#dwalinxreader

Dwalin had been courting you in secret.  

Warning: very little angst with comfort. 

The sun was setting over Erebor, casting long shadows across the mountain’s towering gates. You stood there, arms crossed tightly over your chest, trying to quell the rising tide of anxiety in your heart. The hunting party—Dwalin, Thorin, and Fili—should have been back a day ago. It wasn’t unusual for hunting trips to run long, but something about this felt... wrong. You had been pacing the great hall since dawn, waiting for any word. 

Beside you, Kili leaned casually against the stone wall, his bow slung across his back, his usual easy grin replaced by a look of concern. “They’re fine,” he said, trying to reassure you. “You know Dwalin. Stubborn as a mountain. Probably just decided to chase some game halfway to Mirkwood.” 

You shot him a look. “You don’t believe that any more than I do.” 

Kili sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, I don’t. But I also don’t think sitting here fretting is going to help.” He straightened, his sharp eyes glinting with determination. “Let’s go find them.” 

The suggestion was exactly what you’d been waiting for. You nodded, relief washing over you. “Let’s.” 

Grabbing your weapons, the two of you set out, following the trail the hunting party had taken days before. The terrain grew rugged as you ventured farther from the mountain, the air growing colder as the sun disappeared behind the horizon. You and Kili moved quickly, your steps quiet and precise, each of you alert for any sign of trouble. 

After hours of tracking, you finally came across a clue—a broken arrow lodged in the ground, its shaft splintered as though it had been struck in a scuffle. 

“Fili’s,” Kili said grimly, examining the arrowhead. “Something happened here.” 

Your heart clenched. “We have to hurry.” 

The Rescue 

It was nearly dawn when you and Kili finally found them. The trio had taken shelter in a rocky hollow, their campfire little more than embers. Thorin sat against the wall, clutching his arm, which was hastily bandaged. Fili lay nearby, his face pale but peaceful, clearly exhausted from whatever ordeal they had faced. And Dwalin—your Dwalin—stood on guard, his axe in hand, his face set in a scowl as he scanned the surrounding area. His armor was scuffed, and a dark bruise was forming on his temple, but otherwise, he seemed unharmed. 

“Dwalin!” you called, relief flooding your voice as you rushed toward him. 

His head snapped up at the sound of your voice, his icy blue eyes widening in surprise. “Y/N? What are you—?” 

Before he could finish, you closed the distance between you, throwing your arms around him in a fierce embrace. The tension in his body melted the moment you touched him, and his arms wrapped around you just as tightly, his face burying into your hair. 

“I thought—I thought something had happened to you,” you murmured, your voice thick with emotion. “You didn’t come back, and no one knew what was going on—” 

“I’m fine,” he said gruffly, though his tone was softer than usual. “We’re all fine. A pack of wargs caught us off guard. Fili got a nasty knock to the head, and Thorin’s arm’s worse than it looks, but we handled it. Just... took longer than we planned.” 

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands still clutching his shoulders. “You should have sent word.” 

Dwalin frowned, his thumb brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Couldn’t risk splitting up the group. But I’m sorry, lass. Should’ve been back by now.” 

It was then that you remembered you weren’t alone. Kili’s voice broke the moment like a sharp blade. 

“Well, well,” he said, a teasing lilt in his voice. “I was wondering why you seemed so eager to charge out here, Y/N. Looks like I’ve got my answer.” 

You froze, your cheeks flushing as you realized you’d just revealed far more than you’d intended. Slowly, you turned to face Kili, who was standing there with his arms crossed and a sly grin spreading across his face. 

“Kili...” you began, but he held up a hand to stop you. 

“No, no, don’t mind me,” he said, his grin widening. “This is far more entertaining than anything I was expecting. Dwalin, care to explain?” 

Dwalin glared at him, his arms still protectively around you. “None of your business, lad.” 

“Oh, but it is,” Kili said, clearly enjoying himself now. “You’ve been sneaking around with Y/N this whole time, haven’t you? And here I thought you were just grumpy because that’s your natural state.” 

“Kili,” you said warningly, though you couldn’t quite keep the smile off your face. “Don’t push your luck.” 

