Can I perhaps beg for Cullen from dragon age finding out his wife is gonna have a baby? 🥺
A/n: THANK YOU FOR BEING MY FIRST REQUEST!
The news sat like a secret beneath your tongue for nearly three days.
Not because you wanted to keep it from Cullen.
Maker knew you didn’t.
But every time you imagined saying the words aloud, your heart began racing so fast that you convinced yourself to wait one more hour. One more evening. One more quiet moment.
Unfortunately, life at Skyhold was rarely quiet.
There were reports, meetings, patrol schedules, diplomatic visits, and an endless stream of people who somehow needed the Commander of the Inquisition for something immediately.
So you waited.
And waited.
Until one evening you found Cullen alone in his office.
The door stood slightly open, candlelight spilling into the corridor. Inside, he sat hunched over his desk, one hand rubbing tiredly at his forehead while the other moved across a report.
You smiled softly.
Typical.
Even after everything, even after Corypheus, Cullen still worked himself far too hard.
You stepped inside and knocked gently against the doorframe.
His head immediately lifted.
The exhaustion vanished from his face the moment he saw you.
“There you are,” he said warmly. “I was beginning to think Skyhold had stolen you away.”
You laughed quietly. “It nearly did.”
He pushed back from his desk. "Come here.”
The request was simple, familiar.
You crossed the room and immediately found yourself pulled into his lap.
The Commander of the Inquisition might have been a respected military leader.
Your husband, however, was a shameless man who never missed an opportunity to steal affection.
His arms wrapped around your waist as he rested his chin against your shoulder.
“Better,” he murmured.
You smiled despite your nerves. “Cullen.”
“Hm?”
Your fingers twisted together.
Immediately, he noticed, of course he did. His embrace loosened slightly.
“What is it?”
The concern in his voice made your stomach flip.
You turned enough to face him.For a moment, you forgot every speech you had practiced.
Every carefully planned sentence disappeared.
So instead you simply reached down and took one of his hands.
Then you placed it gently against your stomach.
Confusion flickered across his features.
Then curiosity.
Then realization.
You watched the exact moment understanding struck him.
His eyes widened.
The room went utterly silent.
“Cullen?”
He stared at you.
Then at your stomach.
Then back at you.
The poor man looked as though someone had cast a paralysis spell on him.
Finally, his mouth opened, closed then opened again.
“You…” His voice cracked.
A laugh escaped you despite yourself.
“Yes.”
“You mean…”
“Yes.”
His gray eyes immediately filled with emotion.
Maker.
You had seen Cullen face demons.
You had seen him stand against armies.
You had watched him command soldiers through impossible battles.
Yet somehow this had rendered him completely speechless.
“You are certain?” he asked quietly.
You nodded. “Very.”
For several seconds he simply stared.Then he suddenly stood.
You squeaked in surprise as he lifted you with him.
“Cullen!”
He laughed, a genuine, disbelieving sound that you rarely heard anymore.
“A baby?” His hands settled carefully against your face.
“A baby.” You couldn’t stop smiling.
"A baby.” The grin that spread across his face was brighter than sunlight.For a moment he looked years younger.
Not the Commander.
Not the former templar.
Just a husband who had been handed the greatest gift of his life.
He pulled you into his arms immediately.
Not tightly.
Carefully.
As though you and the tiny life growing inside you were suddenly the most precious things in Thedas.
Perhaps, to him, you were.
“I love you,” he whispered into your hair.
Emotion tightened your throat. “I love you too.”
His hand found your stomach again.
Tentative.
Awestruck.
Maker, he looked amazed.
As though he couldn’t quite believe it.As though at any moment someone might tell him he had imagined the whole thing.
“A child,” he said softly. “Our child.”
You nodded.
“Our child.”
A laugh escaped him again.
Then another.
You weren’t sure you had ever seen Cullen quite so happy.
Questions immediately began spilling out.
“When?”
“How long have you known?"
“Have you seen a healer?”
“Are you feeling well?”
“Have you been eating enough?”
The last one made you laugh.
“Cullen.”
“What?”
“You sound worried already.”
“I am worried already."His answer was so immediate that you burst into laughter.
The Commander looked mildly offended. "I believe I am entitled to worry.”
“You found out less than five minutes ago.”
“And?”
“And you’re already planning."
“Of course I am.”
His expression softened.
Then he knelt unexpectedly in front of you.The sight alone nearly made you cry.
One of the most respected men in Thedas kneeling before his wife with tears shining in his eyes.
His hand rested against your stomach.
Not possessive.
Not protective.
Simply loving.
Reverent.
As though he already adored the tiny life he had not yet met.
“Hello there,” he murmured softly.
You laughed through your tears.“Cullen, the baby can’t hear you yet.”
“Perhaps not.”His smile grew.“But I wanted to introduce myself anyway.”
Your heart completely melted.
The room felt warm despite the mountain air beyond the walls of Skyhold.
For a long moment neither of you spoke.You simply stood together.
His hand against your stomach.
Your fingers in his hair.
The future stretching before you both.For the first time in years, there were no battles to think about.
No enemies.
No politics.
Only hope.
Only love.
Only the knowledge that somewhere beneath your heart, a tiny new life had already changed both of yours forever.
Yellow Dandelions ('A single, yellow dandelion' part two)
(Kíli Durin x Female Reader)
(Not my gifs, credit goes to the creators)
The schedule for upcoming stories
Middle-Earth Masterlist
My Main Blog Masterlist
Part One
Requested by: many
Requests: Open
Fandom: The Hobbit Trilogy
Request: By the request of many, part two to 'A single, yellow dandelion'.
Warnings: Angst (yummy), mentions of injury/gore, love confession, happy ending, mentions of character death, Kíli lives, mention of: grief, war, and gore. Misunderstanding trope (short lived, as all this occurs over a week max).
Words: 6.7k (my longest one so far)
Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction, the scenarios, the reader, and the dialogue are all mine.
This should only be found on my blog.
Author is always me on this blog @daydreams-magic01-mrsdurin .
A/N: Please do not copy or plagiarise this, or put it in your own book, etc. It should only be found here. Also, please mention if I should make a taglist and if you wanted to be added. I also tried by best at being British.
Please note, this is the first thing I have properly written since 2022.
PLEASE READ: So this is the first thing I have properly written in like three years, I tried really hard, and I think it ends their story well as an ending to part one. I didn't know how to finish this, and after throwing around some ideas, I figured this was best. I didn't want to skip anything, we all know how clumsy, and stressed we all get when upset, how our entire behaviour can change whilst wounded. How when one thing goes wrong it becomes a chain reaction. I tried to immerse us, as if it happened in real life, no quick fix, the reader isn't perfect with their reactions.
I am very nervous I will disappoint. I put a LOT of time and effort into this, I am proud of it but very nervous no one will like it. I apologies for the long wait. Ah, I am so scared right now, pahaha. I feel like I did such a great job with part one, but that was more cheerier, this is more about what comes after, how a person can change by having their feelings hurt when upset. I also can't stand the misunderstanding trope existing for longer then necessary, I love me some misunderstanding drama but not when it gets annoying. I did a lot of proof reading many times, even had someone read my work I am so nervous, haha. I haven't watched The Hobbit in a while, and I haven't written in even longer. I hope you all enjoy. AHHHHH.
Thank you.
:)
By the way, (y/r) stands for your race, whether a Hobbit, Dwarf, etc.
FYI, just tagging you guys in as you previously asked for a a part two, feel no pressure to read:)
He never did come after her. Of course, she didn’t go back either. (Y/n) couldn’t breathe, and not in the way she cannot around Kíli, this hurt, even more so than it did when the older Prince of Erebor confronted her. She had not headed to her chambers, instead she ran for the city, hoping that after a day or so of running she will be lost forever and never have to face anyone. Such a pleasant idea, to hide away from prying eyes, and never disappoint anyone ever again, lest herself.
Of course, when one’s body is shaking, and the throat is quivering, swelling, and the nose is blocking, you cannot run for long. So, she headed upwards and dived in the armoury next to the Mountain’s main entrance. A terrible idea, as that very day Bard would come with a preposition, Thranduil in tow, and this would be one of the armouries the Company search in.
An hour after the door thunks to a slow close behind her, and she began her hiding between stalls off shields, does it open again.
Gasping, she slaps her hand to her mouth, eyes wide as her other arm tightens it’s hold around her knees. The Dwarf is humming to himself, his heavy boots hitting the floor as he slowly makes his way through the main room of the armoury, to the secondary chamber where she is hidden. (Y/n) utters thanks to the Gods in her head when the footsteps go to the opposite side, where the short swords are.
Curiosity gets the best of her, and she cannot help but move her palms to press against the cold stone beneath her so she may gently push herself up with her fingers. Of course, as much as everyone praised her dress, apparently it has turned against her just like Kíli. (She knows she is in the wrong, but still). The sole of her boot catches on it before she releases, causing her knees to get pulled down just as she goes to stand, and she trips. As she is tripping whilst knelt down, she falls forward, and her hands catch her just as her nose hits the stone. A cry rips from her.
A sword clatters, Óin having been inspecting them to see how they had fared against time with no use. He may be deaf, but he is a healer, and he can sense these things. He has also attuned himself to listen out for his loved one’s pain as well as he can with his worsening hearing.
“(Y/n)? Lassie, are you alr-”
A cry of fury cuts him off as he hurries over to her. He grabs his wonderful tool from his belt and presses the end to his ear, as his other hand goes to her back.
(Y/n) is most certainly having a terrible day. Ignoring the itching embarrassment, her almost destroyed pride, and her wrenching heart, she pushes herself up and turns onto her knees, flashing the smile he had become so accustomed to. “Yes, Óin. I'm sorry for disrupting you. Please go on, I will take care of myself.”
He frowns, angling the horn better towards her, the hand that followed her goes to gently hold her chin. His hand is rough, no doubt from decades of swordsmanship, and gathering prickly herbs, yet his touch is so gentle she can barely feel him. “You took a nasty fall there, lass. Let me take care of you.”
She shakes her head, cheeks flushing an even darker shade of red that spreads to her chest, and the tip of her ears. Oh, how her cheeks burn. “No, please, I assure you, it is a simple knock -.”
Óin, having tucked away his horn shakes his head, “this isn’t your home lassie, we need to treat you now.” Gently he places a hand on either side of her waist and helps lift her up as if she were his daughter, his brow deeply furrowed. “You’re bleeding.”
Oh. (Y/n), preoccupied in her deep flushed cheeks, and searing nose failed to notice the blood dripping down her lip into her mouth. Óin quickly plugs up her nose with a scratchy handkerchief – more of a rag – and she wipes her teeth with her tongue. Metallic.
Ironic, as she is basically in a giant mine, she thinks to herself.
Her eyes are once again weeping, despite having run out of tears ten minutes ago. She doesn’t register Óin leading her out of the rooms and back into the main passage as she touches her own face in shock. How foolish of her.
Foolish. The perfect word. Foolish for not realising braiding was an offer of courtship. Foolish for courting Kíli before telling him how she felt. Foolish for giving him her precious bead. Foolish for taking signs of courtship as simple kindness. Wait. Who could blame her? Bilbo made her tea all the time, and the Company were always hunting for meat. Perhaps one should state their intentions. Ori had bought her flowers when she was sad during her most recent moon bleed, yes Kíli looked at him funny, but he was being kind. Furthermore, where were the courtship walks? The promenading? She did not bear witness in it, nor partake.
