-why no one recognizes that Tolkien was amazing on writing comedy
-dwarves *sing a song basically explaining what's going on" Bilbo*-i can help maybe but what's going on* Thorin*-you dumb bitch we just told you*
-gandalf *-yeah your father gave me the key when I found him in the necromancer cave* thorin *-and what the fuck you were doing in the necromancer cave?* Gandalf*-none of your business*
- book thorin just don't giving a fuck and basically demanding breakfast casually
-i loved valfenda, also it says it's welcoming to any one's needs, so it's adorable to think that even the dwarves felt welcomed there
-they did however roasted everyone in the company apparently which is hilarious imagine being called a dumb bitch by some weirdos and then spending fourteen days as their guests
-no one can talk to me about fucking world building when it's Canon on Tolkien's universe that the trolls coin purse fucking talks
so imagine: since dwarf men and women in middle earth are similar in voice and appearance, gender isn't very emphasized in dwarven societies. what's deemed attractive applies across the board, so it's not seen as strange to be attracted to the same gender. it's also accepted to live as a gender different from what you were thought to be (or be genderless, etc.), because it wouldn't change much anyway.
Bilbo hadn’t really understood why the dwarves had hated the elf so much, but of course, Bofur had quietly told him of why they were so distrustful of her, but it wasn’t entirely personal, they’d distrusted all elves, even the ones in Rivendell. He’d become rather fond of her, but only because she was much more mannered and polite. She favored two daggers over the typical elven choice of a sword and bow, which Bilbo found odd, as he’d always heard stories about elves and their almost perfect skill with bows and swords. Even Lord Elrond of Rivendell carried a sword, which he had no doubt that the elven lord was lethal with it.
But while Bilbo had come to recognize that the dwarves were offensive fighters, she was defensive, and it’d taken quite a while for him to understand that any time there was danger, she was always next to him, keeping close so that nothing could hurt him. But he’d also seen her when she was sneaking behind enemies, watching as she’d taken down more than the dwarves who were in the thick of it.
The night had called, and Bilbo found himself unable to sleep, tossing and turning over the hard ground while the others snored around him. He lie there for as long as he could before he sat up with a quiet sigh, discontent flooding him as he threw the blanket off before rising from the bedroll. He assumed a short stroll might tire him out, not too far of course—the last thing he wanted was to end up like he’d been with the trolls.
As he neared the edge of the camp, his keen eyes saw a flash of silver in the low branches of a tree and he blinked, squinting at the figure sitting up there. It was their resident elf, still as the dead, watching over the camp and around them. It was a rather flustering amount of time before Bilbo realized she was staring right at him, and he felt his cheeks redden as embarrassment flooded his body. Still though, he walked over to stand somewhat beneath her, enough that he could crane his neck and look up at her.
“What are you doing up there?” he asked quietly, though he’d already known the answer.
“The better question is what are you doing awake?” she countered, and he shifted on his feet.
“I couldn’t sleep. I miss my bed,” he added, unable to hide his homesickness.
She nodded, turning to look out towards the land shadowed by the night. “Understandable. The ground is rather hard. Good for your back though, believe it or not.”
“I think I shall agree to disagree. I like my soft bed and fluffy pillows.”
She chuckled lowly and with a bit of grace, shifted and rolled off the branch, landing in front of him without so much as a noise. “You should try to sleep though, Bilbo. Our journey will only become much more difficult if you are exhausted.”
He felt shame creep up his neck, and he looked at his feet. “I…I’m sorry I’m not much help.” He was in fact not a help at all, always getting in the way, not even able to fight, not able to—
“Bilbo,” she calmed, kneeling down, and placing a hand on his shoulder; she looked at him with kind eyes. “I didn’t mean you would make the entire journey difficult. I meant your own experience would be uncomfortable because of your exhaustion.”
“Oh…” he said, feeling a bit foolish.
