Tree

This Tumblr account is currently only for self-indulgent writing for myself.

I also write in British English, so if you see a word that's spelt differently, for example, 'colour' rather than color, or even me using the term pavement rather than sidewalk, that's why.

If I have anything to post, I usually aim for a Tuesday, Thursday, or Saturday.

Feel free to send it a request or idea but please note that I won't nesserarily write it if I don't feel like it. A request/idea is not a guarantee of something being written.

Who/what I fandoms I write:

Formula 1

- I write stuff about the divers that I am personally a fan of or that I feel I can write about. this includes:

Sir Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen, Daniel Riccardo, Mick Schumacher, Sebastian Vettel, Charles Leclerc, Pierre Gasly, George Russell, Lando Norris, & Carlos Sainz Jr.

The Lord Of The Rings + The Hobbit

This will have any characters I fancy writing about. I haven't seen rings of power yet so therefore no writing to do with that will appear here, unfortunately.

I no longer write for the DSMP characters or content creators but I will leave the fics up.

All fics will be tagged so you can find them easier, or you can use the masterlist to find fics as well.

She sighed at the thought of having to attend additional meetings, even just the thought of them could bore her enough to sleep. Why had she succumbed so easily to him?

It was a question she asked herself the more she thought about Charles. But then again, the sight of him on his knees begging her to swap with him was one she would never forget.

How could she?

The world was spinning behind her eyelids, the darkness helping to subdue some of the sickness compared to watching the world swim around her. It was a never ending delirium composed of a turntable of colours, rotating endlessly without an end in sight.

The swirling darkness increased its tempo. The acid staining the back of her throat became more prominent as she tried slowing her breaths. The sweat lingering on her body from the race was practically revolting, her mind trying to focus on anything but the smell. She couldn’t shower until she got back to the hotel, so the bile, alongside the contents of her stomach, threatening its welcome was not wanted in any sense.

It was one thing to find your soulmate, that she was grateful for, but the constant dizziness and sickness that came with it after spending all but a few hours apart was the one thing she hated.

Her stomach clenched as she took another sip of water, her head lolling back against the wall as she pulled herself upright.

Okay, maybe she would trade Pierre if it meant no more sickness.

The door into her driver room opened and shut with a slam as a body collapsed ungracefully onto the floor next to her, a weight shifting itself onto her lap. It felt like she could finally breathe again, the swirling of her vision grinding to a halt.

She opened her eyes, the sight of Pierre’s mop of hair and head lying on her legs compared to his body strewn across the floor next to her was a sight to see. And one she missed of course.

Her fingers caressed Pierre's hair as a groan left his lips.

"Finally," he opened his eyes, his piercing grey-green ones staring directly into hers, "I don't feel like I'm going to empty my stomach over a reporter anymore."

She chuckled and shook her head at his words.

“Well, if you hadn’t spent so long with your interviews then we wouldn’t be in this situation now, would we?” She teased him back. The spinning had stopped. It was as if she could breathe freely again without worrying the contents of her stomach were to spew over an innocent passerby.

“You got me there,” Pierre smirked before hauling himself up off the ground, grabbing her hand to pull her up, “Come on ma chérie, let's get going. You can finally shower and wash the stench of sweat off yourself.”

“I don’t smell that bad,” she cried in mock offence, “If anything you smell worse.”

It was a reminder. A taunt. A pain-filled memory of what he lost, of what he loved; the thing he held so dear to his heart that now had been ripped from him, all he wanted was for it to disappear.

Carlos supposed that would be less painful, a world of greyscale again where the hues of colour was non-existent. And the colour tags on his clothes, fuck, how he hated them.

But that change back after their death would be too painful.

A haunting world without colour would allow him to forget, but would serve as much as a painful memory. It would allow him to pretend though, a world without colour. That it was like before, where he would spend his nights alone wishing for his soulmate to appear. Where he didn't have this crushing weight on his chest everytime he looked at the wilting hydrangeas.

It was autumn now. The flowers were finally dying off, but the colours... God, they were so bright still, the blue having faded to a lighter colour with a lack of light but still so bright compared to the world he lived in.

But Carlos wished for the colour in his life to stay.

It would hurt him more, he supposed, to experience a world so bright and vibrant without them, especially having waited so long for them. But the time together felt so short.

