"To judge everyone, and to convict all the ungodly of all the ungodly acts they have done in an ungodly way, and of all the defiant words ungodly sinners have spoken against him."
Summary: Your marriage is haunted by the ghost of the wife who came before you, and the walls of Harding Manor bear witness to your husband's descent into madness.
warnings: Dub-Con, loss of virginity, obsession, unsure if stalking counts if it takes place in your own home, implied chronically ill!reader
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics
♱
You were not Anna.
You were reminded every day from the moment you wed Friedrich Harding and became his missus that you were not Anna. Anna who was perfect and said the right things and walked the right way and was a walking temptation to the man she called her husband. Anna who—even in death—called to Friedrich from beyond and was nearly successful if it were not for strong hands and strong voices keeping the dark-haired man from throwing himself into her coffin with her. Anna who was well on her way to giving your husband a third child.
Anna whose touch still lingered in this home and along these walls and in the long dead flowers that Friedrich refused to throw out.
Anna who haunted you much more than she haunted your new husband.
Illness had not just taken the angelic beauty, but her three children with her, one never even getting the chance to take his first breath. In your solitude, you sometimes thought that you did not know what was worse—their two daughters remaining and forcing you to fill the void the other woman left in multiple lives…or your life as it were as you were forced to give Friedrich a whole new family and reason for existing.
You knew from the moment you became betrothed that you had a heavy vacancy to fill…but it seemed that Friedrich had no intention of you filling it.
“He does not touch me, mother.”
The words were whispered in the quiet home one day, and you looked around, ignoring the feel of the older woman’s gaze in favor of imagining what this house must have been like before the tragedy. You imagined how loud it must have been with two animated little girls running around. You imagined how good Friedrich must have been with them, and thoughts of Anna welcoming him home with a kiss and her arms full made your heart sink.
You were not her.
The advice of your mother went into one ear and out the other. You had long accepted that you were a poor replacement that Friedrich could hardly stand to look at. You were alone on your wedding night and again the night after that and the night after that. You were always alone, and the few glimpses that you got of your husband since the wedding day only proved fruitful in your gazes meeting for a stolen moment…and then he was gone again.
You were always alone, and he was always gone…
Until the morning you would not rise from your bed.
The fever struck you in the night, and by the time morning came you felt weighed down by sand. Any strength you had was used to keep your breathing as even as possible, unable to even muster an attempt to open your eyes and tell your cold husband that you were well. Conversations swirled around your head for what felt like days, and in between the feverish dreams, you caught diagnoses and assurances here and there.
“It is merely a cold,” the doctor told Friedrich. “Her body is fighting it quite well, and she will be like new in a matter of days.”
You recalled agreeing with the assessment, feeling more fatigued than anything else—you’d always been rather sickly—but your peace had been broken for the first time in months. The voice of your husband had reached your ears—so broken and angry and unlike anything you had experienced with him.
“...and how exactly did this come about? She never even leaves the house, for God’s sake.”
You heard the rustle of fabric and heavy steps and an even heavier sigh.
“In a matter of a night, my wife has taken ill, and I am assured that she will recover in no time, but I have heard that before…” his voice shook. “I will not bury another wife—I cannot!”
It all seemed so unlike him, and so you convinced yourself that you merely dreamt it up. The fever was clouding your mind and making you conjure up your innermost desires, namely Friedrich caring for you for more than just a societal duty to bear sons that would carry on his name. You allowed yourself to slip into darkness and dream some more.
A masculine hand in yours, a finger tracing patterns into your stomach through the fabric of the bedding, soft lips brushing along your fingers and facial hair tickling your flesh. Your mind conjured up all sorts of things that simply could not be true, and yet when you fully opened your eyes for the first time in days, you were not alone.
It was not easy to place the look upon Friedrich’s face as he stared down at you, towering over your bed with a smoke in hand and dark circles beneath his eyes. He did not look well himself, and you could not help running your eyes over him, wondering just how much sleep he had gotten this past week. The room was quiet as you two just stared at each other, and just as you parted your lips to inquire about his own health, he was abruptly turning away from you. His voice rang throughout the house as he demanded someone send for the doctor.
It was only hours later that it was professionally confirmed that you were almost as good as new and would probably only have to put up with a light cough for the next day or two. Hearing those words relieved you, and when you looked up at your husband, you could not tell if he shared your relief. You frowned up at him as the doctor poked and prodded at you, wondering, for the first time, just what the dark-haired young man was thinking.
He only stared back.
In fact, he only ever stared these days.
When you were walking through the silent house much like the ghost that haunted your marriage, you could feel the heavy weight of his stare pressing down on you. It was not easy to ignore—nor did you want to—but whenever you turned, no husband was there to meet your gaze. The only sign of his presence was the flutter of a broad shadow passing along the walls. He was much bolder when you found your nose buried in a book, and oftentimes when you lifted your gaze to catch him, he did not shy away.
“Yes?” you would wonder, voice quiet as both uncertainty and unease filled you.
Sometimes he did not answer, merely content to gaze at you, and other times he took his time in responding. He would exhale smoke and it would billow between you, briefly obscuring his features before he swiped his tongue between his lips.
“Supper will be ready within the hour.”
You would nod, and he would make no move to leave, and you would be forced to turn your eyes back to the pages before you…resolving to ignore the silent presence in the doorway that was your husband. You found yourself doing that a lot—resolving to ignore his presence. Otherwise, you would never get anything done.
His gaze clung to you when you ate, the dinner table silent outside of the sound of food and utensils hitting dishes. When your eyes would meet, you would send him a small smile, thinking to yourself that your marriage was just progressing slower than most, but he never returned it. He never smiled at you, only preferring to stare. When you ate, when you read, when you found yourself outside amongst the flowers…even when you slept.
You had never once shared a bed, so it was startling to answer a knock on your door one night, coming face to face with your other half. Your nightdress kissed your feet, and the sleeves tickled your hand, and despite that, Friedrich gazed at you as if you were standing naked before him.
“I only wish to make sure you are well throughout the night.”
You did not know how you felt both relief and disappointment, but you managed.
It took you some time to respond, nodding with a small ‘of course’. You still let out a cough here and there, and you did not miss the way Friedrich’s head would abruptly turn with every heave of your chest. Your marriage may have been cold and strange, but it was obvious that your husband had grown paranoid with the fear of burying a wife for a second time. You imagined that it would not reflect well on him.
…and so you laid beside him and closed your eyes and even in the cover of darkness…
You could feel his gaze.
It unsettled you, and you had half a mind to seek the advice of your mother the next time your parents came for a visit, but she—ever zestful and bold—completely took hold of your train of thought.
“...and when might I expect a grandchild?”
There was a teasing smile on her lips as she regarded you, and you merely sighed before taking a sip of your tea.
“You know my situation, mother,” you murmured, setting your cup aside.
Father was with Friedrich, and you hoped that he was enjoying his company much more than he seemed to his daughter.
“Yes, but that was months ago, and I can tell that things have shifted.”
At that, you frowned, turning to face her.
“Whatever do you mean?”
Your marriage was just as cold as it was in the beginning, only now a strange voyeuristic atmosphere had descended over it. Your husband had gone from ignoring your very presence to shadowing your every footstep in the house. Her light chuckle made you flinch, and she gazed at you as if you were playing some joke on her.
“Darling,” she took a sip of the warm drink. “I saw the way he was looking at you when you welcomed us through those doors.”
Your frown deepened.
“That is the gaze of a man fighting with all of his might to resist his beloved wife.”