“While some of the others might think you a burden, rest assured that I do not, Bilbo, and I think you are wonderful company on this adventure.” She gestured for them to sit down against a rock, far enough from the dwarves that their talking wouldn’t disturb them, but close enough that she could see over them.
“Bilbo,” she started, gently wrapping an arm around him, pulling him close. “No one is expecting you to become some great warrior.”
He shifted around in her grip until he was as comfortable as he could be. “I know, but sometimes I feel like I am weighing us all down.”
“As you will, you’ve no prior experience in battle or on any type of business where it is this dangerous. But you’re learning, and that’s the most important thing. If you weren’t, then we would be considering shoving you in a barrel and floating you back up a stream to the Shire.”
He blinked, a smile on his lips as he laid his head against her side. “Where do you come from?”
She fell silent for a long while before she murmured, “I originally hail from Mirkwood.”
“The kingdom that Thorin’s family dealt with?”
“That would be the kingdom.”
“How did you end up here?” he asked, and she let out a long breath. The question was more than obvious. How did one of Erebor’s greatest enemies end up on the adventure to take back Erebor?
“I’m old, Bilbo. Very old. I’ve been on this earth longer than many of the elves around, save Elrond and Lady Galadriel.” She turned into him closer. “I was King Thranduil’s guard captain when Erebor was at its height of power. When Erebor fell to Smaug, we had marched to the carnage. Thranduil refused to help the dwarves.” She frowned. “Even in his grief, anger, and greed, we are still called to watch over Middle Earth. His refusal to assist innocents in their greatest peril went against my very purpose. I wasn’t going to stand for it.”
Bilbo listened to her, and asked softly, “What happened?”
“I abandoned my post. I refused to follow a king who wouldn’t put aside his pride in favor of helping a group of refuges who’d just lost literally everything they had. There is no honor in letting people die. Especially the innocent dwarves who had nothing to do with the issue between Thranduil and Thorin’s grandfather.”
“I can’t assume you left without a fight?”
“Oh, I didn’t,” she deadpanned. “For an entire week, I fled through the land from Erebor, chased by the very guards I trained. At every turn, I engaged in battle with my men and women. I was wounded beyond belief.”
He looked up at her. “Obviously you survived, but how? If you were so injured…?”
“I made it to Rivendell.” She met his gaze with a grin. “I am not even kidding, I was on the bridge at Rivendell, fighting for my life.”
“And?” Bilbo was practically on the edge of his seat.
“I made the mistake of going high when my enemy went low. The blow knocked me back into the staircase where I lay, ready to be beheaded, when Rivendell guards swarmed around me, raising weapons against the elves of Mirkwood.”
“Really?” he asked in disbelief.
“Really. Lord Elrond appeared, a sword in his own hand and commanded they leave at once, or any further aggression would be considered an attack on Rivendell and his guards would respond with force.” She smiled. “I passed out, but when I came to, I was in a bed in Rivendell, Lord Elrond watching over me.”
“He seems a very wise elf.”
“Oh, he is. Very esteemed by us all, respected among everyone, even men, dwarf, and hobbit alike.” She breathed deeply. “He allowed me to recuperate and stay for some time before I left.”
“How long did you stay?”
“Fifty years.” She answered. “I fell into quite a depression over my lack of helping during Erebor’s fall. I felt at fault for not even trying to assist the dwarves.”
Bilbo started to blink slowly, eyelids beginning to droop. “Where did you go after?”
“Anywhere and everywhere away from Mirkwood. I became a bounty hunter. Honed my techniques and abilities.”
“Hmm…does…” he breathed deeply, trying to stay awake. “Does Thorin know?”
She looked down in shock. “What?”
“Thorin…does he know?”
“No, I do not believe so.”
Bilbo hummed again, curling up into her side. “Should tell him…may…forgive you.”
She simply watched as he fell asleep before picking him up, carrying him back towards his bedroll; as she put him down, she pulled his blanket up just under his chin and smiled sadly down at him—if only it was that simple.
