#dwalin x reader

Bilbo is just flustered in general, so if you consistently find a way to touch him, he will get unbelievably jumpy. He is expecting it, but also in disbelief that someone would want to touch him so much that it surprises him every time. The man blushes from ear to ear, especially if you're a taller individual. He would eventually come to terms with it after therapy sessions with himself and clumsily seek it out himself in the form of sweaty hand holding and awkwardly resting his hand on your shoulder when you're crouched at your bedroll or stoking the fire.

Thorin is very much a pat on the shoulder type of guy, but he isn't too touchy. He's totally fine with the bumping and shoving that comes with the rambunctious roughhousing of the Company's dwarves, but he doesn't really participate. He mostly gets bumped into when the others get careless, otherwise they try to avoid him. What he finds most strange is the gentleness of your touch. He's used to the firm and rough disposition of dwarves, but the way your fingers press so softly against his skin, as if he would shatter under any more pressure, brings him an odd sense of clarity. His mind heavy with responsibility and anxiety clouding his vision, your warm palm pressing to his neck as your fingers lay across the back of his neck pulls him from the fog and it's like he's breathing for the first time. He becomes a big fan of kissing your knuckles; it's the kingly thing to do.

Balin has become less touchy in his old age. When he was younger, he was a bit like Bofur in his jovial nature. Shouting drinking songs with his arm slung around a friend's shoulder or putting someone in a playful headlock; he definitely isn't a stranger to expressing himself through touch. However, he's old now and that man's back hurts. He said leave me the hell alone, I got arthritis and chest pains and a herniated disc, LEAVE ME BE ୧(๑•̀ᗝ•́)૭ Bro creaks when he stands up. That's why you like to give him little massages whenever you've stopped to rest. He was surprised when you first offered your help, said you noticed him wincing on the journey and might be able to fix it. The man felt brand new; you've got magic fingers, friend. It's like he's that young dwarf again, bouncing around during meals with Bofur and rubbing circles into the back of your hand in the small hours of the night as the Company winds down to sleep.

Dwalin is lowkey very touchy. He's very touchy in the usual manly sense; clapping a friend on the back, holding you in place to check for injuries, stuff like that. He likes hugging people, but that's a little too showy for his tastes. Plus, people don't often move to hug him, so he just doesn't offer. He isn't against cuddling you in bed, though. He'll never admit it out loud, but he sleeps the best whenever you're embracing.

Kili is the type to always be leaning on someone. Always nudging or poking when telling jokes, and he loves hugs. I imagine his mom cuddled him and his brother a lot, so he's used to just hugging everyone. He'd also walk around with his arm slung over somebody's shoulders all the time. His favorite thing would have to be your hand in his, though. Feeling the curve of your knuckles, the raised flesh of an old scar, the smoothness of your nails. Most of all, how soft they feel in comparison to his, calloused by years of drawing a bow.

Fili is touchy, but in a subtle way. Leaning in close while the group is talking until his shoulder bumps yours, a reassuring hand on the back when he sees that worried look on your face, or grabbing your upper arm to stop you from tripping. He's always looking out for others, and he's so engrossed in connection that he finds himself constantly touching someone. It pisses Kili off sometimes, but Fili loves to ruffle his hair when they're joking around. His favorite way to touch you is forehead kisses. Gently pushing your hair away from your forehead(I like to think that touching foreheads is an old dwarvish custom type thing used as a hello or goodbye, sort of like when Dwalin and Balin headbutt as a greeting.) He thinks it's very intimate and it makes him feel close to you.