Thorin’s voice, rough and authoritative, cut through the conversation. “Enough, Kili.” 

All eyes turned to the King Under the Mountain, who was watching the scene with a mixture of curiosity and amusement despite his obvious injury. “If they’ve chosen to keep this private, that’s their decision. Let’s not make it more difficult than it needs to be.” 

Kili rolled his eyes but backed off, muttering something about “grumpy old dwarves” under his breath. 

You looked up at Dwalin, your heart still racing. “I suppose the secret’s out now.” 

“Aye,” Dwalin said, his voice low and steady. “Not how I’d planned it, but... maybe it’s for the best.” 

You smiled, resting a hand on his chest. “I don’t care who knows. I just care that you’re safe.” 

Dwalin’s expression softened, and for a moment, the world around you faded away. “I’ll always come back to you, lass,” he said quietly, his forehead pressing against yours. 

The tender moment was interrupted by Fili’s groggy voice. “Can we save the romance for later? Some of us are still half-dead over here.” 

You and Dwalin both chuckled, breaking apart reluctantly. “Let’s get them back to Erebor,” you said, glancing at Kili and Fili. “They’ve clearly had enough adventure for one trip.” 

Dwalin nodded, his hand lingering on yours for a moment before stepping back. “Aye. Let’s go home.” 

As the group began the journey back, Kili couldn’t resist one last jab. “You know, Dwalin, I always thought you had a soft side. Didn’t think I’d live to see it.” 

Posted! Moodboard for my fanfic: The Doubts of a Warrior's Heart [AO3]

Thorin: It is deep into the night. The two of you on watch. There's the smell of woodsmoke and pipe tobacco. The sound of owls and croaking frogs. You don't say much. Listen to the steady sound of Thorin's breathing. Watch the night stars.

It's at night it hits you the hardest. With no one to speak to or distract you. The heavy pangs of homesickness. It turns your guts. Makes you worry, sick.

"Y/n?" You heard Thorin rumble from beside you. Unlike the others he's still the only one to call you by your name. No nicknames. "You are going to hurt yourself if you continue to do that." He pulls your hands apart. The skin is red on the back of your non-dominant hand. When did you?

"Your mind is heavy." You look at him. And with burning ears you look away.

"I suppose." You tell him going back to looking out in the distance. You squint your eyes. Trying to make out something in the darkness.

"There is nothing out there." Thorin tells you. You scoff. Shake your head.

"And how can you tell?" Thorin chuckles.

"Dwarves have keener eyes in the dark than man." It is then you realize Thorin has most likely seen you every time you've made a face or stuck your tongue out at him.

Thorin brushes the back of his hand against your arm. "What ails you?" You say nothing. Shrug.

"It's nothing. Honestly." You tell him. And truly were you to burden him with these thoughts?He has enough on his plate.

Thorin's staring at you. Looking at you as if he were pulling you apart piece by piece. Smoke bellows from his lips. His eyes dart. Then, once again, he separates your hands. This time holding one in his.

It's comforting. You think. A grounding warmth. It's safe.

"It is something. If the mere thought of it makes you hurt yourself Givashith*." He turns your hand. Rubs his thumb across your knuckles. "So tell me. So that I may ease your mind."

You begin to pull in on yourself. Thorin says nothing. Only watched as you pulled his hand towards you. Fiddle with his rings. Twisting them around his fingers. You take a breath. Ground yourself.

"I miss home. That's all." Still you stare at his hand. Wait for a laugh. A mock surely. You miss home. He lost his. His people. Your family is still safe and.

"Relax. You are not being judged." He pulls his hand away. Wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer. He pauses. Waits to see if you'll move.

As if. It's comforting. The smell of him. Rich leather and tobacco smoke. His arm was heavy around you. You leaned closer. Resting your head on him. You felt Thorin tighten his hold around you.

Safe. It was safe here.

"I know that feeling. Missing home. You worry for your family. Your friends. It weighs on you. Pulls you down. The wondering if they are safe or not." You could feel the vibration in his chest as he speaks. Feel the tears in your eyes well. Threaten to spill.

