The hobbit stood at the other end of the market was a mere shell of the one that had no more than five minutes ago been almost screaming into her face, eyes ablaze with frustration and rage. No, she was hollow; glazed over and devoid of anything. A statue in a red dress.
That was not Lobelia. That was something else.
And then the wind shifted. A lull in conversation allowed a handful of words to carry over to her open ears, and Dís heard.
“-unwanted there. How long until your parents have enough too, and then you’ll have no one-”
“Dís?”
Winnifred’s worried tone barely registered. The shock of that statement, said so plainly in public, before a bloody audience was so vile, so visceral…
“Why does no one speak up?” Dís questioned, her eyes never leaving Lobelia’s unmoving form.
“It’s…” Winnifred sighed. “It’s just not done.”
That wasn’t good enough.
That fact only intensified when Otho pushed off the barrel and took two sure steps towards Lobelia to lay a hand on her shoulder and – in a minute movement so small that had she not been openly gawking Dís would have missed entirely – Lobelia recoiled.
Dís stared.
Fjóla stared back.
“Fuck propriety,” she snarled.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Thank you so much for sending this in! I held back on answering because I knew exactly what I wanted to use but couldn't until it was edited and published. Owing to that, my answer for number 3 will be last, underneath a cut as it is a major spoiler to my longest running fic endeavor, Let Me Be Your Fire.
17. fics you’ll continue next year - All of my open WIPs are meant to be continued next year. Currently, those are....
Alpha and Omega -
Rating: E
Summary:
What begins as Ori only intending to share a bed roll with Fíli for warmth one night, eventually turns into the acquaintances becoming curious about each other after, then falling in love over the course of the quest despite others wishing they would just leave each other be.
Meanwhile, Thorin is doing his best to be a good example for his eldest sister-son and not act on the urge to let himself be wrapped around one specific Hobbit Omega's fingers. However, he fails spectacularly.
The rest, as some say, is history.
(This is my Hobbit Round Up fic, which is meant to be finished no later than January 17th, 2026, per the event.)
Eyes on Fire -
Rating: E
Summary:
Ori is late for her shift at the coffee shop she, her older sibling Nori, and eldest brother Dori own. The venue also doubles as a waypoint for the supernatural to congregate amongst each other freely, in their corner of Middle Earth.
After Dori and Nori leave her to finish the early shift, Ori meets a vampire, who will one day change her entire existence.
Just A Kiss
Rating: M
Summary:
A conversation in Bag-End before the Quest for Erebor occurs in earnest, leads to Ori's and Fíli's first kiss together.
As the journey continues on, that first kiss isn't the only thing that's unexpected.
OR: The Quest for Erebor, told through different types of Fíliori kisses.
Let Me Be Your Fire
Rating: E
Summary:
When Thorin's rule as King Under The Mountain comes into question 13 years after Erebor was reclaimed, Fíli alongside Ori step up to assure their restless kinfolk of the future of their reclaimed kingdom by offering to marry and produce the next in line to the Throne Under The Mountain.
While having known each other since they were pebbles, both Fíli and Ori will realize they have a lot to learn if their nascent friendship and arranged marriage have a chance of making it at all.
Can love grow amidst duty and remain, or was their idea all for naught?
Like Real People Do
Rating: M
Summary:
Nori, Ori and Dori own a struggling bookstore that one photographer just cannot seem to get enough of.
One day, Nori catches his younger brother attempting once again to hide his covert staring at said photographer, only for that to lead to further discussion and so much more.
Lost Then Found
Rating: M
Summary:
Ori saves a stranger, despite his elder brother Nori's suggestion he do the opposite. What follows is the beginning of the rest of his life after finding the dwarf he'd like to share it with completely by mistake.
Of course, Mahal works in mysterious ways.
Given King Thrain is a tyrant, discovering he saved one of his grandsons only makes his life that much more complicated.
The course of true love never did run smooth, after all.
Making A Memory
Rating: E
Summary:
Ori and Fíli both thought they would never see each other again. However, thanks to one best friend and the best brother ever, that isn't the case.
After years of not talking following their initial break up, they finally work it out the night of Gimli's stag do, thanks to Kíli's meddling.
What happens after is a second chance to begin anew, whilst making a memory, or two.
