Yellow Dandelions ('A single, yellow dandelion' part two)
(Kíli Durin x Female Reader)
(Not my gifs, credit goes to the creators)
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Part One
Requested by: many
Requests: Open
Fandom: The Hobbit Trilogy
Request: By the request of many, part two to 'A single, yellow dandelion'.
Warnings: Angst (yummy), mentions of injury/gore, love confession, happy ending, mentions of character death, Kíli lives, mention of: grief, war, and gore. Misunderstanding trope (short lived, as all this occurs over a week max).
Words: 6.7k (my longest one so far)
Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction, the scenarios, the reader, and the dialogue are all mine.
This should only be found on my blog.
Author is always me on this blog @daydreams-magic01-mrsdurin .
A/N: Please do not copy or plagiarise this, or put it in your own book, etc. It should only be found here. Also, please mention if I should make a taglist and if you wanted to be added. I also tried by best at being British.
Please note, this is the first thing I have properly written since 2022.
PLEASE READ: So this is the first thing I have properly written in like three years, I tried really hard, and I think it ends their story well as an ending to part one. I didn't know how to finish this, and after throwing around some ideas, I figured this was best. I didn't want to skip anything, we all know how clumsy, and stressed we all get when upset, how our entire behaviour can change whilst wounded. How when one thing goes wrong it becomes a chain reaction. I tried to immerse us, as if it happened in real life, no quick fix, the reader isn't perfect with their reactions.
I am very nervous I will disappoint. I put a LOT of time and effort into this, I am proud of it but very nervous no one will like it. I apologies for the long wait. Ah, I am so scared right now, pahaha. I feel like I did such a great job with part one, but that was more cheerier, this is more about what comes after, how a person can change by having their feelings hurt when upset. I also can't stand the misunderstanding trope existing for longer then necessary, I love me some misunderstanding drama but not when it gets annoying. I did a lot of proof reading many times, even had someone read my work I am so nervous, haha. I haven't watched The Hobbit in a while, and I haven't written in even longer. I hope you all enjoy. AHHHHH.
Thank you.
:)
By the way, (y/r) stands for your race, whether a Hobbit, Dwarf, etc.
FYI, just tagging you guys in as you previously asked for a a part two, feel no pressure to read:)
Taglist: @cherry-c0laa, @piastris-pastries, @missihart23, @waluigis-wang, @dopedreamobject, @falconfeather23435, @buzzing-honeybee, @fluffytriceratops, @that-deuteragonist-life, @firework187, @tachibubu, @sweetxime.
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He never did come after her. Of course, she didn’t go back either. (Y/n) couldn’t breathe, and not in the way she cannot around Kíli, this hurt, even more so than it did when the older Prince of Erebor confronted her. She had not headed to her chambers, instead she ran for the city, hoping that after a day or so of running she will be lost forever and never have to face anyone. Such a pleasant idea, to hide away from prying eyes, and never disappoint anyone ever again, lest herself.
Of course, when one’s body is shaking, and the throat is quivering, swelling, and the nose is blocking, you cannot run for long. So, she headed upwards and dived in the armoury next to the Mountain’s main entrance. A terrible idea, as that very day Bard would come with a preposition, Thranduil in tow, and this would be one of the armouries the Company search in.
An hour after the door thunks to a slow close behind her, and she began her hiding between stalls off shields, does it open again.
Gasping, she slaps her hand to her mouth, eyes wide as her other arm tightens it’s hold around her knees. The Dwarf is humming to himself, his heavy boots hitting the floor as he slowly makes his way through the main room of the armoury, to the secondary chamber where she is hidden. (Y/n) utters thanks to the Gods in her head when the footsteps go to the opposite side, where the short swords are.
Curiosity gets the best of her, and she cannot help but move her palms to press against the cold stone beneath her so she may gently push herself up with her fingers. Of course, as much as everyone praised her dress, apparently it has turned against her just like Kíli. (She knows she is in the wrong, but still). The sole of her boot catches on it before she releases, causing her knees to get pulled down just as she goes to stand, and she trips. As she is tripping whilst knelt down, she falls forward, and her hands catch her just as her nose hits the stone. A cry rips from her.
A sword clatters, Óin having been inspecting them to see how they had fared against time with no use. He may be deaf, but he is a healer, and he can sense these things. He has also attuned himself to listen out for his loved one’s pain as well as he can with his worsening hearing.