"I would tell you not to worry if I knew it would do you good." Thorin exhaled smoke. Tamped out his pipe. "But I can assure you that you will be kept safe with us. We will find you a way home if we can. Search the ends of Middle Earth for what sent you here. To us." Thorin's head lowered and he brushed away the tears that fell.

"Until then. You will have a home always, in Erebor. Our home. You have helped my Company. I will help you. In this life and the next." The tears fell more freely. "You are apart of my Company. My people. And for as long as you remain, under my protection." He pulled you in. Held you tightly. "I do not say this nearly enough. But you are a gift sent to us. My little Khajimel*. A guiding star in these dark times. Stay. And I will give you a home."

* Givashith: Treasure that is young.

* Khajimel: Gift of all gifts.

Fili: The day had been long. Tiring. At the very least the group had gotten to bathe in the river. The cool water welcomed in the summer heat.

As you were washing you noticed the chipped paint on your nails. Most laid bare save for one or two stubborn blue blotches.

When you got back to camp you pulled your pack into your lap. Digging out a small bag stuffed with things from home you couldn't bear to part with. Out of it came your phone. Long dead. Car keys, chapstick. Mints which you stuck into your pocket. A lighter, a paper bound book and. There! Gods knew how it was still in one piece. Or how you still had it. But it was there. Half empty. But there. Your nail polish.

For the most part the group ignored you. Busy re-braiding their hair or stitching up holes in their clothes. So you left in peace to repaint your nails. A sense of normalcy you hadn't had in months.

Until it came to paint the nails of your dominant hand. You grumbled. Muttered curses.

"What are you doing?" Fili asked. Sitting across from you. You look up. Noticed most of his hair was still loose. Still damp from the river.

"Painting my nails?" More a question than an answer. You held your finished hand up. Fili took it in his. Studied your now blue nails.

"What is it?" He asked still holding your hand.

"It's nail polish? Do you not have that here?" You asked. Fili shook his head. Still holding your hand."Don't touch it!" You almost yelled. "You'll smudge it because it's not dry yet."

"Sorry." He told you. You gave a laugh and took back your hand. Picking the bottle back up to restart your other hand. Or were. Fili stopped you. Took the bottle.

"May I?" He asked. "Paint your nails. I mean." You face flushed. On one hand you didn't have to paint your other hand and mess it up. But also. Fili got to hold your hand.

Actually. That's not bad.

"Ya. Go ahead." Oh ya. Real smooth. Your voice squeaked when you said that. Fili smiles. Laughs. Blasted dwarf.

Fili took your hand in his . Pulled the brush from the bottle. His nose scrunches. "It smells weird." You shrug your shoulders.

"It goes away after the paint dries for a while." With little else to do Fili painted your nails.

It sends butterflies to your stomach. The way he was treating you. Softly. Gently. Careful not to turn your fingers too far. Made sure not to smudge the paint.

"There." He told you. All too soon it ended. "It's very pretty." His fingers brush your palm as he pulls away. "Almost as pretty as you." At that your faced burned. Feeling as if though you would combust you'd sputtered out a thank you.

For what you weren't sure.

Dwalin: You know. You were pretty sure that this was how you were gonna die.

Sure. You did have a part in The Battle of Five Armies. And maybe you did help Slayer Azog the Defiler. You certainly had the scars to show for it.

But this was Dwalin. The dwarf you were sure wanted you dead for most of the journey. It sure felt like it with all the quick lessons he would give you every time the Company rested.

He trained you as if each lesson could end in your death. In the end you learned it was because he cared for you. Worried about your safety as one the most inexperienced in the group.

It was because of his training you lived. Through Goblin Town in Mirkwood. Against the orcs and against Azog.

It was because if Dwalin you were able to keep the Durins' safe. And it was Dwalin you carried your battered body to the healers tent. It was him who stayed by your side until you woke.

It was because of that you were here now. A wooden training sword in hand. Weighted with led to mimic a real one. Dwalin across from you. Seeming like a towering giant at the end of the beanstalk.

Your breathing was heavy. Focused. You hung to every word he told you. Went through drills more familiar to you than the roads of your hometown. You knew it set his mind at ease. Always to keep you safe until he could come. It made your heart warm that he cares so deeply.

Dwalin cared for you like family. With it came an undying loyalty.