Now it was your turn to think she was playing a jest with you, but you had no more time to linger on that for the voices of your father and husband soon filled the house as they made their way inside. You could only swallow as mother stood to welcome father back, slowly rising as your own husband neared you. When you traced his face with your eyes, you noticed the ease upon it, and you felt relieved to see that he and your father got on well. He looked like any normal man alight with the mirth that came from being in the company of other like minded men, and so you disregarded your mother’s words.
As you stepped past him to approach your father, your back felt aflame with the heat of a familiar gaze.
You saw them out and wished them safe travels and your father placed his hand on your cheek before he went, speaking good health over you. While he may have been used to your sickly nature, any instance that required bed confinement for his daughter always worried him. He wanted to leave with the trust that you would be well looked after…and well looked after you were.
“Your father was very transparent with me about your health.”
Friedrich towered over you as you sat at the table, having been unsure where this conversation was heading when he interrupted supper. A small container was in his large hand, and when your gaze lifted from the bottle to his eyes, you swore that you saw him falter, his words momentarily stuck in his throat.
He placed the bottle down before you, his hand remaining on the table, and the scent of him filled your nose.
“I have gotten the doctor to make a tonic for you. You are to take a few drops with your meal once a week… It will keep your strength and health up.”
He only moved again to open it, and despite the fact that you felt it was hardly necessary—having survived so long without it—one look into the eyes of your husband told you that not only could it not hurt, but for his peace of mind, you needed to do this. You two gazed at one another as he held it in his hand, and after some time, you realized what he wanted. Parting your lips for him, you swallowed down the few drops he administered to you, but even after you swallowed the herbal mixture down…Friedrich continued to stand over you.
It was in this moment that you finally started to voice your thoughts, asking him why he stared at you so when his movements completely stumped you.
His thumb found the corner of your mouth, startling you, and it remained there for some time before he brought it to his lips, tasting whatever had been lingering there. His blue eyes—normally so cold and unreadable in your presence—suddenly glinted with a look you could not place. It happened so fast that you would have missed it, but you did not, and the intensity there was enough to make your heart skip a beat.
Friedrich parted from you as if nothing had happened, and you watched him round the table to take his place across from you once again. It took you some time to pick up your utensils again, rejoining him in eating your supper, and now it was your turn to stare at him…unable to forget that shadowy something that passed through those blue eyes.
He was staring again.
The wind howled outside of the window with the storm and flashes of lightning lit up the otherwise dark room from time to time and your chest and shoulders moved evenly as you feigned sleep. You stared at the wall before you, and Friedrich stared at you. If at all possible, he grew more shameless with it, and if you were a normal loving couple just so wrapped up in each other—as you were sure he was with Anna—then some part of you might have found it romantic.
Tantalizing even.
As it were, you were not, and as silly as it seemed…you felt hunted in your own house.
You constantly felt like prey under his ever watchful eye no matter how justified he made it seem. Concern for your health, making sure no food disagreed with you, seeing how fair you slept. The paranoia of losing another wife suffocated you both for different reasons and in different ways, and you felt as if you were moments away from choking. Your mother’s voice crawled through your mind, and words that you had once dismissed now rang through your thoughts like a melody.
The room glowed with another flash of lightning…and you felt the gentle feel of fingers on the side of your face. You sharply inhaled, startled from both the sudden touch and the foreignness of it. His hand rested on your hair, ensuring that he could gaze upon your face no doubt, and when you felt the bed jostle, you closed your eyes. His lips found your tresses, and his hand found your shoulder, and you both heard and felt him breathe you in.
Friedrich’s nose traced the curve of your ear and he descended until his face was buried in the crook of your neck. Despite all of this, your heart remained steady, and you remained still as he gently pressed his lips to your skin and traced patterns through your sleeve. You felt his larger frame shifting closer, and at that—at the feel of him pressed so closely to you to where you could feel every curve and ridge of him—you shuddered.
Yet you still feigned sleep.
“You will never be her,” the words he murmured into your skin had your brows furrowing. “...and I will never let you.”
Contradictory to the words that left his lips, the hand on your arm found its way to your waist, his arm completely circling you and holding you to him. That was how he remained throughout the night, and only when you accepted the permanence of his position, did you finally allow yourself to find sleep.
It was dreamless, and when you woke up, you woke up alone.
You chose to ignore the relief that filled you at that discovery, telling yourself that Friedrich was still grieving. It was an easy answer to his behavior and treatment of you, and yet, you wondered how much longer you had to endure it. You wondered how much longer you would feel watched and shadowed in your own house.
At breakfast, you parted your lips for Friedrich as he gave you a few drops of the tonic, and he watched you eat, and you pretended not to notice. For some time that is. Finally, after a while, you placed your utensils down, and you lifted your gaze to meet his head on. Ever bold, he did not look away, those blue eyes momentarily making you lose your train of thought.
“Why do you stare at me so?”
You finally voiced your concerns with him, and you watched the mustache twitch from the movements of his mouth at your sudden and brazen question. Friedrich looked as if he had never anticipated you asking that of him, but eventually he straightened, pushing his shoulders back as he studied your face.
“I am afraid you will slip away.”
His answer made you blink, eyes widening slightly.
“I fear…” he cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “...like my Anna, you will slip from my grasp.”
Your lips parted at the unexpected answer, and you were unsure of how to respond. Friedrich took a deep breath before digging into his own breakfast, those blue eyes finally refusing to meet yours.
“I will not allow you to become her…lost to me too.”
It was in that moment that you realized you completely misconstrued his words from the previous night, and you stared at the man before you who was so desperate and driven to uncomfortable lengths to ensure he did not bury another wife. Some part of you felt awful for feeling so put off by his uncanny behavior…but some other part of you recognized that your husband was slowly being pushed to madness.
If he were not so already.
“She vexes me so…”
Those were the words you overheard a week later, your house hosting a small handful of people that Friedrich knew. The wives took to you well despite your quiet disposition, and when they proposed an evening walk along the beach, you went in search of your husband to inform him. When you found him, he was in the company of three other men, the smell of tobacco reached you first and then his words followed.
You froze the moment you realized it was you he was referring to.
“She is so quiet and frail…like a mouse” there were a few chuckles. “...and I so desire to hear her squeak.”
You felt yourself take a step back.
“...but it is because she is so fragile that I cannot bring myself to touch her…” you heard Friedrich inhale. “I fear I would ravage her.”
How was it possible for his words to both terrify and entice you? It was a relief to know that your husband did not balk at the sight of you as you once thought, but you did not hold the same sentiment in confirming you were indeed being hunted in your own house. Friedrich had made no moves to warm you to him and progress this marriage in a way that a normal man would. After all these months, he was still little more than a stranger to you.
A stranger that was increasingly losing himself more and more at the thought of ever losing you.
“...but Friedrich we only just got here.”
You looked to him with a slight frown, the ocean breeze a soothing feeling against your skin. So turned around by his words from the other night, you had completely forgotten all about the beach, returning to the other wives in a bit of a daze, something they happily sat you down and fetched some water for.
With one look at you surrounded and feverish with some water in your hand, Friedrich had cleared the house out immediately, saddening you. You were at the beach, now to make up for it, but you were sure that you had only been here all of ten minutes.
“It is a bit airish out,” he said to you, keeping your hand in place on his arm. “I do not wish to see you fall ill again.”
You struggled to argue with him about your health, understanding both the sensitive nature of the topic and the determination in his eyes to see you back inside the house. Despite what you wanted, you allowed him to guide you away from the water and sand. His hand remained on yours the whole way, and the closer you got to your home, the more your unease grew.
