#fotfics

“You were swaying like a sapling in a storm” Thorin remarked suddenly, breaking the easy silence that had settled amongst them as they cooled off.

“I was not”, Bilbo replied, a little indignantly, coming closer to lean against the railing.

“You looked ready to topple over”, he insisted, the corner of his mouth quirking up, his tone teasing and light in a way that made Bilbo’s heart start rabbiting.

“I definitely wasn’t!” Bilbo replied, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to appear indignant and not charmed by what probably wasn’t flirting… or was it?

Thorin glanced at him then, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. “You were”, he repeated simply. Then, after a pause, he added with a chuckle, “And I wasn’t that far behind you. It seems our Laketown hosts are generous with their ale”.

Bilbo couldn’t help but laugh softly at that. Seeing Thorin so... unguarded, so warm, was both startling and endearing.

For a moment, they stood in companionable silence, the night air cooling their overheated skin.

“Or perhaps you were dizzy after so long watching me”.

Bilbo’s mouth fell open, a strangled sound escaping him. He whipped his head around to look at Thorin, whose expression remained unreadable, his gaze lost in the horizon of stars.

“I… I wasn’t!” Bilbo stammered, though his burning cheeks betrayed him.

Then Thorin turned, his gaze landing on Bilbo with an intensity that made the hobbit’s breath hitch.

“You’re a terrible liar, Master Baggins”, he said, the amusement evident in his voice.

“I…” Bilbo started, but the words faltered. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say. Apologize? Deny it further? Throw himself into the lake out of sheer embarrassment?

Thorin chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to vibrate through the cool night air. He stepped closer, his broad frame looming yet somehow not imposing.

You sneezed from the sheer amount of dust in the library. Between the cobwebs, ash and grime that littered the shelves and texts before you, your trusty duster truly had its work cut out for it. Covering your face with your sleeve this time, you continued your job of cleaning the recently excavated room. It would take some time, but you were determined to have this place spotless by the end of the month.

“We found some more books we need organized,” a voice called, and your attention was snapped away from your cleaning.

“Hm?” You asked, seeing it was Balin and Ori, arms full of heavy scripts. “Oh, place them over there and I’ll see to it myself.”

The dwarves did as you instructed and made their way to the nearby table, albeit with a few hefty grunts from Ori. The moment they set the books down, dust scattered everywhere, ensuing a fit of sneezing and coughing from all three of you.

“It’s never ending!” Ori complained.

You covered your mouth as you let out a rather dusty cough. “Trust a dragon to leave such a mess!”

“Aye, and a dead one at that.” Balin sighed. “I’ll get some more help for this room by tomorrow.”

“That would certainly be much appreciated,” you said.

“If it meant there would be this much work, I would have never found this room.” Ori groaned, wiping down a chair before sitting in it.

“There’s always work to be done, Ori,” Balin chided. “And moping about won’t get it done.”

“Still, I’m grateful that you did find it,” you chimed in. “It’s a lot to do, but these are some of the oldest recorded texts of Erebor. We’re standing in a room of nothing but history!”

“Well it’s rather dusty history for now,” Ori frowned.

“Well, laddie, if you won’t help, why don’t you go find someone who will? Hm?” Balin raised a brow as he ushered Ori out, who begrudgingly left.

You watched the younger dwarf leave with a frown on his face, now standing alone with Balin in a certainly awkward silence.

“Is he alright?” You asked with a concerned tone. 

“He’s still just a boy,” Balin sighed, leaning on the table. “But I suppose it doesn’t help that he’s been Thorin’s scribe all week.”

“Is that not your job?”

“It usually is,” he nodded. “But it’s high time he began learning the more difficult parts of the trade. Following the King around is no easy task.”

“But why not you? I have my belief in Ori, sure, but to have him take on this role at such a time as this?” 

“I suggested it.” Balin smiled. “He’ll have to learn hands-on somehow, with the ascension coming up with the next moon. We’ve only thirty days from now.”

“But I worry about him,” you frowned. “It’s a much heavier workload than he’s used to. Surely he could’ve started learning after the Crown Prince takes his title?”

Balin sat down in Ori’s chair, motioning for you to join him. Abandoning your duster with a sigh, you reluctantly took a seat.

“I remember when you first arrived,” Balin said. “You were so young–”

“I recall being entirely grown,” you interrupted.

Balin waved you off. “When you’ve lived a life such as mine, everyone is young.”

You let out a soft chuckle, leaning back in your chair.

“As I was saying,” he began again. “You could barely manage on your own. Being under my wing certainly helped, of course, but you were a fickle thing. You’re no dwarf, either; you couldn’t even speak our language when we first met.”