For the fifth time that day the wooden sword was knocked from your hands. For the first time you were able to move. A quick roll and a spring from your legs. An unseen pull of the short swords at your hips.

The smile in Dwalins face was nothing short of brilliant. His loud laugh and words of praise filled you with pride.

"Rest pebble." Both of you were breathing heavily. Clothing stuck to sweaty skin. "I'll go and get the water. Wait here." You did. Immediately sitting on the floor when he left as to catch your breath. A smile still at your lips. Both from success and Dwalins praise.

You found it funny he still called you pebble despite your age. An adult by the terms of man. Still a child in most dwarven eyes.

You heard the doors open and close to the training room. A group of young dwarves spilling in. Loudly to.

You stood moving away from the floor to give them space. Instead you sat on the bench that held the shedded outerwear of yours and Dwalins clothes.

You picked up the small silver circlet that marked you as the family of Durin. It was Thorins hands that made it.

It was made of a thin silver. There was only one gem and it rested on your brow. The metal wove around itself to your temples. There it stopped at two ravens on either side. Thier wings held open in flight.

It was precious to you. Not for what it was made of. But from who it came from and what it stood for.

.

You knew Dwalin was going to give you an earful later. You hadn't noticed that the same group of Dwarves came up to you.

"You're y/n. Right? The so called "Slayer of Azog "?" You cringed. Died a little bit on the inside. They laughed as if it were the funniest thing in the world.

It wasn't even the proper title.

"Depends on why you're asking." You told them. Every warning bell your body had to offer was going off. The group numbered three and we're trying to surround you on the bench.

Your stood. Placed the circlet on your brow purely out of habbit. The redheaded dwarf. The one who asked the question, screwed his face in disgust.

"We only wish to meet the person who our King holds in such. High regard." Lord almighty. He could have just said he wanted to spill your guts with the amount of venom he spilled on those words.

Slowly you turned yourself towards the exit.

"Were friends." Family actually. But they didn't need to know that. The red head laughed. Shouldered the other two.

"We also came to see your skill. Surely you must be a fine warrior to have fought alongside the kings and Prince's." At this the others snorted.

Ya well. That was mostly luck and enough spite at life to not die on anyone's terms but your own. And the fact you were kinda pissed Thorin left you behind. Understandable but still.

"I." You shook your head. "No thanks." At that the red head smiled. It made you sick just to see it.

"There isn't a choice here. You will show us. We can't have the king with a weak "friend" can we?" He spat out the word friend as if he had personal beef with it.

They came closer. You stepped back. Still they came. You found your body moving without you telling it to. Shifting and moving into a more defensive posture.

"I have nothing to prove to you, Nidoy*" His face curled into a snarl. Clear disdain for that name. You'd call him worse but then would come the conversation from Balin on how you knew more swears than actual conversation in Khuzdul.

You'd blame Dwalin of course.

"That's sad. Really. I'd hoped you would be more willing." He gets cut off. The moment he made a move to grab you you threw an open palm. Connected the heel of your hand to his nose. Listened to his wail and the crack of bone.

He fell to his knees. Face in hand. Blood spilled from between his fingers. A string of curses left his lips. He barked out something in Khuzdul too quickly for you to fully understand.

The other two gripped your arms. Held so tightly you knew there would be bruises deep within your skin. You swallowed thickly.

When was Dwalin coming back.

Your answer was soon. Very soon.

The red head was in his feet one moment. Coming at you with a fury rivaling Smaug's.

Then he was gone. A blurr of movement in front of you. A cry that rattled your chest.

Dwalin.

The two holding you left quickly. Scrambling out the door and leaving their companion behind.

Dwalin looked murderous. Speaking rapidly in his native tongue. The dwarfs now bloodied shirt was held in one hand. His feet just brushing the floor.

Shit.

"Dwalin!" You yelled. Lord's above you were not about to break that up physically. "Dwalin!" Louder this time. More desperate. Shit please. "Dwalin!" At last he turned. Gaze softening when his eyes landed on you.

"Y/n?" He spoke. You swallowed thickly. Watched as the dwarf tried to run. Dwalin jerked at his shirt. Practically snarling for him to stay out. "Are you hurt?" You shook your head.