The swirling flames danced in the black night as the burning wood cracked and splintered under the heat. They were now down to the last few dry logs, about ten left at most; the rain that hailed down that morn had drenched everything in sight, including any spare firewood.

It was their turn at night watch, sharing the second shift with the golden mane Durin.

They had chosen to switch between who was keeping the fire ablaze, and who had a watchful eye on the darkened surroundings. These days the paths through the mountains were never safe.

The ground next to them shifted as a weight fell on their shoulders. A hand smoothed down the fabric pulling it forward to drape over them, with little chance of it falling loose. They gripped onto the fabric, adjusting it slightly themselves as the older Durin prince, Fili, sat himself down next to them.

A chill had started to settle over the camp, the soaked ground not having kept any heat from the rainy day earlier. They wrapped their hands in the blanket attempting to warm themselves further only for the texture to stun them.

The softness of the blanket was a harsh, but pleasant, comparison to the rest of the fabric they were wearing. The clothes they wore were tougher, well-worn, and far from being smooth. But this, this was Fili's.

They leant against him, Fili wordlessly wrapping an arm around them in contentedness. He kept that blanket for himself, one of the few things that he was against lending to others.

Aragorn was on first watch as usual, having made it his task since the beginning of the journey, and always insisted that the hobbits and Gandalf got plenty of sleep. But with that came the usual knowing looks between the two of you as Aragorn knew his love wouldn't sleep unless he would.

So with that knowledge, and him sensing his love's rising anxiety at being trapped underground, it now brought them to this.

He tilted your head up from where it was resting against his chest, his hand cupping your face. Aragorn brushed a few loose strands of hair off your face from where it had fallen out of place as his own head tilted down towards yours. His hand gently entwined with your other, and he paused in his movements, allowing you to decide next.

You gently reached up, threading your hand through his long locks and gently pulling him down towards you. He pressed his lips to yours, mouth moving slowly, softly, intimately.

He pulled away, your lips chasing after his, a small smile gracing his lips as he pressed another kiss, and then another, and then another to your lips.

the type of kiss where you can't find words to say after, or the ones where your forehead lingers against each other's

Aragorn's horse trotted through helms deep, having just pulled him up from the river bed where if not found, he would've succumbed to his wounds. He dismounted his horse and received a scolding from Gimli before forcing himself up the staircases and into the deep.

Legolas rose from outside the doors, greeting his friend who believed him dead. The elf pulled him into a familiar embrace before pulling back and making a sarcastic comment about the ranger.

The elf turned a small smile gracing his face before yelling the name of a person. The ranger followed his line of sight. It fell on his love, you.

You looked up after the elf who yelled out to you, before seeing the man you mourned for standing with him. Abandoning your stuff, you ran to him, arms thrown over his shoulders and crushing him to your chest as a few sobs left you.

His arms encircled you as he leant his forehead against yours. He didn't care at that point about the mud caking him and he didn't think you cared enough at that point, so it made no odds on whether he was careful or not.

He pulled back slightly, raising his hand to caress your face before pressing his lips to yours. Tears left both of you as his mouth moved languidly with yours.

Aragorn pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. He wanted to say so much to you, fearing that he would never see you again but all thoughts left him as he wished to stay in this moment, longing for nothing but you.

2. Fili

messy kisses - curly hair, ruffled sheets and half-buttoned clothes as you just want more and at that moment, they're the most beautiful soul to you ever

The sun trickled in through the window, bypassing the curtains that hadn't been fully drawn across the night before. The young (ish) couple lounged in the bed, bodies pressed together as close as they could get with the few layers of clothes still between them.

He tilted your head up to meet his, his lips pressing against yours, moving languidly in the early morn. Fili reached up, hand caressing your courting and marriage braids that were still somewhat intact.

He groaned, feeling one of your hands gripping the hair at the base of his neck and the other slipping under his shirt across his chest.

Fili pulled back, eyes fluttering open to meet yours; your own half-lidded as you drew in a few stuttering breaths. It was a pleasant greeting from your love first thing in the morning, one that you would be against again.

You gazed up at Fili, the dwarf hovering over you, careful not to rest his entire body weight on you. The tressels of sunlight filtered through his hair, causing a glow to shine over him.

His eyes trailed over your face, memorising every detail as if it was the first time he saw you.

kisses on your body ♡ frail kisses on your shoulder! on your lower back, belly and trailing to your neck, collarbones, lips.