Unaware of where he was going with this, you tried to defend yourself, feeling belittled. “I was well enough to lend a helping hand. This library wouldn’t even be complete if it hadn’t been for me. And my khuzdul is much better than it used to be!”

“Aye, and if it hadn’t been for those texts you found in the ruins of Dale, I doubt we would’ve ever met.” He drew in a breath. “What I’m trying to say is that we all start somewhere.” 

He put a hand on your shoulder, giving a warm smile. “For you, it was those books. For Ori, it was the journey that got us here. And now that we’re finally picking ourselves back up from the wreckage, it’s time that both of you fill into your roles.”

“And what have we been doing this entire time?” You said.

“Well, just a wee bit of practice, I suppose.” He teased. “Now it’s time for the real work. The royal work.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call dusting ‘royal’, but–”

“That’s not what I mean, dear.” He interrupted.

“I don’t understand–”

“I’m having you help prepare one of the princes for the ascension ceremony.”

You gave a double take, now at a loss for words. This was entirely out of your realm. You were just a scribe, a scholar. You were certainly no royal advisor, let alone for dwarven royalty.

“Balin, I’m not even a dwarf.” You started.

“I’m sure he won’t hold that against you,” Balin chuckled. “And, don’t worry, I’ve already gone through the proper channels to get you this job.”

“With the King? Thorin Oakenshield is aware of this?”

“Aye, even he,” Balin nodded. “It took some convincing, but there’s no other I would ask for such a thing. Other than his mother, but Dís has got her hands full already.”

“No other? Balin, we’ve only known each other for a few years now!”

“And in that time, you’ve proven yourself time and time again that you’re someone I can trust.”

You took a breath, settling yourself with this new information. You had only been working under Balin for a little under three years after helping restore some dwarven texts. Without Ori or Balin, you always felt out of your depth. Sure, you did your best to manage on your own, but growing up in Lake-Town, Erebor and its culture and customs had fallen to story and legend before you had become a scholar in their studies. 

“What exactly will I be doing?”

“Thorin’s nephews are finally ready to take their places in the royal court. But while Fíli is preparing to be announced as Crown Prince, there’s a certain amount of duties that get passed along to Kíli.” Balin explained. “It’ll be your job to assist me in discussing and preparing him for those duties.”

“And what would those duties be?”

“I’m getting there, aren’t I?” Balin frowned.

You bit your tongue, now giving him the floor instead of asking him more questions. 

Balin sighed, seeing the anxiety written all over you. “Are you afraid?”

“It’s just… I don’t know if I… That’s a lot of pressure, don’t you think? I just don’t believe I’m qualified.”

Balin rose from his seat, now standing in front of you with both hands on your shoulders. You looked at your mentor with worried eyes as he did his best to reassure you with his own warm gaze. The candle on the dusty table flickered, the light reflecting in his dark eyes, full of kindness.

“Y/N, you’ve proven yourself to be one of my fastest learners. I see the way you work to restore this library as if it were your own. You know our history, you’ve read it yourself.” 

“Only for the last few years-”

“And nobody will hold it against you. I will be there to help, of course. You won’t be entirely on your own, and I’ll teach you everything.” 

What Balin had chosen to omit was that Thorin Oakenshield wouldn’t have allowed you to be Kíli’s only advisor. You may have been a scholar, but you were no dwarf. But Balin knew better than to mention that.

“I have no doubt that you’re the perfect candidate for the job.”

You still didn’t know if you believed him, but you knew you believed in him. And for now, that would have to be enough. You gave him a small nod and smile as a sign that you were listening.

“Aye, there they are,” he smiled. “Come, I’ll show you everything you’ll need to do before you start tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” You rose out of your seat. “But what about the library?”

“There’s always someone we can put to work. Besides, it doesn’t take much to clean a dusty shelf.”

“Easy for you to say; I’ve been at it all morning!”

Balin began walking away, waving an arm as he expected you to follow him. Reluctantly, you finally gave in. It seemed today was going to be a long one.

Long was an incredible understatement. You hadn’t been a coffee-drinker before this, but suddenly you were three cups deep without any sleep as you stood next to Balin outside of the prince’s door. All you could think about were the copious amounts of notes you had taken overnight.

“It’s all been a bit bureaucratic lately, with the salvaging process,” Balin had said last night while handing you three enormously thick books. “But the old ways are all written down in here. For now, it’s best to study what you can before you meet the prince.”

You had been under the impression he would teach you all of this, but he had insisted you read some of it first. You had taken vigorous notes, doing your best to commit as much of it to memory as you could, but even now your brain felt like a soupy muddled mess as Balin knocked three times on the oaken door in front of you.

It was still early in the morning, a time Balin had insisted on, and the halls of Erebor were only just beginning to sound with their typical business and hustle.

