#thoughts (every unfiltered thought that comes out of my brain) ~ #uquiz (uquizzes) ~ #desi (Bollywood and desi related stuff) ~ #ladyansswers (asks that I've answered) ~ #tlab (to see posts related to my Thorin x OC story)
not unfollowing a mutual who hasnt posted in 9 months out of loyalty and love like a widow still setting a place at the dinner table for her husband who died in the war
we don’t talk abt how stressful buying new glasses frames is. ur shopping for your whole personality there. life on the line. do or die. all for two pieces of glass and some sticks
people who comment on fics just to say that they are re-reading and still cried/felt emotions/loved it are the greatest people on earth and should be given a thousand dollars.
addition: people who comment on fics to say that they are not even in this fandom and didn’t know the characters at all but read it anyway and loved it are also the greatest people on earth and should also be given a thousand dollars.
Hello there! Did you really think I wouldn't participate in this ask game? Well, here I am, and of course, this is about Thorin😂 😈
One thing about myself: I love books, and more importantly, I love talking about books with just about anyone (as if you didn't know that lol)! Basically I'm just a bid old nerd who wants some cuddles while reading together.
I'm a sucker for forbidden love (again, shocker, right?) but this time let's go with friends to lovers. Gimme all the fluff!
And my chosen au is the au that's not actually an au because we all know the Durins survived, aka everybody lives au!
Why hello there, stranger! 💙 Did you really think I'd forget about your ask? Not a chance!
First of all...
(Sorry about the delay though. The heatwave is killing me.)
And now, let's get down to business 🥳🎈🎁
This is both the Imagine Ask Game imagine (💞 - Friends to Lovers with Thorin) and my newest fic for the Armitage Summer Splash event so I hope you'll excuse me the almost-a-fic-but-a-bit-like-an-imagine general style of the story.
WEEK 4 - PROMPT 28
Here are the tarot cards for your ask:
And here is the prompt:
WEEK 4 - PROMPT 28
Trope: Dream
Quote: “Let’s skip to the good part.”
Image: link
Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield x Dwarf OFC (The Hobbit)
Rating: G
Wordcount: 4165
You can find this fic on AO3.
Khuzdul:
Amrâlimê - my love
Dream Come True
Smaug was dead and Erebor was being restored. Leaving Ered Luin and moving to your homeland was like stepping into a fairy tale. You were born in exile, but your grandmother told you many amazing tales about the true home of your clan. When the time came and Thorin Oakenshield reclaimed the Lonely Mountain, you and your family joined a caravan and headed east.
When you arrived in Erebor, you instantly fell in love with the place. It was even better than your grandmother’s stories. Luckily, your family’s old home wasn’t overly damaged, so you started your new life fairly quickly after moving back in.
As a serious book-lover, you had one dream: to become a librarian. Since your grandmother used to be one of the librarians under the Mountain back in her day, she had taught you all you needed to know to become one. She was too old to return to her former work, but her recommendation along with your earlier work experience in a cosy little bookshop in the Blue Mountains made it possible for you to work at the Great Library of Erebor.
In the beginning, the job meant mostly cleaning up the mess Smaug left and trying to rescue the damaged books or at least copy their content before their frail parchment pages perished forever. You often stayed up late at night, trying to decipher faded runes on the yellowed pages of yet another ancient volume, but it was worth it. So what if half of the time you actually spent on reading books instead of mending or sorting them? You had always made sure to finish the most urgent tasks before treating yourself to another chapter of “Brok The Barbarian” or “The Wuthering Red Mountains” or “The Haunted Manor of Mirkwood”. Well, almost. Sometimes Mistress Gudrun, the head librarian, would find you surrounded by a heap of books you had been sorting all morning with one of them in your lap as you devoured its contents. It was completely not your fault. That book simply happened to open of its own accord—by accident—on a very interesting page. Mistress Gudrun would shake her head with a chuckle and then leave you be. She knew you were one of the most passionate of her apprentices, even if rather easily distracted. But some things could not be helped. Besides, you reminded her of her younger self a little bit.
One night you were still at the library, finishing the task of cataloguing the “Art of War” section when you heard a suspicious noise. A sound of a door being unlocked and opened. And it was not just any door – it was the side door that was only used by the staff to enter and leave the library at any time through a conveniently placed tunnel. It even had a sign: “NO UNAUTHORISED PERSONNEL”.