“(Y/n)? Lassie, are you alr-”
A cry of fury cuts him off as he hurries over to her. He grabs his wonderful tool from his belt and presses the end to his ear, as his other hand goes to her back.
(Y/n) is most certainly having a terrible day. Ignoring the itching embarrassment, her almost destroyed pride, and her wrenching heart, she pushes herself up and turns onto her knees, flashing the smile he had become so accustomed to. “Yes, Óin. I'm sorry for disrupting you. Please go on, I will take care of myself.”
He frowns, angling the horn better towards her, the hand that followed her goes to gently hold her chin. His hand is rough, no doubt from decades of swordsmanship, and gathering prickly herbs, yet his touch is so gentle she can barely feel him. “You took a nasty fall there, lass. Let me take care of you.”
She shakes her head, cheeks flushing an even darker shade of red that spreads to her chest, and the tip of her ears. Oh, how her cheeks burn. “No, please, I assure you, it is a simple knock -.”
Óin, having tucked away his horn shakes his head, “this isn’t your home lassie, we need to treat you now.” Gently he places a hand on either side of her waist and helps lift her up as if she were his daughter, his brow deeply furrowed. “You’re bleeding.”
Oh. (Y/n), preoccupied in her deep flushed cheeks, and searing nose failed to notice the blood dripping down her lip into her mouth. Óin quickly plugs up her nose with a scratchy handkerchief – more of a rag – and she wipes her teeth with her tongue. Metallic.
Ironic, as she is basically in a giant mine, she thinks to herself.
Her eyes are once again weeping, despite having run out of tears ten minutes ago. She doesn’t register Óin leading her out of the rooms and back into the main passage as she touches her own face in shock. How foolish of her.
Foolish. The perfect word. Foolish for not realising braiding was an offer of courtship. Foolish for courting Kíli before telling him how she felt. Foolish for giving him her precious bead. Foolish for taking signs of courtship as simple kindness. Wait. Who could blame her? Bilbo made her tea all the time, and the Company were always hunting for meat. Perhaps one should state their intentions. Ori had bought her flowers when she was sad during her most recent moon bleed, yes Kíli looked at him funny, but he was being kind. Furthermore, where were the courtship walks? The promenading? She did not bear witness in it, nor partake.
Yet, she is still foolish. Foolish for letting Fíli tell him first. Foolish for hiding in a place next to the Gate in which the Company are taking turns patrolling. Foolish for crying over a member of the opposite sex. Equally foolish for being nosey, not watching where her hem is, and tripping. (Y/n) has learnt to fight, defend herself, something she is quite good at, and she is especially foolish for allowing her first big bleed of the journey be by falling face first into the floor.
The heart will heal but the humiliation shall forever linger.
~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy: Author is always me on this blog @daydreams-magic01-mrsdurin ~~~~~~~~~~~~
How long has passed? An hour? Prince Kíli is yet to move from his place against the wall. The only part him which moves is his left hand, as he plays with his Runestone. He did not cry, the tears trapped in his eyes, they sting. He cannot take his eyes away from it, the single yellow dandelion on the floor. It mocks him.
Was (Y/n) mocking him? No. (Y/n) is as kind as she is beautiful. He tries to replay the argument, but all he can remember is the anguish he felt, her face as she spoke, the hands on her hips. Angry. Acting as if one verbalises their feelings when actions are sweeter. Surely his actions proved enough that he was at least attempting to court her as she did not realise, they already were in courtship. Hunting. Gifts. Touch. Were these not signs enough?
He is foolish. Foolish indeed.
“Good evening, Kíli – oh, Kíli what is wrong?” His eyes snap upwards to their kind Burglar clad in his waistcoat and blazer. Worriedly, he bends down, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. They had dropped formalities a while ago, they are friends. Yet, Kíli knows Master Baggins must have known (Y/n) and her feelings. That fact alone stings.
“Nothing,” the prince forces his familiar smirk, pushing himself up from the floor and wall, “what brings you here Master Burglar?” He frowns. “Is everything well? My uncle? My brother?” For the first time since he watched (Y/n) walk away his heartbeat quickens from the previous slow drawl. Surely the Men of Dale aren’t attacking? Bard is a good man. Kind. With a kind family. No. That is not Bard’s way. Perhaps the elves? His lip curls at the idea of Thranduil. Legolas and Tauriel were kind enough, though he has a suspicion they are acting alone.