Something Wicked
Rating: T
Summary:
Following the death of his mother and father, Bilbo takes Belladonna's place as the human representative on a council full of creatures he had once thought were only characters in storybooks. Amongst them is a Daemon king, who just might be both a curse and eventually a comfort.
Thief of My Heart
Rating: M
Summary:
"Let me love you," Dwalin said, his tone almost pleading.
"I am," Nori replied.
"Openly."
Nori stepped back out of his hold, and it felt like the slipping of something precious through his fingers.
OR: Nwalin's love story in the Threads of Fate series, which is based off of the timeline and events of the main fic, Lost Then Found.
The Weight of Love and Loss
Rating: M
Summary:
In the wake of losing Fíli, Kíli and Thorin in the Battle of the Five Armies, those they left behind are grieving. Some more than others, including Ori, who carries not only his sadness, but more than one secret.
Dáin's right to rule is assured, though some believe binding a member of the Company to his son will help ease the transition for smoother relations amidst the rebuilding of Erebor. Ori has many reasons to ignore this, but just as many to offer himself up as the marriage candidate Thorin Stonehelm will wed.
What follows is the rest of his life and beyond, as he handles the weight of love and loss.
Wild Uncharted Waters
Rating: E
Summary:
Many know the story of Disney's The Little Mermaid.
But what happened after the curtains closed?
This is the story of how after one princess landed a wife, who was once a mermaid, their story continued following the initial happily ever after.
(This fic can be read on its own, as this is a standalone as much as a sequel. The SFW Little Mermaid AU, entitled Part of Your World, is forthcoming by next summer. Link to fanart attached in the author's note.)
25. a fic you read this year you would recommend everyone read
I entered the Hobbit fandom a year ago, and in that time have read SO MANY good fanfics. How am I to only pick one? This is an evil question, honestly. Lol.
Okay. So, this is a sequel in a massive series, but I stand by the fact it is an important fic, and deserves to be read. That fic is A Stolen Throne by Cupcake_Princess. @generic-brand-blog The topics discussed in it alone from grief, to disability, love in various forms, to the character growth present (or that I know is coming because that's the benefit of being friends with the author/ lighthearted, joking. Lol.) I think are so important, and I am amazed at their prose in this fic, as well. Honestly all of their writing blows me away whenever I read it. So, do yourself a favor and get on that. :)
3. favorite line/scene you wrote this year - This section comes from Chapter 30 of Let Me Be Your Fire, which I linked above. It is an important chapter in a lot of ways, as so much has led up to this moment. However, this whole section I love dearly, but it does contain a lot of spoilers for interpersonal dynamics and where the story will go from here in a sense. With 45 chapters left, there's still a lot of events and character growth, needless to say. (If I hadn't chosen this, it would've been Ori's speech in the library Ch. 8, but alas.) Anyways.
"I was made aware last night that Thorin and Bilbo will be leaving... in the next few years. Becoming king and all it requires will fall to me sooner than I thought." Fíli paused, inhaling sharply. "I knew it was a possibility, but hadn't considered it a real one, so soon, until last night."
"Oh," Ori replied. He had no other words at the moment, as he processed what that meant for them and him, too.
He also wasn't expecting to be told that, but Thorin had been so tired, alongside Bilbo, too. They weren't quite so old. At least, the King wasn't by dwarrow standards. However, signs of him being more exhausted continued to creep into the way he simply existed. It was logical, this next step, even if it terrified Ori.
He took a deep breath then met Fíli’s eyes again.
"Okay. Thank you for telling me."
Fíli nodded, his face serious.
"I figured it was only right to do before we properly put our marriage braids in and -"
Ori swiftly cut him off, once realizing just what seemed to be bothering Fíli so much. Aside from the news, it was clear what else had been on his mind. At least, to Ori, anyways.
"Fíli, stop. I don't want out of this marriage, even now. I just want you, and all that might entail. Crown or not, I'm yours."
Ori waited to see how that information was received. Knowingly or not though, his heart had been given to Fíli long ago. Acknowledging that in full had taken longer, but regardless, that made the statement no less true.
After the initial shock, Fíli responded, ever so softly, voice steady, "Your heart is mithril, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to afford it."
"Fíli," Ori breathed. It took only one moment for him to know how he wished to respond. Unlike years before, he refused to hide how he felt anymore. "If mine is mithril, then so is yours. I am forever indebted to Mahal, for being allowed to hold it."