Then you heard slow, heavy steps. They didn’t sound like any of your colleagues’ steps. What if it was a thief?! You grabbed the heaviest tome you could find and stalked towards that door. In the flickering light of the library lamps, you saw a shadow of a movement ahead of you. Without thinking, you gathered your courage and attacked the supposed burglar with the leather-bound tome. That would teach them not to steal!
The book hit something hard. You heard an “Oof!” and then your priceless weapon was torn out of your hands before you could react. You blinked and your mouth fell open at the large silhouette in front of you. In the faint light you saw none other than your king, the legendary Thorin II Oakenshield. You recognized him, of course, you’d seen him in the Blue Mountains many times before, but never from such a close distance. He stood there, tall and proud, with his dark locks majestically flowing down his shoulders… and massaged his arm with a frown on his face.
“Do you assault all the visitors who come here to read?” he uttered an irritated growl.
You swallowed. You had just attacked your king. You hoped that the infamous dungeons of Erebor weren’t as full of hungry giant cave rats as the rumours said. After muttering apologies to your king, you explained the situation and, to your surprise, heard his explanation in turn. He was in need of some light reading after a long day and this entrance to the library was the closest one to the royal chambers. And, of course, he had the key. He was the king of this mountain, after all!
It was your lucky day: he didn’t imprison you or hang for treason and instead you offered him a few books that would make good evening reads. He took them gladly, even “The Crucible”, one of your favourites, a lighthearted story about a Dwarf, an abysmal cook, who tried to make the perfect stew for his three beloved wives. Don’t judge, okay? Culinary novels are an important element of dwarven literature!
This was how your friendship started. Yours and the king’s, not yours and that stew’s of course. Thorin and you bonded over the written word and he became a frequent late evening visitor in the library. Since then, you spent many hours – or even whole nights – discussing the stories you had both read or criticising the authors who wrote too much angst and not enough fluff. And sometimes, you would simply talk about anything and everything.
Thorin appreciated these visits more than you knew. Even if he spent a tiring day with his advisors, he knew that he’d find you in the library in the evening. With you, he could forget about his duties for a short while and enjoy both your quick wit and your charming smile. You helped him rekindle his old love for books, something he hadn’t had the chance to enjoy much when Erebor was lost. But now it was different. He reclaimed his kingdom, his people were safe, and he was finally able to find some time for leisure. So he spent it with someone he learned to appreciate and admire. You. The person with whom he could be himself. Someone who wasn’t an advisor, nor a sparring partner, nor a courtier. Someone who didn’t want to get into his good graces just because he was a king; who didn’t expect favours nor special treatment. Someone he had been thinking of as his close friend for a while now.
One day Dis approached her brother and discreetly let him know that there were rumours of him having a dalliance with a mysterious lover. Apparently, someone saw Thorin sneaking out of the royal wing late at night; someone else saw him returning shortly before dawn, and several nobles commented on the shadows under his eyes when he arrived at the morning council meetings. Some even wondered whether Thorin acted dishonourably, having trysts with an unsuspecting young lady, but not courting her openly. Or worse – what if he seduced multiple innocent maidens under everyone’s nose?! Was that conduct worthy of a king?!
“Preposterous!” Thorin exclaimed. In anger, he told Dis what he had been doing and whom he was meeting. She replied, “I suspected as much. I can see that she makes you happy and it fills my heart with warmth. Have you told her of your feelings yet?”
Thorin had no idea what his sister meant. You were his good friend, nothing more! But then Dis told him that he should stop acting like an empty-headed mountain troll. She reminded him that she was not blind and spoke about all the little glances he cast at you when he thought no one was looking. Or about that meeting at the marketplace the other day when you both stood in the middle of a crowd together, oblivious of your surroundings, passionately discussing the ending of a book you had both recently finished. Oh, and the fact that he would rather spend nights in the library than sleep in his own, comfortable bed spoke volumes, too. And what about that tiny issue of him rejecting every single suggestion of marriage she or Balin proposed?
Thorin started seriously thinking about what Dis said. Was it possible that something more than friendship blossomed between you? He recalled the way you smiled at him whenever he appeared in the library. He remembered the reluctance with which he said “good night” to you every time he had to leave. And each time he did, he saw some mysterious emotion twinkling in your bright eyes. The eyes that made him think of precious gems. And then, there was that warmth he felt deep inside. And that tingling sensation whenever your hands accidentally met.