Yet, she is still foolish. Foolish for letting Fíli tell him first. Foolish for hiding in a place next to the Gate in which the Company are taking turns patrolling. Foolish for crying over a member of the opposite sex. Equally foolish for being nosey, not watching where her hem is, and tripping. (Y/n) has learnt to fight, defend herself, something she is quite good at, and she is especially foolish for allowing her first big bleed of the journey be by falling face first into the floor.
The heart will heal but the humiliation shall forever linger.
~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy: Author is always me on this blog @daydreams-magic01-mrsdurin ~~~~~~~~~~~~
How long has passed? An hour? Prince Kíli is yet to move from his place against the wall. The only part him which moves is his left hand, as he plays with his Runestone. He did not cry, the tears trapped in his eyes, they sting. He cannot take his eyes away from it, the single yellow dandelion on the floor. It mocks him.
Was (Y/n) mocking him? No. (Y/n) is as kind as she is beautiful. He tries to replay the argument, but all he can remember is the anguish he felt, her face as she spoke, the hands on her hips. Angry. Acting as if one verbalises their feelings when actions are sweeter. Surely his actions proved enough that he was at least attempting to court her as she did not realise, they already were in courtship. Hunting. Gifts. Touch. Were these not signs enough?
He is foolish. Foolish indeed.
“Good evening, Kíli – oh, Kíli what is wrong?” His eyes snap upwards to their kind Burglar clad in his waistcoat and blazer. Worriedly, he bends down, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. They had dropped formalities a while ago, they are friends. Yet, Kíli knows Master Baggins must have known (Y/n) and her feelings. That fact alone stings.
“Nothing,” the prince forces his familiar smirk, pushing himself up from the floor and wall, “what brings you here Master Burglar?” He frowns. “Is everything well? My uncle? My brother?” For the first time since he watched (Y/n) walk away his heartbeat quickens from the previous slow drawl. Surely the Men of Dale aren’t attacking? Bard is a good man. Kind. With a kind family. No. That is not Bard’s way. Perhaps the elves? His lip curls at the idea of Thranduil. Legolas and Tauriel were kind enough, though he has a suspicion they are acting alone.
“No, Kíli, nothing like that.” Bilbo states, the familiar look of constant mild distress on his face as he too stands, gazing up at the Dwarf. “Are you sure everything is fine? You can tell me anything.”
Wrong. He can only talk to his big brother about this. The sentiment is kind, however. He shakes his head, smiling, his left hand playing with his mother’s runestone. He wanted to gift this to (Y/n), a promise, a promise like the one he etched into that dagger. His heart jolts, and his cheeks quiver as he forces away the frown. How foolish of him to think he could ever pass it down to their child.
“Well, uh. Watch. Ah, yes. That’s it,” the Hobbit suddenly smiles, and straightens, swinging back and forth on his heels, “Bofur sent me down to remind you that it’s your watch next. Only because when they brought over lunch, Bifur apparently mentioned that no one had seen you for three or so hours.”
Watch, of course. His turn tonight, without his brother. That conversation would have to wait. So will the tears he so desperately needs to shed, he daren’t weep and have to explain to Dwalin how foolish and naive he is.
“Thank you, Master Baggins,” he smiles down to him, “I shall bid you a good night.” He bows deep, his hair swinging behind him when he stands tall again.
The Hobbit’s brow remains furrowed. “Yes, thank you. Good night – I mean –” the Dwarf prince begins to walk away, but Bilbo jogs after him, scrambling with his words, “thank you, Kíli, but there is food waiting for you, Bombur kept a portion aside I believe, another for (Y/n) –”
That forces him to stop. Even if he wanted to move, his legs would not allow it. He turns to the Hobbit, who almost walks past him, placing a grounding hand on Bilbo’s arm.”
“(Y/n) has not eaten?”
“- so no need to bid goodnight, yet Kíli. We are headed to the same destination – wait.” Bilbo almost seems to grow in height as his gaze hardens almost to a glare, and his shoulders square, Kíli’s hand falls. “We all thought (Y/n) came to see you?”
Kíli has to turn away as the flashes of their exchange course through his mind. He almost feels shame. Why?
“Oh well,” the Hobbit chuckles charmingly, “she must have gone back with Fíli when her break finished and missed us.” He pats him on his shoulder before continuing on. “I did see her heading back inside the Mountain before she meant to find you, must have spent most of her time out there, not enough time to come see you. That makes sense.”
The dandelion. He jolts, making the poor Hobbit lean away. Before Bilbo can say anything, Kíli runs back to where he was sat, and gently kneels to pick up the dandelion. Soft. He wonders if her skin truly feels as soft as it looks. Not that he will ever know. It must do, compared to his hands, the hands of a workman.
He runs back to the curious Hobbit who keeps glancing back to him as they walk. Yet the prince cannot take his eyes off that single, yellow Dandelion. Alike the one he gave her, except fresh whereas he imagines the one he gave her is since long dead. She must have searched hard for the flower.
How foolish of him to think a fine, ethereal being as her could ever like him. He cannot shake the memory, of how she looked when he was dying, as Tauriel healed her. She looked – well, he cannot think any gods of any race compare. He hopes the memory never fades. Let it be the last he sees before departing. How foolish of him. For he is the Dwarf with no proper beard. The Dwarf taller than most. The Dwarf who looks more like he is of Men compared to his brother, cousins and friends. He is foolish. He has no people, yet. He isn’t even heir. How foolish of him to think – to believe otherwise.
~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nodding along to herself, (Y/n) fails to notice the kind Dwarf lead her to the chamber they all mingle in together – when they are not searching for the Arkenstone. The gasps of outrage and worry hit her first as Bifur, Nori, Dori and Balin crowd her. They all mutter questions about how this happened. As if it were more likely Men came down to take Erebor in the past hour with the watchmen missing it, all with the purpose of targeting her first.
“Stop crowding the lass. Bifur release her.” Óin almost shouts, horn against his ear. The other Dwarf grumbles in his mother tongue as he gently releases her from his chest where he had been cradling her side.
The other three step back, revealing the space between them. She doesn’t hear them. How can she? The second her eyes meet her Prince’s the world goes silent, until all she can hear is her own breath, and the thumping of her heartbeat in her nose.
As if this whole situation cannot get worse. Now he can clearly tell she was crying, tripped over herself and face planted.
It hasn’t been long since she last saw him, yet it feels like it’s been years. His eyes soften, as he takes in her appearance, his brow creases in worry, his hands clench. “What happened?”
He does not meet her eyes, but she tries. His cheeks aren’t stained like hers. Of course not, he is a Prince. Better offers than her. She told him she ‘can’t believe she wanted to marry him’, and he said nothing. Well, beforehand he said he wanted to marry her, but not anymore.
She looks away, and grins at everyone, and laughs, “hem got stuck, tripped over and face planted. The Elves skill is unmatched, but it isn’t worthy for searching the for the Arkenstone in.”
“Don’t worry lass Bofur will fix you up, and Nori can sew the rip,” Dori states, patting his brother on the back.
“What? Why can’t you do it? You’ve got far more years of prac–” Nori gasps, baffled, although his chest does puff proudly at the idea of doing it.
“Because your keen eye for the treasures of this world has made you more detail orientated,” Balin jokes, though his brow remains creased. Dori nods along, Bifur and he thump his younger brother again, almost knocking him to the ground, whilst Nori squares his shoulder, grinning proudly as he grounds himself.
“Have no fear, Miss (Y/n), for Nori is here.”
It does make her laugh, and Kíli preens at the sound from afar.
“Excuse me, excuse me,” the familiar distressed tone of Bilbo interrupts as he makes his way between Bifur and Balin, “let me look at her.” He stops in front of her, hands on her arms as his frown deepens. “This won’t do. It doesn’t look broken, thankfully.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy: Author is always me on this blog @daydreams-magic01-mrsdurin ~~~~~~~~~~~~
It had been a dramatic few days, no doubt, and dramatic several months more so. Of course, it will only get worse. Besides the constant ache in (Y/n)’s chest, there is a much larger issue. The Arkenstone.
It could not be found.
This has to be the worst week of (Y/n)’s life, and she was almost eaten by Goblins a couple months ago, not to mention then later imprisoned by the Mirkwood King. Although, admittedly, the cell was quite hygienic.
After her humiliation in the Armoury, their dear healer had cleaned her nose and stopped the bleeding. It’ll be red and hurt for a few more days, but no fracture. A relief, a small grace. She changed into her travelling dress, which was thankfully calf length, and had bathed. However, Bard had come in alliance with King Thranduil against them, but she cannot feel betrayed. Thorin made a promise, that must be kept.
She does not hesitate to follow Bilbo after seeing him sneak away during a break to find relief. Hurt at first, when Bilbo had explained she soon followed him.
After all, by then the entire Company knew the complete story of (Y/n) and Kíli, or at least his side from his brother. Thorin deemed her unworthy of a prince anyway in his dragon sickness, Nori was annoyed at her, Ori too, Dori was understanding somewhat, Balin understood her side, Dwalin too, Bifur, Bombur and Bofur did too but the last three remained on Kíli’s side. Glóin thought Kíli should have been clearer, the only one to speak out, due to his experience with the love of his life (his wife, although his son was also a love of his life). Fíli at least had the courtesy to look sheepish. It currently stood only Glóin, and Bilbo were on her side, Balin and Dwalin neither with everyone else on his. Óin sympathised, but still thought Kíli clear with his gifts, and letting her touch his hair. Understandable in (Y/n)’s eyes, touch is intimate. Still, it did not change the fact that he rejected her the first few times, making her think touch wasn’t intimate like with her own people, and he did not like her at first, and that the gifts after were Kíli being himself. Kíli is so kind, so gentle. Honestly, (Y/n) had not thought herself special enough to consider a Prince was courting her. Or perhaps she is stupid. She has always struggled with social cues.
Óin had told her to take the dagger off her side, it would give the wrong idea. (Y/n) told him, she told Kíli she had wanted to marry him before their dispute, and the prince did nothing to remedy that. The healer suggested Kíli did not hear her, (Y/n) had said maybe Óin could share his horn then.
Currently, she lies on a set up bed opposite Bilbo. That rat from Dale is meant to keep an eye on them. Why should they be punished? Bilbo has kindly offered them a negotiable item; the Company aren’t going to hurt them. If you had asked her ten days ago, she would have said the King Under the Mountain would never hurt them either – now she wasn’t so sure. Like Bilbo she is fiercely loyal to the entire Company, but King Thorin is in the wrong.
Sleep cannot find her, and she knows Bilbo well, he has a plan of escape brewing no doubt. She finds herself entertaining herself by pretending her fingers are people and making them converse and perform dramatic scenarios. Then she recreates her argument with Kíli, using far better comebacks, and delivering her point far better.
~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Where were you last night?”
(Y/n) jumps and yelps before turning around. Handsome. Kíli has always been the definition of that word and always will be. Her heart skips, a heat curling low in her belly. Now, he looked like a prince. An armoured one with no helmet, despite the high likelihood of an arrow in the head, a Prince.
Kíli has armour over his chainmail, ready to defend his Kingdom. (Y/n) despite her hurt cannot look away, it somehow highlights his hair, his skin tone, everything. Her face feels hot. (Y/n) has armour on also, though they could not find any women’s able to fit her chest due to altered bust size, so instead she wears men’s armour which at least pushes everything down. Bofur had spent an hour panicking, and dotting over her as he altered the straps to fit her, they dotted over Bilbo too. (Y/n) had previously shot Azog in his right eye after the Goblins, and he had accidentally pulled out the eye with the arrow, so they knew that she could handle herself against some Elves and Men, still everyone dotted over each other. It is what happens when a King decides to invite all his cousins on an adventure, and his closest friends.