"No. I'm not." Dwalin sighed heavily. Shoved the now trembling dwarf.

"Go boy. Get your friends." He leaned forward. Whispered something in his ear that had the dwarfs face drain of color.

He ran. Scrambled to the door.

Dwalin came to you. Turning your head side to side. Checking your hands. Your ribs. He stopped at your arms. Large bruises already forming against your skin. Dwalin ran his fingers over it.

"I am sorry. Pebble. For not coming sooner." You shook your head. Punched his chest.

"Don't be. You can't control what they did. Or even have known it would happen." You pulled away. Looked up at him. "Dwalin. I'm safe now. Besides. I got a good hit in at least." At this Dwalin roared with laughter. Pulled you close.

"Aye. You did. You did."

"Dwalin. You're kinda squishing me."

A/N: I drabble no one asked for? You got it! Spreading some Dwalin love. Also, there’s gonna be a part two, since that’s the only way for me to keep on writing.

Taglist: @nerdbirdsworld​ @daydreamer-in-training​ @dreams-of-wander​ @bluemirkwood​

Pairing: Dwalin x Reader

Word count: 1807

Warnings: Mentions of sex

Dwalin was known as the grumpy and gruff dwarf but, beside everything he was a true fighter. He fought many battles and the scars were still visible. He may looked tough, but every warrior has a soft spot. Living in the Blue Mountains, he found himself in the forges everyday. Working hard and breaking many a sweat. Dwalin was a lonely dwarf who never wed. Not that he never wanted a wife, he just thought it wasn’t something for him. He could never picture himself with a wife and children. He was alone and he was content with it. Something Balin could never understand. But there were times Dwalin had needs as well. 

Warning: difficulty getting pregnant, no specifics 

The scent of spiced tea filled the room as you poured Balin a fresh cup, your hands trembling ever so slightly. You hoped he wouldn’t notice, but the elder dwarf was as sharp as ever. 

“Now, lass,” he said, settling back in his chair with a knowing smile. “You’ve been fussin’ over that teapot like it holds the Arkenstone. What’s on your mind?” 

You hesitated, your fingers gripping the handle of your own cup. The news you carried was something you’d dreamed of sharing for years, but now that the moment was here, words seemed to fail you. 

“I…” You took a deep breath, the joy bubbling up despite your nerves. “I’m with child, Balin.” 

For a moment, his expression froze, and then his entire face lit up with a grin so wide it made you laugh. “By Mahal’s beard! That’s wonderful news!” He leaned forward, his hands clasping yours. “How long have you known?” 

“Only a few days,” you admitted, a warm blush creeping into your cheeks. “I’ve been feeling different—more tired than usual—and Dis confirmed it for me.” 

“And you haven’t told Dwalin?” Balin’s eyes twinkled with mischief. 

“I don’t know how to tell him,” you confessed, biting your lip. “We’ve been trying for so long… what if he doesn’t believe me? Or—” 

“Rubbish,” Balin interrupted, his tone gentle but firm. “That brother of mine worships the ground you walk on. He’s going to be overjoyed.” 

You smiled at that, the thought of Dwalin’s reaction warming your heart. “I just want it to be perfect.” 

“Perfect, eh?” Balin stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Well, he’s off sharpening his axes just now. Why not tell him when he’s finished? A moment like this doesn’t need grand gestures, lass—it just needs you.” 

You nodded, your resolve strengthening. “Thank you, Balin.” 

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said with a chuckle. “You’ll have to put up with a lot of fussing from him now. Mark my words.” 

Telling Dwalin 

You found Dwalin in the armory, his broad shoulders hunched over the grindstone as he worked. The rhythmic scrape of metal against stone filled the room, and for a moment, you simply watched him. He looked so strong, so steady—yet the thought of him holding something as small and delicate as your child made your heart swell. 

“Dwalin,” you called softly, stepping into the room. 

He paused, glancing over his shoulder. The sight of you brought a rare smile to his face. “Lass,” he said, setting the axe aside. “What’s the matter? You look like you’ve got somethin’ to say.” 

Your nerves flared again, but you pushed through them, crossing the room to stand in front of him. “I do,” you admitted, taking his calloused hands in yours. “There’s something I need to tell you.” 