He needed to think.
***
It had been over a week since you saw Thorin last and you started to worry. It was unlike him to disappear this way without telling you in advance that he would be busy with matters of state or that he had to leave for a diplomatic visit somewhere. As far as you knew, he was still in Erebor.
Around that time you noticed that whenever you passed through the library, people would stare at you and whisper. The elderly Master Wurf, the biggest local gossip and the chief of the fine arts section, tsk-tsked at you and told you he expected more of you.
When you asked him what he meant, he simply replied, “Do not feign innocence, young lady, it does not suit you. Have you no shame?”
Did it have anything to do with the fact that he stumbled upon you and Thorin late at night in one of the secluded areas of the library a few days before? Master Wurf refused to say anything more. In fact, he started openly avoiding you, and he was not the only one. Even your friends began treating you in a very weird way, suddenly interrupting their conversations whenever you appeared or making themselves scarce. One of them even had the audacity to ask whether you could fix them with a permanent position as a royal clerk since you had “access” to the king. He winked and chuckled when he said it, but you found nothing funny about this. Things turned even less amusing when the amount of crude remarks towards you multiplied and you even received several very improper proposals. And then one day you heard your nosy neighbour speak to her husband, “Look, that harlot is coming! I wonder how much the king pays her for…”
“Stop wagging your tongue, woman, and give me my dinner!” her spouse bellowed.
“Woman?! Woman?! After 157 years of marriage you have forgotten my name, you smelly boar?! I’ll teach you…”
The familiar sounds of their customary weekly fistfight ensued followed by their passionate exclamations of love that usually came after, but you did not hear it. You ran home, teary-eyed, and locked yourself in your room. “The king’s harlot”. Those words stung more than they should. But what hurt even more was that Thorin stopped seeing you so abruptly. In these circumstances, you came to a conclusion: he did not want to see you again. His reputation as a king was worth more to him than your quiet friendship. He did not even have the decency to speak with you in person. Perhaps you were not as close as you had thought you were. Those late night conversations, fiery discussions, private jokes you shared… all of it was gone now. You were left only with memories of those moments, of his cerulean eyes, and of that low, velvety voice speaking your name.
Now, your reputation was ruined. You could wave any hopes of finding a spouse goodbye. No one seemed to believe you, and it was probably a matter of time until Mistress Gudrun would dismiss you from the library for indecent conduct, even if it was just based on some gossip.
As you wallowed in self-pity, there was a knock on the door and before you could say “enter”, your grandmother barged into your room.
“My dear girl, are you sleeping with the king?” she asked in her charmingly blunt way, staring you straight in the eye.
“Of course not, granny!” you exclaimed. That one time when you and Thorin both dozed off late at night in the library and your head happened to rest on his very comfortable shoulder surely didn’t count! You still remembered the moment when you both woke up, staring sleepily into each other’s eyes, his lips barely inches from yours. No, that dot not count even a bit!
“What a shame,” she sighed and sat next to you with a grunt. “So all those things I hear are only unsubstantiated rumours?”
“I’m afraid so,” you reached for your handkerchief in an attempt to dry your cheeks.
“And here I was thinking that at least you had some fun!”
“Grandma, he is the king!” you gasped.
“Oh yes, he is, and he is quite a handsome one, is he not?” she grinned.
“Come on, granny! Thorin and I are just friends! He sometimes visits the library, nothing more!”
“Are you well, my dear? Your cheeks are red. You are not blushing, are you?”
“Of course I am not blushing! It is the heat, I must have put too many logs into the fireplace, that is all,” you tried your best bluff.
“If you say so, dear,” your grandma nodded, patting your hand. “Then I guess there must be some misunderstanding with that royal messenger at our door…”
“What? What? What? What are you talking about, granny?” you almost jumped up.
“A nice young fellow has just arrived with a dinner invitation for you from king Thorin,” she smiled sweetly at you. And when your grandma smiled sweetly, that was an equivalent of a shark baring his teeth.
“Tell him I’m not unavailable! I’m sick! I’ve gone to visit our relatives in the White Mountains!” you panicked.
“Truly, child? Is that the best you can do? All my teachings for nothing…” she hung her head theatrically. Our last relatives in the White Mountains moved away from there over 200 years ago during the last Orc War. Do you want the king to think that you are related to an Orc?”