Dori is mother. He constantly fusses over Ori, straightening his clothes, fixing his beard and tidying his buttons. Especially if they are being hosted by someone, Dori will float around and pick at everyone, making sure they are at least somewhat presentable. He's a very tidy and proper dwarf, so that is mainly where physical touch comes into play. That being said, he doesn't really participate in big shows of affection like hugs. He secretly gets really flustered; not as easily flustered as Bilbo, but he will shoo you off if you're overwhelming him (what a tsundere lmao). Most of the time it would be you initiating any type of touch but he always gets that little spark in his eye when you need your hair put up. Just by looking at him, you can tell he is something of a stylist. He absolutely loves braiding intricate designs into your hair. Sometimes you'll whine; you're feeling a little hot, a simple bun or braid will be fine. He will hear none of it. Threading his fingers through your hair, he separates the strands into sections and each time you ask, a few hours later your head is a masterpiece of delicately pinned and plaited swirls and patterns.

Nori is a sneaky little flirt. Being something of a trickster, he loves pushing the other dwarves around to annoy them. The ole tap their opposite shoulder and act like it wasn't you is the go-to in his repertoire. His touch has a similar charm when it comes to you; he'll sneak up behind you and blow on your ear just to see you jump, or squeeze at that sensitive spot on your side to get a squeak out of you. He's constantly poking at you just to tease. You'll get so worked up and flustered throughout the day. You're beyond embarrassed and frustrated by the time you lay out your bedroll, but he acts as if he didn't do anything as he grins at you.

Ori is shy, but unknowingly clingy. The Company settles for the night and gather around the fire for dinner and he is glued to someone's side. Personal space isn't a thing, but has it ever been? He's always been like this. He will sit right next to anyone, thighs and knees bumping. The same applies to when he gets frightened; he'll grab your sleeve with shaky hands like a little kid. However, when it comes to you, he is very aware of personal space. You hand brushes his and his face is beet red. You sit anywhere near as close as he would, he's just lost his place in his book. His brain just short circuits and he has to recalibrate his brain to even comprehend that you're speaking to him. Whenever he gets more comfortable though, he would love resting his head on your shoulder (or vice versa).

Oin is the consent KING! Since he's a practiced healer, he's very aware of how some people do not appreciate being touched. He tends to keep his hands to himself unless he's doing some medical work. Even then, he is very steady and methodical to maintain an air of professionalism and avoid making anyone uncomfortable. Since he's hard of hearing, he tends to lean into people when they're talking which sometimes results in some shoulder bumping, small things like that. That being said, he would have to warm up to more intimate touching. Of course, he wouldn't mind you touching him at all. He appreciates a squeeze of the shoulder in passing, but he is not about that PDA action. However, he is really gentle in private. Soft caresses, cradling your head as he strokes your hair.

Glóin is gruff, but not nearly as nonchalant as Dwalin. You try to hug him, the guy is grumbling and begrudgingly pats your back as if his pride will be crushed by a simple embrace. Literal drama queen. It's like the big awkward man energy; he's keeping up this façade of a strong, stoic type but he constantly breaks character. He'll be cracking up at a joke, clapping one of the boys on the back, or awkwardly pat their shoulder after they kill more orcs than him in a fight. Peak dad energy, actually. He's amazing with kids, obviously. They'll climb all over him, tugging at his beard but he tolerates it and doesn't get frustrated. He absolutely gets flustered when you touch him, but he tries to play it off like he isn't embarrassed. He doesn't have a problem touching you, though. His hand is on the small of your back whenever he can get it there, and he loves to cradle your cheek in one hand just to look at you. (Also this mf is absolutely little spoon and you cannot tell me otherwise) OMG he would also carry around a little braid of your hair in a pendant or something and Gimli always thought it was a powerful symbol of connection because of dwarvish customs related to hair yatta yatta and that's why he asked Galadriel for her hair, since it was a prominent symbol to him growing up or something eurrghh ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡

Bifur touches everyone a lot since he can't verbalize everything effectively. It's a lot of little nudges to get someone's attention, gently moving someone to get past, or a pat and nod to say hello. He adapted to using body language to convey his thoughts, so he's comfortable touching others but is also conscious of how they feel about being touched. He's almost like a pillar of the Company; he's looming close by to offer a comforting presence, or a quiet shoulder to lean on. He tries to have constant contact with you, whether that be holding hands or just sitting with your shoulders smushed together. His touch feels quiet yet overwhelming. It's rough but gentle, warm but sends a chill up your spine. He's very romantic in how he traces lovely words onto your skin, whispering secrets to you without ever saying a word.