The barest whimper escaped Fíli, as his eyes became molten. However, whatever fire had been struck within him was being held at bay. So, Ori kissed him, pulling him closer. Fíli responded in kind, snogging him so tenderly whilst wrapping his arms around him. They bracketed Ori securely against his husband's body, and he melted into that touch.
It had been over a month since their mouths had met this way, and when they did again it felt like an exhale of all that weighed Ori down. Every last difficult issue he had endured paled in comparison to being held as if he were priceless beyond measure. While love itself had never much interested him, Fíli did; to love him was to know true safety and warmth, as much as pure light. And Ori wanted to bask in it for all the days to come, alongside Fíli.
At some point, Ori felt himself being lifted up and allowed it, then feeling his bum resting on the banister behind him. He held onto Fíli's neck, their kissing still tender, and like a drink from a refreshing spring on a hot summer's day. He didn't care if someone saw them up there; let them look. The citizens would gossip about him, or them, whether they remained affectionate behind closed doors or not. At least there, with their love on full display, no one could question it.
To be loved out loud; cherished, before the eyes of Erebor, didn't bother Ori so much anymore, if it was Fíli who he was holding, and being held by in return. Their marriage was meant to prove in the stability of Durin's line anyhow; if anyone thought with the way that he was being kissed he wasn't also loved well in private, well that was their own damn fault, he felt.
Furthermore, he would love Fíli the same in return, because if anyone deserved such affection and attention, it was him. Whether others who had come before him had believed that or not, Ori was intent on showing the kingdom and beyond that he knew the value of his One; prince or pauper, Fíli was worth loving.
Here's another fic for the Writer’s Month 2021 challenge (see @writersmonth for more info).
How about some fluffy Bardfur with a pinch of Metal AU?
I wrote this fic for @theresonlyzuul. If you want to know where I got my inspiration for the Metal AU, check out their art account @geetimesthree while you’re at it, you'll find lots of amazing art there, including Metal Bofur wearing pink Doc Martens 💕
Enjoy!
Today's prompt: word: cold | setting: coffeeshop AU
Fandom: The Hobbit
Relationships: Bard x Bofur
Warnings: some fluff and tons of delicious apple pie
As usual, you can read this fic here and on AO3.
* * *
Day 2: Warm
Bard was cold. Scratch that, he was freezing, and he had a feeling that his nose was just about to freeze off his face. That awful icy rain accompanied by chilling gusts of wind made him recall why late November was definitely not his favourite time of the year. In retrospect, sailing out to the lake on a day like this was not the cleverest of his ideas, but Sigrid was so excited about that new fish stew recipe she’d found somewhere on the Internet, he couldn’t say no to her. Unfortunately, the fish were equally fond of the weather as he was, and so Bard gave up in the early hours of the afternoon and docked at the pier empty-handed.
With a groan, he turned the collar of his jacket up against the wind and let his feet carry him to the place he’d usually stop by after a day at the lake. The sign above the entrance said Bombur’s Coffee Shop, but the truth was the place looked as if a heavy metal pub and a roadside diner had a love child. The owner baked mean apple pies though, and his cousin, Bifur, was an excellent barista. But that was not the reason, or at least not the main reason, why Bard would visit that place so often.
The interior was dimly lit, creating a cozy atmosphere. The mouth-watering smell of cinnamon and freshly baked pastries filled Bard’s nostrils as soon as he entered.
“Ahoy there!” a friendly voice called out from behind the bar.
“Hi, Bofur, what’s on the menu today?” Bard spoke, and then, as usual, cursed himself inwardly. That was it. The longest sentence he was able to speak to that brown-eyed man in his signature hat without awkwardly stumbling over the words.
“It seems like a proper slice of our apple pie straight from the oven with a generous dollop of whipped cream is what you are needin’ right now,” Bofur smiled widely, sending him a friendly wink. For Bard, on a day like this, that smile was like condensed sunshine, even though with that floppy-eared hat of his, tattoos, and a mandatory black t-shirt with a metal band logo Bofur looked more like a motorcycle gang member than a friendly neighborhood bartender.