“No! Granny! Oh no! I just… I don’t want to see him! Because of those horrible rumours, he’ll probably tell me that… this is the end of our… our friendship,” you sobbed while your heart raced like crazy in your chest. “I can’t… I can’t face him. Not now. I just want to be left alone until it all blows over.”
“Very well, my child,” your grandma gave you a reassuring hug. “If that is what you want, I will make it happen.”
***
You spent several peaceful days at home, taking a sick leave. Even your granny agreed that you deserved some rest. Secretly, you hoped that the rumours would soon die down and everyone would once again leave you alone. It felt strange to spend the evenings at home with your family instead of copying the old parchments and waiting for the familiar squeaking sound of the opening door, along with Thorin’s customary “Good evening”. Oh, how you longed to hear his voice once again, to sit with him and simply enjoy his presence…
Instead, two more dinner invitations came, each of them written with golden letters on the best parchment you have ever seen, but you refused them both. Those were the formal invitations from the king, not your friend Thorin, and they did not bode well.
After that, a mysterious package arrived to you with no return address. Inside, there was a rare edition of a book you have always wanted to own. There was a fresh rose sticking out from between the covers and when you opened the book at that page, you saw a note. It contained a very short and very clumsily composed poem about your eyes being compared to gems. You recognized the elegant handwriting at once. And the rune “T” at the bottom of the page.
It was not possible. It had to be a mistake. Thorin never really liked poetry. And what about that beautiful flower? And the precious book?
“Are my old eyes failing me or is this a threefold gift?” your grandma asked, putting her book away.
“Granny, we both know you have eyes like a hawk! Wait… a threefold gift?” you forgot to breathe. The rose. The poem. The book. Three pieces. Exactly like the tradition said. Oh, shoot.
“What will you send him in return?” your grandma’s tone was alarmingly casual. “You can’t keep a courting gift waiting for too long, you know…”
“That’s… I don’t plan to send him anything,” you put the beautiful gift box aside, not wanting to look at it any longer.
“Do you know when was the last time Thorin Oakenshield sent his last courting gift?” you heard your granny’s soft voice.
“I don’t,” you admitted, your throat tightening.
“The answer is: never. The whole kingdom assumed he was devoted to his craft and therefore uninterested in marriage. It seems that we all were wrong and he found someone special after all,” she mused.
“You don’t understand, granny. Thorin is an honourable dwarf. He knows about that gossip and he realises how damaging it is to my reputation so he is trying to do what he feels is right out of his sense of duty. Plus, I’d make a very bad queen…”
Your grandmother just shook her head and, to your surprise, said nothing, leaving you with your dark thoughts.
***
The next courting gift from Thorin came a week later. Another exciting book, another clumsy but sweet poem, and another flower (a daisy, as pink as your lips, as the new poem claimed). Your grandma simply looked at you from behind her half-moon spectacles but, again, did not say a word.
You put the gifts into your wardrobe with an attempt to forget about them. As tradition said, if you were not interested in the courtship, the only thing you had to do was simply not to respond to these gifts and leave them be. And that was exactly what you did. After reading the books, of course. The courting traditions did not say anything about not being allowed to reading them. That was what books were for, weren’t they?
The problem was, the third gift came a week later, another one a week after that, and then they just kept on coming. Your free wardrobe space was shrinking rapidly. Meanwhile, your granny and the royal messenger became fast friends and she even began baking her delicious cinnamon buns every Friday — because that was the day he would come with another courting gift from Thorin. At the same time, you absolutely did not feel any anticipation every Friday morning. You were not interested in empty gifts sent to you out of misplaced pity. Not at all. And yet, you still missed Thorin, your dear… friend.
***
Almost two months passed and everyone seemed to have forgotten about your alleged scandalous affair with the king — or perhaps they had simply become bored with it. The gossip mill of Erebor was now busy with another topic: the royal jeweller’s wife gave birth to twins and the rumour had it that each of the babes was supposed to have a different father. When your grandmother heard it for the first time, she laughed to tears together with the royal messenger who, along with that piece of gossip, brought you another courting gift. A brand new, illustrated copy of your favourite “The Crucible”, a touching poem with loneliness as a main theme, and a simple forget-me-not flower. Now you too had tears in your eyes.