As she carefully stepped between the sleeping dwarves, heading back towards the tree she’d been in, she couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched. She paused, looking around at their sleeping faces, and when she shrugged, going back towards the tree, Thorin opened his eyes once more, gazing at her back as she did, imagining the weight of the world upon her shoulders just as his was then all those years ago, and now.
“For Thorin’s Erebor reclaimed costume I started weaving op strips of leather to create a dark tunic that would be worn over gold. It was almost like a cage, trapping the gold against his chest (lots of symbolism there) and had a certain streetwise quality to it, a roguishness which was something we wanted. The gold was bringing out the mean streak in Thorin so a certain thuggish, biker-gang quality to his coat subtly reinforced this shift in character.
Beneath the leather Thorin wore a velvet tunic to which we attached his chainmaille, something which came about with a lot of input from Peter and produced a staunch, unfussy look. Thorin’s great cloak with its fur collar gave him an even bigger presence. It was always intended that this was formerly one of his grandfather Thror’s cloaks and by wearing it we were showing how Thorin was taking on Thror’s mantle both literally and figuratively, and with it, assuming all of Thror’s problems as well. Just as was done for Thror before him, the cloak was designed to add mass to the actor’s shoulders. We put huge folds in the back to give it more breadth”. - Bob Buck, Costume Designer
“Thorin, being such an important character, went through a lot of development. His costume had to reflect the journey he was going through internally.
Peter, Fran and Philippa went back to the lore for a solution, and that is where the raven theme came from. The Dwarves of Erebor have always had a close relationship with the ravens of the Mountain; they were very important to their culture. The Dwarves can talk to them, so it was a nice touch to reference that relationship with the costume, and it was dark. The entire costume was gold and black, a really fitting metaphor for how the gold was changing Thorin.
The other cool thing was the link we could build between Thorin and Thror, who wore almost identical armour. Thorin would look at himself in this armour and see his grandfather. There could be a moment there in which he would recognize the same sickness that corrupted Thror and make the choice not to be the same”. - Matt Appleton, Weta Workshop Costume Supervisor
Hobbits are attracted to soft things, Dwarves are attracted to opulence.
It was the talk of the Shire when the last Baggins ran off on an adventure, presumed dead of course, those adventures are nasty, deadly things; even more so when he popped up again, a rather large, rather wild looking fellow at his side. He'd not been home for long before talks of a wedding started circulating. And of course there's no talk for polite society quite like wedding talk. It was even more a surprise when, confronted about the rumors on one screechy morning by a Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, he quite gleefully announced that it wouldn't be to a Hobbit at all but to a dwarf of all people. The dwarf that had taken to following Mister Baggins everywhere, Dwalin they called him, had let loose a rather frightening, growly laugh at the shock on all their faces. Poor Miss Sackville-Baggins had to be carried down the hill after she fainted the poor dear. They were told to sit tight and be patient, that they would get their fill of ogling soon enough. In the meantime all of the Shire was alive with the joyous occasion of wedding preparation. Because if there is one thing that Hobbits love more than Mushrooms it is celebrating. And a wedding of any kind is as good of an excuse as any.
A quiet catching worry of having so many dwarves about does spread through many of the older, more respectable hobbits. They're just so very different is all, especially if they're anything like Mister Dwalin; who is a great help when it comes to lifting heavy things but is truly terrifying when he's had a bit much to drink as he's fond of heavy handed cuddles and the hobbits are a fragile folk that bruise quite easily.
So is it any wonder that mutters and murmurs chase up and down the hill when the wedding party arrives for one Mister Bilbo Baggins and the good folk of Hobbiton get a look at his groom?
