Forest Gold is a story prompted by @tacosockos’s ask. Thank you very much! I hope you’ll like the story as much as I did when I was writing it!
Relationships:Thorin x Reader
Rating:T
Warnings:none
* * *
Forest Gold
The warm sun shone through the canopy of tall pine trees, its rays illuminating the path before you. It was a summer morning, just after dawn, and you were walking through the forest at the foot of the Lonely Mountain. Looking around, you admired its natural ancient beauty, the softness of the moss beneath your feet, and enjoyed every breath of the cool, fresh air. Since you arrived in Middle Earth on a stormy night several months ago in mysterious circumstances, you still marveled at how unspoiled the nature in Rhovanion was. No pollution, no empty beer cans in the forests, no cigarette butts, no engine noises. Instead, there were crystal-clear rivers and lakes, plenty of animals everywhere you looked and the lush greenery. Never before have you seen so many shades of green. The newly sprouted blades of grass, the majestic ferns by a creek in the backwoods or the reeds growing by the Long Lake near the city of Esgaroth that was being slowly rebuilt.
Your path led you to a bank of a forest stream. You smiled widely, seeing a glimpse of gold among the grass. There they were! You looked around. Yes, this was a perfect spot for what you had in mind. You rested your travelling gear against the trunk of a nearby tree and approached the patch of wildflowers growing in the watery ground at the edge of the stream, their yellow, almost golden petals seemingly shining with the light of their own. The people of Dale called them “kingcups” and used this plant for medicinal purposes. That is why you came here, at least partially. You promised a local healer to bring her some of these plants. But you had also another idea on your mind.
It took you a while to gather enough flowers to fill your basket. Your boots were a bit soaked, but it was worth it. Your eyes quickly found a patch of grass and your hands started picking out the flower heads and arranging them in a spiral shape on the ground. This was something you used to do with your grandmother in her garden. She’d often say these flower mandalas would draw fairies to them, and if you ever were to meet one, this magical creature would fulfill your wish. You have grown out from believing in fairies years ago, but your habit stayed with you, fueling your creativity. Back home, you’d sometimes make a picture of the finished mandala and upload it to your Instagram, sharing your art with the wide world. You didn’t need much to create art. Nature provided everything you needed.
Humming a half-forgotten song from your childhood as you finished arranging the flowers, you suddenly heard a sound of a snapping branch. Someone was coming. As quickly as you could, you gathered your things and hid in the nearby bushes. The local people warned you against strangers in these parts. After the great Battle of Five Armies that happened over a year ago, a constant stream of travelers flowed into Rhovanion. Those newcomers were searching for better life, but there were brigands among them, too.
Someone entered the clearing in a few long strides. He wasn’t tall, but his posture emanated power and strength. Dark, wavy mane of hair cascaded down his wide shoulders. His bearded face was focused on the surroundings. Judging from the clothes and the bow he held in his hands, he had to be a hunter. And… a dwarf. This was the first dwarf you saw from such a close distance. You heard much about these proud people and their great kingdom of Erebor that was currently being rebuilt, but you had never even talked with one before.
The dwarven hunter took a few steps towards your hideout. A pair of deep-set eyes scanned the area. You held your breath and crouched lower among the bushes, hoping that he wouldn’t notice you. As he turned to his left, his gaze fell on your golden flower mandala. After approaching it, he studied it carefully and then took one of the flowers, bringing it to his nose. As he did so, a tiny smile tugged at the corner of his lips. You blinked in disbelief. Weren’t the dwarves supposed to be underground folk, loving only stone, metals and precious gems? The last thing you expected today was to see a dwarf enjoying the smell of a delicate forest flower. A flower you arranged yourself.
“Hey! Leave my flowers alone!” you heard your own voice.
In a blink of an eye, he turned to you, his bow aimed at you. Or rather, at your hideout. You muttered a curse. Brilliant, just brilliant.
“Reveal yourself!” You heard his deep voice. So that was how a dwarf sounded like. You had to admit to yourself that hearing him speak made you think of molten dark chocolate, rich and full-flavoured.
You decided not to make a move. The last thing you wanted to do was to be shot by his arrow. It looked kinda… sharp. And something told you that this hunter had a good aim. A sigh escaped your lips. You just had to stay still. Maybe he’d leave you in peace. Maybe. Yeah, right.
“I mean you no harm. You can come out now. I have already put my bow away,” his words reached you. The way he spoke made you think of a horse whisperer trying to calm down a startled steed.
Feeling the taste of defeat in your mouth, you reluctantly came out from your hideout.
“I thought you were a bandit, Master Dwarf,” you admitted. Now, when you had the chance to take a better look at him, you could clearly see that he didn’t look like a brigand at all. His weapons and clothes were of good quality, and he wore several rings on his strong hands. Those rings definitely weren’t trinkets bought at a village fair. The dwarf looked more like a proud, ancient warrior than anything else.
“There are no bandits in the forests of the Lonely Mountain, my lady,” he shook his head. You heard the jingling of the silver beads in his hair, sunrays dancing among them. A peculiar thought appeared in your mind. What would be like to run your hand through this rich mane of hair? It looked so soft… Would he let you make a braid? Just like the ones that hung from his temples, falling all the way to his chest. You felt your cheeks burning up. What on earth made you think of such things about an unknown dwarf you’ve just met?
“I’m not a lady,” you stated. You’ve never been called a lady before, and especially not by a courteous dwarf.
“Who are you then?” his brilliant blue eyes set on your face. “A forest fairy protecting her magic circle?”
The dwarf pointed at your flower mandala.
You chuckled, “There’s nothing magical about my flower art. It’s meant to be looked at and enjoyed.”
“Are you sure?” he tilted his head and took a step towards you. Your eyes moved upwards, sliding along the intricate embroideries on his tunic hugging against the deep contours of his chest. The garment revealed a small patch of tanned skin at his throat, emphasizing his muscular neck. His strongly defined jaw was covered with a lush beard that hid a surprisingly soft line of his lips. The patrician nose set above it made you think of the gigantic dwarven sculptures that guarded the entrance to the kingdom of Erebor. And then there were his eyes, those twin mysterious cerulean pools that kept on searching your face. “There is an old legend among my people about the forests of the Lonely Mountain. They say that you can sometimes find a flower fairy ring here. If the time is right, its magic will take you wherever your heart longs to go.”
“It is a beautiful legend, but that’s all there is to it. An old tale,” you replied. Even a baby knew that there was no such thing as magic. And no, the way you arrived to this new, wonderous world had nothing to do with magic whatsoever. You were sure that science could explain it well. Perhaps a lightning struck too close to you that night, and there was a shift in the magnetic fields, and this was simply a parallel universe or…
A chuckle brought you back to reality.
“As you wish, my lady. Forgive me my manners, this unexpected meeting made me forget them completely,” he made a courteous bow. “My name is Thorin. May I ask how I should address you?”
You gulped. Your name was too unusual and too modern for this place. If the dwarf heard it, it would happen just like it did in Esgaroth and several other places. The locals weren’t fond of weird strangers. There would be strange looks, prying questions and tons of suspicion. Somehow, you didn’t want the majestic dwarf in front of you to look at you the way they did. You had to think of something.
“My name… Wait, did you say Thorin? As in Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain?!” even you, a newcomer to Middle Earth, heard about the dwarven king who led a bold charge against the Orc and Warg armies and defeated them, taking the life of their leader, Azog.
“These are just titles. Here, today, in the forest, I’m just Thorin, my lady without a name,” he smiled, but you could see a shadow passing his eyes, fleeting and deep.
Your mind barely registered his gaze, busy processing the current situation. You, a girl from far, far away, were standing in the presence of a real king! And a dwarf! What were you supposed to do? Bow? Curtsy? Call him “your majesty”? Or was it “your highness”? No, he said he was “just Thorin”. Pheew. But were you allowed to sit down in his presence? Or speak without being asked to? Oh, wait, he asked you a question and you haven’t answered it yet!
“I come from a faraway land. My name may sound alien to you and… and difficult to pronounce!” you blurted out.
“Would you allow me to call you Kingcup, my lady? Like these golden flowers?” his eyes traveled to the mandala you created on the ground.
“Kingcup…” you whispered to yourself, looking at the flower petals glistening in the sun.
“These flowers… We call them ‘forest gold’. Small and delicate, but sturdy. They run through the woods like veins of gold through the stone. And their reflections in water make forest streams look like molten gold,” his voice washed over you like smoothest silk.
“I think I can live with a name like that,” you smiled shyly at him.
“You do me a great honor, lady Kingcup,” his voice deepened, rumbling in his chest.
“I told you, king Thorin, I’m not a lady.”
“If you are not a lady then I am not a king,” he stated, responding to your smile with an amused glint in his eye.
“Sounds fair to me… Thorin,” you whispered his name, barely able to look into his eyes, hoping he would not mind your casual way of speaking to the king of the famous dwarven kingdom. He nodded in return.
“Since we are properly introduced now, may I invite you for breakfast? I must admit I haven’t eaten today yet and my friend Bombur, a brilliant cook, prepared some delicious scones with cheese for the road. I will gladly share them with you.”
The thought of a meal made your stomach rumble and you agreed almost instantly. The breakfast turned into a brunch when you discovered that you both were well equipped with delicious food. While you ate, you talked about everything and nothing; you were curious about Erebor, and Thorin asked about your recent travels through Rhovanion. You even shared a few amusing anecdotes from your lives and you quickly forgot you were spending time in the company of a king. To be honest, it felt as if you’d known each other for ages, sharing several interests, including the love of nature, both above and below ground.
“So you say that the dwarves think gold is the most precious metal?” you swallowed the last bite of smoked cheese.
“A metal worthy of kings,” Thorin nodded, taking a sip from his water bag.
“What about forest gold?” you gestured towards the flowers in your basket, the ones that you gathered in the morning.
“It is the most precious part of the forest… Kingcup…” his glittering blue eyes traveled to your face and you had to look away. Did he mean the flowers…. Or…?