“On a walk around the halls with Bilbo.” His brow furrows at her excuse. “Why do you care?”. It is still dark outside; the others are risen but keeping to themselves until just before sunrise. In truth (Y/n) and Bilbo had only returned an hour ago.
“You know why I care.” His gaze is soft, his eyes earnest, it hurts to look into them. She swallows the lump in her throat, and Kíli cannot stop his own gaze from drifting down to her neck to where it is then protected.
“I thought those feelings are gone.”
He flinches, gaze flying up, “what?” He whispers. He had spent all night worried about the attack, then worried she had been taken, and she truly deemed his feelings gone? How? “How can you say that to me?”
“You said it not me,” (Y/n) squares her shoulders, staring fiercely up to him.
Kíli was wounded, no doubt about that, but he is grown, not a child. He must make it clear, and they must talk through it. However, before he can, the passage begins to fill with voices, tearing away his gaze. Before he can stop himself, his gloved hand gently takes her own, causing (Y/n)’s breath to get stuck in her throat. He tries to ignore the heat spreading from her hand to his, and up his arm, “after this. After my uncle gives the people of Dale what he owes, I will find you.” The King, his uncle is a good person, he will do what is right, that he is sure off.
Her heart stutters at that, and despite her heart ache she finds herself biting her lip, fighting a smile. The prince notices and doesn’t try to hide his own smile at that.
How is it this dwarf can burn away her fury with a smile?
How is it this (y/r) can make his pain vanish with one look?
For a second both can only feel peace, as they gaze into one another.
(Y/n) gives a gentle nod.
~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy: Author is always me on this blog @daydreams-magic01-mrsdurin ~~~~~~~~~~~~
King Thorin did not give the people of Dale what he owes. Instead at the revelation of Bilbo’s betrayal he tried to kill him, Kíli and his family having to intervene. Then, of course, Thranduil had to knock the Dwarves down as much as he can. So, he jested that they could not even trust the future bride of one of their own Prince’s. Of course, Thorin had pulled out his sword, and both his nephews fought him off as she ran for the rope.
Is it truly betrayal if the one being betrayed has lost the plot?
Well, yes, and (Y/n) did not take that lightly, same as Bilbo. Of course, Thorin refused to accept it, War went to unfold with his cousin’s appeared forces, until Azog’s armies decided to make an appearance.
Kíli had been confused, and distraught at the revelation of the betrayal from the two, but he understood, which makes him feel like he was the one who betrayed his uncle.
In the end, Thorin fought the sickness, and the Dwarves joined the battle. (Y/n) fought bravely, taking down enemies, counting how many. Much to the bewilderment of others, she and Glóin had previously started a competition some point in the journey for count of kills, and with this battle, she is now leading. Hopefully.
When she saw Thorin, and the princes go up the mountain, she did not hesitate to follow. Kíli a kind and gentle soul did not hesitate to defend Tauriel, attempting to save her. By the time (Y/n) arrived, Fíli was dead, Thorin fighting Azog.
Bolg, the ugliest Orc ever, went to stab Kíli through the heart. Of course, he never got the chance as (Y/n) threw herself onto his head (she’s not stupid, you would need more than two people to kill that monster), making him stumble, Kíli in one hand, until he walked to the edge, and knocked she, Tauriel, Kíli, and himself off the edge. Legolas got the kill in the end, Kíli was still injured, his leg stabbed.
This brings (Y/n) to the present. Four days after Azog’s demise. Four days since the death of sweet Fíli, and King Thorin. Dáin, and Thranduil had both bought healers with their armies, and were unafraid to share them amongst their allies, thankfully. Like the rest of the company, she had paid respects at the bodies, unable to find Kíli, the last she saw of him being when she handed him away. He’d whispered things, similar to when he was poisoned, but this time she knew some words, such as Amrâlimê.
After everything, their argument seemed silly, she shouldn’t have stormed off, and he should have listened to her. Funny, what feelings can do to someone.
What should she do next? Return home?
What ever chance she had with Mister Kíli before, without a doubt has vanished. For he is The King Under the Mountain, there will be plenty of dwarf-women with luscious beads a Dwarf like him should prefer.
If Kíli could hear her thoughts, he would most certainly ask her if she was well. Clearly, he should have been more verbal with his desires. For three days – after spending a night and day unconscious – he has been dealing with logistics, future plans, funeral plans, and alliances with those who helped protect the mountain. Never, was he supposed to be King, Fíli was.
The reminder of his name pulls hard at his heart, and he has to clutch it in order to try and breath again. Why him? Why does he live?
Of course, he knows his Amrâlimê made it so, but why would Aulë allow it? Surely, he was the least qualified, immature.
He had barely been given an hour with his brother and uncle alone. Is he not King? Can he not deem where his time is spent? He has since reunited with the rest of the Company but finds himself watching (Y/n) from afar. Did she feel as he felt? Unable to breath when away from her? Unable to see the true beauty of the emerald Erebor without her by his side?
His entire life he has waited to go to Erebor, but now the Kingdom feels predatory, as if Smaug is still here, without his brother, uncle and mother by his side.
He watches her, clad in a fresh linen shirt, and trousers. He tries to stop his eyes from lingering on her body, having only seen her in dresses. Her hair is twisted in an updo. No ribbon today, making him frown. She must have lost it in the battle. He must scour the battlefield for it. (Y/n) prefers it to the clasps and ties currently in her hair. She has clearly put on the first clothes given to her, yet he finds himself unable to look away. He has never seen such a beauty, Mithril can barely compare to her.
She helps as she helps an injured Dwarf walk with a stick for the first time. So gentle, so kind.
He cannot look away from her, cannot fight the urge to be with her, consume her.
“Blimey. It’s like waiting for the market to open three hours early,” the voice startles him. Bilbo. “Stop watching her like some sort of criminal and talk to her.”
He faces the Hobbit, “sorry?”
Bilbo looks quite the definition of unamused. “We’re not blind, you know?”
“Exactly!” The voice of Ori yelps from afar, once again, the Company present are clearly watching their favourite play. A yelp soon follows as Dori clips him over the head, making Nori bellow a laugh.
“Look,” Bilbo says, placing a hand on his back as he turns them away, “it is true, you should have asked her to court you, not presumed. She doesn’t know all about your culture, you know? There aren’t many books on it, your people are quite secretive.” Kíli nods, proud of his people’s privacy. “I know she has feelings for you; I saw that dandelion you leapt after. Now is the time, sweet Dwarf to go and make your intentions known.”
Kíli stops walking, biting his lip as he turns to his friend, “I don't know. There has just been a ba-”
“- Before she leaves.” Bilbo interrupts him, sighing, nodding slowly as he turns to stare at the ground wistfully.
“What?!” Kíli shouts, causing everyone to turn to look at him quizzically, including (Y/n). “Nothing to see here.” They all quickly avert their gaze, except (Y/n) who lingers. “What do you mean she’s leaving?” He whispers, eyes trying to meet the Halfling’s who fails to look up from the floor.
“Well, she can’t stay forever, she has a life. Perhaps you can send her share of the treasure via courier?” Bilbo fights hard to fight of a smirk, which continues to succeed.
“A life?” Kíli looks distraught. He will be in her life, not matter what. He inhales, nodding as he straightens his back, sharpening his posture. He puffs out the chest, “I will talk to her. Apologise.”
“Good on you,” Bibo lets himself grin as the young Dwarf turns on his heel, and begins to limp over to her.
He’s doing it. He is doing it! HE IS DOING IT!
“Excuse me, my King –“
He is not doing it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~
It is only that evening is the King spare, having allocated supplies and food for the time being. Kíli’s easy smile falls to his face as he hobbles along to the new chambers delegated to his lady. Of course, if she accepted his offer her chambers will be far finer.
His knocks are firm, and within a minute (Y/n) opens the door, a flash of heat hits his body from the fireplace. His bow is deep, and he grins as he rises, then his smile falls. She is glad in a nightgown, a spare hide pulled around her shoulders. He gasps, quickly averting his eyes to her face as his cheeks redden, and he swallows the lump in his throat.
Her mouth opens in a gentle ‘oh’, her cheeks also flushing. Good, Kíli thinks to himself, having some hope she is as mad for him, as he is she.
“I have come to apologise. I told you I’d find you.” He smirks, trying not to watch as she fixes her grip on her makeshift shawl.
“You told me you’d find me.” She gently repeats, the cold of the stonework seeping through her thick socks.
“I apologise for the time; this is my first moment alone. But I was foolish, you are undressed, and I apologise -”
She cuts him off with a gentle laugh, it tugs at his heart, his arm twitching as he fights to stop it from clutching his heart. “Don’t be daft, Mister – My King, you have seen me in worser conditions on our adventure.”
He has not. She always had layers over her nightgown due to propriety and the temperature. In fact, he is certain she did not wear a nightgown, instead underclothes like men underneath another dress she wore for the evening. A dress not of white cotton, thin material.
She steps aside to let him in, and he bows in thanks, making her laugh. “A King should not bow.”
He turns to her, eyes firm, serious, making her cheeks flush harsher, “I will always bow to you.”
Oh my. Now her cheeks burn, she can feel it radiating, the muscles in her face hurt from smiling as she swallows, the warmth spreading through her.
“Oh.”
“First I wish to thank you for saving -,” one hand remains on his stick, grounding him, the other fumbling behind his back when she cuts him off.
Her mouth is set in a line, eyes firm, commanding as she shakes her head, shutting the door behind him, “don’t be so bloody ridiculous. I wasn’t going to just let you die.”
“No. No. Of course not, what I mean, is –,” the flush on his face and neck spreads to his ears, and down his arms, staining his skin pink.
“Ever.”
Blimey. Kíli nods to himself, unable to take his eyes from hers no matter how much he wishes to look away to gather himself.
“But you are welcome,” (Y/n) grins at him, teasing him. Blimey. He loves it.
“Thank you,” his easy smirk attempts to fight the flush on his face, “secondly – I. I know I am in the wrong. I shouldn’t have expected you to know our rituals, I should have asked you –”
“Wait, Kíli –” She shakes her head, reaching out a hand to stop him, but he cuts her off.
“Please, let me finish,” she nods, and he takes a gulp of air, “I shouldn’t have said what I did either. My pride was wounded; I should have listened to you.” She nods as he speaks, not in agreement but in earnest, to show she is listening. “I should have asked you, I thought you were asking me, but still, I am the Dwarf. I should have noticed how easily you kept asking to braid my hair, that you didn't know the meaning. I'm sorry.”
It is late, she was on the brink of sleep, and despite planning the conversation in her head the past week, she did not imagine it to occur like this. Here the King stands in her chambers, late at night, clad in similar wear to his journey, yet to step into fully into his reign. The crown he has donned the last few days is not here. He is here as Kíli, she realises, not as the second in line after Fíli, nor as the King. Kíli. With so long to stew in her anger, and humiliation, all that is left is her hurt, her vulnerability.
His eyes are soft, so soft, yet they attempt to strip back the layers of her soul as they gaze into her eyes, “the truth is – I was upset. I thought finally someone finds me... attractive. And not just anyone, you, the only one amongst Dwarves, a Halfling and a Wizard. The longer we spent together, the more I enjoyed your presence, then when we began to what I thought was courting, I could not consider being away from you.” He gasps for air again, watching as sweet (Y/n) clutches her chest.