You felt utterly spent and still completely unprepared. It was like cramming for a class you had never taken. You still weren’t even convinced you were the right person for the job. Even though Balin had explained you would be taking more of an assistant’s role to him, you felt wildly out of your league. 

A sigh escaped you as you watched Balin knock on the door again.

He gave you a once-over followed by a frown. “Y/N, I told you that you needed rest.”

“I wanted to be prepared, I’ll be fine.” You shook your head.

“Prepared is one thing, but it’s only your first day. You look miserable.” He knocked on the door again, casting a worried look to you. “Why don’t you go get yourself something to eat? I can take care of this for a little while before you join us.”

“This is important, I don’t want to miss anything,” you frowned.

“You’ll miss more if you don’t take care of yourself.”

“Balin, I promise I’ll be alright.” You insisted on staying, much to Balin’s dismay.

He let out a sigh, knowing you were just as stubborn as his brother. 

“Alright, I trust you. But I’m a little concerned.” He turned back to the door, now annoyed as he knocked for the third time. “Kíli, wake up before I go in there myself.”

A loud groan sounded through the wooden door followed by silence before it eventually opened, revealing a very tired dark-haired prince. His hair was mussed and tangled and some of it was stuck to his mouth. His eyes could barely stay open as he was still coming to life. And to top it all of, he was still in his sleepwear, which was oversized and hanging off of his shoulder as he leaned against the door.

“Balin, I thought we said we’d do this in the afternoon,” he groaned, still groggy with sleep.

Balin frowned, unamused. “I told you we would be here at sunrise. You said you’d be awake.”

“I lied,” he shot a lazy grin before looking over at you. “And who’s this?”

“This is Y/N, they’re helping me with preparing-”

“Oh, so you’re the librarian!” Kíli smiled, seemingly remembering who you were. Which was strange, because you two had never met. And you certainly wouldn’t call yourself a librarian.

“I’m sorry?” You raised a brow.

“Ori told me about you, he said you tend to that room he found?”

“Oh, right. Yes, I have been in charge of that…” You nodded. He wasn’t technically wrong, but you tended to align yourself more with the term of scholar rather than librarian. 

“Listen, Kíli,” Balin interjected. “Get yourself settled, we’re on a busy schedule for today.”

Kíli groaned again and you came to realize that he was not matching the image of him you had conjured up in your head. It was hard to believe that this lazy dwarf was the same Prince who had joined Balin on his journey to Erebor.

“Alright, alright. Give me a few minutes, I’ll get dressed.” He shut the door on both of you and you couldn’t hide the frown on your face.

“Is he usually like this?” You asked Balin, keeping as delicate a tone as possible.

“He sleeps like a mountain now that he has a soft bed every night,” Balin sighed. “But he’s never been a morning person. In any case, now we can get started.”

You nodded in response, choosing to withhold any opinions you currently had about the younger Prince of Erebor. First impressions could always change, after all. Surely it would serve you better to erase the idea of his lazy behavior from your mind. You didn’t know him personally; perhaps he simply just wasn’t a morning person.

Suddenly the door was open again, this time with a much more well-kept Prince behind it. You had to stop yourself from doing a double take; he looked like an entirely different person to you now.

His brown hair was now smoother and brushed and slightly swept out of his face, save for his bangs. Fine dwarven fabric hung from his shoulders as he stepped outside of his room and you had to stop yourself from staring. His brown eyes seemed much more full of life now that he was finally dressed and his face was clean. Altogether, he suddenly looked a lot more royal than before.

“Well, that took you long enough,” Balin commented.

“Beauty can do that, yes,” Kíli retorted with a rather cheeky smirk. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Well, time waits on no one, much less beauty,” Balin sighed, adjusting his belt as he began trailing away. “Come along now, there’s much to do.”

A few hours passed by and the day quickly became more and more draining, each minute feeling longer than the last. You felt like you were melting into a puddle of exhausted slop with each step you took, your feet sore after how much walking you three had done. Honestly, you were sure you had walked at least seven or eight miles by now. And while it may have been nothing to the likes of Balin or even Kíli, it was truly starting to wear you down. 

It was your own fault, really. You should have taken Balin’s earlier offer to run off and get yourself some food. Or perhaps have gotten a good night’s rest the previous night. You were all out of sorts and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed in yourself. You had been so focused on studying that you had forgotten to take care of yourself, and look where it had gotten you. Balin was right.

By now, Balin had taken the two of you on a tour of sorts, bringing Kíli to important halls and rooms of Erebor while explaining and delegating what new tasks would fall to him once his brother took his role as the Crown Prince. From the throne room to the forges, there was always something new for Kíli to learn or expound upon. Many of his new tasks weren’t all that unfamiliar to him, as his mother had been helping prepare him for this. But as much as you wanted to be present and fully soak up all of this knowledge as Balin’s assistant, you were utterly spent. Your feet felt stiff like bricks as you trudged along behind Kíli and Balin and the dark circles under your eyes were becoming more apparent with each passing hour. Neither of them had noticed your condition until you three were finally alone. 