At first glance he was a very comely fellow, round and jolly with a smile that could make up for the beard. And then he was introduced as one Master Bombur, one of the Groomsmen. The good hobbits of the Shire were quite quietly appalled when Mister Baggins introduced his Fiance to them. A Master Thorin Oakenshield Son of Thrain Son of Thror; a rugged dwarf with far too many angles and tangles and hard lines and edges, covered from head to toe in lean muscle that had a great many hobbits doubting Mister Baggins skills as a homemaker. He was grumpy whenever he was parted from his fiance and moody at the best of times. There was nothing soft about him, which it is common knowledge to be that which Hobbits prize most dearly in a partner. And, in the opinions of the Hobbiton high society, one of the singularly most unpleasant and unattractive individuals in the entirety of Middle Earth.
Though he did briefly salvage their good opinion when he thoroughly and succinctly put at least a temporary end to the screeching of Lobelia Sackville-Baggins by glowering at her so hard she was, for the first and probably the last time in her life, struck dumb.
As the wedding grew closer the murmurs grew more frantic, was Mister Baggins really intent to tie himself to this unpleasant dwarf? He was certainly eccentric but he's a kind fellow and the hobbits of Hobbiton surely did not wish to see him miserable. Such murmurs persisted until the time they were overheard by the rather overzealous nephews of the dwarf in question and were silenced with enthusiastic prejudice. So the Hobbits worried. Privately. And quietly. (No one was going to be the first to find out if the young dwarves really would skewer them like shish kabobs and leave them to dry in the sun.)
Until the day of the wedding.
Gathered in a discontented crowd the hobbits of the Shire watched on as the glowering dwarf stood watching for his husband to be, barely paying any heed to the officiant. (To be fair Old Took was paying him about the same amount of mind, distracted he was rattling off tales of Tooks past). And then, when Bilbo entered, something remarkable happened.
The Dwarf softened.
Icy steel eyes melted into warm springs, tense shoulders settled open and loose, clenched fists relaxed, subconsciously reaching forward just the slightest bit.
That day, that dwarf was the softest of any seen before or seen since to this very day. And every single Hobbit in the Shire was jealous of one Bilbo Baggins and his beautiful soft dwarf.
Let's talk about the iconic 'I can not guarantee his safety, nor will I be responsible for his fate' scene.
It's iconic mostly for how wrong it is throughout the entire series. What I want to look at is Gandalf's response. It's important to remember that Gandalf is a Maiar. He possesses the preternatural ability to perceive the future. The absolute moment Thorin utters the words I will not be responsible for his fate, Gandalf gives him a quick look. The look is sharp, shocked, and amused by his words. He knows exactly how quickly that little warning will be discarded. He knows the profound effect our little burglar will have on him.
This premonition ability is articulated even better by this gif below. This is after he makes eye contact with Balin. Now I know he doesn't need premonition to know Azog is back. But the scene where Balin and Gandalf make eye contact is broken into two parts for a reason. This is the latter. Two things happened before this scene Thorin said Azog was dead, and Balin said that he would follow Thorin as king. This final shot of Gandalf is one of self-reflection. His eyes look inward, and he takes a settling breath. He is calming himself not because of what he just heard but because he knows what's to come. He knows Azog's role in this quest.
So let's return to the second part of Gandalf's response to Thorin's declaration. The almost amused smirk he had at Thorin's initial words fades. This might partly be because he knows Thorin is fated to die, but I think the truth of this forlorn look lies with our Hobbit. The phrase "I will not be responsible for his fate" is so deeply untrue. Gandalf didn't know about the ring and didn't need to know that the trajectory of Bilbo's life would forever change because he knew Thorin Oakenshield.
Meeting Thorin, falling in love with Thorin, and losing Thorin leaves scars on Bilbo that dug deeper than even the ring could. That is a look of sadness to come. A tired regret of a man sending a friend on a journey that will create and destroy him in equal measure.
so, i am one film in of my the hobbit re-watch and it's interesting how they portrayed each dwarf visually. there's quite an amount of fighting which showcases us the way they act: who's the fighter and who's the carer, who's the leader and who's the follower, who's the mind and who's the brutal force. but — their appearance does tell a huge part of the untold story about who they are and what are their roles in the company.