“Please, please, just forgive me.” He almost whispers, lips parting dutifully as his earnestness in his eyes grows, “when Fíli told me the truth I was furious at him, even more so you. Still, I should have never spoken to my brother and you as I did. Especially you, when our relat – our friendship could not mend as easily. I didn't listen to you.”
So much more he wishes to say, yet he finds himself unable to, not when her lips part again, so eager to speak before she does.
“Oh Kíli,” his eyes clench shut for a second, unable to take how it sounds on her lips, “I should have noticed, especially with your most recent gift.” He fights back a flinch as he remembers how it looked to see her without it; how much it hurt when she took it off. All his own doing. “The truth is, I never thought you, as wonderful, as kind as you are… could ever fancy me.” His brows furrow at that. Does she not realise her beauty rivals the rarest jewel? “When you let me braid your hair, I enjoyed it far more than I should have. I was confused by your sudden change of character, thought you finally thought of me as a member of this company. When Fíli told me I was shocked and horrified I had been courting you without showing how I felt. I was shocked at finding myself courting anyone, this is my first time, you see.” Kíli fights back an evil thought of ‘good’ at the idea of (Y/n) never courting anyone beforehand. “When you confronted me, I was angry, angry you were playing victim, when I felt it was I who was fooled. You should have asked me to court you, but I also should have asked about the braiding and the looks the company were giving us. When you said you couldn’t believe you had ever wished to marry me, I was wounded and angry, that is why I said it back. I was angry, so angry, which is why I fled, why I cried, why I stupidly tripped over myself and hit my nose, and why I was even angrier at you for not crying when I came in with Óin.”
The smile that begun to grow, the hope in his chest falls. “I did this to you?” He whispers, heart breaking and before he can stop him self the hand behind his back moves to gently cup her cheek. He stops himself from actually touching her, thankfully, merely hovering. Under no circumstances would he ever wish to make her uncomfortable. “D-does it still hurt?” He gulps.
She shakes her head, brows softening, eyes as soft and as deep as a spring. Before she can stop herself, she clasps her own hand over his, placing it against her cheek. She does not move her hand, and both try to ignore the swarming butterflies in their bellies.
In truth her pain had long since faded, par when she touches it harshly, which she has learned not to do.
“Oh, my dear Kíli, I did this. My clumsiness,” she lets out a breathless laugh, “you would never hurt me, and never could. I’d kill you if you ever did.”
They both laugh at that.
“My world… my world has ended,” Kíli admits, “my brother is gone.” He clenches his eyes shut, head tilting up to the ceiling ever so slightly, and her own eyes begin to well at the memory, of her own friendship, but the tears that slip from her are for his pain. “My uncle, my King, killed. My mother is far away, I -,” he opens his eyes, letting his tears fall loose as he looks down to her, “I should want to die. I do, but not as much as I should.” She gasps at the idea of him ever dying, the pain too much and before she can stop her urge, she places her other hand on his chest, over his heart. “I know I have a duty, I know I should live for those we have lost. I want to make them proud – I-I do.” His voice cracks at that, “I confess, I am holding on that bit more because I know you are still here, on this plain. That somewhere, no matter where you are, you will be happy. And that happiness makes me happy. I wish to bare witness to it, to your happiness, everyone’s, but mostly yours.”
“Oh Kíli.”
His forehead tilts to meet her own, causing their breath to get caught in their throats, as their eyes shut closed. For a second, they stay like that, not moving, not touching further.
“I confess, my feelings remain unchanged. I must know if you accept my apology, you owe nothing else.”
Her eyes drift open, unable able to tear from his closed ones. “Oh Kíli, not matter how mad at you I am, I could never stop loving you.”
He gasps, eyes flying open, meeting hers. “O-oh.”
“I accept your apology, if you accept mine.”
“There is no need for me to, Amrâlimê. You did nothing wrong. I was the fool.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy: Author is always me on this blog @daydreams-magic01-mrsdurin ~~~~~~~~~~~~
As much as the King wanted to marry her, he needed time to grieve, and (Y/n) to sort her affairs. So, seven moons later he proposed marriage, she accepted and four moons later they were married.
Oh, how glorious. How glorious indeed.
They only waited so long so Bilbo could attend, which he did.
Also, (Y/n) had to wait for the finest craftsman to make her headpiece. A gorgeous tiara, instead of spikes, gorgeous yellow dandelions spaced apart, and dripping down from each an array of jewels resting against her forehead. When Kíli saw the tiara, he’d never smiled so wide, and his cheeks were already aching, his lips feelings as if they would tear.
It was a wonderful ceremony, and an even better lifetime they spent together.
Amongst other things on their wedding night, Kíli presented her with a gorgeous bead, yet to take out the one she gifted him the year prior, and the two of them braided each others hair.
~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Guys, lowkey I have a great fanfic idea across the movies, about an abomination female character (half dwarf/half hobbit) and our favourite prince, lowkey little enemies vibes, etc. I don't know, though. Ah. I would have to post it on Ao3 too, of course. Though, I do not have an account.
summary: Kili Durin loves stars. He wants to tell you why.
ship: kili x reader
word count: 1k
genre: fluff/angst
a/n: just ignore the comment he made in the movie about stars feeling lonely okay I forgot about it while writing this okay good thank you 😁 ofc I fell in love with another long haired brunette
“Oh! Oh! That one looks like the outline of a mince pie!” Kili exclaimed, face scrunching up in a fit of giggles. You squinted, and then shook your head with a grin.
The younger of the Durin brothers had always been fascinated by the stars. Whether it be on his scheduled night watches or marching to the next place he’ll call his temporary home, you would always catch a glimpse of the dwarf marveling at the stars above. On several occasions, you watched him stumble over his own feet because he took his eyes off the walking path for too long.
One night, curiosity and longing got the better of you and you decided to ask why.
“Why on Earth do you stare up at the sky so much, dwarf?” You inquired, shuffling closer to Kili so their arms grazed each other as they walked side by side.
Kili faux scoffed at the dwarf comment and half dramatically put a hand to his chest. His gaze then settled on the rocky path before him, making sure to not embarrass himself by tripping again. “I suppose … it just amazes me. The sky puts on display billions of twinkling balls of light every night, almost like they’re guarding us as we rest. It’s part of the reason why I take the night watch, really. Someone needs to admire their beauty as they do us.”
Ever since getting to know Kili on your journey to Erebor, you had always admired Kili’s boyish wonder about everyday life. Even when everyone was exhausted and they had to find another spiky cave to sleep in for shelter, he’d always find a way to make the glass half full or crack a joke to get the company to laugh. They still had a flower Kili had gifted you with a flirty bow a couple days ago when their path went through a meadow of sweet smelling Elanor flowers, just to get you to smile after a tiring day. He always tried to remind the company, his brother, and you, to see the good things in life, no matter how bleak things may seem in the current moment.
You didn’t even realize they had tears building up in their eyes until the dwarf had finished sharing his wide-eyed thoughts. It blinked them away and mirrored Kili by looking at the ground, refusing to make it known how much his worldview affected them.
“You really do never cease to fascinate me.”
—
‘No. Please no. It was going to be me. It should have been me.’ That was all that was going through your dazed brain whenever Kili had knocked you out of Bolg’s clutches. You slid to the edge of the icy mountain cliff and lay there helplessly as Kili went toe to toe with the orc. It was an unfair battle and a fruitless effort, deep down both of you knew that.
When Kili tried to get another blow on the creature, Bolg’s fist slammed the direct center of Kili’s face, dazing him enough to make him lose his focus so Bolg could now hold his throat in a vice grip. In the blink of an eye, Bolg brought down his spear into Kili’s chest, making a sickening squelch. A choked noise of agony ripped from your throat as Kili’s limp body was dropped to the cold ground. Your arm weakly reached out to your wounded soldier.
Bolg stepped over to you and spoke Orkish over your sobbing. "Killing you would not make a difference." With that, he stomped down the mountain. You only knew that because they felt the vibrations of his footsteps. You had not taken their eyes off of Kili. And despite the heaviness of his eyelids, Kili hadn’t taken his eyes off you.
You forced themselves to rip away your gaze from the dwarf to see if Bolg finally left, and once they made sure he was out of sight, you bolted to Kili’s side as fast as your beaten and battered body could muster. The pain didn’t matter right now. Nothing else mattered except Kili. A sentiment you had said to yourself a lot over their journey, but none as definitive as this.
Hastily, you put your hand under his head. Partially so he could look at you better, but also you were desperate to provide him with any form of comfort. His face was bruised and bloody and definitely not your cheery confidant. Your other hand reached for his. How weakly he grabbed your hand in response caused another wave of salty tears to break free.
“Hey, hey, hey… Look at me. Look at me. You’re going to be fine. I-I’ll go get help. I’ll find Thorin, yes, I’ll find Thorin and then everything will b-” You shut your mouth completely as you felt Kili squeeze their hand a little harder this time and made a noise sounding like coherent words. “You… want to know the other reason I like stars?”
You were bewildered. You had no idea why or how he could be thinking about something as trivial as that right now, but you played along. You nodded, almost imperceivably.
KIli blinked away a wave of tiredness and focused on you as much as he could. “They look like your eyes.” As slow as can be, he reached his free hand up to your face and, with a feather light touch, brushed his knuckles against your cheek. “Glad I get to look at the stars one more time.” A ghost of a smile appeared on his face, ever trying to get them to do the same.
Your eyes blur and stung with tears. Your chest pounded from the sheer volume of their sobbing. Everything hurt. But you refused to take their eyes off of Kili’s.
You figured the least that they could do was give him a galaxy to admire as he faded.
✧ warnings: clingy!kili, canon-typical kíli behavior, mentions of injuries, light jealousy, physical touch and cuddling, teasing and banter, established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff.
✧ wc: 1.7k
kili durin x fem!reader
♡ Not because he was reckless all the time...
...despite what his brother claimed.
But because Kíli simply filled every space he entered. Campfires seemed brighter when he was there. Conversations somehow became louder. Even during difficult days on the road, he always found some way to make somebody smile...usually himself first.
And once he fell for you, there was no escaping his attention.
At first it would be little things.
You'd look up during dinner and catch him staring.
Not subtly, either.
Just openly staring across the fire until Fíli cleared his throat and Kíli immediately looked away, grinning like he'd done nothing wrong.
"Wasn't lookin' at anythin'."
"You were staring at her."
"No, I wasn't."
"You were."
"Just a little."
Unlike his brother, Kíli isn't particularly good at hiding his feelings. He tries. He genuinely does. But the moment he likes someone; it becomes obvious to nearly everyone around him.
Especially you.
♡ Kíli is incredibly affectionate.
Not in a polished, princely sort of way.
He's not the type to recite poetry beneath your window or speak in elegant speeches.
His affection comes through action.
He sits beside you whenever possible and finds excuses to touch your hand. He djusts your cloak when it slips from your shoulders. He makes sure your plate has enough food before he serves himself.
And if you're walking through rough terrain, you'll suddenly find his hand hovering behind your back.
He worries (that's something he never really thought he'd do)
And because he cares.
If you point it out, he'll immediately become defensive.
"I wasn't hoverin'."
"You were."
"Was not."
"Kíli."
♡ He loves making you laugh.
In fact, he becomes slightly competitive about it.
