༯ synopsis : Ethan, a lonely mechanic, never expected that a simple encounter with a red-haired customer would awaken fragments of a life he didn't remember living. Now, Kili, haunted by memories that seem too real to be dreams, finds himself driven to find the people he once called family.
His only hope lies in a tiny newspaper ad.
༯ tags : fluff and angst; found family; reincarnation au; kili fell in love at first sight again; thorin's company; family dynamic;
Hiiii. It's my birthday today and uhm, I would like to request a Fili imagine. Can't really come up with a prompt idea! My description can be done based on the profile pic. The pronouns are her/she. NSFW is fine too 😳 Please please pleeeeease. Love youuuu and your writing byyye
This took so so so long but uh, better late than never amiright? Happy belated birthday!
I used the prompt you gave me in DM <3 I hope the theme is okay.
Contains the act of voyeurism. NSFW.
Napping in one of the cozy chairs by the crown prince's fireplace hadn't been the plan, but ended up being exactly what you needed. Not only did you feel uncharacteristically rested, it you had also just scored the jackpot. You knew it was wrong, not saying anything, keeping quiet for the last few seconds as you watched him.
Not because of some of the usual mischief plotted, no, because when he entered he was already pulling clothes off his body, a sweet sigh leaving his lips, obviously relieved to be back. His bracers are already off and thrown on a bench by the entrance. Boots kicked off while he starts tearing at straps, buckles and laces keeping his heavy leather cuirass in place. It doesn't take him long, before he's practically throwing it on a table and he lets out a sound you can only describe as bliss.
Your heart is beating in your throat, if he turns around you're visible, though not obvious. It's wrong, you think, this is bad, you think. But you don't move, you barely breathe and you watch as the shirt he's wearing drapes over the bench, the belt buckle holding his trousers jostling as he makes quick and efficient work of it, each item followed with a sound you decide you really like coming from him. Just the passage of air from his mouth and yet it warms something down in your belly.
The belt is drawn through loops and is thrown at the bench, barely missing its mark and clattering to the ground. It doesn't startle him, as his trousers are already past his knees, his drawers pulled down with them. But it startles you and your hand knocks into the side of the armrest, a dull thud that most people would've missed.
But not Fíli, no, he's rigid now, bare-assed towards you and you're frozen, for a single second in time before he swivels his head around, and searching the chair for a second before focussing on you as he recognized your presence.
You hold your breath, a million thoughts racing through your head on how to get out of this but-
"Oh Mahal, it's you." And there it is, that stupid sigh of relief and you press your legs together, beginning to realise you're not unbothered.
He doesn't say any more, instead still frozen, still surprised he stares at you searching your eyes and, you see him go through the stages as you desperately think of something to say, any way to explain this, if you could even get a word out at all.
First confusion, then curiosity as he looks at your position, obviously having been asleep, curled in a blanket by the fire on a big cozy chair. Then... the inevitable embarrassment and his cheeks colored, something you rarely see and despite the panic, you manage to file it away for memory.
"How...long were you awake?" He asks carefully, as he seems to realise he's still exposing his behind and pulling his trousers up awkwardly. "Actually, rather... How long were you...watching?" One of his stupid braided lips turning upwards in that tiny smug smirk of his.
You flush, bright red, it takes but a second to happen and you bring your hands to face to hide it. The shame and embarrassment heavy as your heart still tries to beat through your chest.
He laughs, actually, turning to face you, trousers held up with one hand, the other pulling his hair out of his face. "So, I take it you were enjoying the show then?"
He makes a point of letting go of his trousers, and your eyes are glued on the edge as it drops a couple inches, dangerously low on his hips. Loose and slipping and it seems to slow and catch on- oh. It slows, pauses for a bit and then the weight of the fabric overcomes it's swelling obstacle and glides down his thighs.
He's grinning and you squeak, hands uncovering the eyes and coming to cover your mouth as your eyes go from his crotch to his eyes and back and up and back down as he steps out the puddled piece of clothing, gesturing at you. "Well, I think it's your turn now, you pervert."
Fandom: The Hobbit
Pairing: Kili x dwarf!reader
Genres: fluff
Words: 1.540
Summary: Kili is secretly admiring you since the beginning of the quest. One evening, after teaching the Company kick-boxing, you stumble upon a great discovery - requested by Anonymous.