One day you stayed at the library longer than usual, determined to finish making the inventory of the newest books that arrived from the Blue Mountains. You were so focused on the task that you hadn’t heard the characteristic squeaking sound of a particular door being opened.
“Good evening,” the rumbly, familiar voice broke the silence that surrounded you. And then you heard your own name spoken in that very special way you secretly adored.
“Thorin?” you almost jumped in surprise. He stood before you, just as he did that first time you had met here, wearing a simple dark blue tunic that emphasised his strapping figure of a warrior, his hair slightly ruffled, his temple free from the Raven Crown of Erebor, but this time there was no frown on his face. Instead, a slight smile danced on his lips. Mahal, how you had missed seeing him.
“I am glad to see you here again. May we talk?” His eyes searched your face and one look into them was enough to melt your resolve.
Your conversation started awkwardly at first. Thorin was convinced that he offended you somehow and wanted to know what he could do to make amends. He wished to understand why you refused to see him and avoided him for so long. Brimming with strong emotions, in a trembling voice you spoke of your disappointment and all the misery the rumours had caused you.
“... and when you stopped coming to the library, I thought I lost a… friend,” you finally admitted quietly, stifling a sob.
“You have never lost me. I needed to reflect on some matters in solitude, but now I know that I have failed you. I believed those rumours would harmlessly disappear. For that I am asking for your forgiveness and if it will be granted to me, I still would like to continue being your… friend, if I cannot be anything else.”
While listening to his words, you looked at your hands that somehow found themselves in his large, warm palms of a blacksmith. You discovered that you liked the feeling and the sensations that came with it. You did not want him to let go of you even if you probably should.
“And what else would you like to be?” you asked, unable to ignore the effect his closeness had on you. These were the same hands that gently picked the flowers, carefully chose the books and wrote those awkward poems for you every single week while you were apart. And the regal features of his face were now softened by a hopeful smile that reached all the way to his eyes.
“Do you remember that old parchment we once read together? The one that said: ‘Life is but a book and every day – merely a page’?” Thorin squeezed your hands gently.
“I do, but what does it have to do with you and me?”
“I would like to reopen that book with you. But not where we left off. Let us skip to the good part. Let us write new pages for as long as we live. Together. What do you say?”
“Together,” your voice wavered, “as… friends?”
Thorin’s hands moved to your arms, shoulders, then to your neck, and then cupped your face, making your breath hitch. His face was so close to yours now, your nose brushed against his. You could even feel the warmth of his breath and the softness of his hair against your cheek. As you took a deep breath, your lungs filled with that unmistakable scent of pine needles, leather, and ink. So unmistakably, reassuringly Thorin.
“No, not at all as friends,” he murmured, gently pressing his forehead against yours, and then added one little world that turned your world upside down, “Amrâlimê.”
“Do you mean it?” your eyes widened. “Truly?”
Without a word, Thorin took out a little wooden box out of his pocket. There were his and your runes carved in its cover. When he handed it to you, you took it from him and opened it. Inside, you saw an elegant mithril braid bead and a beautiful matching ring adorned with diamonds – symbols of eternal love. No Dwarf would offer such breathtaking gifts simply out of duty.
You wanted to pinch yourself when Thorin took one of your hands and placed it over his heart.
“Truly. I do not wish to only be your friend. Not any longer. I want to share my life with you, if you will have me.”
Your vocal cords refused to cooperate. All you could do was nod and wrap your arms around him, tucking your head under his bearded chin.
“Is that a ‘yes’, Amrâlimê?” Thorin whispered softly while the gentleness of his arms encircled you.
“Oh, Thorin. I didn’t dare to dream that this day would ever come. Yes.”
He took your hand into his a placed a careful kiss on the back of your palm. And then he slipped on your finger the ring he had made with his own hands during that time you were apart. When you met his gaze, the eternal diamonds shone in his eyes.
On that day you learned that some dreams do come true, after all.