If somebody else gets a bigger laugh from you than he does...Kíli suddenly decides he needs to be ten times funnier. Which usually results in him embarrassing himself.
Spectacularly.
He'd rather trip over a log and have you laughing so hard you're crying than spend the entire evening looking impressive.
Your laughter becomes one of his favorite sounds.
Something he unconsciously seeks out. Especially during difficult times.
The Quest is dangerous. The road is exhausting.
There are days when everyone is tired, hungry, frightened. And somehow Kíli still manages to find a ridiculous joke simply because he notices you've been quiet for too long.
♡ One thing people don't realize about Kíli is how observant he actually is.
Everyone notices the confidence..the charm...the jokes.
What they miss is how closely he watches the people he loves.
He notices when you're cold before you mention it.
When you've gone unusually quiet, when something is bothering you, even when you're pretending you're fine.
You can insist all day that nothing is wrong.
Kíli won't push...but he'll stay near.
A shoulder pressed against yours. Maybe an arm draped around you.
Just waiting until you're ready to talk.
♡ He's protective.
Kíli respects your ability to take care of yourself. He knows you're capable.
But if danger appears? The switch happens instantly.
One moment he's smiling and the next he's standing between you and whatever threatens you.
Bow already in hand...eyes sharp like nothing you've seen before. Especially from him.
And his voice suddenly serious...it kinda scares you because it's one of the few times his youthful energy disappears completely.
You catch glimpses of the warrior beneath all the jokes...the prince beneath all the mischief.
And it's enough to remind everyone that Kíli is far more dangerous than he sometimes appears.
♡ When he's injured, however, he becomes unbearable.
Absolutely unbearable.
Because Kíli refuses to admit he's hurt.
You could find him bleeding from three separate places and he'd still insist he's fine.
"It's only a scratch."
"Kíli, that's not a scratch."
"Looks like one."
"You're bleeding...heavily."
"Well, yes...but that's hardly my fault."
You end up treating half his injuries yourself because otherwise he'd simply ignore them.
The secret is acting annoyed. If you sound worried, he becomes stubborn.
But if you sound irritated, he suddenly cooperates.
...mostly because he likes seeing you fuss over him.
♡ He's surprisingly clingy after nightmares.
Not that he'd ever admit it...
Dwarves carry long memories, long grief, and long fears.
Sometimes the weight of everything catches up with him during the night.
Those are the nights he unconsciously reaches for you.
Pulling you closer and holding onto your hand...resting his forehead against yours.
Usually half asleep and needing reassurance without saying so.
By morning he'll pretend nothing happened.
But his hand won't leave yours for hours afterward.
♡ Kíli falls hard.
Far harder than he expects to.
One day he realizes he isn't thinking about the quest first thing in the morning.
He's thinking about you.
Whether you slept well, if you're warm enough, if you've eaten.
Even if you're smiling or not.
And that realization terrifies him. Because suddenly there is something he cannot bear to lose.
For all his confidence, loving someone makes him vulnerable.
But he'd never regret it.
Not once.
If anything, Kíli becomes even more himself around you.
The version of him few people ever get to see...the young dwarf who leans his head against your shoulder after a long day.
The one who steals your blanket and then claims it was already his.
Who smiles whenever you enter a room without even realizing he's doing it.
And every single time you catch him staring, he still reacts exactly the same way.
A crooked grin. Completely unashamed.
"Can you blame me?" he asks.
And somehow, after all this time, you never can.
(clingy kíli. cuddles, kisses, and all the soft things)
♡ One thing nobody warns you about is how clingy Kíli becomes once he's comfortable with you.
Not in an overwhelming way. Just in the sense that he genuinely prefers being near you whenever possible.
If you're sitting by the fire, he'll somehow end up beside you.
If you're helping prepare camp, he'll find an excuse to join you.
If you're talking with someone else, he'll casually drift into the conversation until he's standing shoulder-to-shoulder with you again.
At some point you realize he's been following you around for the better part of an hour.
"Kíli."
"What?"
"Are you following me?"
"No."
"..."
"...Maybe."
♡ Kíli is a spooning man 100%
After a long day on the road, he wants you tucked safely against him.
One arm around your waist and the other draped over you.
His face buried somewhere near your hair.
He sleeps warmer than a furnace, which becomes both a blessing and a curse depending on the season.
In winter?
Perfect.
Summer?
You're trying not to melt while Kíli stubbornly refuses to move.
The worst part? He's surprisingly strong in his sleep.
Once his arms are around you, escaping becomes nearly impossible.
(not that you want to anyways)
When he's especially tired, he becomes even more affectionate.
His head finds your shoulder automatically. His hand searches for yours without looking.
Sometimes he'll simply lean against you with a content little sigh.
Those moments feel strangely intimate...
Kíli spends so much of his life being loud and energetic. And getting to see him quiet feels like a privilege.
♡ His favorite place to kiss you is your forehead.
Partly because it's easy (when he can reach lol)
Partly because it makes him feel protective.
You could be half asleep, reading, listening to someone speak.
And suddenly—
A quick kiss against your forehead. As though he simply couldn't resist.
When you ask why he keeps doing that, he grins.
"Because I can."
♡ He loves brushing stray hair away from your face.
Especially when you're focused on something.
You'll be concentrating on mending clothes or cleaning a weapon when suddenly his fingers are gently tucking a loose strand behind your ear.
Then he's smiling at you...like seeing your face properly was somehow important.
♡ Kíli is the type who constantly reaches for you without realizing it.
Your hand...your sleeve...your arm.
...the edge of your cloak.
Some small point of contact.
If you're walking together, his shoulder keeps bumping yours. If you're sitting together, his knee finds yours.
The contact is rarely intentional.
But it happens...
Like his body naturally seeks you out.
♡ When he's worried about you, his affection becomes much softer.
The teasing disappears and the jokes become less frequent.
Instead, he checks on you.
Repeatedly.
"Have you eaten?"
"Yes."
"Today?"
"...Yes."
"Properly?"
You eventually learn that Kíli worries through acts of service.
Blankets appear, food appears, water appears.
You never actually see him doing it. Things simply start showing up around you.
♡ His favorite cuddling position isn't always spooning.
Sometimes, after particularly difficult days, he'll lie on his back and pull you against his chest.
One arm wrapped around you and your head beneath his chin.
...his fingers absentmindedly tracing circles along your arm.
Those nights usually end with him falling asleep first.
Something that rarely happens.
Because for once, he's relaxed enough to let his guard down.
♡ Kíli adores being greeted after time apart.
Whether it's a few hours or a few days. The moment he spots you, his entire face changes.
His smile gets bigger and his eyes light up.
He starts walking faster without even realizing it.
You quickly learn that Kíli has absolutely no dignity when he's excited to see you.
It's adorable...
♡ Perhaps the sweetest thing about loving Kíli is that he never acts embarrassed by it.
He isn't ashamed of caring. Isn't ashamed of looking at you with stars in his eyes. Isn't ashamed of reaching for your hand.
Life is dangerous and the road is uncertain.
Tomorrow is never promised.
So if Kíli loves you, he loves you openly.
Like every day beside you is a gift he never intends to take for granted.
And every night, when he pulls you close and presses a sleepy kiss against your forehead before drifting off, you can't help but think the same...
MY WORK IS MY OWN AND I HAVE OWNERSHIP OF MY CREATIONS. DO NOT STEAL, COPY OR REPOST!
☆ day twenty: kíli durin ☆
— the hobbit kíli x human + healer gn!reader with the following prompt: "You ever fall in love?" / "I don't know."
w/c: 1.2k words
a/n: reader is a human healer. soulmate au (the One trope has me in a chokehold send help) :)
click here for the original event post.
MASTERLIST
You've grown a head, or maybe two. He stared at you, warily, attention never once wavering. The dwarves around the fire continued to ignore you, occasionally pulling Kíli away from his momentary distraction, but not for long. Never for long.
You avert your gaze. Being the only human alongside the Company had its drawbacks, including the stares you'd sometimes get. Kíli hadn't made a habit out of it, but as of right now, you wished he'd return to his brother, to his friends and family. It was getting tiresome.
Kíli leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs as he locked eyes with yours.
"I have a question," he said, voice only loud enough for your ears.
You frowned. "What?" He'd already annoyed you thus far, an inkling of something you couldn't quite place pitted in the depths of your heart. You'd felt many things recently, but this one was... odd. Like even if you tried to run away from it, it stayed right there, unmoving. Stationary 'till the end of time.
"Don't think me foolish for this, yeah?"
Your eyebrow quirked up. "Why would I think you foolish? What are you about to ask me?"
A smile smile quirked on his lips. "A question you may not like," he said, sighing softly. He sat up straight, hands clamping down on the edge of his knees. "Alright, I'll just come out with it. No need in beating around the bush any longer. Have you ever fallen in love?"
The question made his brother sputter from across the camp, Bofur now wearing a spray of stew on his coat.
He was not as quiet as he wished to be.
The sudden realization that everyone had heard it crawled up your spine. Kíli paid no mind, his attention trained entirely on you.
"Well?"
"I—" you began, cutting yourself off as you thought of how best to answer. "Well, um, I don't—I don't know."
Kíli's handsome face found a smile soon after. "You don't know?" he softly asked, eyes searching yours. There were only so many implications to be had, and all of his were on the ground before you.
If the gods could sing your graces, they would have done so ten times over. He would worship the very ground you walked on, and he hardly knew a thing about you save for the fact you're awfully good with your hands and a healer of great renown.
Balin had whispered a few nights before about a dwarf's mate. Kíli prayed his was you.
"No," you eventually got out, shaking your head. "No, I don't know."
"How do you not know?" Kíli asked. "You've never felt as if someone has taken the very breath from your lungs? Never felt nervous around another, or as if you were standing before the very sun reincarnated to a being on Earth? Have you ever—"
"—oh, shove off, Kíli! Leave the healer alone!" Fíli called out from across the campsite, earning a glare in return from his brother.
Kíli huffed softly and crossed his arms over his chest, eyes flickering to yours once more.
"No," you said. "At least... I don't think so. I don't know if I... if I have ever truly paid that much attention, before."
"Oh? Then perhaps you should," a voice from beside of you said. A bowl of stew was held before you, Bofur smiling down at you. "I'd imagine it's a right joy to feel that way, no?"
You hesitantly took the stew, looking down at it—Bombur had managed to turn a decent meal from the squirrels and root vegetables that had been gathered earlier in the evening.
"Thank you," you said, clearing your throat.
Bofur nudged you gently. "Seriously, love. Kíli's a daft dwarf, but he wouldn't be asking you for no reason. Maybe he's hiding something."
Kíli's eyes widened. "Hiding something? I'm doing no such thing—"
"—yes you are," Fíli interrupted, plopping down beside of him. He looked over in your direction, raising a brow. "Perhaps this is a conversation you should finish when you're actually alone."
Kíli flushed but shrugged, looking away from you. "Yes. Alright."
You sipped at your stew, eyeing the vegetables only for a moment. You did not look back up, but as Bofur took a seat beside of you, you listened to his words.
"I think the young prince may believe you to be far more important than he's admitted, healer," he said, smiling softly. "Seems like a conversation you most definitely should have when we travel tomorrow. Stay close to the back and let him find you when we walk."
You looked up at Bofur, giving a small and hesitant nod. Kíli caught your eye from across the camp sight, his flush still evident.
"I can do that," you said, loud enough only for the few around you, but Kíli caught it sure enough.