“Close your eyes, please,” you said suddenly, a new and crazy idea popping in your head.
“I beg your pardon?”
“If you close your eyes, I’ll show you the treasure of the forest,” you grinned mischievously. “It will just take a moment. Please?”
Apparently Thorin couldn’t say no to the pleading look on your face and capitulated. You reached towards the basket and soon your hands were working swiftly, binding the flowers together.
“Can I look now?” he asked, his back resting against the tree behind him.
“Patience,” you giggled. Your new “work of art” was ready. You moved towards Thorin and placed the golden flower crown on his temple. Your hand brushed against his hair. It was pleasantly soft under your touch. As you took a breath, a smell of pine needles, bonfire smoke and leather surrounded you. You expected a mighty king to smell like precious oils and heavy, exotic flower essences. Instead, his scent was simple, raw, and manly, and quickly went to your head. Looking at his calm features, all the worries gone from his handsome face, you almost missed the moment when he opened his eyes. You were kneeling next to him, your hands resting at his temples along with the flower crown. His face was surprisingly close to yours. You felt the warmth of his body and could almost brush your nose against his. Uh-oh. You swallowed. He blinked.
“What do we have here?” he cast a half-lidded glance at you and moved his hands to his head.
“Something worthy of a king. The golden crown of the forest,” you chuckled, recalling your idea, and desperately trying to forget the way his skin brushed against yours as he reached for the flower crown, and the pleasant sensation you felt. “No, no, don’t take it off! Come with me!”
You got up and quickly marched to the edge of the stream. Thorin joined you after a few moments.
“You are not going to drown me, are you?” he raised one of his dark eyebrows suspiciously, a smile dancing on his lips. It suited him well.
“It depends on how you are going to react to my gift!” you giggled. “Now, look into the water and tell me what you think!”
“It is truly a golden crown,” the dwarven king stared into his reflection in the stream and chuckled. “Who would have thought that the forest was full of such riches? I thank you kindly for this generous gift, Kingcup.”
“You like it? What a relief! I don’t have to drown you, then. All is well!” you grinned and then both of you burst out in laughter. Somehow, it felt good laughing beside him. It felt right.
“And to think such a treasure came from under your skilled fingers! I have been lucky to have met you here today. You are magical indeed, just like your fairy ring,” he winked at you, looking more like a playful young dwarf than a king.
“I tell you, this is just a flower arrangement, not a magical place!” you protested.
“There is only one way to find out, isn’t there?” he smirked and reached out his hand to you.
“Very well,” you agreed with a sigh and placed your hand in his. He squeezed it gently but reassuringly, smiling at you, as you both stepped inside your golden flower mandala.
There was a splash of emotion in his eyes when he said, “Let us see where your magic takes us.”
You barely managed to close your eyes when a warm breath of wind caressed your face and suddenly you felt dizzy. A sensation of falling flooded your senses. A few heartbeats later everything stopped. In the surrounding silence, you could only hear your and Thorin quickened breaths. You still felt how warm his skin was, his fingers wrapped around your palms.
“Is it done?” you asked, not daring to open your eyes yet.
“It is. Your magic is truly astonishing,” Thorin replied, and you recognized notes of admiration in his voice.
The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was his face. He was smiling, and there was something new in his expression; something that you couldn’t decipher.
And then you looked around.
“But we’re still in the same place!” you exclaimed. “It was just as I told you, there is no magic here.”
“Ah but there is. Your magic,” he looked at you expectantly, his features softening.
“My… magic?” you frowned. What did he mean by that? And why did he close the distance between you? Oh, and why did he raise your hand to his lips, kissing it reverently? By the way, his lips turned out to be even softer than you imagined, and even warmer, almost scorching.
“Your magic worked perfectly well,” he murmured huskily, his breath fanning the delicate skin on the back of your hand. “It brought me to the place my heart longed to be, sweet Kingcup.”
“And where is that?” you whispered back, trying to find the answer in the bottomless depths of his cerulean eyes. And then you heard his voice.
“By the side of my forest queen.”
* * *
Don’t forget to let me know what you think about this story!
Happy Midsummer weekend to all who are celebrating!
You know how on Midsummer you are supposed to gather seven different flowers or herbs and put them under your pillow to dream about the person you are going to spend your life with?
I’ve been talking with @linasofia about how Midsummer would look in Erebor. I got a little bit inspired, and this is how this fic came to be. Thank you for the inspo and for your support
Let me know how you like it. If this little story catches your interest, I may write more, so let me know if I should continue!
Rating:G
* * *
Thistle. A Midsummer Night’s Dream
“Thorin, let’s go! Frerin is waiting for us! He has already left!” Dis tugged at Thorin’s sleeve.
“Patience, let us wait for a better moment,” he leaned towards her and whispered.
They were sitting at a large table in the Main Hall of Erebor, surrounded by song, dance, festive music, delicious food, and happy Dwarves. The whole Erebor was celebrating Midsummer. Everyone was there, even their Grandfather. King Thror had been lately avoiding the crowds and spending more and more time in the treasure chamber, which worried Thorin immensely. Now however, his long, elegantly coiffed silver beard glistened with beads and precious gems, and he seemed as cheerful as he used to when Thorin and his siblings were tiny pebbles sitting on his lap and playing with his crown. It warmed Thorin’s heart to see his Grandfather smiling once again, without that ominous dark frown on his face.
The King stood up and proposed a toast to the prosperity of the kingdom. Cheers and merriment followed, and in the commotion, Thorin and Dis managed to sneak out, leaving the sounds of the feast behind them.
“Do you think Frerin asked Dvala to join us?” Dis wondered as they were walking along one of the corridors leading out of the Mountain. Thorin frowned, “I thought we agreed on keeping this silly idea a secret.”
“Oh, come on, Brother, do not be so gloomy!” she nudged him with her elbow. “You can survive one evening of fun in a good company. Dvala is a sweet girl, I am quite fond of her!”
“Frerin should focus on his mining apprenticeship, not on girls.”
“Just like you are focusing on your dwarven law studies by training with Dwalin instead?”
They took a turn and walked down the staircase that led to the gates of Erebor. Frerin was supposed to meet them nearby. Thorin grunted, “Grandfather says he expects his heirs to be well-versed in many different…”
“You’re such a bore, Thorin! There’s more to life than duties and studying,” his sister insisted, making him groan inwardly. “You will see, one day you are going to meet a lovely girl who will steal your heart and show you that there are more things to life than musty old tomes and swords.”
“I doubt it. I do not wish to complicate my life with affairs of the heart. I am expected to wed someone chosen by Mother and Grandmother. My marriage has to benefit our kingdom. Now, we need strong allies more than ever,” a shadow passed Thorin’s face at the thought of the recent serious disagreement their grandfather had with his brother Gror, the lord of the Iron Hills, ceasing diplomatic relations between both dwarven strongholds. And then, there was that catastrophe of an audience when King Thror suddenly refused to hand over the necklace made of the Gems of Lasgalen to King Thranduil. As it turned out, the ruler of the Woodland Realm hadn’t planned to pay for the work of dwarven master jewelers in the first place, but Thorin had seen King Thror solving more delicate issues without any problems before. Now, whenever he looked into the eyes of his Grandfather, he saw only darkness and greed. But not tonight. Tonight they sparkled with joy, and that was a blessing from Mahal.
“Stop talking about politics, Brother!” Dis scolded him once again. “It’s Midsummer today, have you forgotten? We are going to sneak out of the Mountain, gather seven different flowers, make wreaths out of them, and then…”
I love the dynamics between Thorin, Dis, and Frerin. They are adorable together; it’s so nice to see them enjoying themselves and acting like kids without any danger ahead.
And the dream!! I’m so intrigued! I especially loved this line: “It seems like a wondrous place to live at,” she confessed, bringing a delicate white flower to her nose and smelling it with her eyes closed, a soft smile tugging at the corner of her lips. He wanted to smell it together with her. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. And he forgot that he was supposed to dislike flowers.” Thorin, you cutie!!
I’m always looking forward your comments @legolasbadass, thank you so much for reading and reblogging
And yes, young prince Thorin is still idealistic and meeting this mysterious maiden hit him hard ☺️ Let’s hope he doesn’t lose his head completely!
Happy Midsummer weekend to all who are celebrating!
You know how on Midsummer you are supposed to gather seven different flowers or herbs and put them under your pillow to dream about the person you are going to spend your life with?
I’ve been talking with @linasofia about how Midsummer would look in Erebor. I got a little bit inspired, and this is how this fic came to be. Thank you for the inspo and for your support
Let me know how you like it. If this little story catches your interest, I may write more, so let me know if I should continue!
Rating:G
* * *
Thistle. A Midsummer Night’s Dream
“Thorin, let’s go! Frerin is waiting for us! He has already left!” Dis tugged at Thorin’s sleeve.
“Patience, let us wait for a better moment,” he leaned towards her and whispered.
They were sitting at a large table in the Main Hall of Erebor, surrounded by song, dance, festive music, delicious food, and happy Dwarves. The whole Erebor was celebrating Midsummer. Everyone was there, even their Grandfather. King Thror had been lately avoiding the crowds and spending more and more time in the treasure chamber, which worried Thorin immensely. Now however, his long, elegantly coiffed silver beard glistened with beads and precious gems, and he seemed as cheerful as he used to when Thorin and his siblings were tiny pebbles sitting on his lap and playing with his crown. It warmed Thorin’s heart to see his Grandfather smiling once again, without that ominous dark frown on his face.
The King stood up and proposed a toast to the prosperity of the kingdom. Cheers and merriment followed, and in the commotion, Thorin and Dis managed to sneak out, leaving the sounds of the feast behind them.
“Do you think Frerin asked Dvala to join us?” Dis wondered as they were walking along one of the corridors leading out of the Mountain. Thorin frowned, “I thought we agreed on keeping this silly idea a secret.”
“Oh, come on, Brother, do not be so gloomy!” she nudged him with her elbow. “You can survive one evening of fun in a good company. Dvala is a sweet girl, I am quite fond of her!”