Fortunately, although Thorin wished to move as fast as possible, you somehow manager to convince him that the break is needed. The Company was going quick and you all were keen to arrive at Erebor swiftly, however the journey started to take its toll on all of you.
You were accustomed to hardship. As the only dwarrowdam among your sibling you had to learn how to fight and protect yourself as soon as possible. Your brothers taught you well and let you use them as practice bags.
You loved adventures and travelling so in one small town you saw something called kick boxing. The men were not convinced that “a tiny lady” like yourself should be learning it but you were fast to assure them that you could handle it.
And you surely did.
Offering your services as a kind of protector and Oin’s apprentice, you persuaded Thorin to join him in no time. He needed as much help as he could get.
Also, once in a while you were training the boys much to their excitement.
“Y/N,” Fili calls as you help Bofur seeting up the camp for tonight.
“Yes?”
“Will you train us after supper? I wonder if I can win this time!”
“You tell this every time and yet the lass beats you. Aren’t you sick of gettin’ your arse kicked?” Bofur jests, winking at you. He doubted your skills once. You proved him wrong as you sent him to the ground in a blink of an eye.
“No! I will not have my arse kicked tonight!”
“We shall see, Fili…” you muse and the golden haired dwarf frowns.
“So it’s a yes?”
“It’s a yes. Challenge accepted.”
________
“Kili, if you don’t make a move tonight, I will harm you, I swear. I can’t allow to be beaten again.”
“Oh, so you’re ashamed that Y/N is better than you?”
“No! And she’s not better than me! She just knows this kick-boxing more than I!”
“Right, Fili. I will do something. I promise.”
“You already promised like a hundred times. I don’t believe you,” Fili glares at his brother and shakes his head.
“What?” Kili glances at you from the other end of the camp. You chat with Oin, pointing at some herbs in his hands. On Kili’s face a smile appears, fond and warm.
“Mahal, you’re hopeless…”
“Fili!”
“Don’t deny it, little brother.”
“I know…” Kili sighs. “I’m just scared she would reject me. And then I would have to deal with laughs and mocking for the rest of the journey. The rest would not let it go…”
“Or maybe you wouldn’t have to deal with all that. I think Y/N likes you. You might have a chance. A small one, but still…”
Kili nods. Fili’s right. It’s time for a move.
_________
“Alright, little lion. Your turn!” you taunt as Fili takes off his jacket and vest.
“No need to be harsh, Y/N. You’ve already taken down Nori, Dwalin and Thorin.”
“And I’m about to take down you as well. Ready?”
“Aye!”
You take a position, waiting for Fili’s move. You’ve learnt that he, just as the most of the members of the Company, is restless and has little patience. Except for
Thorin. There were time when he out waited you easily.
Fili starts to round you but you remain unaffected. He’s predictable – most likely he will pretend to advance at you, but you are prepared.
As he nears you, you turn around and kick him lightly on left knee. He loses balance but quickly gathers himself.
You hear a cheer from the rest. You look at them quickly but much to your surprise there is no sight of Kili among them.
Weird, usually he’s in the first row, clapping loudly at your every little success.
You focus on Fili. Maybe Kili got bored? He’s full of energy yet he never attempted to fight with you, although he always watches. Once or twice you caught his gaze outside of trainings and you must admit it was flattering.
Even though you would never dream of being Kili’s love interest. Yes, you may have a crush on him. Yes, he’s nice and funny and kind and sweet, but he is a prince and you’re only Oin’s apprentice and very good at kick-boxing. You doubted Thorin would approve…
“Ouch!” you exclaim as Fili’s leg lands on your right arm, kicking you out of stupor. You let down your guard and he used it perfectly.
“Oh, no, Y/N…” Fili mumbles but you wave a hand.
“It’s fine. Good job. But I think the training’s over.”
“Sure, right.”
“I’m gonna take a bath. No peeking!” you announce loudly as you grab your towel and head towards a lake in the forest.
What’s happening to you? You never allowed your feelings or side-thoughts break your focus during trainings. You hoped he’d watch as you finally won with Dwalin. Sure, he saw how good you were, how Fili or Thorin never managed to beat you but it was nice to know he would be there to witness.
You wanted to impress him. Over and over again, so he could think that you’re worth.