“No, Kíli, nothing like that.” Bilbo states, the familiar look of constant mild distress on his face as he too stands, gazing up at the Dwarf. “Are you sure everything is fine? You can tell me anything.”
Wrong. He can only talk to his big brother about this. The sentiment is kind, however. He shakes his head, smiling, his left hand playing with his mother’s runestone. He wanted to gift this to (Y/n), a promise, a promise like the one he etched into that dagger. His heart jolts, and his cheeks quiver as he forces away the frown. How foolish of him to think he could ever pass it down to their child.
“Well, uh. Watch. Ah, yes. That’s it,” the Hobbit suddenly smiles, and straightens, swinging back and forth on his heels, “Bofur sent me down to remind you that it’s your watch next. Only because when they brought over lunch, Bifur apparently mentioned that no one had seen you for three or so hours.”
Watch, of course. His turn tonight, without his brother. That conversation would have to wait. So will the tears he so desperately needs to shed, he daren’t weep and have to explain to Dwalin how foolish and naive he is.
“Thank you, Master Baggins,” he smiles down to him, “I shall bid you a good night.” He bows deep, his hair swinging behind him when he stands tall again.
The Hobbit’s brow remains furrowed. “Yes, thank you. Good night – I mean –” the Dwarf prince begins to walk away, but Bilbo jogs after him, scrambling with his words, “thank you, Kíli, but there is food waiting for you, Bombur kept a portion aside I believe, another for (Y/n) –”
That forces him to stop. Even if he wanted to move, his legs would not allow it. He turns to the Hobbit, who almost walks past him, placing a grounding hand on Bilbo’s arm.”
“(Y/n) has not eaten?”
“- so no need to bid goodnight, yet Kíli. We are headed to the same destination – wait.” Bilbo almost seems to grow in height as his gaze hardens almost to a glare, and his shoulders square, Kíli’s hand falls. “We all thought (Y/n) came to see you?”
Kíli has to turn away as the flashes of their exchange course through his mind. He almost feels shame. Why?
“Oh well,” the Hobbit chuckles charmingly, “she must have gone back with Fíli when her break finished and missed us.” He pats him on his shoulder before continuing on. “I did see her heading back inside the Mountain before she meant to find you, must have spent most of her time out there, not enough time to come see you. That makes sense.”
The dandelion. He jolts, making the poor Hobbit lean away. Before Bilbo can say anything, Kíli runs back to where he was sat, and gently kneels to pick up the dandelion. Soft. He wonders if her skin truly feels as soft as it looks. Not that he will ever know. It must do, compared to his hands, the hands of a workman.
He runs back to the curious Hobbit who keeps glancing back to him as they walk. Yet the prince cannot take his eyes off that single, yellow Dandelion. Alike the one he gave her, except fresh whereas he imagines the one he gave her is since long dead. She must have searched hard for the flower.
How foolish of him to think a fine, ethereal being as her could ever like him. He cannot shake the memory, of how she looked when he was dying, as Tauriel healed her. She looked – well, he cannot think any gods of any race compare. He hopes the memory never fades. Let it be the last he sees before departing. How foolish of him. For he is the Dwarf with no proper beard. The Dwarf taller than most. The Dwarf who looks more like he is of Men compared to his brother, cousins and friends. He is foolish. He has no people, yet. He isn’t even heir. How foolish of him to think – to believe otherwise.
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Nodding along to herself, (Y/n) fails to notice the kind Dwarf lead her to the chamber they all mingle in together – when they are not searching for the Arkenstone. The gasps of outrage and worry hit her first as Bifur, Nori, Dori and Balin crowd her. They all mutter questions about how this happened. As if it were more likely Men came down to take Erebor in the past hour with the watchmen missing it, all with the purpose of targeting her first.
“Stop crowding the lass. Bifur release her.” Óin almost shouts, horn against his ear. The other Dwarf grumbles in his mother tongue as he gently releases her from his chest where he had been cradling her side.
The other three step back, revealing the space between them. She doesn’t hear them. How can she? The second her eyes meet her Prince’s the world goes silent, until all she can hear is her own breath, and the thumping of her heartbeat in her nose.
As if this whole situation cannot get worse. Now he can clearly tell she was crying, tripped over herself and face planted.
It hasn’t been long since she last saw him, yet it feels like it’s been years. His eyes soften, as he takes in her appearance, his brow creases in worry, his hands clench. “What happened?”