“Perhaps we can try again if the weather is better tomorrow,” you proposed the moment you were inside the warm walls of the house.
Your husband did not answer right away as he removed his coat, and for a moment you feared he never would, but his eyes met yours as he turned to you. He was gentle and meticulous in unbuttoning your own coat, his chest so close to yours as he slowly peeled it off of you. The words that he did not know you heard were on your mind as he looked down his nose at you, and he only answered when your arms were finally free.
“We shall see.”
His tone and his words did not seem to be in agreement, and you were unsurprised when tomorrow came and went and you did not leave the walls of your home. You found enjoyment in your books instead, and like always, you eventually felt goosebumps crawl over your arms as you became the subject of his scrutiny yet again.
Only this time, you were surprised to hear him approach.
“Read to me,” he quietly asked—demanded—of you, and you felt his hand in your hair as he sat down on the couch behind you.
It was an unexpected request, and you were silent for a few moments more as he made himself comfortable behind you. His legs were on either side of you as you relaxed on the floor, the fabric of your dresses and undergarments cushioning your bottom. It took you some time to do as he asked, but once you did, you started to forget that he was even there.
Until his fingers started to move over your scalp and he drew himself closer, his knees in your line of vision now, and his gentle breathing started to accompany the sound of your own voice. You read to him for what felt like hours, both of you only pulled from the moment when the cook informed you that dinner would be ready soon.
Much of your time was spent reading to Friedrich these days, and you wondered if he thought it a sufficient enough distraction to ensure you hardly noticed he never let you out of the house anymore. Your requests to go to the beach grew less and less with every denial and every ‘maybe’ that would just turn into a denial. The day you asked to accompany one of the staff to the market, he visibly blanched, his head shaking as he snarked at you how completely out of the question that was.
You finally spoke up when the monthly visit from your parents did not come to pass.
“I did not think it wise for them to be here,” was his only defense, and you gaped at him.
“...and why not? Why am I the last to know this?”
His hand wrapped around your arm as he pulled you away from the curious eyes and ears of the kitchen staff, guiding you through the house with that long stride of his that almost made it hard to keep up. When he noticed, he slowed down, eventually halting his movements just outside of his study, and when you hesitantly reached for your arm, Friedrich loosened his hold.
You watched him use his free hand to gently brush his fingers over the appendage, looking down at it with a frown before meeting your gaze with a more even stare.
“...because they are always trotting off to God knows where around God knows who, and I will not allow them to bring even so much as a shallow cough into this household.”
You blinked at your husband, understanding dawning on you, and you struggled with a response. You realized now that appeasing his paranoia—not fighting it and letting him have his way—was doing more harm than good. Friedrich was so good at hiding his emotions from you—even the ones you wanted to know about—but in the dimly lit hallway, you could see it clear as day in his eyes.
He was consumed with the fear that you would wind up just like Anna and his children.
Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly reached for his hand, removing it from your arm. You did not break your gaze, wanting him to listen to you loud and clear, and you swallowed down the unease that filled you as you stood under his unwavering gaze.
“Friedrich…” you whispered to him, so unused to the feel of his name on your tongue. “That is no way for me to live a life.”
He pushed his shoulders back at that, and you knew that he was going to argue with you, so you continued.
“You have gotten me a tonic from the doctor…I am the healthiest I have ever been…and I would very much like to see my mother and father.”
His mustache twitched as the corner of his mouth curved upwards at your attempt to put your foot down. The both of you stood there for a lengthy amount of time, just staring at one another, and for the briefest of moments, you thought that Friedrich would see reason. Your hand was still on his, and your husband maneuvered them so that your hand was now in his, and when he stopped closer, you knew then that you were not getting your way.
“Perhaps some other time.”
You knew what that meant as you watched him walk away, and dread began to fill you as the reality of your predicament was truly setting in. Your eyes roamed along the walls, no longer feeling haunted by Anna, but her husband instead. He was haunting you, and she was haunting him, and in his desperation to keep you from suffering the same fate as his previous wife, Friedrich seemed content to keep you behind a gilded cage, a manicured box.
Like a porcelain doll.
Your days were consumed with only him and the house—reading to him, tending to the flowers, picking out patterns for some new drapes or a new rug to be made. It was enough to ignore the obvious for a while, enough to keep your mind off of the prolonged absence of your parents and the unmet desires to see the water and the way Friedrich stared at you like he expected you to crumble at the drop of a hat.
He was driving you nearly mad as he, and perhaps that was why you did it.
The caretaker was new and had not yet learned that Friedrich Harding preferred to keep his new wife locked up like some sickly child. Why would she? You were sure that you would be back home before he returned, but when you entered your home—the sun still at its peak outside—you did not miss the way some of the servants avoided your gaze. Only one approached you, quietly taking your coat as her gaze found the floor.
“Mr. Harding is waiting for you both…”
Your heart sank at her words, and you looked to the caretaker, knowing that you just cost her employment. That had never been your intention, and you walked ahead of her, prepared to plead her case to your husband, but he let her go on the spot before you could get a word in. Everything you said went ignored, every plea and every excuse, and it was only when the staff made themselves conveniently scarce did your proper and mighty well-to-do husband finally…
Break.
“Do you wish to ruin me? Is that it?”
His voice bounced off of the walls, and your lips parted as he stared you down. His eyes were alight with every emotion known to man, and his shoulders heaved with every breath he took. You only just started to shake your head when he spoke again.
“For surely it will be the end of me if I have to say goodbye to another wife,” he angrily whispered, and you took a step back. “I do not ask much of you.”
“I know-.”
“I have not forced you to my bed, I have not demanded any sons or daughters,” he let out a tearful chuckle. “I do not even demand you greet your husband with a kiss when he returns home.”
All of this was true, and yet…
“All I ask is that you remain here.”
He said it so casually, as if he were not asking the world of you to remain prettily seated in a cage. You had never known how to gently broach this subject, understanding the sensitive nature of it, but as you stared into the face of your husband—driven mad with trauma and paranoia—you accepted that there would be no gentle way to do it.
“I am not Anna,” you breathed.
The man before you froze in place as you said her name, and you swallowed.
“I am in good health now,” you licked your lips. “You saw to that…”
You slowly reached for him, and you did not miss the sharp look in his gaze as he followed the movement with his eyes.
“I am not going anywhere, and I implore you to have faith…”
Your words trailed off as the sound of his bitter chuckle reached your ears. Friedrich moved closer to you with no intention of stopping it seemed, and your back hit the wall.
“Faith,” the dark-haired man sneered. “Why would I trust faith to keep you with me when that very same faith failed me before?”
You had no answer for him.
His fingers touched your face, and you looked between his eyes. His chest heaved, and his heavy breathing was the loudest sound in the room. His fingers trailed down the expanse of your neck before his hand moved to rest on the back of it, moving closer.
“You are so frail,” he murmured. “I knew it the moment I laid eyes on you.”
He forced your face closer, and you pressed your hands to his chest. The conflict was evident on his features, a furrow between his brows as he drank you in with those sad blue eyes of his.
“I fear that a change in the wind would rip you from my very arms.”
“Friedrich…” he gave no indication that he was listening to you. “I have not seen my mother and father in months. I know they must worry and… All I ever see are these walls and the staff and my books and you. Do you wish for me to be unhappy?”
He tilted his head.
“Do you wish for me to be alone again?”
“Friedrich, please,” you begged, and he was shaking his head as soon as you said his name.
“I cannot do what you ask of me,” he forced out, eyes becoming glassy.