“No, no, no, I can’t…”
You stop in your tracks. There a distant voice coming from your right but you cannot see anybody. Obviously, you will not start calling out because there is a chance that it’s nobody from the Company.
Quiet as a mouse, you tiptoe your way towards the noise.
“Y/N…” your heart stops for a moment and you’re sure you’ve been spotted. But the voice continues.
“You’re an amazing lass… no, a dwarrowdam, that’s better,” the unknown talker clears his throat and you manage to sneak closer.
Your eyes widen as you recognize Kili. His back is turned at you and as of now he hasn’t noticed you yet. But what is he doing?
“I was wondering if you would… ah, Kili, be more brave! I would be happy, well, sure I would if she said yes… oh I’m rambling…” he moans and tugs on a sleeve of his jacket. He is evidently struggling with something.
And you, you have yet to connect the dots…
“How do I say it? I like you? It’s not good enough… or, I would like to ask you if you’d allow me to court you? Y/N’s special, I need to do more than that…”
And then, it hits you. Kili is practicing for you…
You gasp, loud enough for Kili to abruptly turn and look around.
“Fili, is that you?!”
You hide behind a tree and put a hand over your mouth. Should you go to him and most likely cause him terrible embarrassment? Or should you pretend like you’re not here and try to withdraw? But then again, you were supposed to take a bath, the boys would figure out something’s not right and start asking questions…
“Fee, come out! I know Y/N kicked your arse and you’re mad at me, but I can’t do it! I don’t know what to tell her…”
You close your eyes and take a deep breath. Go out or go away?
Kili groans quietly and you realize that he feels exactly like you. Insecure, not good enough, confused.
Well, why dwell on this when you can go and fix it?
You step out from the tree and call out his name.
Kili freezes, his face pale, his eye wide and gaze terrified.
You try to smile but you know it doesn’t look great or reassuring.
“Ho-how much did you hear?” Kili stutters, blinking rapidly, not knowing where to look.
“Uhm…”
“Nevermind, I’ll just go and hide under a rock or something…”
“No! Please, stay!”
“Why?” he asks with his brows knitted.
“There’s something I wanted to tell you.”
“Oh, okay.”
“I, uhm… I like you, too,” you manage to mumble as you glance at Kili shyly.
At first, he’s obviously surprised. In his wildest dreams, he never thought you would say this. Of course, he hoped for it, but still – he was more prepared for rejection than for reciprocation.
“Really?!” he lets out, beaming with joy.
“Yes, Kili, really. I just thought you didn’t like me that way.”
“Oh, I do! I very much like you, Y/N! You’re so wonderful, strong and wise,” he takes a few steps towards you so he could face you. Slowly, he takes your hand in his still shaking palms. “You’re my dream gal. And I would be very honored if you allowed me to court you.”
You smile fondly at him as you nod your head.
“I allow, Kili. A thousand times yes from me.”
Without second thoughts, Kili wraps his arms around you, rises you a little and sways around, laughing loudly. You start to giggle and swat his arm.
“Put me down, I’m getting dizzy!”
“Alright. Now, I reckon you were going for a bath.”
“True.”
“Mind if I keep an eye so nobody comes peeking?”
“I mind. I’d rather you join me.”
“Oh, that I like more, Y/N.”
“I bet you do,” taking his hand, you start leading the way to the lake.
Obviously, announcing your courtship can wait. After all, firstly you need to have a little celebration with your dwarf.
Hello! Could I get a Ship for Lotr and the Hobbit please? I'm an Autistic Girl and an avid artist who draws, writes, paints, carves wood and bone and also speaks Irish Gaelige. I'm quite chaotic, but also very intelligent, kind and even kind of witty, though I can be very stubborn and aloof at times too. I'm a follower of Apollo, an INFP Gryffinclaw Aquarius, and am very interested in astronomy, folklore, fantasy, history and art. I'm also very short with glasses and fluffy brown hair. Thanks!
forgive me for how long I’ve been gone. I’ve been through some rough stuff lately.
100% Kíli
He’d adore you, love to watch you do whatever you’re doing. Loves watching you create things, maybe have you teach him so you can do it together. He’d love that.
“Where are you taking us?” You asking him, looking down at the hand around yours, dragging you through the dry leaves on the forest floor. It must’ve been a couple minutes now and he hadn’t shown any sign of slowing down. Why was he still even holding your hand?