He does not meet her eyes, but she tries. His cheeks aren’t stained like hers. Of course not, he is a Prince. Better offers than her. She told him she ‘can’t believe she wanted to marry him’, and he said nothing. Well, beforehand he said he wanted to marry her, but not anymore.
She looks away, and grins at everyone, and laughs, “hem got stuck, tripped over and face planted. The Elves skill is unmatched, but it isn’t worthy for searching the for the Arkenstone in.”
“Don’t worry lass Bofur will fix you up, and Nori can sew the rip,” Dori states, patting his brother on the back.
“What? Why can’t you do it? You’ve got far more years of prac–” Nori gasps, baffled, although his chest does puff proudly at the idea of doing it.
“Because your keen eye for the treasures of this world has made you more detail orientated,” Balin jokes, though his brow remains creased. Dori nods along, Bifur and he thump his younger brother again, almost knocking him to the ground, whilst Nori squares his shoulder, grinning proudly as he grounds himself.
“Have no fear, Miss (Y/n), for Nori is here.”
It does make her laugh, and Kíli preens at the sound from afar.
“Excuse me, excuse me,” the familiar distressed tone of Bilbo interrupts as he makes his way between Bifur and Balin, “let me look at her.” He stops in front of her, hands on her arms as his frown deepens. “This won’t do. It doesn’t look broken, thankfully.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy: Author is always me on this blog @daydreams-magic01-mrsdurin ~~~~~~~~~~~~
It had been a dramatic few days, no doubt, and dramatic several months more so. Of course, it will only get worse. Besides the constant ache in (Y/n)’s chest, there is a much larger issue. The Arkenstone.
It could not be found.
This has to be the worst week of (Y/n)’s life, and she was almost eaten by Goblins a couple months ago, not to mention then later imprisoned by the Mirkwood King. Although, admittedly, the cell was quite hygienic.
After her humiliation in the Armoury, their dear healer had cleaned her nose and stopped the bleeding. It’ll be red and hurt for a few more days, but no fracture. A relief, a small grace. She changed into her travelling dress, which was thankfully calf length, and had bathed. However, Bard had come in alliance with King Thranduil against them, but she cannot feel betrayed. Thorin made a promise, that must be kept.
She does not hesitate to follow Bilbo after seeing him sneak away during a break to find relief. Hurt at first, when Bilbo had explained she soon followed him.
After all, by then the entire Company knew the complete story of (Y/n) and Kíli, or at least his side from his brother. Thorin deemed her unworthy of a prince anyway in his dragon sickness, Nori was annoyed at her, Ori too, Dori was understanding somewhat, Balin understood her side, Dwalin too, Bifur, Bombur and Bofur did too but the last three remained on Kíli’s side. Glóin thought Kíli should have been clearer, the only one to speak out, due to his experience with the love of his life (his wife, although his son was also a love of his life). Fíli at least had the courtesy to look sheepish. It currently stood only Glóin, and Bilbo were on her side, Balin and Dwalin neither with everyone else on his. Óin sympathised, but still thought Kíli clear with his gifts, and letting her touch his hair. Understandable in (Y/n)’s eyes, touch is intimate. Still, it did not change the fact that he rejected her the first few times, making her think touch wasn’t intimate like with her own people, and he did not like her at first, and that the gifts after were Kíli being himself. Kíli is so kind, so gentle. Honestly, (Y/n) had not thought herself special enough to consider a Prince was courting her. Or perhaps she is stupid. She has always struggled with social cues.
Óin had told her to take the dagger off her side, it would give the wrong idea. (Y/n) told him, she told Kíli she had wanted to marry him before their dispute, and the prince did nothing to remedy that. The healer suggested Kíli did not hear her, (Y/n) had said maybe Óin could share his horn then.
Currently, she lies on a set up bed opposite Bilbo. That rat from Dale is meant to keep an eye on them. Why should they be punished? Bilbo has kindly offered them a negotiable item; the Company aren’t going to hurt them. If you had asked her ten days ago, she would have said the King Under the Mountain would never hurt them either – now she wasn’t so sure. Like Bilbo she is fiercely loyal to the entire Company, but King Thorin is in the wrong.
Sleep cannot find her, and she knows Bilbo well, he has a plan of escape brewing no doubt. She finds herself entertaining herself by pretending her fingers are people and making them converse and perform dramatic scenarios. Then she recreates her argument with Kíli, using far better comebacks, and delivering her point far better.