Bofur is so affectionate. He loves his fellow dwarves without shame and will show it in any number of ways no matter how many people stare. This dude ABSOLUTELY boops noses. Just imagine Dwalin being super serious about something just for Bofur to go *boop* and promptly sprint away Jack Sparrow style as Dwalin Michael Myers walks after him while the rest of the Company cackles. Somebody is cold, Bofur's got two arms for ya. Somebody is tired, Bofur's got a shoulder ripe for the sleepin on. And he will absolutely put his head on top of theirs. If he isn't hugging on someone else, he's on you. He's always happy to wrap his arms around you and do anything aforementioned, but he does get a little nervous sometimes in more intimate settings. He's all charm when he's tucking your hair behind your ear with a wink or pressing his hand to the back of your neck to bring your head closer for a forehead kiss, but he melts whenever you lay your head on his chest and play with his hands. He gets a tickly feeling and finds himself rubbing his neck as a sheepish chuckle falls from his lips.

and last but not least

Dwalin:

You have to be very persistent with Dwalin. He is not necessarily hostile, but he's certainly bristly in the early days. He's almost frustrated with himself when he realises that he's in love with you - your relentlessness and determination to know him are irksome but they help you in wiggling your way into his heart. Once he tolerates you enough to actually pay attention to your little 'conversations' (his replies are usually grunts or single syllables), he becomes interested in you. You make him want to be more open and less gruff, he wants to put effort in, for you.

Thorin:

There's no way to sugar-coat it, Thorin is irritated by your presence at first. He's had poor experiences with humans in the past, and has little reason to trust you until you prove yourself to him. Though, if you are patient and understanding, he grows to tolerate and eventually appreciate your presence. He finds that having such a different perspective can be valuable, and looking at the world through your eyes for that moment helps to change his perspective. Thorin never envisioned himself falling for a human, but now he can't imagine being without your wit, your kindness, your smile...

He might be down bad but will deny it for a long time.

Kili:

Kili really couldn't care less about your race. He falls in love with you for you and, while he values the opinions of his kin, he doesn't believe that humans are as bad as some say. He's eager to learn about your culture, wanting to participate in whatever traditions you may have that you'd like to share with him. In return, he'd love to show you the ways of the dwarves, trusting you deeply enough to give you 'insider knowledge'.

Fili:

✧ Very relieved that he can give you proper dwarvish steel and armour, even when you aren’t sure you’ll find a set.

✧ Drags you into Erebor’s armoury to make sure there’s something for you, and there’s a second of silence as he checks your measurements. You both hope the blush on your faces isn’t too obvious.

✧ Thorin is also grateful you’re not much taller than him, because it makes it that much easier to dip you.

✧ And he can give you a quick kiss without needing to ask you to bend down.

𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐢

✧ You’re still taller than him, but not by an uncomfortable amount. And he’s completely fine with that.

✧ He still greets you with the same bow he greets Bilbo with, except this time there’s a wink.

✧ Doesn’t particularly care that you’re human and not a dwarrowdam - he can still love you just as well.

✧ It also means when he gives you one of his knives it still fits perfectly in your hands. Which means that, when he can make you a knife, he only has to worry about making it worthy of you and not about proportions.

✧ Sometimes tries to braid your hair standing up, if he’s got nothing better to do, but often asks you to sit down so he can do something more elaborate.

✧ (Is secretly sad that he can’t give you surprise kisses if you’re not already bending down.)

✧ Very excited to show you the jewellery still in the mountain.

✧ Both because he thinks it looks beautiful, and because you have a bet the majority won’t fit you.

𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐢

✧ Is the one who gets teased the most, out of the company. He’s also the one who’s most obviously in love with you.