You pulled at his arm and pushed at his chest, but your husband was a mountain of a man, and it did you no good. The room was filled with both of your voices at once, both of you pleading with the other—you for freedom and he for understanding.
“You do not understand the lengths I go to…”
“I will be driven to madness!”
“...the nights I refuse my own desires,” he tearfully spat.
“So you would have me be your doll then? Placed on a shelf where only you and the staff can see me? To only be looked at like a trinket until the end of my days?”
Your poor choice of words had him freezing, his voice dying in the air as he gazed at you with a stricken look in his eyes. He did not move for a concerning amount of time, and as he stared into your eyes, tears kissing his own, you wondered who he saw, right now.
You or Anna?
The wife he had lost or the one he was scared of losing?
“I cannot bear it,” he choked out, his face pressing into the crook of your neck. “It is an impossible thing to ask of me.”
You said his name, but he felt lost to you, mumbling to himself and kneading at you through the fabric of your dress. When his soft lips pressed against the skin just above your bosom, you tensed. You could feel the wetness from his tears on your flesh, and you said his name again.
In this moment, you were wholly aware of your disadvantage.
“All I do is try to protect you, and all I ask is that you help me…”
“Friedrich.”
He was on his knees, now, burly arms circled around your waist, and blue eyes wide and bright and tearful as he looked up at you.
“Yet you fight me every step of the way.”
“I am not Anna,” you said to him, trying to get him to see reason.
…but he knew exactly who he was talking to.
“...and you will never become her if I can help it.”
You felt his hand slide to your backside, pulling you closer as he buried his face into the fabric of your skirts.
“Night after night…day after day…I fight with myself for fear of hurting you, of doing irreparable damage.”
His arm tightened painfully around you, and you gasped, reaching down to pull at his sleeve.
“...and for what? For a wife who still leaves these walls and puts herself in harm’s way even after her husband begs her not to.”
“I cannot…”
You struggled to breathe, and you no longer just wanted him to let you go…you wished to get away. You both heard and felt him press a lingering kiss to your stomach, his tears wetting the fabric of your dress.
“If I am to risk you in any capacity…then surely it should be for the betterment of us both.”
So focused on trying to take in air, you did not fully register his words and the implication behind them. Your chest was tightening and your stomach was hurting, and your husband was losing his mind, and you did not know how to convince him that he would not lose you too. You pushed further back against the wall in an effort to relieve some of the painful pressure when you could suddenly breathe again.
You sharply inhaled…and the sound of tearing fabric reached your ears.
The pressure around your abdomen was loosening in more ways than one, and when you looked down, Friedrich had his hands quite literally inside of your dress. It was one that your mother had commissioned for you, but you could not find it in yourself to mourn the loss of the beautiful gown. You were more focused on your husband’s sudden animalistic nature.
You said his name, pushing at his hands, but you were no match for his strength.
“I cannot stop,” you heard him murmur, making your blood run cold. “Do not dare ask me to stop.”
With his hand at your back under the fabric, it was not long before you quite literally felt the fabric and strings of your corset being pulled taut against your flesh before ripping and popping completely. A panic seized you as you fought to get away from Friedrich, and he fought to rid you of the mountain of layers that covered you.
“Friedrich,” you gasped, pushing at his face and head, but with his arms around you in a vice-like grip, you had nowhere to go.
You pushed one foot forward, a difficult feat with a grown man attached to you, and your husband did not like that. He pulled at your dress some more—pulling down—and the action had you careening forward as you attempted to get away from him at the same time. With the floor fast approaching, you were prepared to crawl away from him, but Friedrich was much quicker on his feet than you.
Arms that were now increasingly familiar to you wrapped around your waist, catching you midfall, and Friedrich’s chest was to your back as he stood and brought you with him. You could feel his facial hair tickling your skin as he leaned in, deeply inhaling and kneading his fingers just under your chest.
“I cannot…”
His words trailed off as he forced you to face him, pink lips parted and blue eyes glazed over. Every step back from him was followed, and his nose touched yours while one hand found a home on your cheek. His lips touched yours for half a second before you pulled away, and he let you, frowning at you as if you confounded him.
She vexes me so.
You recalled those words that were not meant for your ears.
“I cannot…” his frown deepened. “I cannot resist you any longer.”
He finally stole a kiss from you, his lips covering yours in a way that no one ever had before. The kiss at your wedding was sweet—chaste even—but this was nothing of the sort. Friedrich deeply inhaled your every breath and pawed at you and pulled you closer if at all possible. The kiss made your head spin, and every time you attempted to move your head back, he followed. It was hard to breathe with his lips on yours.
You realized that what you felt against the back of your thighs was the bed, but only too late and when Friedrich’s hands tightened on the neckline of your dress. His lips sought out the flesh of your throat as he pulled and ripped it open completely. His blunt nails softly dragged against your skin as he yanked it down, moving closer, and with nowhere else to go, you felt yourself backed into a corner.
Your resistance was clear, and your husband wrapped an arm around your waist, briefly lifting you before dropping you on the soft surface. His large frame found solace between your legs, and you felt irreversibly trapped. He towered over you and his mouth held yours captive and his arms did not allow you anywhere to go.
You gasped his name into his mouth, a protest in your tone.
“I no longer have the strength to keep myself from you,” he murmured into the kiss. “Do not ask me to for I cannot do it.”
His hand slithered between your legs like a serpent, and you squirmed in a way you never had before. You had never even touched yourself there on lonely nights, recalling how unclean and unchaste it was said to be, but Friedrich was your husband. Surely that made it okay…but then why did it not feel okay in your chest? Perhaps it was because he scared you and isolated you and kept you locked away like some prized possession.
You felt yourself growing wet beneath his touch, and a low hum climbed from his throat as you laid your hand on his arm. When a finger slid into you, you dug your nails into his arm. The feel had you blinking, and when he added another, your eyes widened. A third had you gasping and him cursing—something you rarely heard. You felt stretched, and when he moved closer, forcing your legs to part more to accommodate him, you hissed.
“Lie back, my love,” he murmured to you. “It will feel much better.”
You refused to, one hand on the bed behind you in some weak hope that you could stop this before it went any further. You simply wanted freedom, and pleading with Friedrich for something so simple had ended in him seeking out his own pleasures instead. You could feel yourself dripping around his hand with every thrust of his fingers, and shame filled you.
When you were unable to swallow down a moan, you hid your face.
“There she is,” he slowly whispered, and when his thumb brushed over you in a way that had your arm weakening, he took advantage.
In one fell swoop, you found yourself on your back, your husband on top of you and his fingers still pushing into you. Your ruined dress hung off of you in tatters, and Friedrich tasted whatever visible skin there was. His large frame kept you pinned to the bed, and your eyes rolled and lashes fluttered from the way he moved his fingers and his hand between your thighs. You weakly murmured his name, and beyond that, in the quiet room, you could hear his movements. You could hear the wet sound of it, and more shame filled you, but you were not given time to linger on it.
He sat up on his knees, reaching down with his other hand so that he played you with both. You felt your back arching, and your breathing grew more shallow, and one hand gently massaged your mound while the other continued to push his fingers into your slick walls. He curled them into you over and over, massaging your insides and pressing the pads of his fingers against you.
It was unlike anything you ever felt, and when your stomach tightened—a rope or a coil or something deep within your gut—you let it until it could not any further, and you were suddenly gasping and whimpering in a way that made you sound possessed. You could feel Friedrich’s gaze on you, and when you managed to focus your own on him despite the difficulty, he wore an expression that you were sure you had never seen before.
It made you want to cover yourself and shy away, and when he pulled his fingers out of you—a tinge of red on them—that was exactly what you set out to do.