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“Where were you last night?”
(Y/n) jumps and yelps before turning around. Handsome. Kíli has always been the definition of that word and always will be. Her heart skips, a heat curling low in her belly. Now, he looked like a prince. An armoured one with no helmet, despite the high likelihood of an arrow in the head, a Prince.
Kíli has armour over his chainmail, ready to defend his Kingdom. (Y/n) despite her hurt cannot look away, it somehow highlights his hair, his skin tone, everything. Her face feels hot. (Y/n) has armour on also, though they could not find any women’s able to fit her chest due to altered bust size, so instead she wears men’s armour which at least pushes everything down. Bofur had spent an hour panicking, and dotting over her as he altered the straps to fit her, they dotted over Bilbo too. (Y/n) had previously shot Azog in his right eye after the Goblins, and he had accidentally pulled out the eye with the arrow, so they knew that she could handle herself against some Elves and Men, still everyone dotted over each other. It is what happens when a King decides to invite all his cousins on an adventure, and his closest friends.
“On a walk around the halls with Bilbo.” His brow furrows at her excuse. “Why do you care?”. It is still dark outside; the others are risen but keeping to themselves until just before sunrise. In truth (Y/n) and Bilbo had only returned an hour ago.
“You know why I care.” His gaze is soft, his eyes earnest, it hurts to look into them. She swallows the lump in her throat, and Kíli cannot stop his own gaze from drifting down to her neck to where it is then protected.
“I thought those feelings are gone.”
He flinches, gaze flying up, “what?” He whispers. He had spent all night worried about the attack, then worried she had been taken, and she truly deemed his feelings gone? How? “How can you say that to me?”
“You said it not me,” (Y/n) squares her shoulders, staring fiercely up to him.
Kíli was wounded, no doubt about that, but he is grown, not a child. He must make it clear, and they must talk through it. However, before he can, the passage begins to fill with voices, tearing away his gaze. Before he can stop himself, his gloved hand gently takes her own, causing (Y/n)’s breath to get stuck in her throat. He tries to ignore the heat spreading from her hand to his, and up his arm, “after this. After my uncle gives the people of Dale what he owes, I will find you.” The King, his uncle is a good person, he will do what is right, that he is sure off.
Her heart stutters at that, and despite her heart ache she finds herself biting her lip, fighting a smile. The prince notices and doesn’t try to hide his own smile at that.
How is it this dwarf can burn away her fury with a smile?
How is it this (y/r) can make his pain vanish with one look?
For a second both can only feel peace, as they gaze into one another.
(Y/n) gives a gentle nod.
~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy: Author is always me on this blog @daydreams-magic01-mrsdurin ~~~~~~~~~~~~
King Thorin did not give the people of Dale what he owes. Instead at the revelation of Bilbo’s betrayal he tried to kill him, Kíli and his family having to intervene. Then, of course, Thranduil had to knock the Dwarves down as much as he can. So, he jested that they could not even trust the future bride of one of their own Prince’s. Of course, Thorin had pulled out his sword, and both his nephews fought him off as she ran for the rope.
Is it truly betrayal if the one being betrayed has lost the plot?
Well, yes, and (Y/n) did not take that lightly, same as Bilbo. Of course, Thorin refused to accept it, War went to unfold with his cousin’s appeared forces, until Azog’s armies decided to make an appearance.
Kíli had been confused, and distraught at the revelation of the betrayal from the two, but he understood, which makes him feel like he was the one who betrayed his uncle.
In the end, Thorin fought the sickness, and the Dwarves joined the battle. (Y/n) fought bravely, taking down enemies, counting how many. Much to the bewilderment of others, she and Glóin had previously started a competition some point in the journey for count of kills, and with this battle, she is now leading. Hopefully.
When she saw Thorin, and the princes go up the mountain, she did not hesitate to follow. Kíli a kind and gentle soul did not hesitate to defend Tauriel, attempting to save her. By the time (Y/n) arrived, Fíli was dead, Thorin fighting Azog.
Bolg, the ugliest Orc ever, went to stab Kíli through the heart. Of course, he never got the chance as (Y/n) threw herself onto his head (she’s not stupid, you would need more than two people to kill that monster), making him stumble, Kíli in one hand, until he walked to the edge, and knocked she, Tauriel, Kíli, and himself off the edge. Legolas got the kill in the end, Kíli was still injured, his leg stabbed.