while re-watching 'an unexpected journey' i had an opportunity to pay closer attention to fili and kili:
and if i still didn't know a single thing about them aside basics and was asked «who's going to be the next king?», i'd say fili without hesitation, based only on the visual.
fili is put together. he might even seem to be somewhat arrogant with his facial expressions. and visual implications of him being the mature one are in his braids, his still growing beard but already braided mustache.
in comparison to kili — fili has a little bit of the weight that the age brings on him.
one of the reasons why we might sympathise alot with kili is because kili feels young. his appearance screams that he is the youngest: long unbraided/barely braided hair and those bangs, strands of hair over his face in a way to make it look rounder and cuter. we see kili act impulsively, him being all over the place with attachement and trust, him being childishly loud and stupidly brave. and his appearance really makes sense of that.
the relationships between durin's are also quite interesting to look at:
the thing with fili is not just him being the oldest of the brothers, for also because he is prepared/taught to be mature one. we don't really hear it specified in action but richard said that thorin prepares fili to be the next to the throne. and i think, he used the word «groomed» which might mean that they're at the beginning of the process that is not exactly wanted by one of the sides. hence, why i am using «prepared/taught to» — fili is still young and dumb at times but he is ahead of kili on the ride of growing up. because he has to. he is, again, more put together but he has alot of weaponry that he carries on him in order to be prepared for any sort of fight. he learns skills and hence the reason he still has huge assignment of blades to chose from.
fili is also less confrontational with thorin. kill is really open and honest about his feelings towards thorin's actions, for example in the scenes where thorin is unfair to bilbo. seems like kili really did get attached to the hobbit and was not shy to be judgemental.
also desperate for he is still young and doesn't really understand the meaning of calculated decisions and compromises.
fili usually keeps to the side, be it because he observes, has less confrontational character or just knows not to interfere when thorin gets moody. when kili jokes on bilbo — fili just plays along. when thorin starts to berate them it's kili who's ashamed but fili is just there. he is so done with thorin, it seems, he doesn't have it in him to react.
observing kili's behavior we can say that kili looks up to thorin in a more sincere, childish way. thorin is the hero of his childhood dreams, for he is the dwarf who took up on the role of his father while juggling all of his other duties. kili wants to impress thorin, wants to be good for him too, it shows in a way he jumps into fights hot-headed. and he is often ashamed when he disappoints him.
fili, on the other hand, just does what thorin says because he knows thorin will want of him exactly that. he learned a lot from and of thorin, he knows how to operate under his command. in a way, he might start to see thorin more as a leader rather than a father figure.
and it might be for another post but we see fili get openly confrontational only in 'the desolation of smaug' and only because kili is in danger. no matter how important it is for thorin to raise a king out of him, fili is still going to put his brother first.
he protests:
first time is when thorin rushes everyone on the river bank while kili needs healer's attention because of his leg.
second time — when thorin wants fili to go with them to erebor and fili choses to stay in laketown with kili who's gotten worse. thorin needs fili there with them because he is the next in line. fili's priorities lie with his brother. and that's probably the most loud conflict fili had with thorin in the whole trilogy. that was the conflict of interests.
the most loud conflict kili had with thorin, though, is in 'the battle of the five armies' when he finally had enough of thorin hiding behind a wall while the rest are dying for them. he almost lost respect for thorin and that was his last attempt to bring him to his senses because this thorin was not his childhood hero, was not the person he looks up to and the matter at hand wasn't just his foul character. it was the conflict of morals.
Long answer is that I would love to enjoy some of the amazing Thorin/OC fics out there. However, Bagginshield has devoured me body and soul, and I can not imagine Thorin with anyone else. Even when I read it, it feels like cheating on Bilbo. I would make a very poor writer for something I don't enjoy reading. That said, where I fail, others have thrived!
Please, Please, Please check out the below writers to get that Thorin/OC or Thorin/Reader fix!
(Thought I’d upload my recent comics to Tumblr! I totally forgot it only lets you upload 10 pics at a time, and this is 11, but fingers crossed it works!)