Feeling hot and confused and unsettled by the man before you, you reached for the covers in an attempt to hide your nakedness, but your husband would not have it. He climbed over you, keeping you pinned between his thighs as he peeled off his light jacket, his tie and shirt and undershirt quick to follow.
You imagined that your wedding night would have been something akin to this, but only without this level of unease and fear and confusion. As it were, your wedding night was nothing like this. You had been alone, convinced of your husband’s lack of care for you, and now almost a year later, you were squirming beneath him and wanting to be as far away as possible from the man who metaphorically locked you in the tower and tossed the key.
“Friedrich,” you choked out, pushing at his chest.
He leaned in and kissed you again, and you felt every bit of him as he forced you out of your garments completely.
The tip of him brushed against your sensitive flesh, and you shuddered beneath him. He would not stop kissing you, tasting the inside of your mouth and inhaling every gasp that escaped. His normally perfect hair was in disarray, and when he reached down between you, his other arm was proactive in holding you tight and in place for him.
The feel of his cock pushing into you almost made you wish for his fingers instead. You thought that you felt stretched before, but it was nothing in comparison to the slow way in which he sheathed himself inside of you. You felt unnaturally full, and it took your breath away. Friedrich groaned from above you, and you felt a shudder crawl up his back as he rested inside of you.
“I tried,” you heard him whisper. “I tried so very hard…but I cannot go another day without having you.”
He slowly pulled his hips back until only the tip of him remained before sinking into you completely. You could not stop the movements of your body, your hips lifting with his as if being carried by a wave, a breathless sigh escaping with every thrust. His bare chest was pressed to yours, and his burly arms kept you right where he wanted you, and you felt yourself slowly forgetting why you had ever resisted him.
“Endless nights of lying awake and knowing you were a mere room away,” Friedrich breathed against your skin. “So close…and so forbidden to me.”
The speed of his hips grew, and your nails dug into his skin, dragging over it as he plunged his cock into you with a vigor you did not know he had. He was always so cold with you, keeping you at arm’s length even when he was touching you. You recalled the feel of his hand on your hair and his fingers on your mouth and a brush against your waist. Always giving in just a little bit more until he no longer had the desire to hold himself back. Always staring and watching and craving.
It was so clear to you, now, and all you could think was that your mother was right…
…and you were a fool.
“I feared I would break you,” he panted, thrusting into you so strongly that the bed beneath you shook. “I still fear that I just might.”
He pushed himself up onto his hands so that he could look down at you, and the dull tender ache had started to subside, replaced by something that far exceeded the pleasure his fingers had given you. Your back arched, and Friedrich wasted no time in dipping his head to wrap his lips around a heaving breast. His tongue swirling around a hardened bud had you reaching up to thread your fingers through his dark locks.
He groaned at the action, and when he lifted his head again, his intense blue gaze sought out yours. You softly moaned every time his hips curved into yours, his cock smoothly sliding between your folds, now and stroking you in a way that momentarily convinced you your freedom was not all that desirable. Your husband did not look away from your eyes again, and it felt overwhelming to be beneath him and staring into his eyes and feel him within you.
One of his hands reached up to touch your cheek, and a frown formed between his brows.
“So fragile… It would take nothing for me to break you, to snuff you right out,” his words made your heart skip a beat. “You test my self control in ways that terrify me.”
His hand traveled to your neck.
“I was right to fear the monster that I would unleash if I ever got my hands on you…”
His fingers danced to the back of your neck, and he gripped the hair at the nape there, slowly and gently forcing your head back. His hips did not relent once, meeting yours again and again, the sound of skin meeting skin reaching your ears among other things that filled you with shame. So much shame.
“For I will never be able to resist you again.”
He leaned in and pressed gentle kisses along the expanse of your throat, his tongue darting out to taste the damp skin, humming at the salty nature the thin sheen of sweat gave it. You whimpered when he reached down with his free hand, fingers brushing against you and circling you as you greedily clenched around his cock.
“If anything happened to you,” he whispered into your neck. “It would be my undoing.”
Tags: modern reader female, isekai, waking up in the hobbit, death, romance, adventure, magic, dwarves, elves, everyone lives AU!, eventual smut
Authors notes: Thank you to those who read my first chapter, sending lots of love ❤️ I plan to update again soon so please be patient ❤️
Chapter 2:
“Y/N..” I opened my eyes seeing a pair of brown eyes. “Kili?” I sat up looking around seeing the dwarves and Gandalf gathering their belongings. “We’re heading out soon. Gandalf wants to speak with you before we leave.” I nodded Kili got up and walked to his brother. I got up to meet Gandalf. He was putting his belongings on his horse. “Gandalf?” He stopped what he was doing and turned towards me. “Ah, my lady i hope you slept well?” I nodded,” I did, thank you. Kili said you wanted to speak with me?” He began to walk back to Bilbos hobbit home and I followed.
“Ah yes, I noticed your clothes are a bit questionable I figured it wouldn’t hurt to give you some clothes.” Gandalf picked up folded clothes. “Here you are my dear. I believe these should work.” I took the clothes, “thank you.” He smiled,” go get changed we’ll be leaving soon.” I nodded and left to the rest room. Closing the door behind me I did my business and looked at the clothes Gandalf gave me. A plain white tank top, with a plain white long sleeve button down shirt, and a pair of black pants. “I wonder where he got these?” I took off my button down work shirt and looked in the mirror where I was stabbed still seeing nothing. I touch the spot for a moment only to stop myself deciding to stop thinking about it and move on. I got dressed the way I liked and threw my work clothes away. I looked at myself and smiled. I walked back outside seeing everyone. I noticed that the stuff Gandalf got me yesterday wasn’t where I last left them I walked to Gandalf. “Gandalf, where’s the stuff you got me yesterday?”
“Oh they’re on the ponies don’t worry about them I had they taken care of.” I nodded. “Are we ready?” I placed my hands on my hips. “We are. By the way Y/N do you know how to ride a horse? Or a pony?” I blinked, “ oh um, no I don’t, but I can walk! I can walk for miles.” I fumble my words and didn’t realize that Fili was behind me. I felt hands pick me up and place me on a pony. I immediately place my arms around the body in front of me, my eyes were glued shut. The person in front of me smelled woodsy, and of a bonfire. “Don’t be afraid Y/N, I will not ride too fast.” I recognized the voice in front of me. I blushed realizing that it was Kili I was holding onto. I kept my face hidden behind Kili’s back not wanting to show the dwarves my blushing face. After I felt the pony move for a good moment I removed my face and opened my eyes. I held onto Kili and watched the village grow smaller by the minute. The dwarves in the meantime told stories and talked amongst each other. I found peace in this moment.
~~~~~~
Soon enough we were headed towards the end of the Shire. “Didn’t I say it? Waste of time.” I heard one of the dwarves say. “That’s true enough.” Another said. “Use a hobbit. Whose idea was it anyway?” I smiled at how wrong they are, Bilbo has courage.