A cry of pain left your lips.

Oin pulled the blood-soaked cloth away from where it was pressed tightly against your side. The infection from the arrow had spread, the orcs having laced it with something deadly.

The pain wasn't something Fili wished on anyone, much less you. So he did his best to comfort you whilst the infection ransacked your body. His hands firmly held you, one holding the back of your head, and the other gripping your forearm to stop you from forcing Oin's hand away from the wound he was trying his best to treat.

After Oin had doused the cut in water, trying to flood any dirt that wormed its way in, Fili pulled you closer. The healer moved back to gather some more altheas and cloths, leaving you curled against your prince's chest.

Fili dropped his head down to your shoulder, as your tears continued to douse his shirt - not that he cared as it was covered in sweat, grime, and whatever else from the trip across middle earth - his hand on your head slipping down to the back of your neck, stroking his fingers in what he hoped was a soothing pattern.

He pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, the fabric of your tunic had been pulled away, cut away for easier access. It would need replacing, he noted, but hoped that it would be enough to cover you until the sun rose again.

Fili continued his ministrations, pressing another kiss further up your shoulder. And then another at the junction where it met your neck. He considered pressing one to your neck, in that one spot he knew made you shiver, but with the way you were sitting in his lap you were already considered improper in public, so he begrudgingly decided against it.

Oin chose to return at that moment, pressing the churned-up altheas against your wound and then tying the cleanest cloth over it. You cried out in pain, more tears falling. It was like someone was driving a burning knife into your arm, over, and over, and over again. The pain rolling in waves.

Fili kept whispering words of praises and comfort, the Kadzhul translations lost in your mind as all you could feel was the pain, and him.

The knot was finally tied on the bandage. Fili slid his hand from the back of your neck to cup your face, pressing a chaste kiss against your forehead before leaning his own upon yours.

I'm here, you're safe now, I love you, the action spoke more words than Fili could find himself saying.

3. Haldir

lazy kisses as they admire you - fingers delicately trialing your jaw as they kiss your lips

"Haldir," you groaned, leaning back against his chest, head turned up to face him. A smile graced his lips, his eyes locked with yours, shining full of love.

It wasn't often you got to spend a prolonged period of time with your Marchwarden, especially with him being gone for months at a time to guard Lothlórien's borders. So any time you spent with him was precious, even if you knew he would be leaving at the end of it again.

The braid in his hair was loose, albeit from your hands running through his hair earlier, causing him to have a sexy, but dishevelled look. The thought of elves being supermodels no matter what state they were in flashed through your mind again causing you to chuckle slightly.

Haldir raised his hand, letting it linger under your jaw as he delicately leaned down to place another kiss against your lips. Warmth bloomed through you and as his lips moved against yours, all thought about him having to leave again in a few days retreated into the depths of your mind.

You were drunk off the taste of him, off his kisses as he stole your breath each time. And nothing would ever change that.

goodbye kisses - kisses lingering like liquor in each other's lips, bitter but sweet, "I'll always come back to you, love. you're my home after all."

The boats gifted to the fellowship had just finished being prepared and were packed full of provisions to last you a good while.

The thought of having to leave your home again haunted you but not just because it was where you lived. No, because this time you were leaving your love, not knowing when you were to see him again. He was your home.

The Marchwarden was allowed to see his love off, having been granted a week's leave whilst you and the fellowship recovered and stayed in Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien. After you were sent as an emissary to Imladris, Rivendell in the common tongue, and word had returned that you had embarked on a journey to destroy the one ring, Haldir was worried for you.

He knew the history of the ring, as did most if not all elves and was worried about the dangers you may face. He knew that you could protect yourself, having been a sparring partner against you for years, but the worry did not dissipate.

He met you at the shoreline, his hand over his heart in the traditional greeting before he held your hand in his. Sadness filled his eyes as he wished not to see you leave, but knowing that this was a journey you were willing to take.

Haldir leant his head against yours as he fixed the cloak hung around your shoulders, ensuring that the broach was attached properly.

His hands lingered on your waist as he prepared himself to say goodbye again. It was one thing being the one who was leaving, but now that he was on the receiving side for once, he now knew how your heart felt each time he went on patrol. That feeling of not knowing if you were coming back or not eating at his heart.

