouth shut.
And then, quite the peculiar thing, said hobbit steps out from behind a tree and states matter-of-factly, "No, he isn’t."
There is varying amounts of surprise and shock that wash throughout all of your expressions. Hell, your eyes even widen slightly when he appears so suddenly. How did you not notice him even with your ring on?
"Bilbo Baggins! I’ve never been so glad to see anyone in my life!” The gray wizard exclaims with a grand smile on his wrinkling face.
Kili speaks next, informing the little hobbit that there was little hope surrounding him. "Bilbo, we’d given you up!"
"How on earth did you get past the goblins?!” Fili wonders.
“How indeed…” Dwalin sounds suspicious almost when he repeats Fili’s question, but you’re entirely worried about something else.
“Are you alright, Bilbo?” You chime in before he can explain himself, stepping closer to give him a quick once over.
You were hired to protect the Durin’s, but you need all of them to get access to that mountain with ease.
Or, at least, that’s what you tell yourself.
The hobbit looks up at you and offers a slightly nervous smile, “I am fine. Just a few bumps and bruises."
"I want to know…,” Thorin’s voice breaks through your conversation as he asks, “Why did you come back?”
A quick moment of silence passes as you look down at your feet and listen carefully, actually a bit curious yourself.
It isn’t like you couldn’t do his part of the job for him, though your assignment is something else entirely, and he expressed his desire to leave right before you were all kidnapped by the goblins… so why would he come back?
“Look, I know you doubt me, I know you always have,” Bilbo begins with a slightly grim face, “And you’re right, I often think of Bag End. I miss my books. And my armchair. And my garden…” He trails off as a faraway look momentarily blurs his vision, probably imagining what he could be doing at home right now, and you all watch and listen carefully. “See, that’s where I belong. That’s home. And that’s why I came back, cause you don’t have one - a home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can.”
Your eyebrows furrow together when he finishes speaking his piece, because his words are… greatly troubling.
He was ready to leave it all behind before, mere seconds away from leaving back towards The Shire and Bag End, but here he is now. He came back because he genuinely wants to help; he wants them to reclaim their home and find their wandering origins.
Everyone is silent as they think over the words Bilbo speaks, and while it awes most of them, you only feel more bothered.
Such a kind hobbit who you may likely need to kill.
"That’s foolish.” You find yourself saying that before you can even think about it, something that’s been happening too often for your liking.
You get several shocked looks, hell, you’re shocked yourself, but you don’t take back your statement.
Where did this disdain come from all of a sudden? This disdain not towards the kind hearted hobbit, but towards yourself?
“You are not the person to be calling the actions of our Master Burglar, foolish.” Gandalf scolds, eyeing you with a pointed look. “I know your taunting and teasing towards the Goblin King was no accident or arrogance driven necessity. And I also know that you could have easily broken yourself free before harm befell upon you. I brought you along to do a job, and do this job you have - much too well. I thank you for the distraction, but your methods may have proved to be a mistake had I not arrived on time."
You look back at the gray wizard with an unwavering stare, eyes slightly narrowed as you attempt to glare him into submission; only, he doesn’t relent and stares right back at you.
"You came in time.” A weak defense.
“And if I hadn’t?” He asks, voice raising slightly. Gandalf doesn’t much like backtalk. “How far would you have taken it? Were you going to allow them to take your hands? To cut that trinket from your finger?"
This time you hesitate in replying, something akin to a pout tugging at your lips. "Of course not. I had faith that you would come, and you did…,” you trail off, then add begrudgingly, “And if you hadn’t, then I could have escaped quite easily."
Another silence filled by the two big egos facing off against each other.
Gandalf’s ego wins, unfortunately.
You relent and look away, catching the troubled gazes of Fili and Kili.
Did your actions really bother them that much?
"Well what do you suppose I should do? Let them harm you all?” You wouldn’t let that happen.
That thought that lingers behind your words makes your eyebrows knit together in confusion once again, and your gaze wanders away once more.
Now that you think about it, why did you do it? I mean, why did you really do it?
You knew they weren’t actually going to die just like that, he’s too scared of the pale orc to do that, but you did it anyways. The possibility of harm befalling upon these dwarfs actually… affected you.
Gandalf pauses and observes you carefully, then realization sparkles in those infuriatingly wise eyes of his.
“Well, no matter. I did not mean to scold you, for you are a very capable person, so I thank you for doing your job well and diligently.” He lets those words hang in the air for a time, then he moves on, “Now, we must discuss where we are and where we must go."
"I say-” Thorin begins, only to be cut off by howls and the sound of a gravely voice speaking in another language. “Out of the frying pan…” He sighs with a weary face.
“And into the fire! Run! Run!!” The gray wizard snaps.
You all begin your hasty retreat down the mountain, and at some point the sun begins to set.
The sky turns all sorts of vibrant shades of orange, blue, and red, and the light delicately kisses the peaks of each tree, mountain top, and surface. The air smells fresh, as it usually does following a hard rain, and the grass and leaves glisten healthy because of the drink offered to them by the sky. It’s a magnificent sight to behold, but none of you are able to appreciate it, for the beauty of nature is being darkened and tainted by the evil intent and fear.
Those nasty wargs chase you all down like prey, maybe that’s exactly what you are, meanwhile your feet take you as far away and as quickly as they can.
You jog behind the two youngest Durin’s, being as Thorin takes the lead as per usual, and keep a slow enough pace to avoid taking over them (they’re not the fastest group of dwarfs, after all). You can’t have them becoming warg food when you still need them to get you into that mountain…
“Pick up your feet more when you run!” You command, glancing behind you briefly to gauge just how close those bastards are.