“Frerin should focus on his mining apprenticeship, not on girls.”
“Just like you are focusing on your dwarven law studies by training with Dwalin instead?”
They took a turn and walked down the staircase that led to the gates of Erebor. Frerin was supposed to meet them nearby. Thorin grunted, “Grandfather says he expects his heirs to be well-versed in many different…”
“You’re such a bore, Thorin! There’s more to life than duties and studying,” his sister insisted, making him groan inwardly. “You will see, one day you are going to meet a lovely girl who will steal your heart and show you that there are more things to life than musty old tomes and swords.”
“I doubt it. I do not wish to complicate my life with affairs of the heart. I am expected to wed someone chosen by Mother and Grandmother. My marriage has to benefit our kingdom. Now, we need strong allies more than ever,” a shadow passed Thorin’s face at the thought of the recent serious disagreement their grandfather had with his brother Gror, the lord of the Iron Hills, ceasing diplomatic relations between both dwarven strongholds. And then, there was that catastrophe of an audience when King Thror suddenly refused to hand over the necklace made of the Gems of Lasgalen to King Thranduil. As it turned out, the ruler of the Woodland Realm hadn’t planned to pay for the work of dwarven master jewelers in the first place, but Thorin had seen King Thror solving more delicate issues without any problems before. Now, whenever he looked into the eyes of his Grandfather, he saw only darkness and greed. But not tonight. Tonight they sparkled with joy, and that was a blessing from Mahal.
“Stop talking about politics, Brother!” Dis scolded him once again. “It’s Midsummer today, have you forgotten? We are going to sneak out of the Mountain, gather seven different flowers, make wreaths out of them, and then…”
Honey… You know that it would catch our interest! Everything you write does, tbh!
I love this so much! Thorin, Frerin and Dis’ dynamic was amazing! How Dis has her older brothers (and Dwalin) wrapped around her little finger through her genius shenanigans is absolute perfection!
Their encounter through the dream left me wanting for more. When would they meet? How? Who is she, after all? Because we have only her name and looks.
I can’t wait for another chapter!
Ahhh now I’m blushing and don’t know to say!
Thank you so much @justfollowtheroad for your wonderful words of encouragement, I’ll definitely keep in mind what you like and think of it when planning to fill the next chapter :) It may contain more info about Saga from the elven realm.
Happy Midsummer weekend to all who are celebrating!
You know how on Midsummer you are supposed to gather seven different flowers or herbs and put them under your pillow to dream about the person you are going to spend your life with?
I’ve been talking with @linasofia about how Midsummer would look in Erebor. I got a little bit inspired, and this is how this fic came to be. Thank you for the inspo and for your support
Let me know how you like it. If this little story catches your interest, I may write more, so let me know if I should continue!
Rating:G
* * *
Thistle. A Midsummer Night’s Dream
“Thorin, let’s go! Frerin is waiting for us! He has already left!” Dis tugged at Thorin’s sleeve.
“Patience, let us wait for a better moment,” he leaned towards her and whispered.
They were sitting at a large table in the Main Hall of Erebor, surrounded by song, dance, festive music, delicious food, and happy Dwarves. The whole Erebor was celebrating Midsummer. Everyone was there, even their Grandfather. King Thror had been lately avoiding the crowds and spending more and more time in the treasure chamber, which worried Thorin immensely. Now however, his long, elegantly coiffed silver beard glistened with beads and precious gems, and he seemed as cheerful as he used to when Thorin and his siblings were tiny pebbles sitting on his lap and playing with his crown. It warmed Thorin’s heart to see his Grandfather smiling once again, without that ominous dark frown on his face.
The King stood up and proposed a toast to the prosperity of the kingdom. Cheers and merriment followed, and in the commotion, Thorin and Dis managed to sneak out, leaving the sounds of the feast behind them.
“Do you think Frerin asked Dvala to join us?” Dis wondered as they were walking along one of the corridors leading out of the Mountain. Thorin frowned, “I thought we agreed on keeping this silly idea a secret.”
“Oh, come on, Brother, do not be so gloomy!” she nudged him with her elbow. “You can survive one evening of fun in a good company. Dvala is a sweet girl, I am quite fond of her!”
“Frerin should focus on his mining apprenticeship, not on girls.”
“Just like you are focusing on your dwarven law studies by training with Dwalin instead?”
They took a turn and walked down the staircase that led to the gates of Erebor. Frerin was supposed to meet them nearby. Thorin grunted, “Grandfather says he expects his heirs to be well-versed in many different…”
“You’re such a bore, Thorin! There’s more to life than duties and studying,” his sister insisted, making him groan inwardly. “You will see, one day you are going to meet a lovely girl who will steal your heart and show you that there are more things to life than musty old tomes and swords.”
“I doubt it. I do not wish to complicate my life with affairs of the heart. I am expected to wed someone chosen by Mother and Grandmother. My marriage has to benefit our kingdom. Now, we need strong allies more than ever,” a shadow passed Thorin’s face at the thought of the recent serious disagreement their grandfather had with his brother Gror, the lord of the Iron Hills, ceasing diplomatic relations between both dwarven strongholds. And then, there was that catastrophe of an audience when King Thror suddenly refused to hand over the necklace made of the Gems of Lasgalen to King Thranduil. As it turned out, the ruler of the Woodland Realm hadn’t planned to pay for the work of dwarven master jewelers in the first place, but Thorin had seen King Thror solving more delicate issues without any problems before. Now, whenever he looked into the eyes of his Grandfather, he saw only darkness and greed. But not tonight. Tonight they sparkled with joy, and that was a blessing from Mahal.
“Stop talking about politics, Brother!” Dis scolded him once again. “It’s Midsummer today, have you forgotten? We are going to sneak out of the Mountain, gather seven different flowers, make wreaths out of them, and then…”
This was….amazing, wonderful, sweet and beyond my expectations!! I love how you captured the connections between Thorin, Dis and Frerin. And I would love to hear the talk Thorin is planning to have with Dwalin. Poor Dwalin, he better be honest! And the dream!!! I will keep the warm feeling in my heart for a long time. You picked the perfect name for her ”Saga”. Thank you so much for writing and sharing this. Please continue the story, we all need a Midsummer Night’s Dream! ❤️❤️
As always, your reblogs leave me speechless and I’m melting inside You’re encouraging me to write more in such a wonderful way! Thank you so much
I’m happy you liked her name, it’s so telling. And those two definitely have a story to tell…
P.S. I’m already thinking about the next chapter :)
Happy Midsummer weekend to all who are celebrating!
You know how on Midsummer you are supposed to gather seven different flowers or herbs and put them under your pillow to dream about the person you are going to spend your life with?
I’ve been talking with @linasofia about how Midsummer would look in Erebor. I got a little bit inspired, and this is how this fic came to be. Thank you for the inspo and for your support
Let me know how you like it. If this little story catches your interest, I may write more, so let me know if I should continue!
* * *
Thistle. A Midsummer Night’s Dream
“Thorin, let’s go! Frerin is waiting for us! He has already left!” Dis tugged at Thorin’s sleeve.
“Patience, let us wait for a better moment,” he leaned towards her and whispered.
They were sitting at a large table in the Main Hall of Erebor, surrounded by song, dance, festive music, delicious food, and happy Dwarves. The whole Erebor was celebrating Midsummer. Everyone was there, even their Grandfather. King Thror had been lately avoiding the crowds and spending more and more time in the treasure chamber, which worried Thorin immensely. Now however, his long, elegantly coiffed silver beard glistened with beads and precious gems, and he seemed as cheerful as he used to when Thorin and his siblings were tiny pebbles sitting on his lap and playing with his crown. It warmed Thorin’s heart to see his Grandfather smiling once again, without that ominous dark frown on his face.
The King stood up and proposed a toast to the prosperity of the kingdom. Cheers and merriment followed, and in the commotion, Thorin and Dis managed to sneak out, leaving the sounds of the feast behind them.
“Do you think Frerin asked Dvala to join us?” Dis wondered as they were walking along one of the corridors leading out of the Mountain. Thorin frowned, “I thought we agreed on keeping this silly idea a secret.”
“Oh, come on, Brother, do not be so gloomy!” she nudged him with her elbow. “You can survive one evening of fun in a good company. Dvala is a sweet girl, I am quite fond of her!”
“Frerin should focus on his mining apprenticeship, not on girls.”
“Just like you are focusing on your dwarven law studies by training with Dwalin instead?”
They took a turn and walked down the staircase that led to the gates of Erebor. Frerin was supposed to meet them nearby. Thorin grunted, “Grandfather says he expects his heirs to be well-versed in many different…”
“You’re such a bore, Thorin! There’s more to life than duties and studying,” his sister insisted, making him groan inwardly. “You will see, one day you are going to meet a lovely girl who will steal your heart and show you that there are more things to life than musty old tomes and swords.”
“I doubt it. I do not wish to complicate my life with affairs of the heart. I am expected to wed someone chosen by Mother and Grandmother. My marriage has to benefit our kingdom. Now, we need strong allies more than ever,” a shadow passed Thorin’s face at the thought of the recent serious disagreement their grandfather had with his brother Gror, the lord of the Iron Hills, ceasing diplomatic relations between both dwarven strongholds. And then, there was that catastrophe of an audience when King Thror suddenly refused to hand over the necklace made of the Gems of Lasgalen to King Thranduil. As it turned out, the ruler of the Woodland Realm hadn’t planned to pay for the work of dwarven master jewelers in the first place, but Thorin had seen King Thror solving more delicate issues without any problems before. Now, whenever he looked into the eyes of his Grandfather, he saw only darkness and greed. But not tonight. Tonight they sparkled with joy, and that was a blessing from Mahal.
“Stop talking about politics, Brother!” Dis scolded him once again. “It’s Midsummer today, have you forgotten? We are going to sneak out of the Mountain, gather seven different flowers, make wreaths out of them, and then…”
Did this little story interest me? Do you really need to ask? Please write a sequel (imagine me sitting on my knees, looking up to you with my sweetest puppy eyes)
I loved their sibling dynamic, there isn’t much young Thorin, Frerin and Dis content around. Also, Dís and Dwalin? Yes please!