—
He was a beautiful dwarf—that much you could concede as you walked alongside him, acknowledging the fact that he was also quite tall for someone of his race. Much taller than many of the others. It seemed to be a consistent thing amongst the Durin line. Was it that way for his mother as well? What had he said her name was? Dís?
You had been alone for nearly twenty minutes, walking and looking at each other but not a word truly said. The fear of saying the wrong thing settled between the two of you, and while you knew you should speak, should do something, anything, you refused.
Kíli refused up until the point the sun started to set in the west, the start of twilight washing over the once beautifully blue sky. And then, as Thorin told the others to find a place that would be good to rest for the night, he stopped in his tracks and grabbed onto your arm, looking up at you with wide eyes.
"I must tell you," he began, clearing his throat. "You deserve to know, lest we find—lest we find ourselves in a not so savory situation."
Your brows furrowed, but you nodded, urging him to continue.
"I only asked you if you had fallen in love before because of one reason, and one reason only."
"What is that reason?"
"I believe you to be my One."
You blinked owlishly.
He smiled, unable to help himself. "My One. The soul created for me. The One I will love until the end of my days and wait in the afterlife for your soul to find mine."
Your eyes widened. "What?"
"Yes," he said, nodding. "I believe it. I know it."
Your heart pounded in your chest, a rhythm of fear and excitement melting into one consistent beat. His One. If your memory serves you well, then that means you have reason for never falling in love before, for you were meant for something far greater. Dwarves only truly mate once in their long lives, don't they? And here you were, walking alongside the dwarf who was meant for you.
The implication of such a feat wriggled itself into the back of your mind, but you said nothing of it. To hell with it. If you must die in the coming days taking back the Mountain, then you would do so with the notion that your soulmate would die with you.
Oh, bother. Don't be so dramatic. Your healing hands will be a balm for many souls.
The Company’s campsite was rarely quiet, but tonight, the atmosphere was thick with the low, rumbling hum of dwarven chatter, the rhythmic scraping of a whetstone against steel, and the crackle of a roaring fire.
You sat a little ways back from the warmth, leaning against a moss-covered boulder, trying to patch a fraying seam in your traveling cloak. The firelight played tricks on your eyes, making the needlework twice as frustrating as it usually was.
"You're going to put your eye out if you keep frowning at it like that."
You looked up to see Fíli standing a few paces away. He had two wooden tankards of ale in his hands and that familiar, easygoing grin tugging at the corner of his lips. The fire caught the gold clasps in his braided hair, making them gleam against the dark backdrop of the woods.
"I am fighting for my life against a piece of thread," you admitted, letting your hands drop into your lap with a sigh. "And I think the thread is winning."
Fíli chuckled, stepping closer and offering you one of the tankards. "Here. A tactical retreat. Drink this, let your eyes rest, and then you can launch a counter-attack."
"My hero," you teased, taking the mug. Your fingers brushed against his—just a brief, casual second of contact—but it was enough to send a quiet spark straight up your arm.
Instead of heading back to where his brother, Kíli, was currently trying to juggle pinecones, Fíli hesitated. He cleared his throat, gesturing vaguely to the empty patch of grass beside you. "Mind if I sit?"
"Always."
He dropped down, his heavy fur coat rustling against yours as he settled in. For a few minutes, a comfortable silence stretched between you. You took a sip of the ale, enjoying the way the cool night air contrasted with the warmth of the fire and the steady, grounding presence of the blonde prince beside you.
You turned your head to say something—any casual remark about the trail or the weather—but when you looked at him, you caught him already staring at you.
He didn't look away. Instead, his gaze softened, tracing the line of your jaw, the stray hairs blowing across your face, and finally settling on your eyes. There was an intensity in his expression that hadn't been there a moment ago, something raw and unshielded.
Under his gaze, the words you had been about to say completely evaporated. Your mind went entirely, beautifully blank. You just sat there, holding your breath, caught in the gravity of him.
Fíli blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, and a sudden, uncharacteristic flush crept up his neck, dusting his cheeks beneath his golden beard. He looked down at his tankard, a breathless, self-deprecating laugh escaping him. He rubbed the back of his neck, his usual royal composure entirely deserting him.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice dropping an octave, thick with a strange sort of frustration. "I'm doing it again."
"Doing what?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Fíli looked back up, his blue eyes searching yours, looking utterly defeated by whatever it was he was feeling.
"I genuinely don’t know why my brain just goes blank when I look at you," he confessed, shaking his head with a breathless laugh. "I think I’m going a little crazy."
Your heart did a violent, erratic dance against your ribs. "Crazy?"
"Completely," he said, shifting so he was facing you more fully, setting his drink aside. "I am a prince of Erebor. I’ve been trained to think on my feet, to command, to keep my wits about me in the middle of a battlefield. I can formulate a battle strategy under a hail of arrows. But I look at you, sitting here in the dirt with a needle and thread, and I forget my own name."
He reached out, his hand hovering for a fraction of a second before his knuckles gently brushed against your cheek, catching a strand of hair and tucking it behind your ear. His touch was incredibly warm against the crisp night air.
"It’s infuriating," he whispered, though his eyes were incredibly tender. "I spend all day thinking of things to say to you, clever things, funny things... and the moment you look back at me, it's just... gone. Total silence in my head. All I can think about is how much I want to be near you."
You swallowed hard, your hand trembling slightly as you set your own tankard down. The camp around you—the laughter of Bofur, the loud snores of Bombur, the clinking of weapons—all of it faded into distant background noise.
"Fíli," you breathed, leaning into his touch just a fraction. "You're not the only one. I completely forgot what I was about to say to you a second ago."
A slow, relieved smile broke through his anxiety, transforming his face. "Really?"
"Really," you smiled, reaching up to place your hand over his where it rested on your cheek. "If you're going crazy, at least we're losing our minds together."
Fíli let out a soft huff of laughter, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. The tension left his shoulders, replaced by a quiet, profound certainty. He leaned in a little closer, his forehead gently resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the cold air.
"I can live with that," he murmured, his eyes dropping to your lips before rising back to yours, silently asking for permission. "As long as I'm losing it over you."
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
Hi guys, i am finally back! All of my exams are finished and summer vacation officially started so i can start writing fics again.
AN: as you can see by the screenshot above — after failing for the 5th time I gave up on trying to answer this request directly. Anon, wherever you are, I wrote it!!! I hope they'll find it tbh
The first time Fíli saw you, you were standing in the middle of a noisy classroom in Laketown with chalk dust on your sleeves and three children hanging onto your skirts while you tried to explain letters to them. The room was small and crooked like most things in the town, warmed only by a weak stove and your patient smile, yet somehow he thought it was the warmest place he had seen in weeks. He lingered in the doorway longer than he should have while the children stared curiously at the golden-haired dwarf prince peeking inside, and when your eyes finally lifted to meet his, he forgot entirely what errand he had been sent on.
“Can I help you?” you asked with amused gentleness, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, and Fíli straightened immediately as though caught doing something embarrassing. “ah—my apologies,” he said, trying to recover his princely composure while Kíli’s muffled laughter echoed from somewhere outside. “I was looking for the market square.” One of the children loudly informed him he was “very bad at finding things,” and your laugh followed him all the way back into the street.
After that, he found far too many reasons to pass by the schoolhouse. Sometimes he brought firewood under the excuse that the winter air was too sharp for children, sometimes fresh bread from the market, and sometimes nothing at all except himself. He would sit at the back while the children practiced reading, huge hands folded carefully in his lap while you moved among the desks correcting shaky handwriting. The children adored him almost immediately; they climbed onto his knees and begged for stories about mountains and dragons and gold, and Fíli always glanced toward you while he spoke, watching your expression soften in the candlelight. You, meanwhile, discovered that beneath his confidence and princely charm was someone startlingly gentle. He remembered every child’s name after hearing it once, repaired broken stools without being asked, and listened to your worries with quiet seriousness when the town grew tense and fearful after the dragon’s awakening. One snowy evening, after helping you stack books onto a shelf, he murmured,“You care for them as though they are your own family.” You smiled sadly at that. “Someone has to.” Fíli looked at you for a long moment before replying softly,
“You would make any place feel like home.”
..
Then the dragon came.
The sky burned orange and gold as Laketown erupted into chaos, flames swallowing rooftops while people screamed and fled toward the frozen waters. Smoke clawed at your throat as you stumbled through the streets trying desperately to gather as many children as possible, pushing frightened little hands toward safety while embers rained around you like deadly stars. The heat was unbearable; beams cracked and collapsed, and somewhere nearby someone was crying for help. You nearly fell when part of a burning roof crashed beside you, but suddenly strong arms caught you before you hit the ground.
“I've got you,” Fíli said immediately, his voice firm despite the terror surrounding you. His braid was half undone, ash streaked across his face, and his blue eyes were frantic as they searched you for injuries. “Are you hurt?” You could only shake your head, trembling violently as another explosion lit the night behind him. “The children?” you gasped. “Safe,” he promised. “Kíli and the others are helping them onto the boats.” Relief hit you so hard your knees weakened, and without hesitation Fíli pulled you against him for one brief, fierce moment, shielding you from sparks with his own body.
The docks were madness, crowded with terrified townsfolk pushing toward the boats while fire reflected horribly across the black water. You stood frozen at the edge for a second, staring back at the town that had been your entire life as it disappeared beneath flames. “I have nothing left,” you whispered brokenly. Fíli’s expression softened instantly. “Then come with us,” he said. “To Erebor.” You looked at him in disbelief. “Fíli…” “Come home with me,” he repeated quietly, stepping closer until his forehead almost touched yours. “You should not have to face this alone.” Before you could answer, another blast shook the docks and instinctively you flinched toward him. His hand slipped gently into yours. “Here,” he murmured.
He guided you carefully toward one of the boats, one arm steady around your waist so you would not slip on the frozen wood. When he helped you down into the boat, his touch was impossibly careful, as though you were something precious he feared breaking. “Easy there, lass” he whispered, kneeling beside you for a moment despite the chaos around him. “I’ve got you.” Even surrounded by smoke and grief and ruin, his thumb brushed softly across your knuckles, grounding you completely.
..
Erebor felt impossibly vast when you first arrived there months later, all glittering halls and towering stone ceilings that made you feel very small and very human. At first you thought you would never belong there. Servants bowed when you passed, noble dwarves watched you curiously, and every elegant gown placed into your chambers only reminded you that you had once owned little more than a few books and chalk-stained dresses. Yet through every uncertain moment, Fíli remained beside you. He never laughed when you stumbled over royal customs or forgot titles during formal dinners. Instead, he quietly squeezed your hand beneath the table and whispered reassuring things that made you smile despite yourself. “You are doing wonderfully,” he would murmur while the court spoke around you. “And for the record, half of them are far more frightened of you than you are of them.” You nearly choked trying not to laugh the first time he said it.
Slowly, Erebor began to feel warmer. Some mornings you would wake to find books left outside your chambers because Fíli remembered you once mentioned missing your classroom. Other times he would drag you away from suffocating royal meetings just to walk with him through the sunlit halls where waterfalls gleamed against the stone. He loved showing you the mountain as though seeing it through your eyes made it new again. One evening, after an especially difficult day where you admitted tearfully that you still felt out of place, Fíli brought you to one of Erebor’s quiet balconies overlooking the kingdom below. Lanterns glittered in the distance like stars scattered through the mountain, and warm wind tugged gently at your hair.
“You know,” he said softly, leaning beside you against the stone railing, “when I first met you in Laketown, I thought you were the bravest person I had ever seen.” You looked down shyly. “I was terrified most of the time.” “So was I,” he admitted with a grin.