Your hand on his cheek stole his spiralling mind from his thoughts as your lips pressed against his. A tear threatened to leave his eye as he consumed your kiss like a drug. The fear bubbling in his chest soothing to make way for the love he held for you but the melancholy feeling at having to be parted from you made it more bittersweet than anything.

His lips lingered over yours as you pulled away, his hand raising to stoke a strand of hair back from your face. Haldir wished he could keep you here in his arms but understood the task you had undertaken would not be dropped lightly.

4. Kili

kissing and realising this is the person you'll always love, you'll always want to touch and snuggle with

Kili didn't think he could hold you any closer than he currently was.

You were practically melded into him, hands gripping tightly to the back of his jacket. The clothing was still damp from the thunderous storm you had walked through, but nonetheless had to still wear.

The terror that shot through him as the thunder giant collided with the mountain, believing that he had lost not only his brother but you as well, was something he never wished to feel again. His hands trembled slightly at the thought.

He shifted slightly, taking some pressure off his shoulder whilst pulling you upwards slightly so you were level with him. The ground wasn't pleasant to lie on, less so on his side, and even less so with damp clothes on, but Kili knew this was the company's best option right now.

Kili rested his head against yours, his eyes meeting yours. He nudged his nose with yours affectionately, giving you time to pull away.

It was something he always did, you noted. Every time he wanted to kiss you but couldn't find the words to say it, or was surrounded by too many prying eyes, he did that. Gave you that tell that allowed you to decide what happens next.

You tentatively leant forwards, tilting your head upwards ever so slightly, letting your lips press against his. There was no rush. No incessant desire to pull the other closer, just him.

Kili moved his lips slowly with yours, savouring every moment that he got with you. Fuck, he loved you. The realisation pulled at his heartstrings more, knowing that he could've lost you today.

prohibited kiss - you're not even supposed to be seeing each other but your hands are on his hair and his hands around your waist, lower bodies pressing into each other as you kiss

Laughter radiated through your body as you were pulled through the endless turns and corridors of Erebor. The stone walls were lined with torches and braziers all lit with fires burning brightly.

To anyone else, it would be a maze, a catacomb of tunnels that unless sense was made of them, would surely lead to your demise. But years of living there had engraved the pathways into your mind, and no doubt Kili's.

His hand dragged you to a secluded corner, himself coming to a halt. He could no longer hear the guards trying to follow the two of you. Pride flooded his chest as he gazed back at you, finally alone with his betrothed.

You were finally able to get a good look at him, now that he didn't have all the dwarrowdams fawning over him. Even if he wasn't "beautiful" by dwarf standards, he was still a prince and would have people trying to gain his favour.

But his title didn't matter to you. Kili did.

And by the creator himself, did you love the way he looked. His hair tousled from the running, and the short beard he was so desperately trying to grow accentuated his face.

But the ceremonial robes that hung to his body? You couldn't resist.

He found himself pushed back, pinned against the pillar. Kili's eyes locked with yours, the same fire of desire within him, burning through you.

Your lips pressed with his, mouths moving frantically with the others. Your hands that gripped onto the front of his robes slid up, trailing up his neck and into his hair, pulling slightly to press him into you more.  A groan left him at a particularly harsh tug before your hand moved to trace his courting braid.

He pulled away, panting, breathless, kissing you again and pulling you into him, arms gripping your waist, hands in his hair, your bodies practically merging into one. If his Amad caught him now, he wouldn't even have to face the scornful looks of Dwalin, he would already be lying in his grave.

But could he let you go? Fuck no.

5. Legolas

shy kisses - when you're the one pulling them closer, and they nuzzle their face in your crook after the kiss, hands around your waist as their ears get red

You were scared. If anything you were currently lustful, but you were about to fight in a war against ten thousand troops with an army of less than a third of that. So you were scared.

Legolas had turned to where you leant against one of the pillars, choosing to come and check all the fastenings on your armour. He was meticulous and methodical as he went to each and every one, adjusting where he deemed necessary whilst checking it caused you no discomfort.

A soft smile graced your face, as you watch his gentle movements before reaching out to cup his face in one of your hands. A blush, so subtle anyone who didn’t know Legolas would miss it, warmed his face, his head lifting and eyes locking with yours. It was as if he was staring straight into your soul, his piercing grey eyes full of love but fear.

You pulled him towards you, Legolas leaning his head down as his hand held over yours on his face, the other resting gently on your waist. Leaning up, you gently pressed your lips to his. Just once, mind you, the action as tender as possible, letting him come to you.