✧ Kíli is almost late to his bow when he first sees you, instead staring for a bit too long before hurrying to dip down alongside his brother.

✧ Also the dwarf who most easily puts away his pride when he asks you to kiss him. You have to dip slightly, but in the second you do his eyes completely light up as you close the gap.

✧ Still big on hand-holding, even though he needs to have his arm slightly up for you.

✧ Really enjoys you braiding his hair, finds it very relaxing and almost completely leans into you when you do it.

✧ Is also happy to braid your hair, although that requires a little less spontaneity and a place for the two of you to sit together.

✧ Has a specific tug on your hand he uses to signal that he wants a kiss. It’s adorable, and also very obvious because he always starts blushing.

𝐃𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧

✧ If anyone is going to be taller than you, it’ll be Dwalin.

✧ Although he’s very grateful that he’s not massively taller than you - that at most it’s an inch or two. Because otherwise he’d be missing out on so many of his favourite things.

✧ He’d be missing out on seeing your smile so clearly, he’d be missing out on looking easily into your eyes as he says he loves you, he’d be missing out on easily being able to kiss you. The list goes on.

✧ Dwalin is one of the least obvious with his affections to you, but to almost everyone else in the company he’s obviously smitted.

✧ Makes a conscious effort to be gentle around you, although you reassure him he doesn’t have to be.

✧ You like his height because it makes it much less awkward for him to pick you up off your feet and twirl you.

✧ (But he’s probably strong enough to do that even if you’re a lot taller.)

𝐁𝐨𝐟𝐮𝐫

✧ An inside joke between the two of you is that, with the hat, you’re the same height. Of course this isn’t actually true unless he’s wearing a top hat.

✧ Which he does get, after Erebor is reclaimed. It’s just tall enough - and perfectly fitted - although depending on the height difference it does start to look comically tall.

✧ Doesn’t mind the height difference at all, it doesn’t stop him from admiring you.

✧ It does, however, make him leave a lot more ‘mess’ around his workspace in the form of wooden blocks.

✧ He can then easily kiss you when on them (although denies it if asked by anyone but you).

✧ Just tall enough to be able to dip you - and is very happy about this fact.

✧ Also grateful you're not much taller, because it means the toys he sometimes makes can still fit easily in your hands and he doesn’t have to adjust them.

✧ (He certainly would adjust them for you, however.)

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐛𝐨

✧ Largest height difference of any characters here. Would not let that stop him in any way.

✧ Except perhaps a little frown at the fact it’s harder for him to kiss you whenever he wants.

✧ However, he’s completely fine with walking up to you when you’re not busy and doing puppy-dog eyes.

✧ “Can I have a kiss, my love?”

✧ Is sad about the fact he can’t dip you. Doesn’t know how to feel about the fact you can - and do - dip him.

✧ He enjoys it overall, he can actually initiate the kisses. (And is ok with being gently moved around, in the appropriate context.)

✧ Winces the first few times you come into his house and he sees you almost hit your head on the beams. Covers a lot of the ceiling in fabric and pushpins until he can get a more permanent solution.

✧ Hides behind you when there’s a mild conflict. But goes in front of you to protect you if there’s ever any actual danger.

A/N : Hope you enjoyed! I also have one for lord of the rings - although it's a lot more platonic - and it can be found here. Thanks again for requesting <3

The little dwarflings giggled, but shook their heads.

“Adad says you have the best stories!” Iona exclaimed.

“Tales from the kitchen, maybe?” Borur inquired; had you not known how sweet he was firsthand, you might’ve thought it was out of sarcasm. He was his father’s son through and through from his flame red hair to his love of nourishing others and all the fine details therein.

“Or what about when you first met Mister Dwalin?” Iona asked, flame-red curls bouncing in her excitement and little pink lips grinning. She had her father's hair, but in her likeness took after Erna— no wonder Bombur was wrapped around her little finger!