There you were, in an empty hall of the library while Balin was explaining to Kíli what would be expected of him at the ascension ceremony itself, arms full of a script with pictures depicting a ceremony long past, when your stomach suddenly let out an embarrassingly loud grumble. Your eyes widened and you clutched your stomach in a panic, as if it would somehow muffle the noise. But itt didn’t. 

You were horrified. Speechless, even. Balin sighed, leaving Kíli confused as to why something as trivial as this would even warrant a reaction.

“Y/N…” Balin said. “If you need to eat, I’m sure I can handle him myself.”

Kíli scoffed, slightly offended at his words. “Well, you’re the one who’s been going nonstop without any break. I would be hungry too!”

“And are you?” Balin raised an unamused brow.

All eyes were on Kíli as he looked down, almost embarrassed to admit defeat.

“...Yes.”

Balin set the book down on the table beside him, running a hand to his temple. You frowned, not liking his annoyed demeanor, but in truth it was all directed at Kíli.

“Well then, I suppose we can take a short break. I’ll be up in the Archives for now. Return in an hour after you properly feed yourselves.”

“An hour? What’s the rush?” Kíli’s jaw dropped, appalled at the idea of a quick meal.

“I won’t give you any royal treatment, Kíli,” Balin countered. “We’re far past formalities.”

“Aw, come on, even a normal person would want more time. I might be technically royal but–”

“Aye, and a royal pain at that,” Balin sighed. “Two hours. And then I want you both back and ready to get to work.”

You nodded eagerly, grateful even for the first hour. “And we will, of course. Thank you.”

“We’ll be back before you know it!” Kíli chimed in.

Balin rolled his eyes, waving you two off as he began his own journey up to the Archives of the library. You watched him go before turning to exit, planning on going to your room to cook when suddenly a hand tapped your shoulder; you turned to see Kíli now throwing you a grin.

“Come on, let’s go,” He motioned to the exit with his head.

“I was going–” You tried to explain but were quickly cut off.

“To eat by yourself?”

“Well I have–”

“Come on; we’ve only got so much time and we haven’t had any to get to know each other.”

You pursed your lip, not feeling too keen to have your plans derailed. But it didn’t feel right to decline a royal, even one as childish as him.

“I wanted to cook at home.”

“Even better! Home-cooked meals are the best!”

You sighed. He would not give in.

“I don’t know if I have enough in my pantry to share…” You tried your best to give one last excuse, but he was quicker.

“How about I grab some of my own food and meet you at your house? We can combine the ingredients and make something delicious.”

For a silent moment, you could only look at his stupid grin while you weighed your options. But you weren’t averse to more food being offered and he clearly didn’t seem to take any negative answer.

“Fine.” You caved. “But please be quick about it. I don’t want to waste this time waiting on you and I mean that as politely as possible.”

He chuckled at your politely rude comment, leaving the library first to what you assumed was his own home.

One hurried walk later, you had finally gotten home and begun preparing your meal. All you had left were some vegetables from your weekly visit to the market and some rice. Rather good options to be stuck with, if you thought about it. It seemed a delicious stir fry would be your meal today.

Quickly, you got to work on cleaning your vegetables, a mixture of squash and greens, before chopping them up in your kitchen. A heavy knock sounded at your door and you set your cutting knife down to go answer it. 

You swung the door open and soon reality hit you. Kíli, one of Erebor’s Princes, was standing outside your front door holding a clothed bundle of something and you had no idea how he had gotten here. 

“I don’t recall telling you where I live,” you said aloud, but softly as though it was supposed to only be heard by your ears. 

“Ori told me,” Kíli explained. “And that’s not usually how you answer the door, if I remember.”

His wit snapped you out of your reverie and you quickly allowed him inside. But you weren’t exactly thrilled at his news. 

“And why did Ori tell you where I live, if I may ask?”

“You may.” He chuckled at that comment. You didn’t find it funny. He quickly realized that. 

“It came up when we were discussing Balin’s newest pupil. Ori mentioned how you had been living here for quite some time when I said how far the traveling was from here to Dale.” 

You sighed, nodding. “You thought I was from Dale.”

It made sense, after all. You weren’t a dwarf. 

“A stupid comment on my behalf, truly,” he tried to save the conversation, finally revealing what he had in his hands. “I hope these will add to whatever you’re already preparing.”