Great work as always
You’re not only super sweet, but you’re making me blush! I’m glad to hear you enjoyed the trio and their shenanigans. What a shame the happiness will soon end…
Happy Midsummer weekend to all who are celebrating!
You know how on Midsummer you are supposed to gather seven different flowers or herbs and put them under your pillow to dream about the person you are going to spend your life with?
I’ve been talking with @linasofia about how Midsummer would look in Erebor. I got a little bit inspired, and this is how this fic came to be. Thank you for the inspo and for your support
Let me know how you like it. If this little story catches your interest, I may write more, so let me know if I should continue!
Rating:G
* * *
Thistle. A Midsummer Night’s Dream
“Thorin, let’s go! Frerin is waiting for us! He has already left!” Dis tugged at Thorin’s sleeve.
“Patience, let us wait for a better moment,” he leaned towards her and whispered.
They were sitting at a large table in the Main Hall of Erebor, surrounded by song, dance, festive music, delicious food, and happy Dwarves. The whole Erebor was celebrating Midsummer. Everyone was there, even their Grandfather. King Thror had been lately avoiding the crowds and spending more and more time in the treasure chamber, which worried Thorin immensely. Now however, his long, elegantly coiffed silver beard glistened with beads and precious gems, and he seemed as cheerful as he used to when Thorin and his siblings were tiny pebbles sitting on his lap and playing with his crown. It warmed Thorin’s heart to see his Grandfather smiling once again, without that ominous dark frown on his face.
The King stood up and proposed a toast to the prosperity of the kingdom. Cheers and merriment followed, and in the commotion, Thorin and Dis managed to sneak out, leaving the sounds of the feast behind them.
“Do you think Frerin asked Dvala to join us?” Dis wondered as they were walking along one of the corridors leading out of the Mountain. Thorin frowned, “I thought we agreed on keeping this silly idea a secret.”
“Oh, come on, Brother, do not be so gloomy!” she nudged him with her elbow. “You can survive one evening of fun in a good company. Dvala is a sweet girl, I am quite fond of her!”
“Frerin should focus on his mining apprenticeship, not on girls.”
“Just like you are focusing on your dwarven law studies by training with Dwalin instead?”
They took a turn and walked down the staircase that led to the gates of Erebor. Frerin was supposed to meet them nearby. Thorin grunted, “Grandfather says he expects his heirs to be well-versed in many different…”
“You’re such a bore, Thorin! There’s more to life than duties and studying,” his sister insisted, making him groan inwardly. “You will see, one day you are going to meet a lovely girl who will steal your heart and show you that there are more things to life than musty old tomes and swords.”
“I doubt it. I do not wish to complicate my life with affairs of the heart. I am expected to wed someone chosen by Mother and Grandmother. My marriage has to benefit our kingdom. Now, we need strong allies more than ever,” a shadow passed Thorin’s face at the thought of the recent serious disagreement their grandfather had with his brother Gror, the lord of the Iron Hills, ceasing diplomatic relations between both dwarven strongholds. And then, there was that catastrophe of an audience when King Thror suddenly refused to hand over the necklace made of the Gems of Lasgalen to King Thranduil. As it turned out, the ruler of the Woodland Realm hadn’t planned to pay for the work of dwarven master jewelers in the first place, but Thorin had seen King Thror solving more delicate issues without any problems before. Now, whenever he looked into the eyes of his Grandfather, he saw only darkness and greed. But not tonight. Tonight they sparkled with joy, and that was a blessing from Mahal.
“Stop talking about politics, Brother!” Dis scolded him once again. “It’s Midsummer today, have you forgotten? We are going to sneak out of the Mountain, gather seven different flowers, make wreaths out of them, and then…”
“Only if you’re going to make the wreaths for us, Dis!” Frerin exclaimed, jumping from behind one of the green marble columns.
“Do you want everyone to hear us, you clot?!” she hissed, making Thorin smirk. Dis wasn’t of battle age yet, but she already started resembling their mother more and more, growing just as fearless and fierce. She rested her fists on her hips, stomped her foot, and declared, “You are going to make your midsummer wreaths yourselves! That’s what the tradition says!” “Remind me, brother, why are we doing this?” Frerin rolled his eyes and looked at Thorin helplessly.
“Dis bribed you shamelessly, and I… may have lost a bet,” Thorin admitted reluctantly. Indeed, he made a bet with his sweet, little, supposedly innocent sister. A simple bet, and a very stupid one. He still couldn’t believe he let himself be tricked so easily. Dis was supposed to challenge Dwalin to an arm-wrestling match. If she were to win, Thorin would fulfill her wish. Just one simple wish. But if she were to lose, she would write a two-scroll essay on the history of settlement in the Blue Mountains for him, a week’s worth of work. He hated history, but his tutor was very exigent. Besides, since Dwalin was a formidable arm-wrestler, Thorin was sure his best friend would win. To his dismay, Dwalin didn’t, and Thorin still had trouble wrapping his mind around that fact. Dis. Won an arm-wrestling match. With Dwalin, one of the strongest Dwarves he knew. He still remembered how Dwalin grinned at him in triumph, pushing her arm down slowly, but then Dis gasped quietly. Dwalin looked at her as she said, or rather purred, “Oh, my, you are really strong!”, and then she batted her eyelashes. This was enough for the mighty Dwalin: distracted, he loosened his grip – and that was exactly what Dis was waiting for: she slammed his arm down in a blink of an eye.
And now Thorin had to fulfill his little sister’s wish and follow her out of the Mountain instead of drinking ale with Dwalin and discussing his latest axe design. Who would have thought that younger sisters were such a menace?
“You are doing this because you are my beloved brothers and care for me greatly,” Dis grinned and added with a wink. “We can’t win with her, Thorin, can we?” Frerin looked at him pleadingly.
“A warrior knows when a battle is lost. We must wait for a better opportunity to counterattack,” he offered, making an imitation of Lord Fundin and his lectures on war strategy, causing his brother to chuckle.
When all three of them finally found themselves on the slopes of the Lonely Mountain, the summer evening surrounded them with warmth. Scents of nature wafted into Thorin’s nose. It was long after sunset, but the surroundings were bathed in the silvery light of the moon. In the clear air, Thorin could see the silver ribbon of the River Running below and the distant lights of Dale. “Granny says it’s the perfect time for picking the midsummer flowers!” Dis announced behind him. Frerin groaned in despair and followed her, but Thorin didn’t move. Perhaps if he pretended he hadn’t heard her she would let him be, he thought. “Thorin! You lost the bet, remember?” his sister addressed him pointedly and he had to capitulate.
“I do. Something tells me that you will never let me forget about it for as long as we live,” Thorin offered, disheartened. It turned out that picking flowers was much easier than he thought. Besides, he wanted to be done with that silly flower business as soon as possible and return back to the Mountain.
“So, Frerin, why haven’t you invited Dvala tonight?” Dis asked in a light-hearted tone after they wreaked sufficient havoc on the meadow. She was busy weaving her wreath that consisted of lots of red, yellow, and blue flowers. Thorin hadn’t the slightest idea what each of them was called nor did he care. After a pause, Frerin responded, sticking his tongue out as he tried to copy her movements, working on a bunch of pink flowers, “I did, but her aunt wouldn’t let her go.” “Oh, bother, that aunt of hers. Oh, I know!” Dis smiled mischievously, “I will talk with Mother, and she will invite them both for a picnic, so you and Dvala can…” Thorin’s sister’s voice drifted off into the air as he shook his head, focusing on his own cursed wreath. After having his fingers assaulted with thorns, he came to the conclusion that neither thistle nor blackthorn twigs were the best choices for this pointless task. “Great! Now, put your wreaths on your heads and show me how you look!” Dis ordered. Thorin raised an eyebrow, “Is this really necessary?” “Dwalin says that if you give me any problems, he will stop training with you!” she crossed her arms across her chest. “Traitor,” Thorin muttered. He expected many things but not his best friend taking his sister’s side.
“Are you surprised, Thorin?” Frerin chuckled, putting his pink wreath on his head and making a funny face. “You should have seen them both in the northern passage! Oh, Dwalin, those flowers are so pretty! – Not as pretty as ye are!” He imitated Dis’ and Dwalin’s voices and then proceeded to make kissing noises.
“Be quiet, Frerin, or I’ll tell Mother that I’ve found Principles of Love and Lust under your bed!” Dis furrowed her brow. It was interesting, Thorin observed, to see how Frerin’s face turned from pale to strawberry red. And as for Dis and the kissing noises, he decided to procure a cask of ale and visit Dwalin to assess the intentions that he might have towards his little sister. They will either drink the ale together or he would smash the wooden cask on his best friend’s stupid head. That thought put him in a somewhat better mood.
“Tell me, sister, how do I look?” Thorin put that misery of a wreath on his head. The things he has to endure for his siblings.
“Thorin!” she clasped her hands and beamed. Thorin tried to ignore Frerin’s chuckling from behind. “You look stunning! Like the Forest King in his flower crown!” “Are you telling me I look like the ruler of Mirkwood? Like an elf?” he huffed. “Not at all, silly! More like one of those fairy tale creatures, with horns, furry legs, and hooves. Like a grumpy satyr!” giggling, she closed the distance between them, stood on her tiptoes, and placed a wet, affectionate kiss on his cheek.
“Thank you,” she whispered into his ear.
“How long are we supposed to wear those wreaths?” Frerin said before Thorin could say anything.
“Until you go to bed tonight. Make sure to put them under your pillows and then each of you is going to dream about the love of your life. At least that is what Granny says!” Dis explained, putting her own wreath on her head.
“That means Thorin is going to dream of Deathless and his anvil!” Frerin sniggered.