💚 Like it? Love it? Reblog it! 💚
📜 Searching for more stories to read and more art to look at? 📜
📜Here is the masterlist for Week 4 of the Armitage Summer Splash event. 📜
General taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed): @fizzyxcustard @shrimpsthings @dark-angel-is-back @sherala007 @amelia307 @anyaspidergirl-blog @jotink78 @rachel1959 @saltwater-in-the-afternoon @linasofia @legolasbadass @yourqueenunderthemountain @reblogunderthemountain @guardianofrivendell @elrawienthewhite @tschrist1 @nelleedraws @beenovel @vee-vee-writes @mcchiberry @dumbassunderthemountain @errruvande @laurfilijames @emrfangirl @s0ftd3m0n @lilith15000 @kami-chan1512 @ragsweas @enchantzz @aduialel @myselfandfantasy @thewhiteladyofrohan @elliepie1226 @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @blairsanne @fckmini @clumsy-wonderland @wormsmith @mailinsblogofstuff @medusas-hairband @xxbyimm @guylty
LOTR and The Hobbit Characters Taking Care of a Chronically Ill S/O
requested by the lovely @tolkien-fantasy !
Faramir
Faramir would be caring and compassionate but also let you still run your own life. Faramir would take care of you and he’s a good cook that would make the foods that made you feel the best all the time. He knows what it’s life to struggle and be overlooked, even in a different way, and so he’d always pay attention to what you wanted. He’d be there to help you on bad days and enjoy getting to live life with you on any day, because he loved you that much.
Eowyn
Eowyn understands fighting yourself and also struggling to keep up with others. She would encourage you to push yourself but above all prioritize taking care of you. She take you on adventures and know when you needed to rest, but still be able to see the world. although make sure someone else is doing the cooking! (Eomer wouldn’t doom you to that torment)
Dwalin
Dwalin would always be there to protect and take care of you. But he’d also train you to fight, on days you were able to move well, still always watching you to make sure you were okay. Because Dwalin knows how much being independent means to you.
Fíli
As the heir to the throne, Fíli knows a lot about responsibility. But he also knows a lot about love and compassion, which is why he’s such an amazing partner for you. With Fíli you learn about the world and it’s people, sometimes spending nights curled up together with books as he asks for your advice and you learn together. He cares for you because he loves you and knows how important you are not just to him but also to Erebor (and to the elves, for without your level-headed-ness around Erebor’s crown prince negotiations would be much more difficult).
Sam
Sam fell in love with you because he could see the strength inside you, even in the body that sometimes failed you. You kept him company while he cooked and tended to his garden, sitting in your favorite chair that he’d put wheels on so that it could go wherever you did. And small, thoughtful gestures like that happened all the time with Sam. He cooked all your favorite foods just to make you happy and on your birthday every year he trimmed his garden into some sweet message.
Here is the newest Thorin Oakenshield fic for the Armitage Summer Splash event :)
Watch out for angst!
WEEK 3 - PROMPT 15
Trope: Arranged marriage
Quote: “How can you possibly think that?”
Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield x OC
Rating: G
You can find this fic on AO3.
Never
You take in the beauty of the Misty Mountains. Their perfect reflection in the water. Their silent, eternal presence.
This is supposed to be the best time of your life. You have just wedded none other than Thorin Oakenshield and now you are travelling with him to the legendary Erebor. This Dwarf is not only a great king and a brave warrior, but also an honourable person. And his looks make maidens swoon. Many would do anything in order to trade places with you, become his wife — and a queen. And you would gladly take them up on their offer. If you could have it your way, you would have married someone else.
Heavy steps interrupt your musings. Quickly, you brush away a stray tear and turn towards the sound. It is him. The one you are to call “my lord husband” from now on, whether you like it or not. You close your eyes for a moment and see the smiling face of your beloved, the one you have always dreamed of addressing lovingly as your husband. Now, you never will. You will never wake up next to him and look into his cornflower eyes. You will never see how he teaches your first child to walk. You will never kiss him again nor braid his golden hair. And you will have to withstand the torture of seeing him every day — with his new wife.
“It is time we moved out, my lady wife. If the weather is good, we may arrive at the banks of Anduin tonight,” the King Under the Mountain says. His voice is like a distant rumble of a storm.
“Of course,” you nod and start walking towards the horses and your escort.
“I know you did not wish for this marriage to happen.” His words make you stop in your tracks. “And I respect that. But it is done. I would like to assure you that I will try my best to be a good husband to you.”
That word again. Husband.
“I see,” you look at the iron toe caps of your boots.
A sea of silence grows between you. You hear his voice again. It’s oddly distant, as if he stood on the opposite shore.
“I hope that in time I can earn your respect as well. Or any other feelings beyond…”
“How can you possibly think that?” you interrupt. “Can you not see I do not love you and I never will?!”