His brow furrowed, concern flashing in his blue eyes. “Are you all right?” 

“I’m more than all right,” you assured him, squeezing his hands. “I’m… Dwalin, I’m carrying our child.” 

For a moment, he just stared at you, his face unreadable. Then, as your words sank in, his eyes widened, and his mouth parted slightly. “You mean…?” His voice was hoarse, almost disbelieving. 

“Yes,” you said, tears pricking at your eyes. “We’re going to have a baby.” 

Dwalin let out a shaky breath, his hands tightening around yours as he pulled you into his arms. He held you so tightly it was as though he were afraid you might disappear. “By Mahal…” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “After all this time…” 

You buried your face against his chest, his warmth and strength enveloping you. “I was so nervous to tell you,” you admitted. 

“Nervous?” He pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression fierce but tender. “Lass, this is the greatest news I’ve ever heard.” 

His hand moved to your belly, resting there with a gentleness that seemed at odds with his rough exterior. “You’re carryin’ my child,” he said, his voice filled with wonder. “Our child.” 

You smiled through your tears, covering his hand with yours. “Our child.” 

Dwalin’s grin was rare but breathtaking, and he kissed you then—deeply, reverently—as though trying to convey all the love and joy he felt in that single moment. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were bright with unshed tears. 

“I’ll protect you both with my life,” he vowed, his voice steady and unyielding. “You have my word.” 

“I know,” you said, your heart full. “I’ve always known.” 

Dwalin being protective over your pebble 

The company’s first visit to the baby and mother 

The mountain was unusually quiet as the company tiptoed into your chambers, each dwarf trying (and failing) to stifle their excitement. Thorin led the way, his expression a careful mask of dignity, though the twinkle in his eyes betrayed his anticipation. Behind him, Fili and Kili practically tripped over one another, whispering loudly about who would get to hold the baby first. 

“Shh!” Balin hissed, waving a hand to quiet them. “You’ll wake the wee one!” 

“Not if we’re careful,” Kili whispered back with a grin, though his footsteps didn’t soften much. 

Dwalin stood at your side, his hand resting protectively on your shoulder as you sat in bed, cradling the tiny bundle. His ever-present scowl softened the moment he looked down at you and the baby, his rough hand brushing over your hair. “You sure you’re up for this circus, lass?” 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you replied with a tired smile. 

When the company finally gathered around, their awe was palpable. 

“By Mahal,” Thorin murmured, leaning in to get a better look. “The child looks strong.” 

“Like their mother,” Balin added with a wink, making you chuckle. 

Fili was the first to speak up, his voice hushed with excitement. “What’s their name?” 

“Duraina,” Dwalin answered gruffly, though his pride was clear in his voice. “After my mother.” 

“That’s a fine name,” Thorin said, nodding in approval. 

Kili, unable to contain himself any longer, leaned in with wide eyes. “Can I hold her?” 

Dwalin narrowed his gaze, clearly debating whether to trust the younger dwarf. But at your gentle nod, he relented, grumbling, “Just don’t drop her, lad.” 

Kili carefully scooped the baby into his arms, his face lighting up as Duraina squirmed and let out a tiny yawn. “She’s so small,” he marveled, rocking her gently. 

“Small now,” Fili teased, “but wait until she’s eating more than the rest of us combined.” 

The room filled with soft laughter as each member of the company took turns holding the baby, their usual boisterousness replaced by tenderness. Even Thorin, who rarely showed such open emotion, cradled Duraina with a quiet reverence. 

When they finally left, Balin lingered by the door. “She’s lucky to have you both,” he said warmly, his gaze flicking between you and Dwalin. “And so are we.” 

Dwalin’s arm tightened around your shoulders as he watched them go, his voice soft in your ear. “They’ll be good for her,” he said. “But no one’s takin’ her from us.” 

You leaned against him, your heart full. “She’s loved, Dwalin. That’s all that matters.” 

Dwalin fussing over your sick pebble 

Duraina’s tiny cough echoed in the room, and Dwalin nearly jumped out of his skin. “She’s coughin’ again,” he muttered, pacing back and forth in front of the hearth. “That’s the third time in an hour.” 