“Wait!” We all heard Bilbos voice ring from behind us. “Wait!!” We heard again. I felt the pony stop and I turned to see Bilbo running past us toward Thorin and Gandalf who were ahead. Bilbo had the contract in his hand raising it up. “ I signed it.” Bilbo and I locked eyes and I smiled. He gave me a small nod and handed the contract to Balin. Balin looked at the contract and nodded. “Everything appears to be in order. Welcome, master Baggins to the company of Thorin Oakenshield.” Balin gave Bilbo a wink and a few of the dwarves lightly cheer. “Give him a pony.” Thorin orders. “No, no. No, that won’t be necessary. Thank you I’m sure I can keep up on foot.” We started to move again. “I-I’ve done my fair share of walking holiday’s, you know.” Bilbo went on to try to convince the dwarves that he didn’t need a pony. Bilbo started to walk but what he didn’t know was that two dwarves had other plans. “Even gotten as far as Frogmorth once.” He was then lifted into the air and onto a pony. I chuckled at Bilbo. Once he got used to the pony we continued on with our journey. I watched as the trees went by. “Are you still comfortable Y/N?” I jumped a bit at Kili’s voice. “Oh, yes, I’m as comfortable as I can be.”
“You really never ridden a horse before?” I shook my head. “No, where I come from there isn’t really a need to ride horses. Yes people still do but it isn’t really needed.”
“Where your from?” Kili asked confused. “Where in middle earth are you located.” I heard Gandalf cough from behind me. “Shit. I totally forgot that they all don’t know I don’t come from this world.”
“Oh um-“
“Come on, Nori! Pay up!” I heard Oin yelled and a bag of coins was thrown at him. “Thanks lad.” Then more bags of coins were thrown around. “Here Ki.” Fili tossed his promised coin to Kili. Kili was distracted by his sum of coin he had caught, he hadn’t realize I didn’t answer his question. “What’s that about?” I heard Bilbo asked Gandalf. “Oh, they took wagers on whether or not you’d turn up. Most of them bet that you wouldn’t.”
“And what did you think?” Bilbo asked his friend. “Well..” and at that moment a bag of coins was tossed to Gandalf. “My dear fellow, I never doubted you for a second.” Gandalf then put his coins away. I then heard a sneeze. “Ah. It’s horse hair. Having a reaction. Oh.” I remembered this scene from the movie. “No. Wait. Wait! Stop!” A horse neighs as we all come to a stop. “ Stop! We have to turn around!” All of Thorins company looked at bilbo. If I knew I was end in the hobbit I would have brought a napkin or Kleenex on me but all I had is packed away in a bag which I believe is on Fili’s pony. “What on earth is the matter?” Gandalf asked Bilbo. “I forgot my handkerchief.”
“Here. Use this.” I heard a small tear of clothing. “Move on.” Thorin called out and we began moving again.
~~~~~~~
“We’ll stop here for the night.” Thorin stopped his pony and so did all of us. I waited for Kili to get off first once he was one his feet he helped me down but as soon as my feet hit the ground my knees buckled. I fell forward into Kili’s chest I felt his hands on my shoulders to help steady me. I felt my face get warm, I pulled back once I got my footing. “I’m sorry.” He dropped his hands from my shoulders, I moved to make sure to give him space. “It’s alright Y/N. Are you okay now?” I nodded. “Yes, thank you Kili.” He smiled and sent me a wink. I rolled my eyes playfully at him. “Kili, go help Fili get firewood.” Thorin ordered Kili. “Yes uncle.” After Kili left I went to help the others cook our meal for the night.
Once the food was made I took my food and walked little away from the dwarves. I eventually found a log lying on its side. I took a seat and ate my food in silence while watching the sun set on the horizon. “What’re you doing all the way over here?” I jumped and looked behind me seeing Fili and Kili with their food and 3 cups. “Oh I just wanted to watch the sunset.” They walked over to me. “Do you mind if we joined you?” I shook my head. “Of course please.” I offered some room to them on the log I was sitting on. They took a seat on the log, each brother sitting beside me making me sit in the middle, not that I minded…
“I brought you a cup of ale.” Kili handed me the cup. “Thank you.” I took a sip feeling the alcohol burn my throat. I wince a bit at the feeling. “Not to your liking?” Fili asked as I took another sip. “No, no it’s okay.” I coughed a bit and they chuckled a bit. “Okay maybe I lied it’s a bit bitter than what I normally drink.” I put my cup down so I could continue to eat the rest of my meal. “Is your ale that different from ours?” Kili asked
“Eh, depends on where you get it I guess. I don’t drink too often.” I shrugged. “Oh I just remembered you didn’t answer me from before.” Kili’s face lit up, as I silently cussed myself for letting myself slip. “Oh yes, um.. I can’t really tell you.” I prepared myself for more questions. “What why?” Fili asked. “It’s kind of confusing and complicated and very crazy. Crazy like what happened to me should’ve been impossible and I should be in a psychiatric hospital for it but here I am.” They both just look at me with confused looks which just cause me to sigh. “It’s okay I don’t expect you both to understand.” I looked down at my food. I felt a hand on my shoulder. “We can try to understand.” I looked at Fili his blue eyes felt safe and warm. I took a deep breath, “I don’t come from middle earth. I came from a world where there’s no elves, no wizards, or hobbits. Where I came, from this place is fictional.. the fact that I’m here it should be impossible. You both look like the actors from The Hobbit which is a movie by the way. That’s why Gandalf said that I was his assistant. I know how this story ends. I just want to help you reclaim your home.” I stopped my rumbling. “Sorry that was a lot you can’t tell anyone what I told you. Gandalf and I didn’t really exactly plan this that great.” I mutter the last bit to myself mostly. “No, no you’re okay Y/N in a sense you’re like us.” I look at Kili and Fili confusingly. “Listen Y/N I don’t know if you’ll ever get back home but you’re welcome at Erebor. Once we take back our home you can start anew.” I smiled at what Kili said. “Really?” They both nodded. “Okay.” They both smiled as well. “Now let’s finish our dinner and get our rest we still have a long journey ahead of us.” Fili took a spoon full of food and put it in his mouth.
Once we were finished the three of us walked back to the rest of the group. I offered to clean Fili and Kili’s dishes while Thorin had them go scout around to make sure our camp is safe for the night. I noticed my belongings were with Fili and Kili’s belongings. I laid my stuff down and fell asleep.
Pairings: Kili x Reader slight Fili x Reader if you squint lol
Tags: modern reader female, isekai, waking up in the hobbit, death, romance, adventure, magic, dwarves, elves, everyone lives AU!, eventual smut,
Author notes: hi this is my first time writing for the hobbit hopefully someone will like it ❤️ please be kind in the comments and don’t be afraid to message me any questions ❤️
When I opened my eyes I saw a beautiful blue sky and the sun shining bright there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I sat up suddenly there was a pain in my stomach I winced and hissed. I lifted my shirt to look for any injury and didn’t find any. Then I realized the pain went away, I blinked a few times and thought back about my day and how I got here. The day went on as usual woke up spent some time to myself, which includes coffee and some gaming. Got ready for work, shower, brushed teeth, a pair of jeans and a button down shirt, a pair of shoes which were dirty from working in them. I drove to work, clocked in, put my Home Depot apron on, got stabbed by some crazed customer, clocked out, drove home…wait what? Let me back up a bit. I got stabbed by some crazed customer?? I lifted my shirt up again but didn’t see a stab mark. I huffed and got up. “Did I die? Is this heaven?” I chuckled. “Well I didn’t think I’d end up in heaven.” I looked around but didn’t see a person or angel in sight. I looked for any sign of life and saw smoke a few miles away. “I guess I’ll start there.” I walked towards where the smoke was residing. I walked into a small village. I mean literally small because the people were small and everything in the village was small. The people reminded me of hobbits with their pointy ears and big hairy feet. I walked to what looked like a market place. I thought I saw Bilbo baggins from the hobbit at one point but decided to kept walking. Til I recognized a familiar gray pointy hat. I sped up my pace and grabbed the persons sleeve. “Excuse me.” Once the man turned around I immediately recognized the man. “Yes my lady?” I felt my eyes go wide from shock. “Um I-I…” my words died from my mouth as I looked at his face longer. Gandalf raised his brow, “are you alright my dear?” I blinked realizing I’ve been staring at him. “You’re Gandalf the grey, right?” He looked at me up and down, staring at me questioning. “Indeed I am, and you are?” I realized I was making a fool out of myself I shook my head and cleared my throat. “Mr. Gandalf my name is Y/N and i know I’m going to sound crazy but I believe I ended up in either The Hobbit or Lord Of The Rings. Please believe me when I say that I’m not trying to do any harm to you or Bilbo or Frodo or Thorin.” He stared at me hard then he started to smile. “Well my dear why don’t we walk and talk.” I nodded and began to walk beside him. “So let’s start from the beginning.” I swallowed and started my tale of the hobbit careful enough to not give anything important away. “Hm. Well I do believe you my lady for I just talked to Bilbo not too long ago.” I smiled. “Thank goodness. Please let me join you and the company to take back the lonely mountain, with my knowledge I can help.” He thought for a moment and nodded. “Alright. Let’s get you some supplies for the journey ahead.” We hit the market again getting me a bedroll and some feminine products I’ll need. Then he lead me to a familiar hole in the ground. “This is bilbos place isn’t it?” Gandalf nodded. “I need to do something for a bit wait for me here til I return.” I nodded. “Okay.” He began to walk away. “Oh and Y/N do stay out of trouble.” I chuckled. “You got it.”