You looked down to see thick cut bacon and a sealed bottle of ale. The good stuff too, this was definitely higher quality than you were used to. You could already feel your mouth salivating at the idea of such a tasty meat in your stir fry. A small bit of ale would also enhance the flavor and even add some new ones. 

“These are actually very promising,” you said, once again aloud but more so to yourself. Still, he heard you. 

“That’s what I was hoping for.” He smiled up at you. “So what are we making?”

You walked past him, now making your way back to your kitchen. He followed suit, albeit after removing his shoes. That seemed to be one of his few redeeming qualities. 

“I have the rice cooking now, but I need to finish cutting the vegetables and get the bacon cooking so it’s ready to be added by the time the rice is done.”

“Sounds great! How can I help?”

You froze for a moment, now realizing there was another living being in your kitchen. This wasn’t exactly a common situation for you. In fact, you liked your cooking how you liked your work in the library: alone. 

But who would you be to tell a Prince that? And especially a Prince who had brought over such fine ingredients… You were caught between a rock and a hard place, and it was time to make a choice. 

Gingerly, you stepped farther from the chopping block and closer to your hearth. You only had two hours to eat; it only made sense to let him help. 

“You can cut everything and I will cook it.” You nodded as you spoke, as if you were still trying to get yourself on board with the idea. You honestly couldn’t recognize if it was working or not, but Kíli was happy to lend a helping hand. And quite ready to get started too, as his hunger was starting to get to him. 

“Great, then let’s get started.” He eagerly grabbed the knife, chopping your squash in such an indelicate way that you could do nothing other than watch with eyes wide open, mouth ajar. None of these pieces of squash were the same size. Or even the same shape, for that matter! It was like he was chopping them all willy-nilly without any air of culinary prowess. 

Something inside of you snapped and you knew you had to say something. You couldn’t help it! 

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” You spoke slowly, still processing the horror in front of you. 

Kíli wasn’t exactly thrilled about your attitude, either, but he did his best to dismiss it. “I’m helping… I’m cutting this squash.”

“But you’re not even dicing it—“

“I didn’t know that’s what you wanted.”

“It’s going with rice, I feel as though you should want to cut it smaller.”

“Does it matter? It’s all going to end up being eaten, isn’t it?” His tone was sterner, now getting more upset.

“But it needs to be small enough to blend with the rice,” you countered. “Otherwise it’s rice with squash on the side.”

“These pieces aren’t that big—“

“They’re chunks! They’re chunky, look at them!”

“I’m the one cutting, I’m sure I can clearly see that’s they’re perfectly fine pieces—“

“Have you ever even used a kitchen knife?”

“Have you ever tried letting someone do so before you critique their cutting abilities?!”

And suddenly, a loud grumble rang out from your stomach, effectively shutting the both of you up. You let out a breath, rationalizing with yourself as you realized there was no reason to be this upset at such a tiny thing. You weren’t someone who typically enjoyed sharing your space with a stranger all that much. Being practically starving wasn’t doing you any favors, either. But it was certainly embarrassing. Demeaning, even. Truly, you were hangry. 

You looked away from the Prince in your kitchen, staring blankly at the boiling rice in front of you. A sigh left your lips before you turned back to face him. 

“I’m sorry,” you nodded. “Let’s just work on getting this cooked.”

Kíli nodded, having realized the same thing as you; both of you were hangry and yelling at each other for no reason. 

“I’ll cut them smaller,” he said quietly, referencing the squash. 

You let out a small nod, returning to your pot of boiling rice that you stirred. “Thank you.”

For a while, you two coexisted in the kitchen in silence; Kíli cut the vegetables and the bacon while you added it to a wok for cooking, the sizzle of the ingredients hitting the pan filling the quiet of the room. Without needing to be told, Kíli uncorked the ale, handing it over to you as you tossed a splash into the pan. Steam rose and the smell hit your nostrils with a cozy aroma as the meat and veggies cooked in the pan.

Finally, after adding in the rice and seasoning it to your liking, the dish was done. With a soft smile, you plated the food into two wooden bowls, offering one to Kíli.

“It looks amazing,” he commented. It seemed you had both calmed down some since your argument. “Do you have anything to drink?”

“I just fetched some water yesterday,” you answered. “The cups are in the cupboard.”

He picked up the bottle of ale, still quite full. “There’s also this, if we wanted. What do you say?”

You frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We have to be back in a little more than an hour.”

“Suit yourself,” he said. “But I doubt one glass will hurt anyone.”

You watched as he poured himself a cup before leaving to go sit at your dining table. A part of you would’ve been tempted to have some yourself, but Balin and your empty stomach would disapprove. You would be satisfied with just this; your body needed it.