“Sounds great,” Bard nodded and sat down at his usual place at the bar, earning a thumbs up from the aforementioned friendly neighborhood bartender who not only sported the most playful moustache in town, but also proudly wore the pinkest pair of Doc Martens he had ever seen. That was Bofur in a nutshell: like rum chocolate with raisins and nuts, each little chunk completely surprising. A much-needed spark of cheerful chaos in Bard’s orderly life. He grinned, but, yet again, there was no clever retort he could offer.
“We’ll have you warmed up in no time!” Bofur assured him and entered the kitchen door, “Oy! Bif! Come on here, Bard is in dire need of yer coffee!”
Bard sighed. He was a successful businessman, a father raising his three teenage kids on his own, a city council member used to public speaking, and yet, somehow, around that man, his words failed him every single time. But he would still return to Bombur’s again and again. It felt homely. Friendly. What's more, Bofur was there too, always grinning cheerfully, always offering him just the right thing: food, drink, or a conversation. And with time, the thin line between a bartender and a friend started becoming more and more blurry.
“Here ye go!” a plate with a generous slice of pie along with a large cup of coffee materialized in front of him.
Bard muttered a “thank you” and tried to focus on the food and not on Bofur’s broad hands, nor on his calloused, steady fingers, not on the wide black ring he wore. He tried not to wonder why one of the bartender’s nails was broken, and why all of them were covered with black nail polish. It all suited him somehow. The fingers of Bard’s left hand danced on the polished surface of the bar, dangerously close to the place where Bofur’s hand had been just moments ago.
The apple pie tasted good, and it pleasantly warmed Bard’s belly as he listened to Bofur’s usual talk; this time he was speaking of his friend’s teenage nephews and their failed attempts at ice skating on the thin ice that slowly started covering the lake. Bard chuckled in all the right moments and shook his head when the story got a bit more serious only to burst out in laughter at the end.
“Ye are laughin’ with your mouth only,” Bofur pointed at him with a towel he was drying the coffee cups with.
“Ah, nothing,” he tried to dismiss it, but Bofur wouldn’t have any of it.
“That has to be a big nothing since you’ve never said anything about the pie!”
“What about it?” Bard frowned, realizing that his plate was almost empty.
“New recipe! There are lingonberries in it! Yer favourite!” At this point, Bofur sounded almost offended.
“I have a lot on my mind,” he mumbled apologetically, eyeing the lonely red berry on his plate.
“Work? Kids?” Bofur leaned on the bar, while his eyes searched Bard’s face with unmistakable concern.
“Both. Don’t mind me,” Bard admitted, trying to avoid Bofur’s gaze. “I guess I’m just tired.”
“Well,” Bofur scratched his head, tilting his hat in the process. “I can’t do much about those two first things, but the last one… how ‘bout a fishing trip first thing tomorrow morning?”
“Excuse me?” Bard gasped. He was working on finding an opportunity to spend some time with this kind-eyed guy for months now, somewhere where they could just be themselves, not a councilman and a bartender, but Bard and Bofur, getting to know each other better, trying to figure out whether there was something more to it, and what exactly that “it” was, and there it happened, just like that, completely out of the blue.
“Fish bite best in the morning, y’know, and it’s goin’ to be a lovely November day. Ye need to relax, Bard, even a blind man could see it! Ye are as tense as a nun in a brothel!” Bofur punctuated each of his sentences producing a loud clank of yet another clean coffee cup placed firmly on a tray.
“Oh, well, I…” Tomorrow. Fishing. With Bofur. Bard desperately needed words, the right words, but his mind protested.
“Okay, okay, I get it, no worries,” Bofur waved his hands dismissively,
“Ye have probably more interesting things to do on a Saturday than listening to my prattling all day long.”
“No! It’s not like that!” Bard protested, quickly getting up from his stool. “I’d love to! Let us take my boat, I can show you my favourite fishing spots, and then you can tell me all about Fili and Kili’s latest mischief!”
Words. He had finally found them. And he wasn’t planning on losing them again.
“Are ye sure?” Bofur eyed him intently.
“Take some of that apple pie with you and be at the pier at 6:00 am,” Bard decided, leaving several bills on the bar and putting on his coat.
“Aye aye, capt’n!” Bofur made a mock salute. “I’ll be there! And I’ll bring a thermos of Bifur’s best coffee, too!”
Bard left the coffee shop with a grin and a large piece of apple pie for his kids. Even though the freezing rain attacked his face without mercy, he didn’t care. For the first time in ages, Bard was no longer cold.