Perhaps you were, too, as you found yourself scooping her up into your arms, smiling as her giggling grin was held right up to yours. “Oh, you pretty thing, just like your mother! She’s a romantic, too. And that is a wonderful, wonderful story. It might get a little scary for you, though.”

“I’m brave!” Iona protested, her rosy oval-shaped face contorting in the most endearing attempt at a battle-hardened frown you have ever the pleasure of witnessing.

“We can handle it,” Borur promised, his big blue eyes glistening with determination, “Adad already told us about the dragon. About how he got the bellows working so King Thorin could drown him and the way Cousin Bifur got the axe ripped out of his—”

“Alright, alright,” you set his sister down, chuckling, “Just let me finish my crumb and I shall share it all. But you must promise me if you get scared that you will tell me straightaway!”

"Fine! Fine!"

"Good. Now settle on the davenport and allow me to sprinkle my magic!"

The children tore off across the stone floor, little feet slapping hard mountain hollow before setting off and tumbling them across velvet. The davenport had been a gift from your mother-in-law, a gorgeous turquoise thing lovingly embroidered with golden thread. You trusted Borur and Iona on it, though. Not the baby, though. Too messy. Then again, if there was any soul to be worried about, it was Fili's baby— for a future queen, she sure had no concern for what went where! No furniture for her quite yet save the changing table.

Your buttery magic was quickly spread and nestled beneath oven fire to those rather contradictory thoughts, sending you rinsing off once more and back out the door along the same path as your visitors.

"So, you want to hear the story of how we met, then?"

~

Sweat beaded upon your brow beneath your helm, a great heavy encumbrance you almost hope got tossed off in the thick of things. You had more than your wits around you, after all— you'd be fine. Your hammer had been inset with a ring of mythril in the center; not cheap, but not easy to break, either. You and your brother's hard work in the mines had wrought those riches from the earth and what better way to display them than pounding in an orc's skull with their fortitude? Your brother had gone the more traditional mail piece route. Understandable.

Dain was leader enough, a dwarf you could stand behind in battle...well, from enough distance away from his swing. Thorin, son of Thrain, however? Now that was a prince with an honorable bearing. Whose words came a bit softer and with more thought, who did not shout for glory on the battlefield, but for the strength of your people.

Khazad-dûm had been overrun. Swarms you laughed in the howling faces of poured up onto the hills surrounding your stronghold; planting your feet, you tightened your grip on your hammer and hoisted it a bit higher.

“Come on, then!” A voice some yards away bellowed. “Do your worst!”

Tearing your gaze away from the coming onslaught was folly and yet you found your head sparing the motion, facing you with a dwarf around your age. An axe in each hand, he stood very similar to you, feet planted confidently on your sacred ground. He was a bit taller than you, tattooed across the fingers and with thick silver beads at the base of his beard. His brown hair was shaven to a stiff peak at the center of his head, tall and proud as he himself was. A strong nose and goading expression that faded to deadly stone eyes. It was a mere second, but his gaze swiveled slightly and met yours with a grin and nod of respect. He must have been of the Erebor dwarrow, here alongside Thorin, for who would delight so upon seeing a dwarrowdam in armor beside one who’d fought with princess Dís?

Well, you’d be happy to prove such thought correct. Surging forward, you bashed an orc’s head in so hard he recoiled, tumbling back and knocking his neighbor over hard enough for you to take him out too. Your next target was taken out by the arrow of a fiery-haired dwarrowdam you recognized as your friend Bel. Her smile at you quickly fell, and turning at the last minute you managed to see and narrowly deflect an arrow with a heavy swing. The butt of a mace smacked you in the shoulder, dull pain faltering you long enough for a scimitar to swing your way. Dropping to the ground, you winced at the reverberating echo through your armor before rolling, sending your hammer crashing between the legs of another orc. Laughter echoed at your side.

“That’s the spirit, lass!”