Kíli joined you at the table with a smile, quite excited to eat. You watched him as he sat down, taking notice of his beauty as he tucked his hair behind his ears. He was very pretty, even by your standards. You wondered how you hadn’t seen it before. But then again, you had been distracted by his laziness and childish mannerisms, not to mention the previous argument.

You two began to eat in silence, sharing a meal in a comfortable quiet that was occasionally broken whenever Kíli would gulp down his ale. For his sake, you hoped he wasn’t a lightweight.

“How much longer do we have?” He asked in between bites.

“An hour, I think?” You shrugged. “It’s probably smart to leave once we’re done.”

“In a rush?”

“I don’t like to keep Balin waiting. I respect him too much for that.”

“I see. You’ve been working with him for a while now, haven’t you?”

You looked up at him, realizing he was actually making conversation. A part of you was surprised, but you didn’t know why.

“It’s been a few years now,” you answered. 

“Do you like it? Working with him, I mean.” Kíli smiled at you, his warm eyes catching the light of the candles on your table. 

It was alluring.

“I do,” you admitted, smiling at the thought. “He’s very kind. And funny, in his old way. He’s taken care of me for a while.”

“Has he?”

“He’s always looking out for me, but he also doesn’t let me shy away from chances where I could grow.” You sighed, looking at your food. “I look up to him a lot.”

“Well,” Kíli took another swig of his drink. “You certainly sound a lot more grateful than Ori does.”

“That can’t be true,” you chuckled. “What does Ori say?”

“It would be easier to list what he doesn’t say,” he joked. “He’s always going on about his workload being too much. He’s either cleaning the library or running around on Balin’s orders.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “He’s just ranting, I’m sure. He can get frustrated rather quickly but we all know he loves his work.”

“He does, it’s true.” Kíli laughed to himself. “He loves working with you, from what I hear.”

“Does he?” You raised a brow, your interest now piqued as you took another bite of food. 

He nodded, chewing his own mouthful before continuing. “Nowadays he’s always talking about how helpful you are to him; he thinks you know the library better than him now. I remember him mentioning you when you two first met, my brother and I could’ve swore he had a crush on you.”

“A crush?” You choked on your food, hitting your chest to clear up before trying to eat again. 

Kíli held back his laughter, bearing a smile so wide it captured the light around you. “Yes, he must have!”

“I highly doubt–”

“He would go on and on about how pretty you were, how you dressed, or you smelled. One time we couldn’t get him to stop talking about ‘the librarian’s hair’ as if he were some star-struck child!”

Your cheeks were feeling warm by now and you were sure it wasn’t due to the hot food in front of you. 

“I don’t know how to feel about that,” you admitted. “He’s sweet, but I’ve never realized–”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s passed by now,” he said quickly in an attempt to reassure you. “He really just doesn’t get out much. None of us do, really. We’re all so busy trying to keep this place running and back to its former glory.”

“I see,” you nodded, now feeling a little relieved. Things would feel so awkward if Ori actually did have a crush on you. You certainly were fond of him, but not in that way.

“He wasn’t wrong, though,” Kíli said softly, snapping you out of your thoughts as you met his gaze.

“I’m sorry?”

“I just…” He trailed off, looking back down at his food. It seemed like he wasn’t expecting you to hear him as his face started turning red.

You in turn looked down at your own food, confused by his behavior. You gave him one last look, seeing his eyes meet your own.

“He wasn’t wrong. You’re beautiful.”

You froze, the room completely silent save for the crackling of the candles. Here you were sharing a meal with a Prince who had just told you he found you beautiful. Admittedly, it was all a bit much.

You gave a nervous laugh, fixing your posture in your seat as you shoved another forkful of food into your mouth. You chewed and swallowed, nodding as you tried to horse down the rest of your meal.

“Balin should be expecting us soon. We should hurry up,” you said, refusing to make eye contact as you ate.

Kíli smiled, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before returning to his own food.

“Right, we wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.” 

You two managed to make it back in time, arriving to see Balin’s nose stuffed in one of the thickest books you had ever had the fortune of seeing. The rest of the day was long as the tour continued, but you had caught Kíli stealing a few choice glances your way whenever Balin wasn’t looking. You were caught off guard, sure, but you weren’t entirely averse to the attention. It was something new. Nice, even, and it made you think that perhaps this dwarf wasn’t entirely as ridiculous as you thought.

Of course, what you didn’t know was that he was almost certainly even more ridiculous than you took him for. But that certainly wouldn’t dissuade him from trying his best to capture your attention.

Mismatched Pairings

“Indeed I am! And I’m also the Guildmaster of the Cooks’ Guild! And the dining hall is our Guild’s Main Hall! I gotta be here from time to time to run the place after all!” Bombur replied enthusiastically, looking proud. ”Oh, by the way! Bilbo, your pebble Frodo is here! Gloin’s wee Gimli is guarding him as usual.”