This brings (Y/n) to the present. Four days after Azog’s demise. Four days since the death of sweet Fíli, and King Thorin. Dáin, and Thranduil had both bought healers with their armies, and were unafraid to share them amongst their allies, thankfully. Like the rest of the company, she had paid respects at the bodies, unable to find Kíli, the last she saw of him being when she handed him away. He’d whispered things, similar to when he was poisoned, but this time she knew some words, such as Amrâlimê.
After everything, their argument seemed silly, she shouldn’t have stormed off, and he should have listened to her. Funny, what feelings can do to someone.
What should she do next? Return home?
What ever chance she had with Mister Kíli before, without a doubt has vanished. For he is The King Under the Mountain, there will be plenty of dwarf-women with luscious beads a Dwarf like him should prefer.
If Kíli could hear her thoughts, he would most certainly ask her if she was well. Clearly, he should have been more verbal with his desires. For three days – after spending a night and day unconscious – he has been dealing with logistics, future plans, funeral plans, and alliances with those who helped protect the mountain. Never, was he supposed to be King, Fíli was.
The reminder of his name pulls hard at his heart, and he has to clutch it in order to try and breath again. Why him? Why does he live?
Of course, he knows his Amrâlimê made it so, but why would Aulë allow it? Surely, he was the least qualified, immature.
He had barely been given an hour with his brother and uncle alone. Is he not King? Can he not deem where his time is spent? He has since reunited with the rest of the Company but finds himself watching (Y/n) from afar. Did she feel as he felt? Unable to breath when away from her? Unable to see the true beauty of the emerald Erebor without her by his side?
His entire life he has waited to go to Erebor, but now the Kingdom feels predatory, as if Smaug is still here, without his brother, uncle and mother by his side.
He watches her, clad in a fresh linen shirt, and trousers. He tries to stop his eyes from lingering on her body, having only seen her in dresses. Her hair is twisted in an updo. No ribbon today, making him frown. She must have lost it in the battle. He must scour the battlefield for it. (Y/n) prefers it to the clasps and ties currently in her hair. She has clearly put on the first clothes given to her, yet he finds himself unable to look away. He has never seen such a beauty, Mithril can barely compare to her.
She helps as she helps an injured Dwarf walk with a stick for the first time. So gentle, so kind.
He cannot look away from her, cannot fight the urge to be with her, consume her.
“Blimey. It’s like waiting for the market to open three hours early,” the voice startles him. Bilbo. “Stop watching her like some sort of criminal and talk to her.”
He faces the Hobbit, “sorry?”
Bilbo looks quite the definition of unamused. “We’re not blind, you know?”
“Exactly!” The voice of Ori yelps from afar, once again, the Company present are clearly watching their favourite play. A yelp soon follows as Dori clips him over the head, making Nori bellow a laugh.
“Look,” Bilbo says, placing a hand on his back as he turns them away, “it is true, you should have asked her to court you, not presumed. She doesn’t know all about your culture, you know? There aren’t many books on it, your people are quite secretive.” Kíli nods, proud of his people’s privacy. “I know she has feelings for you; I saw that dandelion you leapt after. Now is the time, sweet Dwarf to go and make your intentions known.”
Kíli stops walking, biting his lip as he turns to his friend, “I don't know. There has just been a ba-”
“- Before she leaves.” Bilbo interrupts him, sighing, nodding slowly as he turns to stare at the ground wistfully.
“What?!” Kíli shouts, causing everyone to turn to look at him quizzically, including (Y/n). “Nothing to see here.” They all quickly avert their gaze, except (Y/n) who lingers. “What do you mean she’s leaving?” He whispers, eyes trying to meet the Halfling’s who fails to look up from the floor.
“Well, she can’t stay forever, she has a life. Perhaps you can send her share of the treasure via courier?” Bilbo fights hard to fight of a smirk, which continues to succeed.
“A life?” Kíli looks distraught. He will be in her life, not matter what. He inhales, nodding as he straightens his back, sharpening his posture. He puffs out the chest, “I will talk to her. Apologise.”
“Good on you,” Bibo lets himself grin as the young Dwarf turns on his heel, and begins to limp over to her.
He’s doing it. He is doing it! HE IS DOING IT!
“Excuse me, my King –“
He is not doing it.
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It is only that evening is the King spare, having allocated supplies and food for the time being. Kíli’s easy smile falls to his face as he hobbles along to the new chambers delegated to his lady. Of course, if she accepted his offer her chambers will be far finer.