“Almost.” He said, not turning back. He sounded off, anxious and you worried that something was wrong and you pulled back.
“Tell me what’s wrong?” You asked, stopping in your tracks, his hand still around yours.
He spins around and looks lost for a second, a million expressions seem to flit over his face as if he’s deciding on which one. Finally he lands on embarrassment and he looks down at your joined hand.
“Nothing’s...wrong. Not necessarily. I, uh... well. I was going to tell you, no... Show you something. But also tell you something. Both of those, both show and tell you a thing. A thing I haven’t told you.” His fingers feel a bit clammy now and you wonder what’s on his mind for him to be this nervous. Always cocky, arrogant Kíli, lost for words looking like he just got reprimanded by his uncle.
“And why do we have to be in the middle of the forest?” You ask.
“Well, that! It turned out it was a little bit farther than I recalled but there’s a nice place up ahead that I thought would be a good place but... Oh, what am I doing. Can... Shall I just tell you?” He’s looking down again and you squeeze his hand, nudging him a bit.
“Yes. Please. I’m kind of dying to know now.” He smiles nervously and starts rummaging in his pocket with his free hand, pulling a small black parcel out. It’s wrapped with nice velvet fabric and a blue ribbon tying it together. It looks out of place in his hands, wrapped with rags and furs on his arms. He holds it out to you, and you reflexively take it from him. He releases your other hand and puts his own together nervously as you inspect the parcel.
“I wanted... I wanted to show my...appreciation. For you.” He whispered, almost. It felt a bit surreal. You couldn’t help the smile growing on your face, a small blush probably appearing. You weren’t used to Kíli acting like this and it made you a little nervous. He wasn’t acting like his usual friendly self. He seemed... He seemed... Was it okay to hope?
“Are you going to open it?” He asks, impossibly even softer than before and you realise you’ve just been starting at the parcel and start to untie the ribbon.
“Sorry! I was .. Thank you. I was just surprised, is all.” The velvet falls away to reveal a small, white bead. You inspect it, noticing it was made by him himself. You’d taught him after all, how to carve the bone. You could tell. It was beautiful. How do such rough hands make such delicate things?
“Will you wear it? For me?” He asks, he sounds bolder now that you’ve opened to package and are inspecting the bead with a smile. “Or.. I mean... Will you accept it?”
“Accept it? Of course, it’s ... a gift, right? Why wouldn’t I?” You cock your head to the side.
He laughs, unexpectedly and he sighs right after it.
“I.. I should probably explain. This is a bead. That I made ... for you... to wear... Uh... If you want, that is, in your hair. To...” He trails off but you wait, breath bated for him to continue, hope burning brighter now.
“To show that you are my betrothed. If you will have me. Please say you will have me.” They tumble out of his mouth, as if he was scared he wouldn’t say them if he didn’t just then and his face is tight, eyes burning with insecurity and you burst alive. Butterflies erupting in your stomach as the realization of what he just said hits you.
“Is...Is this real?” You breathe at him, “You...you want me? As your...” You look down at the bead, the curves in the design, the hollow center and realise it goes on a braid, snippets of culture you’d learned over the last months coming together. “Yes. Yes, I’ll have you. Please, let me have you.” They come from you just as quick and you both stare at eachother in speechless silence. Both processing what just occurred, neither of you expecting how this outing went but both hearts beats together, excited, full of anticipation.
It takes a second longer for you to break after him when his awed face cracks into the bright and open grinning Kíli you know and adore and his arms are around you before you know it. A small whoop leaves him as he can’t contain his joy and you can’t seem to contain it either.
My very first attempt at a drabble on here. Please let me know what you think!
I AM TAKING REQUESTS!!! Send me anons with a prompt/imagine, your description and ship. I will do Thorin, Fili, Kili, Legolas and Thranduil for now!
Unless you specify your gender/preferred pronouns or what you would like to be described as (for NSFW, which I would love to do as well), I will write it gender neutral for I find that there is not nearly enough for us guys or NB peeps.
Thick fingers in your hair, pulling it away from your face slowly, gently. A low hum surrounds you, originating from his chest, making something in yours vibrate with emotion, every small touch his fingertips make when they brush your temples sending small shocks down your spine.
The intimacy of the moment isn't anything you're used to but you indulge him, sitting wrapped in furs in front of the fireplace. It's been several days now that the battle has been won, and both of you are still tired, still sore and still grieving for those lost in the fight.