“I simply hid it better.”
His expression softened after a moment, blue eyes impossibly tender as he turned toward you fully. “You survived losing everything, and still you continue to be kind. Do you know how extraordinary that is?” Emotion tightened painfully in your chest, and before you could answer, he reached up and brushed his fingers delicately against your cheek. “You belong here,” he whispered. “With me.”
You kissed him then, softly at first, hesitant and warm beneath the golden mountain light. Fíli smiled against your lips immediately, one hand sliding carefully around your waist while the other cradled your face like something sacred. The kiss deepened slowly, sweet and lingering, carrying months of unspoken affection within it. When you finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, he rested his forehead against yours exactly as he had on the burning docks months before. “There you are,” he murmured fondly, as though he had been waiting for this all along.
After that, the mountain truly became home.
At night, Fíli often held you close beside the fire while you read aloud from old storybooks you had collected for the children now living safely within Erebor’s halls. Sometimes he would braid your hair absentmindedly while listening, his chin resting on your shoulder and his laughter rumbling warmly against your back whenever you grew too dramatic with the voices. And every so often, when you woke from dreams of fire and smoke and loss, he would pull you gently against his chest and whisper the same words he had spoken to you in Laketown while the world burned around you.
“I’ve got you.”
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Prompts: 2) “If things get bad run, just run.” & 9) “I’m sorry, guess I’m blind”
Warnings: Injury
A/n: the prompt list has change since this was requested since I had lost the old one so it may have not been these prompts but I hope you like it
A/n pt 2: This was requested in 21 and I’m so sorry that I lost my will to write around this time so I have 3 requested imagines that will finally get done because I feel like writing some again, but I will probably not open request yet until I’m sure.
-----------
It felt it had been a long while since the company had been in Rivendell and in such comfort that you were glad Gandalf seemed to know some place for safe passing. The orcs had made this journey even more dangerous than you expected, but it had brought you closer to Kili and well all of the company. Kili however is who you stuck to the most, every time a fight came about he was there be your side to help and you his. However between goblin town then the constant orc attacks everyone was growing exhausted and agitated with themselves along with one another. A house to rest seemed perfect.
So as the company was led to the house Gandalf spoke of no one expected to have to run from a bear.
“What is that?” Ori asked to Gandalf after everyone managed to close the door on the bear.
“That is our host.” Gandalf answered calmly though it sounded more hazardously.
He went on to give the host’s name then some information on him, to which a few of the dwarfs felt disturbed by. You however didn’t mind about your host as long as it meant you could rest and recover. So who should care if Gandalf had led all of you to a home, a home whose host had already chased you through the door since it was nonetheless a place to sleep in comfort, you couldn’t help but thank him for it.
You walked away from the door to find a perfect sleeping spot for the night. You happily sat down already feeling a small weight off your shoulders. Kili soon followed sitting down next to you.
“(Y/n) when did you get that cut?” Kili asked looking at the cut just below your shoulder.
“During that last orc attack before we hid in the cluster of rocks.” You told him. “I had forgotten about it with all the running.” You admitted as he ripped some cloth so that he could bandage the cut.
“We’ll find you some water to clean it tomorrow. It has to hurt. How could you forget, even with all that running? Surely you’ve seen it even when you were running.” He went on as he finished tying the cloth.
“I’m sorry, guess I’m blind when I’m trying to run for my life.” You responded slightly joking however the looking in Kili’s eyes seemed to have more worry than light heartedness. “Don’t worry I’ll be fine, I’ve had worse cuts than this just from learning how to use my sword.” You reassured him.
“How bad were you to somehow slash yourself?” He questioned, a slight smirk rose in the conner of his mouth.
“It was horrible, though I am amazing now right?” You asked proudly.
“Yes certainty so.” He answered smiling.
“All right, now get some sleep. All of you. You’ll be safe here tonight.” Gandalf spoke up hearing no one complained since everyone was exhausted.
You and Kili both followed orders and laid down for so well needed rest, however in the hour to come as your eyes finally seemed to allow you to drift off Kili who seemed to still be awake thought now was the time to come to you about his worries he had thought over since your earlier comment.
“(Y/n)...” He spoke and even with your eyes about closed and facing away from him you knew he was looking at you, probably with a more serious face than you’ve seen in the past few days.
“Yes Kili, what is it?” You asked opening up your eyes and turning to look at him.
“I’m serious in what I’m about to say (y/n) and it’s important that you listen.” He spoke now scooting closer to you. “I worry that we will face a more danger as we reach Erebor in the coming days.” He stated.
“Kili, we have already faced a lot. Way more than we anticipated when we left from the Shire. So what are you getting at?” You questioned.
He took ahold of your hand, “I want you to know if things get bad run, just run. Don’t look back or stop or try to fight back, promise me.” He requested.
“I can’t promise that.” You answered. “I wouldn’t leave you behind to fight alone, just as I know you wouldn’t leave me to fight alone. I wouldn’t run after pledging to help all of you reclaim the mountain knowing it may take my life. I will fight to the death if it takes that. That is what we all agreed. I will stay by your side and fight for you and with you.” You proclaimed as he released your hand, reminding him of how you felt not just for the company as a whole but for him as well.
“Fighting with us and for us is okay, but if it gets worse or becomes too much, to over powering; I want you safe.” He stated.
“I understand, but if you wish that of me I wish it of you as well.” You requested placing you hand on his cheek.
“I will, I promise.” He answered softly.
“Now rest well, you need sleep too.” You stated pulling a piece of hay from his hair near his eye. “Be mindful not to poke an eye out though.” You chuckled.
“You as well.” He returned with a chuckle of his own before you closed your eyes for the first relaxing rest in weeks.
Prompt used: “(y/n) is just keeps pushing me away…” “Quit making it sound like I’m trying to get rid of you!”
Warnings: jealousy, talks of wine
A/n: Aahh free range writing! It gets dangerous with the thoughts in my head!!! I saw a prompt on Pinterest and it gave the idea of that “quit telling everyone i’m dead” line from brother bear and so yea :D
P.s. remember I have one particular rule … no deaths unless asked
———
Everyone was sitting around the table laughing and eating. The battle had been over for months and everyone was working to make Erebor feel lively again. It had been a long journey with a war no one had planed on, but here all of you were fully recovered and greeting new faces of dwarves returning everyday still. You had been helping the people in Dale rebuild as well since the arrival of other dwarves were coming.
“Shall I grab another bottle of wine?” You asked everyone, getting up from seat beside Fili; as you already knew the answer.
Walking into the next room over felt no different than being in the room with everyone else since they were all loud talking and laughing away. That’s when you heard Fili really speak up.
“Everyone I have a serious problem.” He said causing the table to fall quiet.
“What kind of problem is it?” Bilbo asked curiously.
“(Y/n) keeps pushing me away…” He told them sadly.
“Quit making it sound like I’m trying to get rid of you!” You yelled interrupting him from the other room as you finished getting the wine. “Don’t take him seriously! I only pushed you away so I could have some space!” You stated as you reentered the room and saw a smile on his face.
“You had us worried laddie.“ Dwalin stated as everyone seemed to relax.
“He’s been a little disheartened that I’ve been at Dale lately I think.” You told everyone as you handed Thorin the wine.
“More like jealous.” Kili pointed out causing the smile on Fili’s face fade into a look of disbelief that Kili would say such a thing.
“Have not!” He countered statement, but it caused a few laughs of disagreement.
“Just the other day I heard you ask, ‘Why does (y/n) go to Dale when I’m working here?’” Kili mocked his brother.
“I heard, “they better not try to keep (y/n) to themselves or they will have to face me.’” Bofur added on to what Kili had said.
You couldn’t help but look at Fili as you sat back down beside him. His face red from embarrassment, but you were loving this moment of payback from him trying to make you feel guilty over just some personal space.
“So you worry I will leave you forever to stay right over in Dale?” You questioned almost confused.
“I just want you here with me. Is that wrong to want?” He confessed looking at you.
“No it’s not wrong, but…” You trailed off, “you do realize I’m only helping them right? I mean why would I not come back to you? I am your (wife/husband/partner).” You reminded him with a smile on your face.
"I know, but I feel I do not see you during the day as much as I would like." He admitted to you.
"Then I'll comeback even earlier tomorrow and we can spend the whole evening together!" You exclaimed with a smile.
"Why not go at all? We could have the whole day." He told you.
"You have a duty as the prince to help lead the rebuilt. Do not forget." Thorin chimed in reminding him his princely duties came first.
Honestly the two of you had forgotten everyone was still around the two of you. Luckily most had started back conversations of their own, not minding the two of you.
"Okay, fine. Earlier will be fine." He said to you since Thorin had made it clear he could not take a break from his duty.
"I will make it my mission to race back here so we can have all the time we want to do whatever we want." You told him.
He smiled, feeling for the first time since everything ended that he was finally going to have time with you without the bother of others or you both feeling exhausted and overwhelmed.
You both would make sure to spend whatever time you had with each other as the kingdoms around started to develop and trade began again. It would seem like it would become a comfortable life there in the Lonely Mountain with halls of laughter and celebrations.
------
Well I think it turned out a little different than expected, but I never write with a full plan anyway! I hope y'all like it though!
Request are open so feel free to ask! Just make sure to checkout the rule in my bio!
I heard there were some Egg-Head lovin bitches ‘round her.
It is me. I’m bitches.
Here’s some random Solas headcanons because I want to. Chances are some will disagree but I don’t care.
These are set around the DA:I era, not DA:V. I’ll get to that later.
As a disclaimer tho: Yes, I have a Lavellan Inquisitor named Winter, but this headcanon list ain’t about her. Just a general romance Reader Insert because I care about your feelings more than mine lol I might be brave and post stuff about Winter later who knows
✨ Enjoy, my fellow Hard Boiled Egg lovers ✨
-He’s the type to always be looking at you. Eye’s latched on to wherever you are
-Now when I say this I don’t mean in a creepy way, relax
-I mean this in a fascination way. In an adoration way. In a “that’s the center of my universe" way
-Because you are.
-Vivienne said the same thing, ya know? The way the both of you have eyes that linger over one another?
-Quite frankly everyone saw the change in his demeanor as time went on, but no one saw the change more than you
-No one saw the sweet fingertips that caressed against your jaw in the dead of night hiding away in the rotunda
-No one saw the times on missions, wandering the Frostback Basin with pinkies linked in such a subtle but intimate way
-He is obsessed with your hair
-NO, not because he doesn’t have any lmfao
-Because it’s soft and smells heavenly
-Because it reminds him of peace as he absentmindedly braids it, caresses it, runs his slim fingers through the strands
-He’s actually very good. Which can’t be a surprise I mean be fuckin fr right now
-Sometimes when he styles it you leave it as it is, and you best believe you get a bunch of compliments
-Most of which are from Dorian
-Solas loves to surprise you
-Stolen kisses out of no where when you’re in the middle of instruction
-Can’t he SEE YOU ARE TRYING TO FOCUS?
-He finds himself with that devious smirk on his lips when he thinks about all the ways to fluster you
-No one will notice he seems to have plans, of course. Perhaps Bull.