Hours went by I ended up on the grass and took a nap. It was hard not to when the sun felt nice on my skin and the grass felt comfortable. I was startled awake by a shake to my shoulder. When I opened my eyes I was met with brown and blue eyes. “Miss why are you sleeping out here?” I blinked and sat up. “Oh sorry I must’ve dozed off waiting for Gandalf.”
“Gandalf? Are you the new member uncle was telling us?” I nodded. “Probably, Gandalf told me to wait here for him, are you heading to Mr. Baggins?” They nodded. “He should be here soon why don’t we head in while we wait?” I bit my lip and nodded. “Okay I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’m Y/N by the way.”
“I’m Fili and this is my brother Kili.” I nodded to Kili noticing him not saying anything. The three of us walked toward Bilbos home. Fili rang the doorbell. And we waited for the hobbit to open the door. Bilbo opened the door. Bilbo whimpered when he saw the three of us. “Fili.” Fili introduced himself “Kili.” Kili finally spoke. “And Y/N.” I introduced myself. The two dwarves bowed their heads. “At your service.” I nodded towards Bilbo. “You must be Mr. Boggins.”
“Nope! You can’t come in. You’ve come to the wrong house.” Bilbo went to close the door but Kili stopped him. “What? Has it been canceled?” The door was pushed back open a bit. “No one told us.” Fili walking close behind his brother. “No, nothings been canceled.” Bilbo said confused about what the dwarves were implying. “That’s a relief.” Kili pushed the door open more and walked in Fili and I followed after. “Sorry Mr. Baggins.”I say give him a sympathetic look. I could tell he was already getting frustrated. “Careful with these. I just had ‘em sharpened.” Fili began to take off his weapons. I walked in looking around the hobbits home. “The movies really didn’t do this place justice.” I muttered under my breath. Kili walking around. “It’s nice, this place. Did you do it yourself?” Kili asked. Without Bilbo paying attention Kili began to take the mud off his shoes on Bilbos mother’s chest. I bit the inside of my cheek wanting to tell him not to do that because it is Bilbos mother’s chest. “What? No, it’s been in the family for years.” Bilbo finally realized what Kili was doing. “That’s my mother’s glory box! Can you please not do that?” Bilbo was angry. Then Dwalin walked in and grabbing Kili’s shoulder leading him farther in the house. “Fili, Kili. Come on. Give us a hand.” All of us walked into what looked like a dining room. “Let’s shove this in the hallway, otherwise we’ll never get everyone in.” Bilbo stammered. “Everyone? How many more are there?” I grabbed Fili’s weapons. “Here I’ll take these Mr. Baggins.”
“Th-thank you. Do you know what’s going on.” I smiled slyly and put Fili’s weapons somewhere out of the way. Suddenly the doorbell rang again. Bilbo feeling very frustrated walked towards the door. “Oh, no. No. No. There’s nobody home! Go away and bother somebody else! There’s far too many dwarves in my dining room as it is. If this is some clot-heads idea of a joke…ha! Ha! I can only say it is in poor taste.” He opened the door I could hear the dwarves falling on the floor in the entrance of the hobbits home. I followed after Bilbo. Seeing the dwarves on the floor I giggled watching them grunt and groan. “Ah. There you are my lady I thought I told you to stay put.” I smiled. “Sorry I ran into Fili and Kili they said you would be here soon and well here you are.” Bilbo looked at Gandalf. “Gandalf.”
Soon everyone was in the dining room they were passing ales and food. Having a grand old time, I ate a bit myself. I grabbed a jug of ale and took a few gulps. I giggled some more seeing poor Bilbo tell the dwarves to put his food back from his pantry. Food was going left and right the dwarves drinking and eating. “Ale! Going one, two, three!” They were all chugging their drinks. A few letting out some burps. I laughed amongst them. Once they all finished eating they began to clean up I joined in obviously. “‘Scuse me but where do I put my plate?” Ori asked Bilbo. Fili walked up grabbing the plate from him. “Here you go, ori. Give it to me.” He tossed it to Kili who caught it without a problem and tossing it to Bifur. They were tossing all the dishes to get cleaned. I heard the dwarves clatter the silverware. “And can—can you not do that? You’ll blunt them.”
“Ooh, do you hear that, lads? He says we’ll blunt the knives.” They began to bang their shoes amongst the floor, making a beat. “ Blunt the knives, bend the forks.” Kili began to sing. “Smash the bottles and burn the corks.” Fili followed. “Chip the glasses and crack the plates.”
“That’s what Bilbo baggins hates!” They all sang together. I danced a bit to their song. “Cut the cloth tread on the fat. Leave the bones on the bedroom mat. Pour the milk on the pantry floor. Smash the wine on every door. Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl. Pound them up with a thumping pole. When you’re finished, if they are whole. Send them down the hall to roll. That’s what Bilbo baggins hates!” They all laughed after the song was finished. Suddenly there was a loud banging on the door everyone quieted down. I looked at Gandalf. “He is here.” Bilbo and Gandalf walked to the door, I followed them. Gandalf opened the door for Thorin. “Gandalf. I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way. Twice. I wouldn’t have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door.”
“Mark? There’s no mark on that door. It was painted a week ago.” Gandalf closed the door after Thorin walked in. “There is a mark. I put it there myself. Bilbo Baggins. Y/N. Allow me to introduce the leader of our company: Thorin Oakenshield.” I bowed my head a bit to be polite. “So..this is the hobbit and Gandalfs assistant. Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?” Thorin circled Bilbo. “Pardon me?”
“Axe or sword? What’s your weapon of choice?”
“Well, I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know.” I crinkled a bit. “But I fail to see why that’s relevant.”
“I thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar.” The dwarves laughed at Thorins comment. I felt a little sympathy for Bilbo. The dwarves all walked to the dining room it was just Bilbo, Gandalf, and I. “Your assistant aye.” I crossed my arms under my chest. Gandalf smiled. “Well I couldn’t just tell them you’re from another world now could I.” I nodded. “Alright, I guess it could work for now.”
I sat next to Fili and Kili at the dining table. “What need from the meeting in Ered Luin?” Balin asked Thorin. “Did they all come?”
“Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms.”
“And what did the dwarves of the iron hills say? Is Dain with us?” Dwalin asked. “They will not come.” Thorin answered.
“They say this quest is ours and ours alone.”
“You’re going on a quest?” Bilbo asked standing behind Gandalf. “Y/N, help my dear fellow Bilbo, let us have a little more light.” I nodded helping Bilbo bring some candles out. “Far to the east…over ranges and rivers… beyond woodlands and wastelands… lies a single, solitary peak.”
“The lonely mountain.”
“Aye, Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time!” Glóin said. “Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as it was foretold. When the birds of yore return to erebor, the reign of the beast will end.”
“What beast?” Bilbo asked curiously. “That would be a reference to Smaug the terrible. Chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire breather. Teeth like razors. Claws like meat hooks. Extremely fond of precious metals.” Bofur described Smaug. “Yes, I know what a dragon is.” Suddenly Oir stood up. “I’m not afraid. I’m up for it. I’ll give him a taste of dwarvish iron right up his jacksie!”
“Good lad, Ori!” Nori cheered on the dwarf. “Sit down.” Dori told him. “The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us..but we number in just 16. And not 16 of the best…nor brightest.” That gave a bit of commotion. “We may be few in number… but we’re fighters. All of us! To the last dwarf.” Fili cheered on. “And you forget, we have a wizard in our company along with his assistant. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time.” I bit back a laugh. “Oh, well, no. I-I-I wouldn’t say—,”
“How many, then?” Dori asked. “What?”
“How many dragons have you killed?” All the dwarves looked at Gandalf as he choked on his smoke. “Go on. Give us a number.” I watched as they fought amongst themselves. I pushed myself against the wall. “Uh, excuse me. Please.” Bilbo tried to talk to the dwarves when Thorin spoke up. “No more!” They all went silent. “If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for 60 years. Eyes look west to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast of our wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back erebor?!” They all cheer til Balin cuts in. “You forget: the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain.”
“That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true.” Gandalf brought out a key showing it to the dwarves. “How came you by this?” Thorin asked. “It was given to me by your father. By Thrain. For safekeeping. It is yours now.” Gandalf handed Thorin the key. “If there is a key…there must be a door.” Fili thought out loud. Gandalf showed them the writing on the map. “These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls.”
“There’s another way in.” Kili spoke happily. “Well, if we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map, and I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in middle earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage. But if we are careful and clever, I believer that it can be done.”
“That’s why we need a burglar.” Ori concluded. “Hmm. And a good one too.” All eyes were on Bilbo. “An expert, I’d imagine.”
“And are you?” Glóin asked. Bilbo looked around realizing that he asked him. “Am I what?”
“He said he’s an expert! Hey!”
“Me? No. No, no. I’m not a burglar. I’ve never stolen a thing in my life.”
“Well, I’m afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He’s hardly burglar material.” Balin replied.
“Aye, the wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves.” Dwalin looked at bilbo and I. I felt a little offended. “C’mon Dwalin they’ll manage just fine.” Bilbo agreed what the dwarf said while I bit my tongue holding back insults. The dwarves talked amongst themselves. Then Gandalf made the house grow dark. Gandalf stood as tall as he could in the small hobbits house and in a loud and scary voice, “Enough! If I say Bilbo baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is. And you will talk to my assistant with more respect. Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most, if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of a hobbit is all but unknown to him. My assistant here also has some insight about our quest which will be useful in taking back the lonely mountain. Smaug will not see us coming. You asked me to find the 14th member of this company, and I have found 2. There’s a lot more to them than appearances suggest. And they both got a great deal more to offer than any of you know. Including themselves.” I could tell he was mainly talking to Bilbo. “You must trust me on this.” Gandalf finished. Thorin seemed to take Gandalfs words seriously. “Very well. We will do it your way.” Bilbo doesn’t seem convinced though. “No.no.”
“Give them the contract.” Thorin looked at Balin. Balin took out a folded paper and handed it to Bilbo. “It’s just the usual. Summary of out of pocket expenses…time required, remuneration…funeral arrangements, so forth.” Bilbo seemed stunned by the words ‘funeral arrangements.’
“Funeral arrangements?” I placed my hand on bilbos shoulder, “it’ll be alright.” He opened the folded contract. Bilbo walked off to read the contract. Thorin leaned close to Gandalf talking about something important no doubt. “Terms: cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding 1/14th of total profit, if any. Seems fair. Present company shall not be liable for any injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof, including, but not limited to lacerations…evisceration…incineration?” I giggled a bit at bilbos reaction. “Oh, aye. He’ll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye.” Bilbo seemed to pause at that. All the dwarves took notice, “are you all right, laddie?” Balin asked the small hobbit. Bilbo put his hands on his knees,” yeah.” Bilbo seemed to try to process this, taking a few deep breaths. “Feel a bit faint.” I felt a bit sympathetic for poor Bilbo besides knowing he’ll be alright. “Bilbo?” I asked concerned for the hobbit, but it seems another dwarf had other intentions. “Think furnace with wings.” Bofur got up from his seat. I looked at the dwarf with eyes to plead to him to stop. “Air. I-I-I need air.” Bilbo looked like he was going to get sick. “Flash of light, searing pain, then poof! You’re nothing more than a pile of ash.” I bit my lip watching the scene play out. Bilbo tried his best to keep calm and to not faint, but he failed. “Nope.” And he went down. I closed my eyes and sighed, “now you’ve done it. Good going Bofur.” I put my hands on my hips. “Oh, very helpful, Bofur.” Gandalf sarcastically said. I grabbed the contract picked up a quill and signed my name, handing it to Balin. “There you go.” Balin looked at the signature. “Welcome to the company, my lady.” I bowed my head and he did the same. The company helped poor Bilbo up and onto his comfy armchair. He was well awake and holding a cup of tea. “I’ll be all right. Just let me sit quietly for a moment.” Gandalf smoking his pipe seemed to get angry at the small hobbit. “You’ve been sitting quietly for far too long. Tell me, when did doilies and your mother’s dishes become so important to you?” Remembering this moment I decided to leave Gandalf and Bilbo to their conversation joining the dwarves in the other room. Fili and Kili walked up to me,” is Mr. Boggins all right?” I nodded. “Yes but he and Gandalf are having a serious conversation so I’d wait if you want to talk to him.” Kili nodded. “Do you think he’ll come?”
“No way brother, Mr. Boggins is way too comfortable here.” Fili responded. “I think he’ll come.” I smiled a little. “Why did you not faint, don’t dragons scare you?” Kili asked, I chuckled a bit, “of course they do but I also think dragons are cool. Seeing one up close sure would be a story to tell one day, that’s if I make it.” I know the story of them but what of me technically I died who knows what’ll happen to me here. “Cool? Dragons are not cool, remember what Bofur said. Furnace with wings.” Fili reminded me, I laughed. “Yes, yes. I remember I just meant they’re majestic, and also terrifying.” I have to remind myself that ‘cool’ isn’t a normal slang term in this world. In that moment Bilbo was walking past us going to what I believe is his bedroom. Kili and Fili suddenly left me to join the other dwarves in the living room. I began to hear humming and singing from the living room, remembering Thorin singing the misty mountain. I sat outside of the room listening to the beautiful sound but also hearing the mournful sound in Thorins voice. I vowed to myself I’ll make sure the durin line will survive once we arrived at the lonely mountain. Leaving my place in the hobbits home I walked outside took a place near the entrance of the hobbits home and fell asleep.
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