“She’s fine, Dwalin,” you said gently, though you couldn’t hide your own worry as you rocked the little girl in your arms. Her face was flushed, and her breathing was heavier than usual, but Dis had assured you earlier that it was nothing more than a mild fever. 

“Fine?” Dwalin growled, running a hand over his bald head. “She’s burning up! She’s—she’s—” He waved his hands, lost for words, and then stormed toward the door. “I’ll get Oin.” 

“Oin was already here,” you reminded him, your voice calm despite your nerves. “He said she just needs rest and some herbs.” 

Dwalin stopped in his tracks, glaring at the door as though debating whether to drag Oin back anyway. “Rest,” he grumbled. “How’s a bairn supposed to rest when she’s coughin’ like that?” 

You sighed, reaching out to touch his arm. “Come here, Dwalin.” 

He hesitated, then approached you and the child, his rough demeanor melting away as he knelt beside the chair. His large hand came to rest on Duraina’s back, his touch impossibly gentle. 

“She’ll get through this,” you said softly, watching as his thumb brushed over her tiny shoulder. “She’s strong, just like her father.” 

Dwalin’s jaw clenched, his eyes fixed on the baby’s face. “I’d give anything to take it from her,” he murmured. “Anything.” 

You reached out, cupping his cheek and guiding his gaze to yours. “She’ll be fine, Dwalin. And she’s lucky to have a father who cares so much.” 

His shoulders sagged as he exhaled, leaning his forehead against your knee. “Aye, well… it’s just—she’s so small.” 

You smiled, brushing your fingers over his stubbled cheek. “Small, but mighty. Just like her da.” 

Dwalin let out a soft laugh, his hand moving to cover yours. “She gets her might from you, lass.” 

As if on cue, Duraina stirred, her tiny hand reaching out to grasp Dwalin’s thumb. He froze, his expression softening as he watched her grip tighten around his finger. 

“She’s a fighter,” he said quietly, his voice filled with awe. 

“And she’s loved,” you added, leaning down to kiss his head. “That’s all that matters.” 

Balin meddels in his brothers love life, with the best intentions of course. 

The great hall of Erebor was a place of laughter and camaraderie that evening. The dwarves were celebrating the completion of yet another section of the mountain’s restoration, and the sounds of clinking mugs and the fire’s crackling warmth filled the air. Balin, as always, was at the heart of the conversation, telling tales of their journey to reclaim Erebor, his silver beard glinting in the firelight as he spoke. 

But as the laughter and clatter of the night grew louder, one particular dwarf was sitting a little too quietly, brooding in his usual spot near the edge of the room. 

Dwalin, his brother’s constant companion and the gruff warrior who had fought through the fiercest of battles, was staring into his mug, his eyes distant. He'd been like this for days, ever since the company returned to Erebor. Something had shifted in him, though neither Balin nor anyone else could put a finger on exactly what. He wasn’t quite himself, distant and distracted. 

Balin watched his younger brother for a while from across the room, observing how Dwalin’s blue eyes occasionally flicked to you as you chatted with some of the other dwarves nearby. You were laughing, bright and open, so effortlessly charming. And there was something about the way Dwalin looked at you that caught Balin’s attention. It wasn’t the usual gruff glances or the judgmental stare he had for others who dared disturb the peace of Erebor. No, this was different. There was something deeper in his eyes, something more uncertain, even vulnerable. 

Balin chuckled to himself, stroking his beard thoughtfully. Ah, my stubborn brother, he thought. He needs a little push. 

Dwalin had been practically tripping over himself when it came to you, but for reasons Balin couldn't understand, he hadn’t made a move. And now that the halls of Erebor were buzzing with the beginnings of peace, and there was talk of festivals and merrymaking, it was high time Dwalin stopped hiding behind his pride. 

After a while, Balin stood from his place at the table and made his way toward you, his steps light, but deliberate. He had a plan. 

“Y/N,” Balin greeted you warmly as he approached, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “How are you enjoying the evening?” 

You smiled at him, your eyes lighting up in recognition. “Oh, Balin! The night’s been lovely so far. It’s so nice to see everyone together, celebrating.” 