Legolas leant into you, pressing his lips back against yours, moving at a slow pace. He wanted to savour this moment as much as possible before the two of you walked to what could be your deaths.

ahem.

The clearing of the person's throat sprung the two of you apart, you mentally preparing for the endless stream of apologies to whichever passerby caught you, only for it to be someone you knew all too well.

"Aragorn." You spoke, heavily embarrassed to be caught with your lover.

The ranger looked between the two of you, his face being that awful neutral resting one making it so you couldn't judge his feelings on the matter. Aragorn must have read the panic starting to creep up in you as a teasing smile broke out.

“I have no qualms with this,” he began before looking over his shoulder towards the entrance of the armoury, “but the people of Rohan may not be as forgiving if you are caught.”

He turned on his heel, making his way up the staircase and leaving the two to their devices.

A moment passed and then a chuckle left your lips as a sigh left Legolas’. His head fell to your shoulder as the blush absconding his cheeks spread like wildfire tinting his ears a rosy colour.

At least it was only Aragorn, you mused, If Gimli had found you then he wouldn’t stop teasing your elf.

kisses of reassurance - saying that you're safe, still with them, that your heart is still beating wildly in your chest, that they couldn't get rid of you if they tried, that for some insane reason, you're not dead yet

Your chest heaved, trying to inhale as much air as possible as you sprinted up the mud-soaked hill. Aragorn had yelled for the soldiers to retreat into Minas Tirith and you were making your way as fast as you could until an arrow pierced your shoulder.

The doors were closed and sealed as you entered alongside the last few stragglers, a resounding bang from the wood hitting the stone frame. The room spun on its axis.

The throbbing pain in your arm continued, each ebb seeming stronger which was probably due to the adrenaline wearing off. Maybe you should've stayed fighting, it surely couldn't hurt as much as your arm did, you thought as your uninjured arm reached out to hold yourself up against the wall.

Giving up on keeping yourself upright, you slid falling somewhat ungracefully to the floor, blood dripping from your wound and soaking your sleeve. It was funny how much damage one arrow could cause.

You blinked.

The sun had risen, and from where you could see it, it was around mid-morning. Your eyes focused and you could see a worried face in a sea of platinum blonde hair. Legolas.

Ignoring the sound of the elf’s worry, you pushed yourself up into a seated position, as he gracefully knelt down next to you. His hands mindlessly moved to cup your face, as he had to pull his eyes away from your crudely bandaged arm. The arrow had been jagged and cut more as it pierced you, causing more blood to be lost.

Your hand covered one of his as Legolas moved to press his forehead to yours.

“I'm okay,” you whispered, breaking the silence between the two of you. Your thumb stroked the back of his hand absentmindedly, as you tilted your head up, meeting his lips with yours. It was one of desperation, longing and fear. A shuddered breath left you as the two of you broke apart.

Being cooped up in your room was doing you no good, so here you were, hidden away in one of the libraries of Erebor alongside Balin. It was one of the few places that were a, near to your room, and b, where you could find some peace away from the entourage of guards following you. (In reality, it was only two, but being ill tended to make you even more overdramatic.)

Scrolls of plenty were laid out on the desk in front of you, having missed many lessons with Balin regarding the history of the Dwarves, you figure it was the least you could do to catch up again. The stubbornness of the older was apparently no match for your own that day, namely because he saw how tired you looked once you had seated yourself at the table.

You wouldn't end up coming the to realisation that Balin had only conceded in the argument to keep you in place so that he could send for Fili until a day later at least.

The door to the library flung open

"You couldn't just stay in bed resting, could you amrâlimê?" The question came from a certain blonde prince who had once again to his uncle's dismay abandoned his duties. It wasn't like there was another heir to the throne who usually slacked off to spend time with a certain elf.

Kili could suck it up for one day.

Arms grabbed you, lifting you up and out of your seat and into the arms of your prince. He adjusted you slightly, hoping that you weren't too uncomfortable or that you wouldn't do something stupid like roll out of his arms only to meet the stone floor underneath you. Not like he was speaking from experience, definitely not. He nodded to Balin as the old dwarf smiled in return.

"Make sure they get some rest lad," Balin called as Fili carried you away. He shook his head, turning back to the table you were sitting at, now having to clear away the scrolls you had out. At least you hadn't regurgitated over them. That was a blessing.