***
Thorin hadn’t given much thought to his sister’s last words until he returned to his chambers. Getting ready to retire for the night, he removed the prickly wreath from his head with a grunt as it turned out to be entangled in his braids. It took him a while to separate his hair from the stems, twigs, and flowers and Thorin solemnly promised himself to comb and wash his hair properly first thing in the morning. Falling on his bed in exhaustion, he managed to put the mutilated plants under his pillow, just like he promised his sister. And in the morning, he would have a serious talk with Dwalin.
Sleep came to him quickly, mere moments after he closed his eyes.
He stood at the edge of a forest clearing, breathless. She was there, sitting with her back towards him, in the middle of a runestone circle. He could make out the shapes and Khuzdul runes carved into them, but he paid them no heed, his eyes drawn to her bright silhouette. Bathed in sunlight, she seemed like a glowing, luminous being and not a… dwarf maiden. Clad in a long white gown, with a flower wreath and a couple of simple braids adorning her flowing hair that made him think of pale marble with gold veins, she seemed like a benevolent spectre from another world, like a glittering pearl found at the bottom of the sea.
And then he realized she was singing. A soothing, soulful melody reached both his ears and his heart, and it was as if the day became even brighter, the air even clearer, and he felt a sweet taste in his mouth as if he had been drinking the sweetest mead.
Wanting to hear her voice better, Thorin took a step forward, but the song suddenly stopped.
“Who are you?” she turned towards him and asked in a gentle voice, a curious smile dancing on her lips.
“Thorin, son of Thrain, my lady,” he made a customary bow and approached the circle.
“A dwarf… here?” she tilted her head.
“You seem surprised, my lady,” he replied, trying not to think of how bright her eyes were and how pink and full her lips were against her sun-kissed cheeks. “Indeed I am. No one ever comes here, only me,” she said absentmindedly. “Then I am honored to be your first guest,” he added quickly. “Welcome to my meadow, Thorin, son of Thrain,” after a hesitant pause, the maiden stood up and curtsied elegantly, as if she was in Erebor’s throne room and not in the middle of an ancient forest.
She gestured at him to enter the stone circle and asked him to sit down beside her, just before she lowered herself gracefully on the grass. His heart was beating fast, but he moved slowly, carefully, not wanting to startle her, as if he was on a hunt and she was a prized doe.
“Tell me where you come from, Thorin, son of Thrain. Tell me of your homeland,” she whispered, and he noticed a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. It was at that moment that he realized that her eyes were green as priceless emeralds, like the soft grass beneath them, and he drowned in the boundless sea of her gaze completely.
He spoke of the kingdom of Erebor, of its beauty and wealth, of the skilled miners, jewelers, and stonemasons. He spoke of the wonders hidden deep inside of the Mountain and of the breathtaking view from its top. And she listened and listened like no one ever before has listened to him, and she asked insightful questions, and wanted to know more and more. “It seems like a wondrous place to live at,” she confessed, bringing a delicate white flower to her nose and smelling it with her eyes closed, a soft smile tugging at the corner of her lips. He wanted to smell it together with her. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. And he forgot that he was supposed to dislike flowers. “If you ever happen to travel to Rhovanion, it will be my pleasure to show you the beauty of Erebor,” he offered with an encouraging smile. The thought of walking beside her through the endless passages of the Mountain and having her smile back at him just the way she was smiling now was making him almost dizzy with inexplicable joy. This is what he wanted more than anything else.
She nodded in reply, and the blush on her lovely cheeks deepened, and his heart skipped a beat.
“May I ask you something, Master Thorin?” her sweet voice reached his ears. Hearing her speak his name, as she wrapped her shapely mouth around it, made his breath hitch. He didn’t even notice that she hadn’t called him ‘my lord’, as it was customary since he was a prince. He didn’t care. She simply glanced at him shyly from under her eyelids and it was everything he needed, and more. “Do all the dwarves of Erebor have as unruly hair as you do?” her question rang in the air, her eyes glittering with mischief. Trying to mask his surprise, he ran his hand through his hair, realizing that he had his wreath on his head only when his fingers bumped against its prickly surface. His hair underneath seemed indeed tousled and unkempt. Thorin grunted, feeling warmth spilling on his cheeks. That was not the first impression he was hoping for.
“Forgive me, my lady, I must look like a wild beast to you.” “You are too well-mannered to be a beast, Master Thorin,” she giggled. “But wild, yes, I have to agree with you.” That will teach me not to pick thistle for my midsummer wreath. A truly useless plant,” he shook his head and chuckled.
“I was rather happy to see your head adorned with these flowers. As you can see,” she pointed at her own wreath,” I too chose thistle. My hosts say that it is prickly and unpleasant to touch, but it symbolizes bravery, strength, and determination. A thistle wreath becomes you.” Thorin had to stop himself from puffing up his chest proudly, trying to convince himself it was simply courteous flattery, nothing more. “I thank you for your kind words, my lady. May I ask who your hosts are? Does this forest,” he gestured around them, “not belong to you?” “Not at all, Master Thorin,” she shook her head, pale golden locks spilling down her shoulders, making him want to run his fingers through the soft sea of her hair. “We are in an elven realm called… In Khuzdul, we would say ‘The Flower of Dreams’. We are dreaming, so it sounds very fitting, do you not think?” “Yes… it does. We are indeed dreaming, are we not?” he spoke slowly as the realization washed over him. This was indeed a dream, he remembered clearly the moment when he fell asleep in his bed in Erebor. What was surprising, this dream felt more coherent, more vivid than any other dream he had before. He smelled the sweet scent of flowers in the air, he touched the soft grass, he heard the birds chirping, and he saw a lovely maiden’s face in front of him, so real that he had to ignore the sudden urge to kiss her soft lips. Yes, this dream was different. “It is the Midsummer Night, the night of wonders and magic,” she nodded. “You said this place lies in an elven realm. Is it elven magic that brought me here?” Thorin frowned. He knew the history of his people, he read of the great friendship between the great artisan of Durin’s folk, Narvi, and the elven prince Celebrimor, of the creation of the Doors of Durin. His Grandfather’s dealings with the king of the Woodland Realm, however, taught him to be suspicious of elven intentions. Silvery laughter rang in the air. “Neither of us has pointy ears, Master Thorin. I have never heard of dwarves dabbling in elven magic. Or are you an elven wizard in disguise?” Thorin chuckled, “Not that I know of.” “Then it very well may be dwarven magic, the magic of Mahal and Kaminzabdûna bequeathed upon us on this very night. Or perhaps it is just an exceptionally vivid dream, nothing more,” she offered, looking away, her small hands resting in her lap idly, the flower forgotten between them. “No, my lady, you are not a dream, you cannot be merely a figment of my imagination!” he protested vehemently and, on the spur of the moment, he took her hand into his. Her skin was cool under his touch, but as soon as their fingers met, a tingling sensation rushed through his body.
She gasped, “Have you felt it too…?” Thorin looked into her widened eyes, her lips parted in astonishment, her hair glowing like a halo around her head. “As well as if I were wide awake, my–” he interrupted, bringing her delicate hand to his lips and kissed it gently, reverently.
“May I know what I shall call you, my lady?” Her melodic voice reached his ears in a whisper as if she was entrusting him with her greatest secret, “My name is Saga.”
Thorin opened his eyes. His chest heaved. He took a deep breath. It was dark, except for the faint light of a forgotten candle. Instantly he knew where he was. His bedchamber in Erebor. He closed his eyes again, hoping to return to that meadow, to her. To no avail. Sleep wouldn’t come. He felt hot. Something prickled against the skin of his palm. Thorin brought his closed hand to his eyes, but before he opened it, he knew what he was about to see.
A thistle flower.
* * *
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Hello, my wonderful readers! Remember me? I’m (sort of) back! I’ve been trying to fight a writer’s block and since the Valentine’s Day is coming soon, let me treat you to a love story straight from the Middle Earth.
Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield x OC Rating: T (E later on) Author’s notes: This is the story of Thorin Oakenshield’s quest to find the White Raven, a mysterious creature of legends only few were fortunate enough to see. This is the story of love stronger than time, destiny, and laws of gods and mortals alike.
You can find this fic on AO3.
Special thanks to@legolasbadass for all your help and discussions and @linasofia for your unwavering support. Love you guys! (Feel free to check their stories here and on AO3, these two are really talented, you won’t regret it!)
Khuzdul: Kaminzabdûna - Yavanna Kheled-zâram - the lake of Mirrormere
“Uncle?” A chubby dwarfling crawled up on Thorin’s lap, joining his little brother.
“What is it, Fili?” Thorin ruffled the boy’s wheat-colored hair, careful not to wake up Kili who snored quietly against his tunic.
“Is the White Raven only a legend?”
This innocent question made the king in exile freeze for a heartbeat.
“Why are you asking?” He made his voice sound casual. Lighthearted.
Fili looked around and whispered, “I saw a white raven today when I went out with Amad.”
“Have you?” Thorin lowered his voice. Perhaps it simply was a child’s imagination. Fili was an inventive lad after all.
“It sat on a branch on that big oak on the way to the market, but when I went to see it up close, it just flew off!” The boy gesticulated lively. “Are you certain that it was a raven?”
“I’m not a little pebble like Kili, Uncle! I know a raven when I see one!” Fili protested. “It just looked weird, because it had white feathers.” His little brother sighed in his sleep and shifted, making Thorin wrap his arm around him tighter as he pondered Fili’s words. Was it truly possible after so many years?
“You were lucky then,” Thorin spoke carefully, “There are many stories about the White Raven and all of them say that it shows itself only to a few.”
“Stories? Please, Uncle, I want to hear all about the White Raven!” Fili pulled on his sleeve.
“White Waven!” Exclaimed Kili, suddenly awake.
“Very well,” Thorin said, unable to stifle a smile at their enthusiasm. This was the topic he himself had been passionate about and researched through the years. Even though his findings had not brought him any closer to the truth he craved, there was an urge inside him to speak of it, as if this simple act could make it more substantial. More real.
Thorin’s gaze travelled towards the flames dancing in the hearth as he chose his words with care.
Summary: After your encounter with Thorin, you both have to force yourselves to remain professional to keep your relationship a secret from your colleagues, which is proving to be a challenge.