They heed your advice and end up running just a bit faster, something that relieves you somewhat.
The land begins to thin out and the ground you run on narrows, thus forcing all of you onto a cliff filled with trees and a precipice topped with a leaning tree.
“Up into the trees, all of you! Come on, climb! Bilbo, climb!” Gandalf demands, jumping up to grab one of the low hanging branches and pulling himself up.
You stay planted firmly in place and wait for everyone to find a spot in a tree and climb to safety, and while everyone else, even Bombur, finds somewhere to avoid the bloodthirsty wargs, Bilbo is still running for the tree line.
A frustrated curse passes through your gritted teeth, but you waste no time in rushing forward and yanking Bilbo away from the jaws of an awaiting warg. You foot shoots up and crashes into the side of its face, successfully knocking it off course since you nailed it in the eye which gives you two enough time to sort things out.
“Quickly!” You hiss, leaning crouching down with your hands clasped in front of you, “I can boost you up, but you mustn’t waste anymore time!"
The little hobbit nods his head and steps his big right foot into your awaiting hands, and, once he’s secured, you launch him up and into the awaiting low hanging branches.
"Y/N!” Fili screams from above you, panic lining his voice.
Your gaze snaps forward just in time to see sharp teeth and brown fur, but right before those razor teeth can sink into the soft flesh of your neck, a rock comes sailing through the sky and nails the nasty beast right in the nose.
It whimpers and jerks its head off to the side, but you don’t waste anymore time in watching it freak out and instead roll around to the other side of the tree and jump up to grab a branch and pull yourself further up so they can’t get your feet.
You reach up to grasp another branch, but someone catches your hand instead and easily hauls you into another layer of the tree.
“I’ve got you.” It’s Dwalin, and he doesn’t let go of your hand right away until you’re secure.
“Thank you.” You dip your head after voicing your thanks then do a quick once-over to make sure everyone is safe in the trees, only, you don’t get the chance to finish that before those wild dogs begin to rip at the roots holding the strong pines into place.
One by one do each of the trees begin to lean and fall, creating a domino affect that forces all of you to hang vicariously over the edge of the cliffside.
A quick glance down shows you the imminent death that awaits you below, and, for the first time since this chase began, you fear for your and everyone else’s lives.
“Catch!” Kili yells to you, tossing a flaming pinecone your way.
Where did they get flaming pinecones?
Gandalf of course, you should’ve known even before you looked up.
You turn your attention ahead once more and pull your arm back, poised to throw the pinecone with all your might, only to stop mid-swing when something, or rather, someone, gets in your way.
Thorin Oakenshield stands on the trunk of the sinking tree with his weight distributed to maintain balance, and just ahead is Azog the Defiler, staring him down with an arrogant, sick smile.
Oh Jesus… this dwarf sure doesn’t make your job easy.
You throw the pinecone since the flames began to lick at your gloved fingers and move to stand up, but the branch you sit upon cracks and creaks, groaning under the sudden movement.
Shit.
If he dies the dwarfs may give up on the entire journey altogether and decide to leave the mountain alone, and then where will that leave you?
You don’t even want to think about it.
Another attempt is made to pull yourself up onto the thick trunk, but this time the entire branch cracks and breaks, falling out from beneath you as it hangs by the sparsely attached strings of ripped apart wood.
You just barely manage to throw yourself into the trunk and hang off the side, feet dangling in open air with nothing to leverage yourself with.
Panic blooms in your chest as you completely loose control over the situation, unable to even swing your legs up because of the way your arms can’t completely wrap around the trunk.
“No!” Dwalin screams just above you, catching your attention briefly despite your panic.
You look over to the side and see that Thorin has lost his fight against the pale orc. He lays on the ground, unmoving and defeated as another one of Azog’s companions raise its’ weapon above its’ head to kill the dwarf king.
“Damn it!” You hiss helplessly, pawing uselessly around the rough bark in search of any sort of leg up. “Thorin!"
This is it. They’re going to kill him and all of you are going to fall to your deaths, soaring through the sky for a brief time before you become nothing more than bloody splatters on the ground below.
The sound of metal hitting metal and the clashing of weapons draws your ear as you begin to slip further down the circumference of the trunk, but you can’t even turn to look because there’s nothing left for you to do.
The rest of your body drags your arms from around the tree and, in a last ditch effort to avoid the drop, you grasp the broken, hanging branch.
It snaps of as soon as your weight yanks it down, and then… you’re free falling.
Someone screams your name (is that Bofur?) but you don’t do anything.
You don’t writhe or scream; you don’t flail your arms or cry; you just stare up at the horror stricken faces and your partners in falling (Dori and Ori) as numbness overtakes your whole body.
Yes, your stomach drops as the feeling of falling sickens you, but in your heart, in your soul, you feel nothing.
It’s not like you’ve led a particularly good life or anything, but still, you don’t want to die. Even if there is nothing for you, no one that cares, you still don’t want to go; because once you’re dead, the only thing anyone will remember you as is a ruthless monster, a puppet of The Brotherhood.
You don’t want to die.
Maybe you should’ve rejected the job in the first place; maybe you should’ve made better designs in general; maybe you should’ve allowed yourself to let those foolish dwarfs and sweet hobbit close if to just feel a moment of belonging.
Little do you know, all of these thoughts will prove to complicate your mission further, because this is, in fact, not the end.
One moment you’re falling to your death while having an existential crisis, and the next you’re being snatched out of the sky by one of the Great Eagles.