Somehow through some miracle, perhaps fate or destiny, each and every single one of your friends lived to see the aftermath, though their eyes now shine less, darkness lingering behind them and you cannot wait to see it lift in the years to come.
When you followed your king and his nephews out of the Blue Mountains that day never did you once imagine you would end up here, Durin's heir braiding your hair for you, affection and hope for a future with him filling your chest. Your eyes are closed as you are seated facing the fire, the warmth of it making you glow from inside, the furs hot against your skin where it is bared from under white linen covering your torso. Continuing to listen to him humming a random melody as he works, you are almost overcome with it, the significance of this act, the two of you hidden away from the others, a secret to be shared in the morning when you emerge together.
It's been long overdue, the tension between you both rising over the course of the journey, stolen moments of almost. When he helps you up, his hand clutching your forearm as you rise to his side, holding on to you to steady you a second too long. A clap of camaraderie on your shoulder that turns into something just barely more when he touches his forehead to yours briefly, eyes open and burning as he grins in the revelry of another fight survived and his eyes flicker to your mouth. You know he is thinking the same thing as you and you also know that it is not a good idea. Not then.
But now, the worst is behind you and during the feast of earlier this night, his eyes would find yours often, raising his tankard in unison with you, eyes bright despite the exhaustion of a long day's work. Thorin had insisted on helping the wounded and organizing the encampments before any sort of celebration would take place. Kílí and Fílí had thrown fits, the both of them. You smile at the memory of their disappointed faces when Thorin had thrown his orders around. Of course, you had all felt it but had known the wisdom behind them as well and relented.
Your body hot, not yet from desire, but the fire roaring not just in the fireplace. In your heart, and his. So much to be said, so much to be confessed but neither of you have spoken much this evening. After the feast he had downed his ale and bee-lined to you as you had prepared to leave. The others too drunk to notice but for some reason, the both of you had not partaken quite that much. You wonder now if both of you had been planning this or at least expected it unconsciously. His hand had found yours for the first time, not clutching your arm or shoulder as usual, but warm palm shifting against yours and when you had looked at his eyes you knew this was it, a moment you had been waiting for finally arriving. Saw him giving in to the attraction and you had smiled. confidently or shyly, you can’t remember, but you were squeezing his hand and followed him silently to the room you sit in now, knees drawn to your chest, a thin blanket over your shoulders and furs covering your legs.
You don't open your eyes until his humming stops and his fingers move from your hair to your neck, brushing the intricate braids to one shoulder, his chin finding the others and you lean to him, bumping your temple to his and you hear him whisper it for the first time.
"Amrâlimê." A small kiss to your cheek, the braids and beads in his mustache tickling your jaw.
"And you mine, Fílí." And you turn to him then, hands finding and framing his handsome, tired face. His eyes are soft, softer than you've ever seen them and your heart soars at the thought that you did that. You kiss him once, twice and then you know you cannot wait any longer. Your gaze flickers to the bed and back to him and he grins. The wretched boy grins.
Do you take Ship requests? If so, could I get one for The Hobbit & Lotr? I'm a Bisexual Girl, an INFP, Autistic, Aquarius, Artist and Witch. I'm very introverted, incredibly chaotic and strange, and also intelligent, witty, existential, gentle, curious, creative and very determined. I'm very short and kind of dress like a Goth. I love cryptids, folklore, death and burial rituals, d&d, fantasy, literature, history and witchcraft/the occult. I draw, write, hoard books and cool knives. Thanks!
Yes I do!! You sound awesome pls be my frend. I am new to this, my first ship! It kinda turned into a small fic but I hope you like it!!!!! My imagination kinda went wild.
I ship you with Legolas. Now hear me out...
He’s an elf and people think he doesn’t show his emotions but we all know that’s not true. He’s just a bit...different about it.
When you first meet him, it’s a bit scary. He’s a prince, an elf and devastatingly beautiful. But as you get to know him during the first weeks of travel, you start to realise that that’s not all, he’s just as witty as you, his tongue sharp and you find yourself smiling to yourself as he quips back and forth with the surly dwarf Gimli. You don’t notice him noticing you then, though. He’s surprised by it, that he likes to make you smile and their banter becomes unstoppable, Legolas initiating most of it. And then he starts to include you. Asking you for confirmation when he slights Gimli, smiling devilishly. Or slowing to come to walk beside you and points out when Pippin’s trousers have a rip in the back, exposing his drawers and you both chuckle secretively, sharing jokes.