"Fili," you whined, annoyed that he was taking you away and back to rest. You did your best to focus on him but found that sleep was taking over your mind. Maybe you shouldn't have left your room?

But you would've gone insane spending another full day doing nothing but sleeping.

"Sometimes ghivashel," Fili began, lightly kicking the door to your room open, and then shut again, "I wished I hadn't married someone so stubborn."

He rested you back on your bed, letting you sit up leaning against him, "But then I wouldn't have fallen for you ghivashel."

He sighed to himself, looking down at your tired form. This cold of yours was really taking a toll on your body. He could only pray to Mahal that you would get better in the coming days.

"Promise me, you'll let yourself rest?" Fili asked, hand reaching up to twirl the marriage braid and bead between his fingers.

"I'll try," you murmured back, looking up at him, eyes locking with his, "As long as I'm not bored to death by then."

General fics:

Fili, son of Dis:

Of Feelings And Fancy - 0.5k words

Published: 12/02/2023

Tags: fluff, pronouns: she/her, dwarven braiding customs.

Balin and the reader just being sort of found family feels. With: "You're plotting something." "What makes you say that?" "You're always plotting something."

Helpless - 0.5k words

Published: 19/02/2023

Tags: fluff, sick fic, pronouns: n/a, dwarven braiding customs, married couple.

A carrying a stubborn B back to bed after they find them trying to be productive.

Soft - 0.2k words

Published: 05/03/2023

Tags: fluff, pronouns: they/them, implied relationship (i hope).

Soft - sender wraps a soft blanket around the receiver’s shoulders.

Kili, son of Dis:

A Surprise Proposition - 0.3k words

Published: 05/02/2023

Tags: fluff, pronouns: n/a, dwarven braiding customs.

"Are we just gonna... keep holding hands?" "Dunno. It's nice though."

Multiple Pairings:

10 types of kisses - 3.4k words

Published: 25/02/2023

Pairings/Included: Aragorn, Fili, Haldir, Kili, & Legolas x Reader (separately).

Tags: No beta, we die like Boromir. fluff, pronouns: n/a, dwarven braiding customs, injury, blood.

Ten different types of kisses with different LOTR/TH characters.

“What makes you say that?” she replied back, keeping the tone of her voice as neutral as possible, not wanting to lead him on in any way, shape, or form.

Balin raised his eyebrows in disbelief as if to say that he didn't believe her, to which he was within his rights to do so and was as true as the sun rising in the east each morning. That was the only thing she hated about the old man. His ability to tell whenever she was up to something.

Or maybe it was because she was terrible at keeping secrets.

"You’re always plotting something," Balin spoke back, eating another mouthful of food before speaking again, "I don't suppose it has anything to do with leaving me here in favour of your gold hair-prince by chance?"

She choked on the food causing herself to swallow it to breathe again. Although she was used to the teasing from Kili and other dwarrow she knew, it hadn't occurred to her that she would face the same from Balin. But then again, it was Balin.

"You do understand why you couldn't travel with him?"

The pointed look he gave her was all she need to know.

It was a topic that came up constantly surrounding her betrothal to Fili. A lot of the dwarves in the mountain believed that their relationship was moving too fast, especially for the young people they were. Dis had tried to advocate for them and had Balin at the time, knowing what it was like when you met your one, but lots of the older traditional dwarrow couldn't be budged on their opinions. And so it meant the two had to be chaperoned a lot more than they previously were.

So when it came to the journey to Hobbiton, she wasn't surprised when it was requested she travels with Balin rather than unchaperoned with the two Durin brothers.

The white-haired dwarf saw how she deflated in on herself, subconsciously making herself appear smaller as thoughts plagued her mind. Blain internally sighed. It hadn't been his intent to cause her any pain or sorrow, so the only thing he supposed he should offer the lass was comfort and the thoughts of what was to come.

He rose from the ground, trudging over to her side of the campfire and sitting ever so graceless next to her.

"Just think, in a few days, you'll be able to see him again," he teased, "and to think he'll be glad to see you still have that dagger of his."

She considered his words carefully, trying not to blush but regrettably failing at the mention of the dagger Fili had gifted her. It was part of his courting gift to her, alongside the braid in her hair that she knew he would be itching to re-do upon seeing her again.