“Oh dear, did Frodo sneak out of the castle again?” Bilbo sighs before chuckling, “Gimli should know to say no by now.”

“Ah well, you know us dwarrows are weak to those large wet eyes, you hobbits possess. His dwarvish features make it more prominent for us,” laughs Bombur as he shows them the way towards the young prince.

There is the small dwobbit sitting on the lap of an auburn-haired dwarf, taking large bites out of a baked potato. The dwarf makes a disgusted expression but doesn’t complain when the dwobbit offers him a bite. When the dwarf notices them headed towards their direction, he straightens up, looking a bit red. “King Bilbo! Your Majesty, I-”

“Now Gimli, I told you this before. Uncle Bilbo is the only title I’ll accept from you.” chides Bilbo fondly.

“I wouldn’t dare, your Majesty! I am-” Gimli is interrupted when Bilbo makes a dramatic sigh.

“I suppose you can address me in more formal titles, since you obviously don’t believe we’re close enough to be family.” the hobbit replied dramatically, making his son giggle while the dwarf looks shocked.

The summer had barely begun, when you met him. At first, you thought he was an illusion. A trick of your mind. Clear eyes, blonde hair, he’d carried himself just like you thought he would. The Crowned Prince, they called him. He had introduced himself as Fili. Nothing more. He came and went to your stand on the market place. Over the course of a few months, he had become a vital presence in your life. Just as you did in his.

To your agony, none of you would speak of it aloud. In your mind only, could he hold you, could he be with you. The status was one thing. The other was how people called you: the witch. Fili would never refer to you in such a way. He once called you a “soft-spirited soul who could cure any wound”. It had made your heart beat so fast you thought he would surely see the beats on your skin. But, the herbs you used and the unguents? It was common knowledge, yet it was not as widely used as it should have been. It was considered a women’s trade first and then was replaced completely by modern medicine. They did not keep your stall empty though. Even, on occasions, some people would come to you for more than just healing. For a kind ear and a cup of ale. That was why it did not surprise you when the tall and grand man came, in his white robes and equally beautiful staff. He did not say his name but you would remember his face forever. An intricate affair of wrinkles and bones showing under his skin. It was as if he’d been taunt over an overused canvas. You had seen worse ugliness, worse gnarly members, deformed by arthritis or unfair accidents. It was nothing new and you thought nothing of it.

“What may I help you with tonight, traveller?”

His robe was stained on the hems, earth and what you assumed was crusted mud over it. He did not move, only following your movements across the room with intent. His lips seemed to be moving, but no sound came out of them. Uneasy, you sat down and offered a cup of warm tea, just brewed. He stayed motionless.

“You look just like her, you know? — What?”

The jolt almost made you knock over your tea. The last time someone compared you to anyone else was when your grandmother was alive. Could he have known her? Or was he toying with you?

“You like just like your grandmother…” He stepped into your space, closing in on you. A chill ran down your spine. He had known her then. “The same eyes, the same face, those same treacherous lips…” He grabbed onto your chin, a harsh grip forcing you into meeting his eyes. You were so scared you did not dare move a muscle. “And you will pay for her lies and her filthy words.”

He released you, your body meeting with the floor in a violent attempt at getting away from him. His staff pointed at you, he mumbled incoherent words. Then, some all too coherent ones.

“Blood of the blood of my enemy, I hereby punish you. For your grandmother broke my heart with her words and it will break yours too! You will remain speechless, until someone confesses their love for you. Only if they do and you love them in return, the curse shall be lifted. A day and a night you shall have before the words strangle you. Hear my wrath, blood of the blood and know your time to be shortened.”

A maniacal laugh echoed through the room, white and grey fog sneaking through the door. You raised your head and he was gone, heaps of smoke the only sign he was there at all.

The next morning, you were mute.

———— It had taken a heavy toll on you. People could not understand why from one day to the next, your voice had gone out. The weather could not explain it. You couldn’t any more either.

Of course, Fili chose that day to show up. He did not exactly chose, for it was the first time in weeks he had managed to have some free time. Naturally, he arranged to come and see you.

“Hello.”

The smile you offered was…odd. Uneasy. He wondered what he could have done to deserve this thin lipped, excuse of a smile. You were always so quick to smile brightly, even in the early hours of the morning, eyes stinging with the last remnants of sleep.

“Are you not going to say it back?”

He rose an eyebrow, more out of curiosity than animosity. You tried. You really, really tried to tell him. But the clients were growing impatient and the line was growing thick behind him. Upon seeing you interact with them, gestures and half guessed prices, Fili realised you were not choosing not to answer. You could not. In an impulse, he jumped over the stand and joined you behind.