It was that dwarf you’d seen again, this time congratulating you on your strategically-placed swing. Before you could reply, another scimitar slash cut between you two; you attempted a feint, but before your reaction swing could even be made your assailant’s head tumbled off his shoulders. As the body fell, a squirt of pitch-black blood catching the toe of your boot, your mystery ally grinned down at you.

“Steal my kill again and you’ll see how my last kill felt!”

Another bellow of laughter rose above screams and crashing bodies and clanging metal and then he ran off, slashing two more orcs at the shoulder. Cries rang out as across the battlefield Azog, the Pale Orc, took a massive swing at Erebor’s reinforcements. The tang of blood, the echoing screams, the sweat pouring from the sunlit steel of your helmet, all had your heart hammering and lungs heaving, but beyond them all fires of pure anger burned. White-hot and true it spurred you back on into the fray, taking mere seconds to catch your breath before introducing mythril to the skulls of more of those wretches.

Plowing through the crowd, you roared, only stopping your hammering rampage long enough to help Bel back to her feet and tut and shake your head when she insisted she was fine. Your muscles burned as you knelt to take her hand and stand, but relief cooled them as quickly when she clapped a hand to your shoulder and gave you a nod, blue eyes firm and reassuring.

“Don’t make me have to drag you to the medic’s tents.”

“I could say the same to you, missy,” Bel shot back.

“Stay safe out there,” you whispered one last time before running off into the fray.

Three more orcs deep and you saw your other new friend nodding to another dwarf, this one so richly armored you’d have thought him a royal if you hadn’t seen the prince already. That very same dwarf gave a look of apprehension before he was swiftly lifted into Dwalin’s arms and unceremoniously tossed down an overlook of stone into a swarm of orcs in the time it took for him to draw his sword. Next he jumped, springing off the edge in a whirlwind of axes.

The flurry didn’t last long, though, before you caught sight of another axe—one of orcish make—rising above the rest and crashing down hard. A sickening crunch resounded alongside the blade sticking into something much softer than armor.

“No!” You heard the scream rather than felt yourself produce it, ears ringing as you barreled forward. Dodging past one of your fellows slicing his quarry’s sword arm off, you all but leapt over to the edge of the stacked stone.

Peering down availed you the sight of blood. Crimson blood. You’d known it was coming, but still the sight of those red rivulets striking against tawny greyish stone had you staggering back. Which one of the pair had been hit? Was he alive?

Pain lanced through your shoulder before you found your answer, a dull thunk slipping into your searing skin. A glance down showed you what you already knew: you’d been hit by an arrow. Well, there went jumping.

Blood pounded in your ears as you dropped to your knees, rough stone scraping the outer scales of your armor skirt. Stings wracked you with every motion; willing your left arm still, you slid down. No tossing you. No dramatic effect. Most of the orcs were dead, the uninjured dwarf picking off the stragglers, black spattering his beautifully crafted armor.

“You! What is your name?”

Blue eyes wide, he looked over at you, shaking from the rush of it all. “Dori, ma’am.”

“Who is he?”

A glance downward, sweeping the slaughtered as if you’d asked for an orc and not the sole other of your kind lain there. “Dwalin.”

“Well, give Dwalin to me. We both need a trip east, if you know what I mean.”

Another glance, this time at your shoulder, and more goggling. “Well, yes ma’am, but Dwalin. He’s proud and—”

“Will he be proud of laying down and dying without a shot of a bandage?”

“…No, I suppose not.” Arrows sailed above and iron still clashed, but for a brief moment your trio had silence. Stillness broken only by the sounds of Dori aiding your drag of Dwalin to his feet. Each of you slung a sturdy arm over your shoulders, you far more gingerly, and with a wince you dashed for it.

Every jostle of his steel-encrusted arm upon you elicited a gasp of pain. For what felt like an hour you hurried, Dain’s units surrounding you as you went, your blood and Dwalin’s oozing together down your shoulder pad and breastplate. It was probably only minutes, but as your vision reddened and blurred and Dwalin’s head dropped over his chest, you prayed to Mahal for every second.