When the jokes turn to conversation, it’s about legends and myths and you trade them with fervor, drinking in all the knowledge and stories he’s heard in all his years. He enjoys telling you these tales and stories, seeing your eyes light up, spelling words or placenames in the Elven tongue for you when you take notes.
Maybe one night you’ll all be gathered around the fire and the atmosphere is friendly, everyone fine for now, settling nicely into comraderie despite some of the heartbreak and tragedy of the journey so far. You’ll have pulled out your notebook, one of the few ‘unnecessary’ items you allowed yourself to lug around Middle Earth. And you draw him, fine lines of a relaxed brow, his eyes closed as he sits by the fire, hair neat as always (How does he do it? You never see him comb it...). Until you find yourself staring, sketch half forgotten and you’re taking in his features, realising not for the first or last time how beautiful he is. Deep in thought, you wander, imagine sitting next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder, to reach and touch his hair. Trace a finger over the sharp point of his ear so different from yours.
You didn’t notice his eyes opening and finding yours until you become very aware that he is smiling, and staring, at you. You flush, caught and you reprimand yourself as you bring your gaze back to your notebook. Probably won’t finish that sketch.
-
Days later you find yourself in a similar situation, he’s there again, on the other side of the fire, talking low with Aragorn. His posture is similar and you decide to finish that drawing after all, taking some liberties with the lighting. You’re almost finished, shading some last details along the line of his lips when the notebook disappears from your sight and you hear Merry’s gasp of delight. He praises you loudly, drawing the attention of your companions. You stand now, protesting and trying to chase the damn Hobbit down but the notebook is being passed now from Hobbit to Hobbit, even Sam and Frodo joining in on admiring your work. You hope he hadn’t noticed and you turn, to check and of course... He’s already looking, and so is Aragorn. And Gandalf. Who is now standing behind a happily smiling Pippin as he holds the notebook and plucks it from his grasp. His eyes twinkle a bit as he looks, then finds your gaze.
You glare. Trying to threaten the wizard with...whatever. It doesn’t work and the smirks. Damn that meddling old man. He turns to Legolas who is now curiously regarding the goings on. His hands find the battered book, he’s held it often before as you shared stories with him but this time his eyes are wide with wonder, hands gentler as he almost cradles the paper in his hands. Your pulse is quick now, what will he say? Will he like it? Will he ask why?
His gaze raises from the book, then lowers back to your face and he smiles. Really, really smiles. Bright and open and you know you’re screwed now, this stupid crush now burning in your belly, flame fanned by his words.
“Thank you. It is an honor.” It’s all he says but you glow with it. You hadn’t meant for him to see it, anyone, really. But this, this is worth it.
“May... May I have it?” His question is hesitant but his smile remains and so does his gaze in yours. You think about it for a second, rue to give up your work but decide his smile is worth many pages of your work. You watch him deftly remove the page from its binding and folding it gently in some fabric before it disappears in his pack.
The book is returned to you and his fingers graze yours, lingering for a moment before he dips his head and gives you another small smile that does nothing to calm you and you all return to your seats, conversation starting up again, and some finding their way to your through the night to comment on your skill and of course some noisy Hobbits request their own portraits.
They are denied.
-
It’s another few days later when he finds you away from the group, sitting on a log in a small outcropping, notebook on your lap, re-reading some of your notes. He had approached you silently and you startle when he greets you.
You’re pretty sure by his smirk that he had intended to do so. Stupid haughty prince. But you forgive him easily as he sits comfortably next to you and peers at your notes.
“I wanted to thank you again, for your portrait. You are very skilled at your craft. I had thought your work with the pen was for word, not art.”
You dip your head in thanks and mutter the same.
“It’s alright to take pride in it. You are talented.” He is smiling again and you hope that the realisation that he only smiles this way at you is real and not a figment of your imagination.
“I wanted to repay your gift. Even if I did ask to have it.” He looks sheepish for a moment before procuring a cloth wrapped item from inside his robe and places it in your outstretched palm. It’s heavier than it looks and you place it on your notebook, unraveling the dark brown weave. A beautiful elven dagger lays before you, small blue stones reminiscent of his eyes adorn the handle. You find his eyes and you see him look hesitant, unsure. It’s not a look you’re used to seeing on him.