“Hello, good sir, what might we do for you today?”

The dandy man blinked once. Twice. His eyes kept going from you to Fili before choosing to ignore the fact that the future heir to the kingdom was now selling herbs and creams on the market. You could not stop him even if you had wanted to. Before you could try to intervene, he had already taken it upon himself to help you. He pushed you back and sat you down on your chariot. He did not stop, not for one minute. The whole morning he served and listened sometimes turning to you for confirmation. You intervened once or twice, and that was that. How long did he observe you to know almost as much as you did? From where you were you saw him leave his heavy pelted coat, warmed up by the activity. His shoulder blades barely hidden behind a linen shirt, became a good distraction to the feeling of helplessness within. Your fingers twitched once or twice, wanting nothing more than to reach out for him. You knew you couldn’t. But one can always dream. Right? Suddenly in lack of clients, he turned to you, chest rising rapidly. A hint of hair peeked from under his collarbones and you had a hard time focusing on his words.

“Now. How did you lose your voice?”

A real worry started to gain his face even as he smirked. He could not fool you anymore. His eyes started studying you, as if your face could tell him what had happened.

“Did you catch a cold?”

You shook your head and sighed. This was going to be impossible to explain. Suddenly, you sprung to your feet grabbing his hand. If he had been in his right mind, he would have stuttered and crumbled internally at that. Luckily he wasn’t and merely blushed when you did. Your hands were showing him something.

“Something to write?”

Excitedly, you nodded. He pulled a piece of paper and a charcoal out of his pocket and handed them to you. In quick words, you explained the situation to him. As he read on, his heart kept sinking. He knew his attachment to be love. Fili had known for quite some time. Regardless, if you did not feel the same then it was a doomed story. The deadline was growing closer as each moment passed and he was losing his mind. He kept pacing trying to find another way out of it. There was none. Even if he had gone to Gandalf - the sorcerer of the Kingdom - it would be too late before he’d come up with a solution. His only hope was to tell you how he felt. In the unlikely odds, that maybe, you would not reject him. If not, he’d make your last day a feast and a paradise. The taste of grief melted in his mouth. He swallowed it soon. In a whisper and an extended hand, he called you to him. When you took his hand, shaking and hesitant, his heartbeat accelerated.

If only he knew. His face told you everything. You could see his resolution disappear with every passing moment. He had no solution. So, he did not love you in the end and the dreams you had about living together were just dreams. You almost cried when he pulled you in, embracing you in his arms, his warmth. He could not look at you and you could not blame him for it.

“It’s time I told you…”

You held your breath, a deep sigh shaking him. He took your face in his hands, gentle and tender.

“I am afraid that all those months I have deceived you.”

Your heart sank again and as you struggled in his hold, he stopped you.

“Let me finish, please.”

You nodded, tearful sobs already on the edge of your lips.

“I have not been honest. From the very first time we met, I knew. I knew I would come to love you. I did not stop it. I knew our stations would not match. It didn’t bother me. It still doesn’t. I don’t care if you don’t love me back. I need you to hear this…”

Tears ran down your cheeks. He had to be lying. He had to be. How could he say such lies when you were in this deadly situation? How could he toy with you like this. Again, you struggled against his hold and he gripped your shoulders. Through the cloths his heat was both a fast poison and a powerful balm.

“Just look at me. Forget everything else. Forget where we are. Just listen to me.”

You did. You looked at him and his sea-coloured eyes. A deep feeling of content took root inside of you. Maybe if you were to die by tomorrow, enjoying him was not the worst thing you could be doing right now. So you did as he said and focused on his voice, his eyes, his neatly braided beard. Your fingertips combed gently through it and it made him stutter for a moment.

“I love… No. I adore you. You will not die today, I will not allow it. Never will I allow it. You cannot leave me like this. There were shadows in me before, now there’s only your light. Yours and no one else. How you did it, I will never know but I love you. I love you, and I will always love you until the end of time… —I love you too.”

Your voice croaked as if it had been unused for years. It startled both of you. An immense joy washed over you and you jumped into his arms, breathing him in, basking in his warmth. He held on to you so tight, it was sure to leave marks. The market around you was unchanged but you were. He looked at you dead in the eye, a mere centimetres from your face.

“Never, ever, do that again. —No promises.”

You laughed and squealed when he mumbled about “promises” and “worried sick” and you being the death of him one day. Quickly, in between two rants you pulled him to you and kissed him. He continued on for a good moment before he realised what had happened. He blushed furiously, the corner of his lips lifting. Soon, your lips found his, gently. He wanted to enjoy that kiss and all the others coming afterwards.

People around you, were sure to have something to talk about the next day.

On the other hand, you would choose to be nowhere else but right there in his arms.