Relationship: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader (Modern AU)
Words:3,1K
Warnings:18+
A/N: This is the fourth part of Business & Pleasure. You can read the previous parts here.
Special thanks to @legolasbadass for doing the beta reading and @lathalea for valuable feedback.
The cold surface of the wooden door presses hard against my shoulders as Thorin traps me with his broad chest. His kiss is eager and his strength renewed, like the memory of our combined high is mysteriously erased from his memory. I let my hands run over his shirt that is now tucked properly down in his navy trousers and our heated kiss turns to soft giggles as we force our lips apart. He gives me a challenging but playful bite on my lower lip, and I breathe in his intoxicating scent and hug him tightly. Then he rests his forehead tenderly against mine. I don’t want to leave, but I hear myself say, ”I need to go now, I can’t stay here all morning.” The disappointed look in his azure eyes makes me want to seal the door, ignore everything beyond it and succumb to him once more. But then he smiles softly and nods. ”It’s probably for the best. Mahal knows what will happen if you stay.”
I want to work there please. Are they hiring? Specifically the blond Marketing Director? I’m a great PA
The yearning. The lust that is fuelled again after just being extinguished. The sexy secrets behind closed doors
I felt like I was in the room with everyone with how vivid your descriptions of everything are! You never cease to amaze me with this stuff.
Hands down my favourite part was after the meeting though, when the mighty and majestic CEO got a boner and couldn’t leave I love that she has that control over him, even if she feels so out of control herself.
I’m so thrilled that you’ve continued this series!! And now I’m torn again between CEO Thorin or vampire Richard being my favourite….
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.
Which Tolkien characters would date a Gardener/Botanist
This is so self indulgent I’m sorry. Also tagging @beenovel because I think they like Botany too and I love them(surprise babe I got it done tonight ha)
~~~
Sam
I mean, duh. Sam’s a gardener himself and basically the only working class Hobbit of the bunch, he would probably be ecstatic about having a fellow plant nerd with him. And it also helps that you’re really pretty but shhhh. You’d help him so much during his daily life - telling him all about proper plant care that even he didn’t know and introducing him to new species of plants that he can show Mr Frodo. You gave him some sunscreen once (because God knows we need that) and he still thanks you to this day for it. 100% leaves hints for you using the language of flowers, hoping the roses he gives you will say what he never dares to.
Frodo
Listen,, Frodo has a thing for gardeners. I can’t prove it, but you can’t disprove it either. Check mate. But in all seriousness, I can totally see him falling for a plant parent. Just imagine him watching you and his beloved Sam talk about plants together with the biggest darn heart eyes the Shire’s ever seen. Being the cute little nerd he is, he’d ask all about the meaning of different plants as a subtle way to communicate his feelings. He’s sweet like that.
Aragorn
He’d definitely be more into the field botanist type of plant nerd. Someone who can identify which plants are which, what not to eat and what tastes delicious. For instance, he was very thankful that you reminded him that creeping charlie is toxic to horses before he almost poisoned poor Brego. Sometimes, when you’re rattling off plant facts, he can’t help himself and kisses you for being so clever. At first he saw you as a wonderful traveling partner but that definitely develops into something more over time
Thranduil
Okay just hear me out. Mirkwood is so pretty and you cannot tell me they have interesting beautiful flora in there. Imagine a field botanist wandering into his lands and getting their ass kindly handed to them by the giant spiders (yikes) only to be saved by the Elven King himself.. who then makes them his personal gardener. That’s a fic I’d read in a heartbeat. He’d get only the finest seeds and bulbs for his darling little plant enthusiast, especially when his feelings grow stronger. Totally makes you cover up because he doesn’t want your “pretty little face getting sunburned”. He much prefers to make you red in other ways
Legolas
Like father like son. But, of course, he’s a little different about it. You want to go out foraging and studying? He’s right out there with you! Elves are in touch with nature in a way us Humans can’t even comprehend - that’s a field day for plant lovers. He probably knows all about plants himself, and would happily tell you all about the Elven uses and folklore of your favorite Flora. He’d be absolutely fascinated to hear about the human side of that too. He’ll protect you out on your little research expeditions and practically beg you to tell him all about plants. Match made in heaven.
Thorin
I know this seems weird, but listen. This is the dwarf who (clearly, in my opinion) fell in love with Bilbo flipping Baggins. I’m convinced he has a thing for cottagecore icons. I know it in my heart. A botanist would probably have a hell of a time figuring out what plants can grow best in Erebor’s mountain soil. And yes, he’d comfort you when you feel like ripping your hair out trying to do that haha. Absolutely sets apart an entire outdoor area for your little garden. He’d probably give you a window room (aside from his chambers ) so you can grow some indoor plants too.
Beorn
We’ve seen this man’s house in the movies. He wouldadore a gardener partner. He takes care of the animals and livestock, you take care of the blooms. He takes you out on rides around the forest, you sitting on his back while he’s in bear form, perfectly content to listen to you ramble away about the different kinds of trees. Beorn is very impressed that you know so much about plants. And if herbal medicine is your thing, that’d certainly come in handy with all the cuts he gets driving off orcs. Seeing you take care of him like that is actually a tad flustering, though he resolves to fluster you right back to hide the peachiness in his own face. You two likely met because he saw you checking out the plants around his territory, but he saw you meant no harm (and that you were cute) so you two became friends (and soon partners) very quick.
Summary: After your encounter with Thorin, you both have to force yourselves to remain professional to keep your relationship a secret from your colleagues, which is proving to be a challenge.
Relationship: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader (Modern AU)
Words:3,1K
Warnings:18+
A/N: This is the fourth part of Business & Pleasure. You can read the previous parts here.
Special thanks to @legolasbadass for doing the beta reading and @lathalea for valuable feedback.
The cold surface of the wooden door presses hard against my shoulders as Thorin traps me with his broad chest. His kiss is eager and his strength renewed, like the memory of our combined high is mysteriously erased from his memory. I let my hands run over his shirt that is now tucked properly down in his navy trousers and our heated kiss turns to soft giggles as we force our lips apart. He gives me a challenging but playful bite on my lower lip, and I breathe in his intoxicating scent and hug him tightly. Then he rests his forehead tenderly against mine. I don’t want to leave, but I hear myself say, ”I need to go now, I can’t stay here all morning.” The disappointed look in his azure eyes makes me want to seal the door, ignore everything beyond it and succumb to him once more. But then he smiles softly and nods. ”It’s probably for the best. Mahal knows what will happen if you stay.”
Oh, the wait was well worth is. I loved that Kili got so much screen time I have a feeling that he will be the first to find out when they can’t keep it a secret. It was very entertaining and hot
Fed up with the tediousness of the crypt like feel of your clan’s mountain home you had snuck through the gates unaccompanied. The forest had often proved your friend. The quiet solitude away from the complaints and constant buzz of activity of your fellow clansmen (clanspeople?) and surrounded by only the comings and goings of the woodland creatures and insects allowed you to unwind.
Travelling down the narrow path to your favourite spot that led to a small babbling brook you noticed that the path had been travelled recently. The brush had been damaged, the wild flora trampled. It was unusual as the path was hidden, unknown to most occupants of the mountain. You made a note to be weary of anything suspicious but continued on your way.
After a pleasant walk you found yourself at the small brook. Signs of a large, abandoned campsite were scattered around the clearing surrounding the stream. Yet you found nobody there and made yourself comfortable at a distance to the leftover clutter. Unpacking your small satchel, you began to fetch your lunch when a glint caught your eye. Surprised you crawled forward on your knees and retrieved the object from the river.
A pendant sat in your palm, the gold chain and pendant gleaming from the droplets that still clung to it from its icy bath. A ruby as red as blood was set in the middle surrounded my small runic inscriptions. Despite recognising the dwarven runes of your race you could not make out what they said. You could only guess that they were centuries old from a forgotten sub-dialect. Finding a clasp on the side you opened the pendant to find that it was in fact a locket containing a new family portrait. A family of five was proudly posed in the portrait and you stopped to admire the eldest son. He was rather regal and handsome. You blushed and scolded yourself at your snooping, though it did nothing to quell your heightened excitement of finding the lockets owner. Quickly gathering up your belongings you slipped the antique pendant securely in your bag and rushed back to your kingdom to find out as much as you could about the newfound treasure and the occupants of the camp.
It turned out that a small group of dwarves from the newly lost kingdom of Erebor had sought out the safety and aid of (Y/K/N) as they continued their search of a new home. How you had missed such news you did not know. You were excited and disappointed in equal measures. Learning about where such a treasure had come from thrilled you and yet you felt guilty in being unable to return such a valuable and likely prized possession to its owner, especially one who likely had lost most of their possessions in the Sack of Erebor. Alas, all you could do for the time was keep the antique prize safe.
You had followed the news that flowed into (Y/K/N) of the Ereborian refugees for several years since you had come across the pendant. The dwarves had finally settled in the Blue Mountains, their leader Thorin carving them out new halls. Thorin’s halls were said to be much more modest than the riches that the Long Beards had once been accustomed to. Though you supposed after all this time they were relieved to have finally found a place to settle.
Deciding that you had held onto the possession for long enough you decided to make the trek to the Blue Mountains with a caravan of traders from your kingdom who were headed there. There was safety in numbers, and you were far too timid, and perhaps smart, to travel the roads on your own. Your companions proved friendly enough and made sure to make you feel included amongst their ranks, something you deeply appreciated.
However, after a month of travel you were relieved to set your sights upon the Blue Mountain settlement. It had been a long and tiring journey as you were unused to such conditions or lengths of travel. Unsure of where to start you decided to accompany your companions to Thorin’s halls. You were unsure of who would greet you but were hopeful that they could perhaps recognise one of the dwarves in the portrait.
A kindly dwarf who was getting on in his years greeted you and took a log of the merchants and their goods. Having introduced himself as Balin, friend and aide to Thorin Oakenshield, you knew that he would be a good person to ask about the locket. So, once the formalities were finished and the merchants had begun to disperse you approached him.