His knocks are firm, and within a minute (Y/n) opens the door, a flash of heat hits his body from the fireplace. His bow is deep, and he grins as he rises, then his smile falls. She is glad in a nightgown, a spare hide pulled around her shoulders. He gasps, quickly averting his eyes to her face as his cheeks redden, and he swallows the lump in his throat.
Her mouth opens in a gentle ‘oh’, her cheeks also flushing. Good, Kíli thinks to himself, having some hope she is as mad for him, as he is she.
“I have come to apologise. I told you I’d find you.” He smirks, trying not to watch as she fixes her grip on her makeshift shawl.
“You told me you’d find me.” She gently repeats, the cold of the stonework seeping through her thick socks.
“I apologise for the time; this is my first moment alone. But I was foolish, you are undressed, and I apologise -”
She cuts him off with a gentle laugh, it tugs at his heart, his arm twitching as he fights to stop it from clutching his heart. “Don’t be daft, Mister – My King, you have seen me in worser conditions on our adventure.”
He has not. She always had layers over her nightgown due to propriety and the temperature. In fact, he is certain she did not wear a nightgown, instead underclothes like men underneath another dress she wore for the evening. A dress not of white cotton, thin material.
She steps aside to let him in, and he bows in thanks, making her laugh. “A King should not bow.”
He turns to her, eyes firm, serious, making her cheeks flush harsher, “I will always bow to you.”
Oh my. Now her cheeks burn, she can feel it radiating, the muscles in her face hurt from smiling as she swallows, the warmth spreading through her.
“Oh.”
“First I wish to thank you for saving -,” one hand remains on his stick, grounding him, the other fumbling behind his back when she cuts him off.
Her mouth is set in a line, eyes firm, commanding as she shakes her head, shutting the door behind him, “don’t be so bloody ridiculous. I wasn’t going to just let you die.”
“No. No. Of course not, what I mean, is –,” the flush on his face and neck spreads to his ears, and down his arms, staining his skin pink.
“Ever.”
Blimey. Kíli nods to himself, unable to take his eyes from hers no matter how much he wishes to look away to gather himself.
“But you are welcome,” (Y/n) grins at him, teasing him. Blimey. He loves it.
“Thank you,” his easy smirk attempts to fight the flush on his face, “secondly – I. I know I am in the wrong. I shouldn’t have expected you to know our rituals, I should have asked you –”
“Wait, Kíli –” She shakes her head, reaching out a hand to stop him, but he cuts her off.
“Please, let me finish,” she nods, and he takes a gulp of air, “I shouldn’t have said what I did either. My pride was wounded; I should have listened to you.” She nods as he speaks, not in agreement but in earnest, to show she is listening. “I should have asked you, I thought you were asking me, but still, I am the Dwarf. I should have noticed how easily you kept asking to braid my hair, that you didn't know the meaning. I'm sorry.”
It is late, she was on the brink of sleep, and despite planning the conversation in her head the past week, she did not imagine it to occur like this. Here the King stands in her chambers, late at night, clad in similar wear to his journey, yet to step into fully into his reign. The crown he has donned the last few days is not here. He is here as Kíli, she realises, not as the second in line after Fíli, nor as the King. Kíli. With so long to stew in her anger, and humiliation, all that is left is her hurt, her vulnerability.
His eyes are soft, so soft, yet they attempt to strip back the layers of her soul as they gaze into her eyes, “the truth is – I was upset. I thought finally someone finds me... attractive. And not just anyone, you, the only one amongst Dwarves, a Halfling and a Wizard. The longer we spent together, the more I enjoyed your presence, then when we began to what I thought was courting, I could not consider being away from you.” He gasps for air again, watching as sweet (Y/n) clutches her chest.
“Please, please, just forgive me.” He almost whispers, lips parting dutifully as his earnestness in his eyes grows, “when Fíli told me the truth I was furious at him, even more so you. Still, I should have never spoken to my brother and you as I did. Especially you, when our relat – our friendship could not mend as easily. I didn't listen to you.”
So much more he wishes to say, yet he finds himself unable to, not when her lips part again, so eager to speak before she does.