Thorin Oakenshield, your lord husband, looks at you with a furrowed brow, making you think of an ancient sculpture chiselled by an artist. Cold and soulless.
“Are you certain, my lady? Many couples like us find…”
“Can you not see? There is no ‘us’ and there never will be! I gave my heart to Fili, not you!”
The name of the king’s nephew echoes against the granite mountain slopes long after you have left Mirrormere behind.
Riding behind your husband, you never see how that very name extinguished a spark in his eyes.
📜 Searching for more stories to read and more art to look at? 📜 📜Here is the masterlist for Week 3 of the Armitage Summer Splash event. 📜
General taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed): @fizzyxcustard @shrimpsthings @dark-angel-is-back @sherala007 @amelia307 @anyaspidergirl-blog @jotink78 @rachel1959 @saltwater-in-the-afternoon @linasofia @legolasbadass @yourqueenunderthemountain @reblogunderthemountain @guardianofrivendell @elrawienthewhite @tschrist1 @nelleedraws @beenovel @vee-vee-writes @mcchiberry @dumbassunderthemountain @errruvande @laurfilijames @emrfangirl @s0ftd3m0n @lilith15000 @kami-chan1512 @ragsweas @enchantzz @aduialel @myselfandfantasy @thewhiteladyofrohan @elliepie1226 @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @blairsanne @fckmini @clumsy-wonderland @wormsmith @mailinsblogofstuff @medusas-hairband @xxbyimm @guylty
A.N: Sooooo. Sat down to write something new and ended up finishing part one of a fic I’ve been planning since August of last year. And don’t worry- there’s only two more parts both of which are outlined so I should be able to get them done fast! Anyways this was something I started almost a year ago just because I saw a picture of a dress on Pinterest and wanted to work it into a fic lol. And also because I want to celebrate Aragorn! Enjoy and part 2 will be up soon!
Word Count: 1,132
Pairing: Aragorn x Reader, Faramir x Eowyn
Summary: Aragorn surprises you with a plan.
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A Queen in Body, Mind, and Spirit Part I
You turned the corner, arm hooked around Legolas’, speaking softly as you strolled along the battlements. It was three months after the Battle at the Black Gate, mid-June, to be exact, and Minas Tirith was starting to resemble its old glory. Two months after Aragorn’s coronation, the help sent by the dwarven kingdoms and the elven-king had departed a few days previous, and you were enjoying the view of a slightly less crowded city. You’d also never say this to Legolas, but it smelled better without the elves. Or maybe that was without the dwarves? Either way, it smelled better.
“Y/N! Legolas!” Faramir cried out to you, Eowyn walking with him.
You stopped and waited for them, smiling as you greeted your friends.
“What brings the two of you up here?” You linked arms with Faramir as Legolas talked to Eowyn.
He blushed. “We’re planning our wedding! Eowyn wanted to scout out the battlements for a spot. And, actually, while on the subject, why haven’t you told me that you and Aragorn are betrothed?”
“What?!” You stopped, looking up at the man in pure confusion.
Eowyn and Legolas turned around to see your shocked face.
“What’s happening?” Eowyn looked bemused, Faramir even more so.
“Nothing. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go talk to my fiance.” You stomped off, the two humans still looking confused while Legolas smirked in the background.
“Aragorn!” You marched into the room, furious. “Get your ass back in here right now!”
He paused, one foot out the window with a confused, slightly terrified expression.
“Why?”
“Because Faramir just congratulated me on our betrothal?!! What did you do?”
He stepped back into the room and nervously scratched his head. “Oh yeah. I... might have told people we were betrothed.”
“I gathered that! My only question is why?”
“Welllll, because the council keeps pressuring me to get married. But I don’t want to, yet. I’ve been king for a little more than a month, and there’s still so much to do. Just, please go along with it? For a little while?”
You weren’t impressed. The disapproving look on your face conveyed everything you didn’t say.
“Please? Y/N, come on. It’ll help me out, and I know the pressure on you to get married hasn’t exactly been light, either. The council’s cracking down on both of us, me as the King and you as a hero of the war. If we get betrothed it’ll solve both of our problems!”
You sighed. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
“Thank you so much, Y/N. You won’t regret this!”
You smiled at the boyish grin on his face, the one that you hadn’t seen in so long. Turning to leave, you grinned at him over your shoulder.