“Aye, it’s been a long time coming,” Balin agreed, his gaze briefly flicking over to where Dwalin still sat, grumbling under his breath, a drink in hand. “But you know,” Balin said casually, “I’ve been noticing that there’s one particular dwarf who’s been very quiet tonight.” 

You followed his line of sight, glancing over at Dwalin, and then back to Balin with a small smile. “Dwalin? He’s always quiet. I think he’s just tired after all the work rebuilding Erebor.” 

Balin raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk forming on his lips. “Oh, he’s tired, all right. Tired of something else, I’d wager.” 

Your curiosity piqued, you tilted your head. “What do you mean?” 

Balin leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “I’ve been watching him. And I think he’s been staring at you every time you’ve walked by.” 

You blinked in surprise, then laughed lightly. “Balin, he’s a warrior, not a… well, not someone who would pay attention to me like that.” 

Balin grinned mischievously. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. I’ve seen that look before. It’s the look of a dwarf who’s far too stubborn to admit he’s got feelings for someone.” 

You looked over at Dwalin, catching him at the moment he looked up and met your gaze. He immediately looked away, his hand tightening around his mug. 

Your smile softened as you shook your head. “You’re imagining things, Balin. Dwalin’s not the type to show interest.” 

Balin leaned closer, lowering his voice further. “That’s because he’s hiding it, my friend. But you know what? I think it’s time someone gave him a little nudge.” 

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What exactly are you suggesting?” 

Balin’s grin grew wider. “A little blind date. Nothing too serious, just a chance for him to see what he’s missing.” 

“A blind date?” you echoed, amusement dancing in your eyes. “With Dwalin?” 

Balin nodded, his eyes glinting with amusement. “You’d be surprised. He’s just afraid to take the first step. All it will take is a little encouragement.” 

You let out a small laugh, realizing where this was going. “And you want me to encourage him, do you?” 

Balin gave you a wink. “Exactly. All you need to do is invite him for a drink, maybe a walk through the mountain halls. Let him see that there’s nothing to be afraid of. I’m certain he’ll be grateful for the chance to spend some time with you.” 

You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. “I’m not sure this is the best idea, Balin. He’s a bit... well, intense.” 

“Aye, he is,” Balin agreed, chuckling. “But he’ll come around. You’ll see. Just take it easy on him, and don’t push too hard. Let him come to his own conclusions.” 

You thought about it for a moment. Balin was a good judge of character, and though Dwalin seemed like the last dwarf to want to be set up, something told you that this little nudge might be exactly what he needed. 

“Well… maybe one drink wouldn’t hurt,” you said with a smile, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation. “But you owe me for this, Balin.” 

Balin’s grin widened. “Of course. I’ll make sure to get you an extra helping of your favorite honey cakes for this.” 

With a laugh, you agreed, and Balin stepped back, giving you space to carry out the plan. You took a deep breath, then stood up and made your way toward Dwalin, your heart pounding a little faster than usual. 

As you approached him, he glanced up, his frown turning into a surprised expression as he noticed you walking toward him. 

“Y/N?” he asked, his voice gruff, his usual composure faltering slightly. “Is something wrong?” 

You shook your head, offering him a warm smile. “Not at all. I was wondering if you’d like to join me for a drink?” 

Dwalin blinked, clearly caught off guard. “A drink? With me?” His gruffness faltered for a moment, his blue eyes searching yours, as though trying to gauge your intentions. 

You smiled reassuringly. “Yes. Just the two of us. I’ve been meaning to talk to you… without the others around.” 

For a long moment, Dwalin said nothing, the silence hanging between you. Then, slowly, he set his mug down and stood, his large frame towering over you. 

“Aye, alright then,” he said, his voice still unsure. “One drink. But no funny business, Y/N.” 

You laughed softly, the tension between you both dissolving. “No funny business, I promise.” 

As the two of you walked toward the quieter corner of the hall, Balin watched from his spot across the room, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He knew exactly how this night would unfold. 

Dwalin would never see it coming, but Balin was confident that the gruff warrior would be a lot more open to matters of the heart once he had the chance to see how good he had it. 

And maybe—just maybe—Dwalin would finally realize that he had someone who could be exactly what he needed.