~

Your eyes shot open and another gasp escaped your lips. From darkness you made to sat up, only for lightning to course down your left arm. A whimper escaped your lips, but as you palmed the floor with your right arm you cared not. Sitting up and looking down availed you the sight of bandages wrapping across your chest and shoulder, your torso otherwise bare. Bare, bloodied, alive.

“Feelin’ the wind there?”

Blinking and starting at the sharp brush of sleep in the corner of your eyes, you turned to meet the vaguely familiar voice. Beard with great silver beads. Brown hair shaven down. Tattooed fingers.

“Dwalin?”

“That’s right.”

“And for your information, I’ve earned a little time out of my clothes, thank you very much.”

“That- that’s the spirit, lass,” he chuckled low and weak, but mischief and a great light of spirit still glistened in his eyes, “And thank you. I know what you did back there. Dori told me.”

Heat crept up your cheeks as his expression changed, hardened features softening considerably and looking to you with great focus. “Would you not have done the same?”

“Sure I would have. I liked the part about me not being proud of just layin’ down and dyin’.”

“Well,” you shrugged— well, shrugged just your right shoulder up, “I wouldn’t be either.”

For once, this got a small smile out of Dwalin. Not a wicked grin or that natural frown, just a soft thing that made you smile back just the same. “I… er, Dori ‘n’ me never got your name.”

~

Four big ol’ saucer eyes were back staring at you again.

“You were in a battle?” Iona broke the silence, her pale lips flushed with excitement and parted widely in shock.

“Is that so surprising?” You teased, resting a hand on your hip and fixing them with mock-scrutiny. “You think I couldn’t handle myself?”

Borur shook his head. “But you are just so sweet and you make such wonderful things.”

“I’ve settled down,” you shrugged, clasping your hands before you, “I am very lucky to be safe and have a home. We didn’t always have that. Many of us did not even have a place to being up our little ones like you.”

“Ooh,” they hummed in their little unison.

“The little ones of my own we may soon have…”

“Ooh.”

“And trust me, little pups,” you continued, shaking out your reverie and leaning in closer, “When you’re older you will understand. When you have a home you love or maybe even someone special you will do anything to keep them safe. Now, who wants apple strudel?”

“I want some!” Borur shot up straight, grinning. He was so like his father, the dear. You couldn’t help smiling back down at him, barely resisting the swelling urge to reach down and pinch his cheeks.

“I want to hammer some orcs!” Iona cheered, her tiny hands in the air.

Barely suppressing a snort, you reached down and ruffled her curls. “Maybe someday. Will demolishing some strudel suffice for now?”

Breaking into a wide smile, little hazel eyes turning up in pleasure. “You have a hammer, Mister Dwalin has his axes, and I have my fork!”

If you had your way, you’d be dragging Dwalin to the smithy soon. Surely they could make a tiny hammer. It may not be made with mythril, but by Mahal, it would be made with love. Even if your husband had to scare it into them.

・An in love Dwalin is unrecognisable.

・Smiling, giddy, rosey-cheeked.

・Absolutely tickled pink!

・So when he sees you in the morning, the first thing he does is rub his nose against yours and sighs.

"You are beautiful, my love." His eyes roam over your own. Searching for something, someone, a word, or a ... a meaning.

"I love you," you murmur back. Moving the hair from his face.

・The love he shares for you is the same that you share for him. Limitless. Unbound.

・Dwalin does anything for you. Everything for you. At home, he's built a fireplace, a book-nook which really is just a room for reading.

・You make him jewellery in return, things that he cherishes.

・You always ask him to braid your hair and he aways agrees (no matter how tired, annoyed or hungry he is.)

・You share making dinner; one night you do it and the next, he does it etc.

・You love babysitting and do it for family/friends all the time

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Fated Mates

Opposites Attract

True Loves Kiss

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Challenging Social Conventions

Love Transcending Boundaries

Legacy and Legend

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

The Wolf by Fever Ray

Would That I by Hozier