“I am expecting lots of kingly betrothal gifts.”
His groan followed you out the door.
That night, you paced back and forth in your rooms, wringing your hands.
“What do I do, Legolas?! I’m not a queen, I don’t look like a queen, and now I have to stand in front of all these people, lots of whom are my very dear friends, and tell that I’ll be a queen!”
“Just act, Y/N! Act like a queen! It’s not hard, I can help you.”
“I know you can help me get better at it in the future, but we’re announcing it officially at a banquet in thirty minutes! I can’t learn to act like a queen in thirty minutes!”
You were twisting your thumbs in that way you always did when nervous, and you could feel the pit in your stomach growing and growing.
Legolas rose from where he had sprawled on your bed, walking over and setting his hands on your shoulders, holding you steady and looking you in the eyes.
“First of all, you’ve certainly dressed the part.”
That was true. Aragorn had sent you an exquisite dress for the occasion. The bodice was orange, with golden thread lining the neckline and the tops of the flowy sleeves that fastened right below your shoulders, leaving the shoulders themselves bare. The orange darkened down the skirt until at the hem it was a dark red, almost burgundy. The same gold thread used on the bodice was intricately embroidered as small dragons along the hem of the dress. These were matched by the golden dragon necklace hanging in the deep v-neck of the dress, and the golden crown of flames adorning your head. The effect was completed with a shimmering fiery red cape, pinned at your shoulders and sweeping its way after you on the floor. It was not heavy, and didn’t look it- just gave you an extra air of regality.
“Yes, but do you think it’s too much?”
You spun, trying to catch a clear glimpse of your reflection.
“It’s not too much, Y/N. You look like a queen. You’ll do great,” Legolas told you.
You took a deep breath. “Yes. I’ll do great. I’ll act like a queen.”
He smiled at you, stepping out the door. “You got this.”
You smiled back at him as the door closed, taking another deep breath before opening it and making your way along the cold, empty hallway to Aragorn’s rooms. No one had gotten around to decorating this area yet, so it was rather bleak. But you didn’t mind- it just made you get outside more, which was a good thing!
Pausing in front of Aragorn’s door, you took a deep breath and knocked.
He opened it quickly.
“Y/N! Good, let’s head- Whoa.”
His mouth was hanging open and he was blushing.
You smirked. “Like my outfit?”
Aragorn swallowed, audibly. “Ummmmm, yes! Yes, I very much do. Y-you look great!”
As he shuffled his feet, you got the chance to take in his chosen attire. Although, by the looks of it, Legolas had dressed him. The king wasn’t very good at color schemes, even though he’d done very well with your dress.
Aragorn was the perfect contrast to you. While your dress was lit like the sun in fiery reds and oranges, Aragorn was calm like the moon, in a navy blue tunic with silver embroidery on the sleeves. The grey pants he wore were rather dull, but it didn’t matter, because he had a sweeping, sparkling black cloak trailing behind him, only overshadowed by the gleaming silver placed on his head.
If you were the sun, Aragorn was the night sky.
And as you gazed at him, your jaw dropped.
It was suddenly Aragorn’s turn to smirk, as, with suddenly regained confidence, he offered you his arm.
“Shall we head to dinner, my Lady?”
You promptly snapped your mouth shut and took his arm, both steadfastly not looking at each other as you walked the way to the hall.
Because I'm in a writing slump and can't find any motivation to write fics on my own, I figured I would re-open my requests to see if maybe it would help!
If you decide to send one, make sure to read my Request Rules before. Here is a list of the fandoms and characters I'm willing to write for:
this is so dumb haha but im SO confused.. I watched skz's domino performance from 5 months ago and hyunjins back to his short hair??? All of them look different lol I can't keep up
I have barely been keeping up with anything nowadays. If it's on social media then I'm barely keeping up oof. I'm slowly starting to come back to reality tho 😪
Have you seen chans blue hair though? It looks so good.
it's so hard to keep up w kpop stuff haha,, im still stuck in enhypens drunk dazed and fever era, but they have so many other new songs/albums now too..same w txt and skz lol I can't believe skzs gods menu came out 2 yes ago
DUDE SAME like I've been stuck on fever, drunk-dazed, and give-taken that I've forgotten there are new ones. And don't even get me started on gods menu. I feel old just thinking about how long it came out.