“Forgive me Balin, my name is (Y/N). I travelled here with the caravan from (Y/K/N). Many years ago, I found a locket in a campsite near to our mountain and was told that it likely came from one of your people. There is a portrait in the locket, and I was hoping that you may recognise the family” you politely questioned. Balin looked surprised, “You are very kind to have travelled such a journey to try and find the owner. I would be happy to help. Show me the image and I will try to help.”
Retrieving the locket from a secure pocket in your pack you unclasped it and gestured for Balin to take. Upon casting his eyes upon it the elderly darrows eyes bulged. “I do not have to see the portrait to know who this belongs to” Balin breathlessly spoke, “Follow me.” With that he turned and began too hastily pace away. Left with the locket in your hand and your pack undone you quickly gathered your things together and raced after him.
After rushing down several long hallways Balin came to a stop at a large door. Knocking heavily on the door he did not pause to hear the answer before he pushed it open and gestured you inside. You found a darrow sat at a large desk pouring over some maps, though he had paused to look at the two of you. Though he had aged slightly since the drawing had been done, you recognised the darrow as the eldest son in the locket.
“This dam has found something of yours and has come all the way from (Y/K/N) to return it Thorin” Balin grinned. Thorin. As in the Prince of the sacked kingdom. Mahal. You stepped forward timidly under the intense stare of the darrow. Reaching into your pocket you pulled the locket out and stretched it out towards him. “I found this in a brook outside of (Y/K/N) not long after your people had passed through. I felt guilty holding onto it as it looked like a family heirloom, so I travelled here to return it to the owner not realising it was yours my prince. Balin was the one who recognised that you were the owner.”
Thorin, who had risen from his desk and made his way over to the pair of you, carefully took it from your hand brow furrowed. “What do you want for it? Surely you did not do this from the kindness of your heart” Thorin interrogated cautiously. “I only ask that I may have a dry place to sleep until I can return with the merchants home” you asked sincerely. Thorin taken aback by your answer nodded. “Very well, you will stay with my family in our home.”
Imagine deciding to take Bilbo back home after Thorin’s outburst…
You quietly rolled up the blanket and fastened it with a strap on top of your backpack. Turning around, you saw Bilbo pick up his walking stick and nod to himself as if agreeing that this was the best decision. A part of you didn’t want to leave this adventure so soon but you too had grown tired of the company’s ill treatment of your friend.
Particularly Thorin.
The leader of the dwarf group had made it clear on several occasions that the less-experienced Hobbit didn’t belong with them. After the stress with trolls and more recently, Stone Giants, everyone was on edge. But Thorin once again had snapped at Bilbo for slipping off the edge of the rock face.
That was the last straw for you.
Once the company had fallen asleep, you approached Bilbo and he confided in you that perhaps Thorin was right. With Bilbo’s hope barely visible, you planned to leave that night. A plan that would have worked perfectly if Bofur wasn’t on guard duty.
“Where are you both off to?” He asked quickly, quite shocked with the pair all dressed up.
Bilbo fell silent, not sure what to say but you adjusted the strap on your shoulder. “I’m taking him home.”
“What? Why?”
“Thorin was right. I should never have come.” Bilbo told the kind dwarf.
Imagine series > Part 1 | Part 2 (coming soon) | Part 3 (coming soon)
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.
In which you have a genius idea to take these suckers out, you accidentally do something you’re not supposed to, and you take the taller bit of your friends out.
—-
And then, you realize, that it’s getting deeper into October.
As it got deeper into October, the dwarves and hobbit remain in your house. It’s been a total of 2 ½ weeks, now, and you can tell they’re getting antsy from staying in one place for so long.
Like, around halloween time.
An idea strikes you in the head like a bag of bricks, and right away you realize that you’re a genius.
You’re sitting on the couch with Bilbo, Oin, and Bofur when the lightbulb goes off in your head suddenly, and once it does you hop to your feet and run upstairs at top speed, successfully baffling everyone idly watching the nature documentary you put on.
You pass Dwalin and Balin while you zoom to your bedroom, and when they see you run past them like freaking Speedy Gonzales they’re both super confused.
Right away you grab your laptop off your bed and pull up a window.
The keys of your compute clack softly while you type in your town as well as ‘Halloween Festival’ and the first few results as well as images on the Google engine prove your theory.
Every year here people dress up in advance and celebrate throughout the duration of the week leading up to it. Of course, the trick-or-treating only happens on the day of, but there are a plethora of other things for people to do during that week.
People dress up, children go on field trips, there’s a festival, and even the grocery stores have little events they put on to promote their business.
You’ve never really gone before since crowded places aren’t the most comfortable for you, but you actually feel a little giddy about taking them all to see the town with you.
Right away you know you’re going to have to buy them all costumes, but for the last week you’ve been pet sitting this rich couples Rag-doll cat, Princess, and your going rate is $18/hr for a week… Do the math ;).
You’re going to get paid later in the day today after you drop her back off at their house, and that’s not even accounting for the other animals you’ve been watching for varying amounts as well.
So, essentially, you’re gonna be perfectly fine financially.
Anyways, as soon as you’re done doing your little bit of research there on your computer you close it and leave your room again, hopping down the stairs with a big bright smile on your face.
When you reenter the living room, everyone is gathered there and looking at you expectantly.
At first, you don’t do or say anything since you’re super confused, but when the silence begins to drag on for too long you ask hesitantly, “Uh… Is everything alright? What’s going on?”
“Well, you left to your room very quickly.” Bilbo comments, standing up from his spot on the couch, “But from the smile on your face, I’m assuming it wasn’t because of anything bad?”
You nod your head and sigh, leaning down to pet Mittens who is rubbing herself against your legs, “Yeah, everything’s fine. It’s great, actually.” You pause for dramatic effect, then add, “I just figured out a way to take all of you out! Like, to see the town and stuff!”
“You have?” Thorin asks, raising an eyebrow skeptically.
“Mmhm!” You stand up straight and nod your head quickly, bouncing on the balls of your feet, “See, I figured I’d probably be able to take you and maybe Kili, Bofur, and Dwalin out at some point… like, if some of you were to groom yourselves different or wear hats…,” once more you stop your speech and realize that may be offensive, “N-Not that I think there’s anything wrong with how you look-”
“Nobody is offended, I’m sure. Go on.” Thorin urges, amusement present on their faces from your sudden frantic backtracking so you don’t offend them.
“R-Right, uh… anyways, you guys are taller so I knew I could probably bring you along sometime, but I wasn’t sure how to get everyone else to come along, and then I realized that this next week is the week leading up to halloween!” You say it like it will answer all their questions, forgetting that they probably don’t know what halloween is.
Silence passes by for a few seconds as they wait for you to go on, and when you don’t Kili asks, “What’s 'halloween’?”
“Oh, yeah, it’s like, a holiday where children dress up and go to peoples houses to get candy. And when I say dress up, I mean in costumes.” You rub the back of your neck while you explain and add, “In my city, the place we are now, we celebrate throughout the whole week. There are games, festivals, and lots of events… and there are people running around in masks all of the time. So I can get some of you costumes and then I can bring you all along!” Your smile returns as you pick apart the details, and it seems your excitement is contagious.
“Wait, so we will get to walk around the town and see other things?” Nori questions, looking over at his brothers with a smile.
“Yeah, but I gotta get you costumes first. Like, ghosts and some masks of different things. But if we wanna make the most of our time then I should probably go now.”
You turn after that and go to the counter to grab your purse, pausing when Balin asks, “So it’s a holiday where people run around in disguises, getting candy, and playing games as a community?”
Once again you nod your head, turning around to look at him with the same bright smile on your face.
“So, anyone can be anyone?” The older dwarf asks, furrowing his eyebrows.
“Yeah, pretty much.” You look down and go through your purse, making sure everything you need is in there before walking over to put on your tennis shoes.
“Even the man who was here the week before?”
Now that certainly gives you a pause.
Before you were never worried about it, but now with what’s happened with him, you aren’t so sure that it’s so safe anymore.
“Um… yeah, I guess.” You’d rather not think about it, so you start to tie your laces up. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Well, you already said that you can bring some of us, so why not do that now? Just to make sure?” Balin asks, though it’s more of a 'you should really do it cause we’re gonna freak out if you don’t’.
You don’t respond and instead finish tying your shoes first, thinking over his request.
When you’re done doing up your shoes you turn and see that they’re all looking at you with similar expressions of worry, and it makes you sigh, “Okay, fine. But whoever goes can’t wear their normal clothes cause people will be weirded out. The halloween thing doesn’t start for another day.”
There’s a moment of silence while some of them exchange looks before Thorin speaks, “You mentioned Kili and myself first. Surely that should be fine.”
“Um…” You look between the two and tilt your head to the side thoughtfully, arms crossed over your chest. “Sure. But your hair is definitely going to stick out, Thorin.”
He nods his head in understanding.
“And what about me?” Kili asks eagerly. It seems he’s really excited about finally being able to leave your property.
“You’re fine, I think. Am I taking both of you?” You inquire with furrowed eyebrows, walking a few steps forward.
“You might as well.” Kili says with a big silly smile.
Well, you can’t argue with that logic.
You shrug your shoulders and head up the stairs again, “Alright, go get changed into some of the clothes I gave you.”
—
Once they’re dressed in t-shirts and sweatpants (you didn’t know their sizes so you got whatever would fit at the time) you observe them both with narrowed eyes while rubbing your chin.
“Hm… On a scale of 1 to 10, I give Kili a 9 and Thorin a 6.” You say after a moment, turning to look at everyone else and get their opinions.
“What is the scale referring to?” Fili pipes up suddenly, looking up at you.
“How convincing they are.”
“Why do I get a 6?” Thorin grumbles, looking at you pointedly.
“Your hair.” You reply simply, walking over with a hair tie stretched between your fingers, “Hold still.”
You gather his hair over his shoulders and pull it back, putting his hair through it and wrapping it around until it’s nice and tight.