-He sticks a single flower behind your ear each time you are on the field
-Don’t worry, he brought a flower in preparation when knowing you were going to the damn Western Approach
-None of them amount to how beautiful you are
-He plays the mandolin for you in the nights you can’t sleep
-When the demons are too much and the terror jolts you awake, he is already there
-More often than not, he stays so he can be sure you’re rested
-He takes this time to see your mark. Always tracing it, always healing so that it brings you less discomfort
-Plays in the snow with you when in Haven
-If you ask to keep the lil Nug that followed you around Emerald Graves, he’ll be happy to support
-Even if he hesitates because he knows it will take his place a bit . Taking some of your attention and being the thing you cuddle with at night
-The cute grin you gave is too much to ignore though - his heart is soft with you
-His heart belongs to you
Fun side note, I played DA 2 more than any other game of the Dragon Age series. I loved it so much. The prompt wasn't hit much but I think it works. :3
Prompt: Hyperventilating
Paring: Fenris X Reader/Hawke
Warnings: No pronouns or descriptions used for Reader/Hawke
Masterlist
"Hawke?"
You couldn't get the image out of your head. The image of Mother like that. Turned into that abomination by Quentin.
"Hawke!"
I failed them. I failed mother. I failed Bethany. I failed Carver. I failed. I failed. I FAILED.
You didn't even realize how fast you were breathing, how harsh each gasp of air was being ripped from you. How your hands shook as you gripped the mantle of the fireplace. How your knuckles were white from how tightly your nails dug into the stone.
You almost didn't hear him. Fenris' voice cutting through the screaming in your head. How long had you been hiding here in your home? Did Varric send him?
Your head jerked up as he grabbed your shoulders, turning you away from the fire and forcing your eyes to meet his. Oh. You must be a sight. Unkept and unhinged as you were sure you seemed to him. The mighty Hawke, hero of Kirkwall… failure to their family.
"Hawke. Breathe. You must breathe." His words — they seemed to cut through the fog in your mind — and allowing you to finally take the first deep breath in you didn't know how long. Your body trembled as you looked up at him, a ragged gasp escaping you as you reached forward and gripped his arms. You felt unsteady, weak, as if you were being crushed. His brow furrowed, a small frown on his face as he slowly forced you to lower yourself onto the ground.
No words were exchanged between you, instead he simply held you. Held you as your shoulders shook and tears welled up in your eyes; despite his aversion to being touched he let you press your face into the crook of his neck. He didn't know what to say— what does one say to a hero who failed to protect those closest to them? But he was here. He would be right here for you. He would hold you through it.
Everyone needs a Cullen to remind them to sleep and eat. Now, he probably also forgets but let's just forget about that lol.
Prompt: Out of Juice
Paring: Cullen X Reader/Inquisitor
Warnings: No descriptions or pronouns used for Reader/Inquisitor, mentioning of skipping meals/sleeping, Nicknames used (Inquisitor)
Masterlist
There was so much to do. Always something more to do.
You couldn't remember the last time you properly slept. Couldn't remember the last time you had more than a passing drink or bite of food. There was too much to do. The Inquisition needed you. You didn't have time to waste. Time to rest.
You stood in the war room, listening to Leliana and nodding your head at her report. It was hard to focus today. Your head felt like it was full of cotton fluff. The end of the report didn't come soon enough in your opinion, your hands resting on the edge of the table as you heard footsteps leaving the room. You closed your eyes for a moment, just a brief moment.
"Inquisitor?" You could hear his voice. Cullen's voice. His confusion was evident as you could hear his footsteps approaching your side, his warm hand resting on your upper back. "Are you alright?" You opened your mouth to say something but it never came — your knees giving you under you.
"Inquisitor!" You felt him grab you before you hit the floor; you were grateful honestly, if you had hit your head on the war table you would never hear the end of it. He slowly lowered you to the floor, keeping his arm around you as he sat beside you.
"Breathe. Rest for a moment. You look… ghastly." You tried to give him a smile, slowly opening your eyes and looking up at him— though by the grimace he gave you, you don't think you succeeded.
"'m fine." A soft huff escaped him, shaking his head at you.
"Forgive me if I don't believe you, Inquisitor." He frowned and gently touched your forehead, most likely testing for a fever. "When was the last time you ate or slept?" Now it was your turn to grimace. You were in for lecture now.
"Um… Do I have to answer that?" His frown deepened but he helped you to your feet now.
"You are going straight to your quarters and resting. I will bring you something to eat. No arguments or I will have to bring back up in the form of Leliana and Josephine." You gave him a weak grin, knowing you would really prefer the single him to the three of them.
"Fine. Fine." Your agreement seemed to placate him — for the time being at least— before he took a grip on your upper arm and led you out of the war room. The walk up the (many, many) stairs to your quarters was quiet, Cullen not being one for idle chit-chat and you being too tired to make it yourself. By the time you had made it back to your door if it was not for Cullen you would have already been crawling on your knees. Cullen must have sensed your exhaustion, his hand a constant steady presence as he pushed open your door.
"Rest. I'll be back." His voice was soft, his eyes watching you as you practically collapsed onto your bed. He waited for a noise of confirmation before nodding his head and closing the door behind him as he walked out of the room.
Just a few minutes couldn't hurt, right?
Your eyes were so heavy. So heavy.
Cullen returned not half an hour later, carrying a small tray with just some soup and bread. He didn't know exactly what you would prefer but if you've been skipping meals then soup and bread was a good place to start.
He gave a soft knock upon the door but received no response. He frowned before he slowly opened the door, glancing about the room. He had half expected to see you at your desk, ignoring his order of rest. Instead he saw you fast asleep, sprawled out on your bed. His eyes softened as he walked over to your side, setting the tray down on the small end table before sitting down on the edge of your bed.
You must have been exhausted… how long had you been going without sleep?
He sighed softly, reaching forward and adjusting the blanket to wrap around you. You deserved this. To rest. And he could at least make sure you can have this moment.
This is cute. Well, it's cute to me. Let Varric take care of the people he loves.
Prompt: Bandages
Paring: Varric X Reader/Hawke
Warnings: Nickname (chuckles, blondie), no descriptions/pronouns used for reader/hawke, injury mention
Masterlist
"Careful, Chuckles. Don't let Blondie see you with those bandages." Your head snapped up, seeing a certain dwarf leaning against the doorway with that grin on his face.
"Varric." You didn't let go of the bandages you had been wrapping around your arm, watching as he walked over to you. It had been a small injury. Well, you considered it small. Anders would probably disagree. Varric didn't ask, he simply reached forward and gently took the bandages out of your hands before he started to wrap your arm himself.
He didn't feel the need to fill the silence between you two, and you didn't feel the need either. Being like this, just sitting with him, was comfortable. He finished tying the bandage around your arm, giving you a slight nod of his head.
"Feeling alright, Chuckles?" You smiled and nodded you head, turning your arm.
"Right as rain. Thank you." He made a dismissive noise, waving his hand.
"Don't mention it. Come on. Drinks on me this time."
This ending sucks but I couldn't think of a better ending at this time. Maybe later.
Prompt: Tortured
Paring: Lucanis X Reader/Rook X Spite
Warnings: No physical description or pronouns used for reader/rook, descriptions of blood and injuries, ambiguous ending
Masterlist
Rook. They had to find Rook.
It was supposed to be an easy mission. You getting captured was never part of the plan. But it took one second — one second — for you to suddenly be gone. They had you. They had you and were gone in the wind.
Weeks. It had taken weeks for them to find you. Weeks of not knowing where you were or what they were doing to you. But they had found where they had been hiding. Been hiding you.
Lucanis rushed through the darkened hallways, Spite a constant growl in the back of his head. Spite had been unruly and unsettled the entire time you had been gone. A never ending roar. Lucanis hoped that when they found you the demon in his head would finally settle.
The rest of his companions were not far behind him, he could hear their footsteps falling against the stone floor in even beats. They came to a branch in the hall, Lucanis motioning for them to go right while he went left. The stone hall was darker this way, less doors. It ended in a larger door, something in him telling him to open it.
The doorknob turned without a single sound, pushing it open to find the room blanketed in darkness with you chained to the back wall. Your hands were forced above your head while you were on your knees, limply leaning forward. Spite roared in his head while Lucanis could smell the sweet copper of blood that he knew too well. Lucanis froze, his mind slowly realizing that is was you. It was you, gashes and dried blood coating your skin. He whispered your name but you didn't respond. For a moment he was afraid that he was too late, but you let out a shuttering breath. A sign you were still in fact alive.
Lucanis rushed forward — breaking the chains with a satisfying clash — catching your limp body in his arms. You looked so thin, felt cold. He needed to get you out of here. Now.
Rook. Out. NOW.
He could hear Spite screaming in his mind as he carried you out, determined to get you somewhere safe.
This prompt is barely touched but I liked the idea as a whole lol. I bet Iron bull is a damn heater. That's why he doesn't wear a shirt. :3
Prompt: Falling
Paring: Iron Bull X Reader/Inquisitor
Warnings:Blood mention, Nicknames (boss), no physical descriptions or pronouns used for the reader/Inquisitor
Masterlist
Cold. It was so cold. You didn't know how long you had been trudging through the snow. Everything hurt. You could feel the warmth of your blood seeping through the wound at your side that you feebly tried to stop with your trembling hand.
Corypheus. Corypheus had attacked Haven. You had fought him. Did you win? Everything was so blurry now. How many got out? You hope they had all gotten out. Another ragged breath escaped your cracked lips as you continued to take steps through the snow, each step harder than the last.
What was that? In the distance? You swore you could see a glow. A fire? Was it all in your head? Was that a shape? A person? Couldn't be.
With what little strength you had left you had left you put your lips together and let out a shrill whistle. A signal you had agreed on with the advisors, a signal that everyone in the Inquisition knew. Maybe? Maybe they would come?
You weakly smiled, your eyes fluttering closed as your legs suddenly gave out and you could feel yourself falling.
Iron Bull was restless. Everything was in tatters and holding together by worn threads. The Inquisitor was missing — presumed dead— and everyone felt that heaviness. That fear that their last hope for Thedas was lost. So, instead of sitting among the sorrow of what remained of the Inquisition, he stood at the edge of the camp and stared out at the cold, white landscape.
That is when he heard it. A whistle carried on the wind. He knew that whistle. One that he had responded to countless times in the heat of battle.
Boss.
He stepped forward, eyes scanning the snow through the wind and ice when he saw it. Someone stumbling towards camp.
It couldn't be. But… Maybe? He didn't let himself doubt, calling over his shoulder into the camp before rushing forward. He watched as they collapsed into the snow, coming to their side as he watched the snow turning from white to that sickening red around them.
It was them. The Inquisitor. Broken, bleeding, but breathing.
He didn't let himself dwell on it, scooping the Inquisitor up and into his arms before hurrying back into the camp while yelling for every available healer. You were cold. So cold in his arms. But alive. You were alive. You had to stay alive. You just had to.
You woke up, warm and in pain, with a soft groan. You slowly opened your eyes, finding Iron Bull sitting there with his arms leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest. He gave you a small smile, leaning forward.
"Welcome back to the world of the living, Boss." You gave him a weak smile, touching your side and finding bandages wrapped tightly wrapped. He reached forward and put a hand on your shoulder.
"You need to rest, Boss. We got you." You looked up at him. You were tired. So tired.
"Bull…" He shook his head, his hand gently squeezing your shoulder.
"Rest." You couldn't find yourself to argue, nodding your head with a soft sigh. You closed your eyes and let sleep slowly take you as he watched over you. A sentinel against the dark and the cold outside.
stormborns
areudirty
origamiaround
ellievsbear
yousharknotpass
snowghoul
baratheonpilled