But despite that, you feel a surge of happiness within you. A gift. Such a beautiful gift. He had seen your drawing of him worthy of being repaid so and you grin up at him. Toothy and eyes crinkling and you can’t control it or stop it.
“Thank you. It is an honor.” You repeat his words from that night back to him and his grin suddenly matches yours.
“Shall I teach you how to use it?” He’s still smiling and he stands as you place your book on the log next to you, one hand clutching the dagger, the other reaching for his outstretched hand. Warmth grows on your cheeks as his fingers wrap around yours when he pulls you up and does not relinquish them.
@cassiabaggins requested a first kiss between Fíli and her oc Cassia Baggins via ask.
Unfortunately I am an idiot and clicked answer privately before I was done (or had even put the writing in it!) so I’m doing it like this!
I hope I did okay! This is from Fíli’s POV-ish due to it being someone else’s OC and limited experience writing female POV.
I enjoyed doing this a lot, though! So without further ado...
This time, Thorin had sent only Cassia and Fíli out for the firewood, Kíli having been directed to tending it while the others set about other menial tasks around the campsite, some setting up their rolls to grab some sleep so they could take watch later during the night.
He's grateful though, to have some moments alone with her again. Even better, this time he could actually look at her. From the corners of his eyes as they're both slowly making their way through the underbrush picking up appropriate sized pieces of kindling. Watching the way her pigtails bob as she walks.
"Why does Kíli get to sit on his butt but we have to do chores?!" Cassie huffs, rearranging the growing pile of sticks in her arms after adding a new couple in.
"The alternative would be him here causing some sort of trouble. Plus I think Uncle still thinks he did something to cause you to cut your hair." Fíli responds with a slant to his mouth and a chuckle, coming up to stand closer to Cassia, reaching over to brush a leaf off her shoulder.
"Well, then he should send Kíli to get the wood and let me sit by the fire."
"What about me?"
"You can go with Kíli, of course!" She grins.
"A grievous wound you inflict upon me, lass." They start walking side by side together, circling around the camp, both their arms full but neither wanting to return yet.
"Oh, don't be dramatic. Hmm. I'll consider letting you sit with me by this hypothetical fire if you teach me more about Dwarven hair customs. Kíli mentioned many things before."
"Hmm? Oh, aye. Our hair is a source of pride for my people. The longer it is, the fuller your beard, the more handsome a dwarrow is considered."
"Really? Are you considered handsome, then?" She asks with a grin on her face, a coy look thrown at him over the pile of sticks.
"I don't know, you tell me? As a lass, I think you are more suited to decide." The counter only makes her grin grow and he can't stop his own spreading on his face.
"Well... I'll get back to you on that after you've told me more! How can I decide without only half the information!"
"I'm afraid the rest is all about customs around courting, so I'll have to insist upon that answer, lassie."
She turns to him then, expression first indignant, then mischievous.
"Hum! I suppose, with the knowledge I've been given I can confirm you're... not bad." The grin is back on her face and he barks out a laugh despite himself.
"Not bad, she says! How will I ever recover from this?!" He cries, but he feels warmth at her words anyway. Not bad's not bad.
"I guess I could help you figure out some more fancy designs for your moustache!" She offers, not knowing what it means but he hasn't the heart to bring it up now, not when the thought makes something in his gut soar.
"I doubt that will heal the hole you have torn in my ego!" He replies.
"What would you have me do, kiss it better?"
"Yes. I would." He's said it before he thought it through but now that it's out of his mouth, he's committed and stops, steeling his face to look serious though he can't keep all of his smile at bay.
"Oh." She's stopped too now, looking speechless for the first time since he's met her. It doesn't last long. She's dropped the sticks and taken a step towards him before it registers and he does the same, throwing them to the side and meeting her in the middle.
He pauses, as does she, when he enters her space, it lasts but a heartbeat before one of her small hands is on his beard, and both of his are on her waist as he leans down, not having to wait long for her to press her lips up to meet his, tip-toeing up as far as her proud hobbit feet allow.
He can't be sure yet, it'll take some more tries, but it seems that kisses do wonders for an ego.