As soon as you’re finished, you step around him and look to see if it’s made a difference, and when you’ve determined that it’s good, you smile, “Okay, now it’s at least an 8.” You turn towards Kili and ask, “Your hair is fine, right? Or do you want me to put it up?”
He doesn’t say anything and neither does anyone else, and when the silence persists you raise an eyebrow, “Hello? Earth to Kili, I just asked you a question.”
“Uh, no, you don’t have to, thank you.” He shakes his head and seems to come to some sort of realization since he starts to smile at his uncle in that big teasing grin you’ve, unfortunately, become accustomed to.
You nod your head and skip back over to the counter, swiping your keys off of it before heading to the front door.
“Come out whenever, I’m gonna get my car started.”
Once you’re out of the house some of the dwarves begin to laugh, and Kili pokes fun at his uncle, “Thorin, you have quite a red face, are you sure you can go?”
Thorin glares at his nephew and replies coldly, “She meant nothing by it.”
“Right, but is that disappointment I hear?”
The glare he throws his nephew is so withering it could suck the life right out of a flower, but Kili is no flower, so he only laughs more.
“She offered to do yours too, you know.” Fili adds when he begins to feel bad for his uncle.
Kili pauses his laughter and glares at his brother, “But she didn’t do it.”
“She would’ve.”
“Oh hush, you’re just upset that she didn’t ask to do your hair.” Kili shoots back, glaring at his brother.
“I am not, because unlike everyone else, I knew she meant naught by asking.” He shoots back with a smirk.
Kili huffs indignantly and glares at his brother, saying no more as he heads out the door after you.
Thorin turns to everyone before following and states, “Try not to destroy anything while we are gone.” His voice is firm and he waits until he gets nods from them all before leaving after you.
—
Once you’re all in the car you put it into drive and go, turning up the radio so the car won’t be completely filled with silence while you drive.
Occasionally, you’ll glance at Thorin in the passenger seat or Kili in the back, and each time you do they’re looking out the window at the passing scenery with awe.
“If you’re impressed now, wait until we get into the big city.” You comment suddenly, smiling to yourself while you watch the road ahead.
And when you do arrive in the city, they are impressed indeed.
The gasp that leaves Kili when you drive through the first big street draws a giggle from you, and when he presses his face against the window as you pull into the parking lot of the seasonal halloween store, your smile grows even bigger.
Even Thorin is impressed by all the wonderful things around, and when you turn off the car after parking you turn to look at them, “Thoughts so far?”
“It’s wonderful.” Kili breathes, looking at the bright, moving signs and huge stores all around.
“Yes, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anything so grand before.” Thorin agrees, looking over at you with a smile of his own.
“Well if this impresses you, wait until we get inside the store. Try not to get scared.”
—
The three of you eventually make it inside, and when you do they are in awe once more.
The seasonal store is dark with black painted walls and bright white florescent lights, and there are various halloween and horror things everywhere.
When you walk in there is one of those electronic jump-scare things, and while you were expecting it, the poor dears behind you weren’t.
The witch thing pops out and cackles loudly, saying one of her many phrases, and as soon as she does both Kili and Thorin freak out. And when I say freak out, I mean 'pulled out some small weapons they decided to bring and screaming’ freak out.
Luckily there is no one around at the moment, so you step between them and the witch and laugh nervously, “Put those away please. We’re gonna get kicked out if anyone sees you with those.”
They look between you and the electronic woman a few times before slowly putting their knives away and relaxing their stances.
“Thank you…”
“What is that?” Kili asks, glaring at the ugly jump-scare machine while you walk past it.
“It’s a halloween decoration designed to scare people. And it seems like it worked too.” You reply easily, looking back at them with a more mischievous smile.
Kili looks around slightly nervously and grumbles defensively, “I wasn’t that scared… Uncles screams are what startled me.”
“My screams? Kili, let’s not lie now, clearly you were horrified.” Thorin says disapprovingly, shaking his head.
“Aw, you guys are cute.” You purr jokingly, waltzing up to the kids costumes isle.
They stop arguing after that.
You browse through the messy shelves quietly for a little while, trying to find the best ones, when you see a doggie in the cutest ghost costume.
A squeal leaves your lips when you see the cutie pie and you cup your cheeks as an adoring expression comes onto your face.
Without hesitation you hop over to the owner and ask excitedly, “Where did you get that?”
The man with the dog looked up quickly upon hearing your excited yelp and when he saw your exuberant form he smiled too, “I bought it a week ago here. They’re near the back.”
His answer fills you with joy, and you continue to stare at his pupper for a moment before he says, “You can pet her if you want, she doesn’t bite.”
He doesn’t need to tell you twice.
You kneel down right away and scratch behind her ears, and her tail begins to wag wildly at the attention.
It seems that she likes you just as much, because she takes a seat and leans into you when you scratch her all over like you do with your dogs. It’s at that moment when you begin to wonder if she’ll fit in your purse.
Before you can finish your calculations and plans on stealing this mans dog you hear someone clear their throat and you realize then that you forgot all about Thorin and Kili.
You turn your head and see the two of them standing there with amused expressions on their faces.
Upon realization that they’re watching you, and have been for a little while now, you jump to your feet and feel your face heat up. “I-If you make fun of me I’ll leave both of you here.” You threaten very unconvincingly, crossing your arms over your chest.
Kili starts to laugh but he doesn’t say anything about it, looking at his uncle who also releases a few chuckles of his own.
You glance back at the man and see that he’s looking at them, and you realize he probably thinks Kili’s short stature is a little odd.
“U-Uh, thanks for letting me pet your dog!” You say quickly, heading back over to the two of them with a blush on your cheeks.
You turn back to the shelves of costumes and the man and his dog walk away, and once their gone you glare at the two of them half heartedly. “You guys are total meanies.” There is faux bitterness in your voice when you speak as well, and it only brings more laughter from them.
“I only find it cute.” Kili states, smiling good naturedly before continuing, “Every time you see an animal you get very excited.”
“Cause I love animals.”
“Yes, we can tell.” Thorin muses, stepping up next to you to look at the spiderman mask in your hand.
You tap your foot against the ground a few times before putting the mask back.
A ghost costume for Bilbo; check.
That is all.
You literally don’t have anything for anyone else, and honestly you’re beginning to think that it’s impo-
And then another idea hits you.
Class of middle/high-schoolers in a fantasy club. It’s farfetched and barely believable, but most people won’t say anything about it out of fear of being offensive, so it’s perfect!
You don’t have to buy them costumes at all (minus Bilbo), all you need is stuff to make them look less like dwarves and more like children pretending to be dwarves.
It sounds easier than it actually is, but you think you can pull it off. All you need is some netting, makeup, wigs, and nose and scar wav and you’ll be set.
Once you get this idea you run away from the kids section with the ghost section and head toward the halloween makeup isle, seeking out the items mentioned previously without hesitation.
You find what you’re looking for in minutes, and once you’ve got everything you zoom to the checkout since you’re going to need to look up some tips on how to pull this off.
You’re so excited you nearly forget to make sure Kili and Thorin are still with you, but once you see them you smile in relief and pay for everything.
Once you’re all back in your car, Thorin asks, “I thought we were going to get masks?”
“Well, we were. But then I had an amazing idea consisting of pretending you’re all students or something who invested in really expensive dwarf costumes. It’s perfect, 'cause no one will ask and we’ll get lots of compliments.”
Thorin nods his head slowly and puts his belt on like you showed him, but before you go you turn and look at Kili expectantly.
The young dwarf doesn’t say anything at first, but when your staring consists he asks slowly, “What…?”
“Put on your seatbelt.”
There’s more silence until he puts it on, raising an expectant eyebrow at you, “Is that better?”
A/N: I’m back!!! This is a very very very belated holiday/Christmas themed imagine.
Thorin paced around as he considered what he was about to do. He had dreamed of growing up and marrying Y/N as a young dwarfling, but it was not until he reached adulthood that he realized the true extent of his feelings. So, in a bid to win her over he had sat down in front of a scrap of parchment and brainstormed up every sort of gift he could either buy or craft that would touch Y/N. He had eventually remembered the snow globe incident:
Two small dwarflings raced down the corridors of Erebor, giggling and chattering as they went. The two bumped into passersby as they went but nobody complained. The young prince and his companion were far too cute and joyous to be scolded. “Come on Thorin” Y/N giggled as they tugged him along to their family quarters.
Warnings:NSFW,Smut, unprotected intercourse, oral sex
You were about to close shop – the elderly dwarrow who was your colleague and boss having left almost an hour ago already – when the door swung open in a gust of cold wind that sent the swatches you had left on the counter flying into different directions.
“Mahal have mercy,” you muttered under your breath and came up from behind said counter to check who dared bother you this late.
“My king,” you gasped upon seeing Thorin II, standing tall and slightly sheepish on the threshold, tugging at his coat that had caught on a beam just outside the door where you usually hung freshly washed linens to dry.
Summary: After your encounter with Thorin, you both have to force yourselves to remain professional to keep your relationship a secret from your colleagues, which is proving to be a challenge.
Relationship: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader (Modern AU)
Words:3,1K
Warnings:18+
A/N: This is the fourth part of Business & Pleasure. You can read the previous parts here.
Special thanks to @legolasbadass for doing the beta reading and @lathalea for valuable feedback.
The cold surface of the wooden door presses hard against my shoulders as Thorin traps me with his broad chest. His kiss is eager and his strength renewed, like the memory of our combined high is mysteriously erased from his memory. I let my hands run over his shirt that is now tucked properly down in his navy trousers and our heated kiss turns to soft giggles as we force our lips apart. He gives me a challenging but playful bite on my lower lip, and I breathe in his intoxicating scent and hug him tightly. Then he rests his forehead tenderly against mine. I don’t want to leave, but I hear myself say, ”I need to go now, I can’t stay here all morning.” The disappointed look in his azure eyes makes me want to seal the door, ignore everything beyond it and succumb to him once more. But then he smiles softly and nods. ”It’s probably for the best. Mahal knows what will happen if you stay.”