* * *
Read it? Like it? Spread the love and reblog it!
Fell like reading more?
Here is my masterlist for the Writer's Month 2021 event.
Taglist: @fizzyxcustard @shrimpsthings @dark-angel-is-back @sherala007 @amelia307 @anyaspidergirl-blog @jotink78 @rachel1959 @saltwater-in-the-afternoon @linasofia @justfollowtheroad @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @yourqueenunderthemountain @reblogunderthemountain @guardianofrivendell @elrawienthewhite @xmly-xo @tschrist1
@nelleedraws @beenovel @vee-vee-writes @mcchiberry
May I bother you and ask what headcanons do you have about Bard and his family? 😌👀
Of course you can! :D I'm assuming you mean within the metal AU?
-The family start a little vegetable garden in the back. Both him and the kids are covered in dirt at the end of it and he doesn't even mind. He hasn't felt this happy and laughed this much in years. Bofur just makes everything fun.
-Even though she's not his biological daughter, Sigrid is the one who takes after Bofur musically and even "borrows" one of his guitars which just becomes her's permanently. She goes through a rebellious punk phase which adds another layer of grey hair to Bard's temple but teenagers gonna teenager.
-Bard is stressed because of work and time constraints. Bofur is stressed because of his neurodivergence. They both help each other with their concerns and are less stressed as a result. Much snuggling is had every night.
-Bard is SUPER protective of Bofur. Like, to the extent where he'll be mean to whoever is hurtful towards him. Bofur is cheerful and always sees the best in people, so there's always going to be people who try to take advantage of that and Bard sees through it. You know how snarky Bard is in the films? Imagine that tenfold when someone is shitty to people he loves.
-Bofur secretly cries when Sigrid leaves home for college. She takes the guitar with her.
-That blonde guy at Whole Foods keeps hitting on Bard until he sees the Bowman kissing a scruffy, dorky metalhead outside of work one day and he's horrified and storms off in a huff because HE'S rich and clean cut and how dare Bard prefer short, hairy men with funny hats. He takes it as a *personal* insult. (this one I stole from @alienfuckeronmain).
-When Bard and Bofur are old and grey and creaky, and the kids have left home, they sit on the porch on Saturdays blasting Motorhead and Helloween and the neighbours hate them. They've become those "loud old men with no respect for anyone" but in actuality they're just both slightly deaf.
It might be his neck, Bard though, watching Bofur bent over an old guitar, strumming along happily, lost to the world in the most beautiful way.
Of course, that thought led him to contemplate Bofur’s shoulders, round and full beneath the old t-shirt, and no less deserving of praise.
The mugs of tea grew cold in his hands as his eyes roamed Bofur’s back, journeying down his arms and taking a small mental detour to wonder whether he’d ever found someone’s elbows enticing before.
Bofur’s smoky voice filled the small bedroom with snatches of half-remembered lyrics, bits of disconnected poetry that settled in Bard’s soul like the caresses of tiny moth wings. His fingers moved with dexterousness Bard knew all too well; the guitar’s strings were not the only ones Bofur’s clever touch could make sing.
And yet his eyes returned to the space where Bofur’s hair parted, revealing pale kissable skin stretched over the first bump of his spine, perfectly revealed by the sectioned off braids; clearly the work of his youngest, but the pink butterfly hair tie contrasting the black shirt made no difference.
Moving further into the room he set the mugs on the nearest surface, forgetting their existence in the next moment.
Putting one knee on the bed, he smiled when Bofur continued to play, prowling towards his unwitting – or cooperating – prey on hands and knees.
Lips against the warm skin produced a single false note, but Bofur gamely continued playing for his pleasure.
Bard grinned.
“Sing for me,” he murmured, setting about finding the spots that would best interrupt the music.
“Yer a heap o trouble, Bard,” Bofur gasped at a particularly pleasant kiss.
“Sing,” Bard admonished, moving just far enough away that his breath would wash teasingly over Bofur’s neck.
Bofur sang, soft words made softer by sighs of pleasure until the clever fingers abandoned the guitar for other pursuits entirely.
On the desk, two mugs steamed gently, cooling to the sound of sighs of pleasure.
for @theresonlyzuul, I hope this cheers you just a little