“Oh Kíli,” his eyes clench shut for a second, unable to take how it sounds on her lips, “I should have noticed, especially with your most recent gift.” He fights back a flinch as he remembers how it looked to see her without it; how much it hurt when she took it off. All his own doing. “The truth is, I never thought you, as wonderful, as kind as you are… could ever fancy me.” His brows furrow at that. Does she not realise her beauty rivals the rarest jewel? “When you let me braid your hair, I enjoyed it far more than I should have. I was confused by your sudden change of character, thought you finally thought of me as a member of this company. When Fíli told me I was shocked and horrified I had been courting you without showing how I felt. I was shocked at finding myself courting anyone, this is my first time, you see.” Kíli fights back an evil thought of ‘good’ at the idea of (Y/n) never courting anyone beforehand. “When you confronted me, I was angry, angry you were playing victim, when I felt it was I who was fooled. You should have asked me to court you, but I also should have asked about the braiding and the looks the company were giving us. When you said you couldn’t believe you had ever wished to marry me, I was wounded and angry, that is why I said it back. I was angry, so angry, which is why I fled, why I cried, why I stupidly tripped over myself and hit my nose, and why I was even angrier at you for not crying when I came in with Óin.”
The smile that begun to grow, the hope in his chest falls. “I did this to you?” He whispers, heart breaking and before he can stop him self the hand behind his back moves to gently cup her cheek. He stops himself from actually touching her, thankfully, merely hovering. Under no circumstances would he ever wish to make her uncomfortable. “D-does it still hurt?” He gulps.
She shakes her head, brows softening, eyes as soft and as deep as a spring. Before she can stop herself, she clasps her own hand over his, placing it against her cheek. She does not move her hand, and both try to ignore the swarming butterflies in their bellies.
In truth her pain had long since faded, par when she touches it harshly, which she has learned not to do.
“Oh, my dear Kíli, I did this. My clumsiness,” she lets out a breathless laugh, “you would never hurt me, and never could. I’d kill you if you ever did.”
They both laugh at that.
“My world… my world has ended,” Kíli admits, “my brother is gone.” He clenches his eyes shut, head tilting up to the ceiling ever so slightly, and her own eyes begin to well at the memory, of her own friendship, but the tears that slip from her are for his pain. “My uncle, my King, killed. My mother is far away, I -,” he opens his eyes, letting his tears fall loose as he looks down to her, “I should want to die. I do, but not as much as I should.” She gasps at the idea of him ever dying, the pain too much and before she can stop her urge, she places her other hand on his chest, over his heart. “I know I have a duty, I know I should live for those we have lost. I want to make them proud – I-I do.” His voice cracks at that, “I confess, I am holding on that bit more because I know you are still here, on this plain. That somewhere, no matter where you are, you will be happy. And that happiness makes me happy. I wish to bare witness to it, to your happiness, everyone’s, but mostly yours.”
“Oh Kíli.”
His forehead tilts to meet her own, causing their breath to get caught in their throats, as their eyes shut closed. For a second, they stay like that, not moving, not touching further.
“I confess, my feelings remain unchanged. I must know if you accept my apology, you owe nothing else.”
Her eyes drift open, unable able to tear from his closed ones. “Oh Kíli, not matter how mad at you I am, I could never stop loving you.”
He gasps, eyes flying open, meeting hers. “O-oh.”
“I accept your apology, if you accept mine.”
“There is no need for me to, Amrâlimê. You did nothing wrong. I was the fool.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy: Author is always me on this blog @daydreams-magic01-mrsdurin ~~~~~~~~~~~~
As much as the King wanted to marry her, he needed time to grieve, and (Y/n) to sort her affairs. So, seven moons later he proposed marriage, she accepted and four moons later they were married.
Oh, how glorious. How glorious indeed.
They only waited so long so Bilbo could attend, which he did.
Also, (Y/n) had to wait for the finest craftsman to make her headpiece. A gorgeous tiara, instead of spikes, gorgeous yellow dandelions spaced apart, and dripping down from each an array of jewels resting against her forehead. When Kíli saw the tiara, he’d never smiled so wide, and his cheeks were already aching, his lips feelings as if they would tear.
It was a wonderful ceremony, and an even better lifetime they spent together.
Amongst other things on their wedding night, Kíli presented her with a gorgeous bead, yet to take out the one she gifted him the year prior, and the two of them braided each others hair.
~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Guys, lowkey I have a great fanfic idea across the movies, about an abomination female character (half dwarf/half hobbit) and our favourite prince, lowkey little enemies vibes, etc. I don't know, though. Ah. I would have to post it on Ao3 too, of course. Though, I do not have an account.