She smiled, remembering the day he gifted them to her as if it was yesterday. The way Fili's eyes shone with the love he held for her; how fingers carefully caressed through her hair, braiding strands together and clasping a bead into the end.

Maybe it was nothing and you were just overthinking it once again. Or maybe it was something, especially as the dwarf holding your hand had practically confessed his feelings for you whilst you were locked in the dungeons of Mirkwood.

Deciding to break the ice, unlike the barge, you were on, you cleared your throat to get your companion's attention.

"Are we just gonna... keep holding hands?" you tentatively asked. The brunette prince turned to face you whilst your other companions continued to squabble over money to pay the bargeman.

"Dunno. It's nice though." he shrugged back. Kili adjusted his grip on your hand before bringing it up to lay a kiss on the back of it.

"Kili." You stated, wanting a serious answer from him.

"Y/n." He replied in the same tone of voice.

Kili kept his eyes locked with yours before bringing his other hand up to brush a strand of your hair back behind your ear. You froze as he did so, knowing that him touching your hair was a big deal for dwarves.

"Well, when we finally get a moment to ourselves then I would like the honour of braiding your hair." Kili smiled at you, a hint of a teasing grin hidden underneath. He looked back out at the water covered in fog as your stunned silence allowed for a moment to gather his, and your, thoughts.

"I presume you understand our customs and what I'm implying," a teasing smile plastered on his lips. He knew that you understood the severity of his words, having explained with Bofur what different braids and beads in dwarves' hair and beards meant to you towards the beginning of the journey.

You let out a small scoff at his words, not one of displeasure no, but more in disbelief and excitement.

The weather had chosen to be temperamental this weekend thus making the strategy plans a lot more complicated. Y/n was doing her best trying to work directly with Carlos with what input he gave rather than the rest of the strategists that had one brain cell between them on occasion.

How the team ended up like this, Y/n didn't know. But then again, it was Ferrari so anything was possible.

Managing the strategy wasn't her main job, she was Carlos' race engineer, but now it seemed as though she had to do everything. Pushing the paper containing the rough outline she had worked on for this weekend over to Carlos, she waited for his approval and input only for her to recoil as a sharp bitter taste flooded through her mouth.

The Spaniard looked at her in worry seeing her face scrunched up in discontent and disgust before he chuckled to himself as Y/n took an aggressive swig of her drink before she turned to look around the garage and find the culprit.

"Charles!" She yelled at the Monegasque.

The brunette paused, a slice of lemon hanging from his mouth, his reaction akin to that of a dog being caught doing something it shouldn't be. His eyes locked with his soulmates, her raising her hands in protest at his actions. Slowly he reached down into the bowl and grabbed another slice of lemon.

"Don't you dare," Y/n threatened the driver only for him to quickly bite down on the next slice.

I mean, who wasn't? But this season was hitting hard. Not only had they bitterly lost to Red Bull last year, but one of his drivers was canoodling with the enemy.

And it wasn't Lewis.

Thinking about it now, he hadn't seen his second driver in a while. No doubt she was over in the enemy trenches. However, that thought drifted from his mind when he was rudely reminded of the verbal fight he had interrupted between the two just last weekend.

He turned his attention to Bono who was sitting next to him alongside Andrew. The younger of the two had been taken under Bono's wing temporarily as he was being given pointers by the elder on handling Y/n's sass whilst she was driving.

Toto recalled the silent treatment he was granted after he and James broke the news that James would no longer be working with her. That month was hell.

As he laughed along with the two race engineers at something Bono had said, a hushed silence fell over the garage as shouts could be heard from the pit lane. From his seat, all it took was a glance over to see into the pit lane at all the commotion.

He saw Verstappen, somewhat speedwalking away before a goose flew up and actively hit the driver in the back of the head. The dutchman swatted it off before the goose fluttered its wings and let out a loud "honk" before proceeding to follow him down the pit lane.

Toto shook his head as he noticed the golden shimmer coming from the goose. Of course, it was a soulmate one. However, he could feel his blood pressure actively rising as he heard the yell that was all too familiar to him.

His eyes locked on Y/n, his second driver, as she watched her follow Verstappen and the goose only for his heart to start racing in his chest as the soulmate goose then started chasing his driver who chose to book it back into the Mercedes garage and through to the back.

He groaned in frustration, leading his head in his hands, his elbows plopped up on the desk in front of him. Sliding his hands down his face he rested his chin in his palms.