king without his crown

Jon and Sansa discover childhood and acceptance

He doesn’t know what he expects to see when he finds Sansa alone and curled under the weirwood tree but it is not this. Sansa’s head is bowed down low, surrounded by blue winter roses. He steps closer, the crunch of snow between his boots echoing loudly in the Godswood. Her head whips up, blue, large eyes now focused on him. He flinches at the intensity of her stare, feeling like a boy under her gaze.

“Jon, what are you doing skulking around?” She asks, pushing the roses out of her way. He scowls and walks closer to her. His hiding spot now outed.

“I wasn’t skulking,” he grumbles but he sits beside her. Sansa doesn’t pay him much attention, her attention now back to her flowers. He watches her curiously as she twists the thick stems around the other, breaking off the thorns. Her cheeks are flushed and rosy from the cold and her hands are red and scratched up but Sansa doesn’t seem to care. He is suddenly reminded of the little girl that she used to be, making a crown and then forcing Robb to crown her and proclaim her the Queen of Love and Beauty. There is no Robb to crown her, only him and he is a poor substitute.

He watches her, curiously but she still pays him no mind, her fingers working furiously over her work. He smiles at the sight of her stooped over like this and working at making a crown of flowers. Despite what Sansa may say, there is still something of that girl inside her. She is not a ghost or a phantom, she sits right before him, making a crown of flowers just as she once had.

She lets out a delighted gasp and lifts it up proudly. He smiles at her joy and happiness. If there is still some of the girl in Sansa after all that she has faced, perhaps, there is some of the boy still in me, he thinks to himself, feeling the warm bubble of hope, fragile and easily squashed but in existence, all because of her.

He waits for her to place the crown upon her own head or to ask him to do it, naming herself queen in the only way she can now. She does neither.

“Lower your head.” He stares at her wide-eyed and Sansa flushes at his gaze. “You’re a king without a crown. I made you one.”  He obeys her, his mouth thick and heavy with words he cannot say, words that he doesn’t know how to form. She places the crown of flowers gently upon his head. He can feel the heat of tears behind his eyes but he raises his head once she places it on his head.

“Long may your reign be my King.” He wants to open his mouth and rebuke her. His name is Jon. He’s no king but her bright and hopeful gaze stops him. He thinks that this is a game as much as it is acceptance of him. He keeps silent, accepting the crown of winter roses and accepting his new title.

Sansa’s face is bright and flushed and shining. It is part girl and part woman and part advisor but it is Sansa, all of it is the woman, girl that stands before him. That thing that has slowly been inching its way into his chest, finally, finally settles into space.

Fallen Stars (Thorin x OC)

A/N: Here is the second chapter!! I hope that you will like it!! 

Fandom: The Hobbit

Ship: Thorin x OC 

@sdavid09 @fizzy-custard @fictionalquintessence @villainlove @xalexandriaxk


Chapter 1 

Chapter 2 –> current chapter 

Chapter 3 

Chapter 2: A king without a crown

Gandalf got up from his chair in the kitchen and walked down the hall to open the door, Bilbo and the other dwarves following after him. Elen followed as well but she decided to stay behind Fili and Kili in the hallway. The half-elf couldn’t lie, she was nervous. She had heard stories about Thorin Oakenshield and she even had the chance to see him from up close once. However, the dwarf prince would never remember her. She was part of the past, of an old alliance the elves of the Lothlórien had with Erebor. Elen watched as Gandalf opened the round door of the hobbit hole, the two brothers before the woman smiling even wider than during the meal. Gandalf smiled and Elen’s gaze fell on him.

Elen’s eyes widen as she studied the dwarf. He was handsome with his long black wavy hair, his short and well-trimmed beard. His posture was strong and confidence radiated around the dwarf but what almost made Elen gasp was his eyes. They were of a kind of deep blue that could pierce through your soul and hold your heart in a glance. His eyes were cold but deep down she could see the immense pain and sorrow that ate him alive. Elen watched in awe as the dwarf king looked at Gandalf with a small smirk on the corner of his lips.  

“Gandalf. I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice. Wouldn’t have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door.” Thorin said as he stepped into Bag End. Elen could listen to his deep baritone voice for hours, she could already imagine how good his voice must sound as he sang.

“Mark? There’s no mark on that door. It was painted a week ago!” Bilbo suddenly said as he stepped in front of Thorin as if he wanted to check on his door. Elen smiled softly at the hobbit. He was completely obvious to who was standing before him. Gandalf looked rather uncomfortable at Bilbo’s statement and grumbled under his beard.

“There is a mark; I put it there myself.” Gandalf started with a gentle smile while Thorin removed his cloak and handed it to his youngest nephew with a smile. However, his eyes landed on Elen and the dwarf king frowned while the woman froze. Elen was suddenly feeling embarrassed, she had to admit that Thorin could be intimidating. The dwarf was about to say something when Gandalf spoke up, catching his attention. “Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield.”

Bilbo looked slightly confused as he turned around to observe Thorin who began to circle the hobbit, judging him as his eyes trailed over the gentle creature.

“So, this is the Hobbit. Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?” Thorin asked, his voice laced with sarcasm.

“Pardon me?” Bilbo asked in return, confused.

“Axe or sword? What’s your weapon of choice?” The dwarf king stopped in front of the hobbit once again and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

“Well, I have some skills at Conkers, if you must know, but I fail to see why that’s relevant.” Bilbo looked rather proud of his skills but Thorin smirked and the poor hobbit looked baffled.

“Thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar.” Thorin spoke, earning a loud laugh from the other dwarves. Elen was silent, not finding his comment that funny. Suddenly, the dwarves stopped laughing as Thorin turned around and glared directly at the half-elf. Elen gulped and waited for the storm. If she could hide behind Fili she would.

“And you?” Thorin hissed. “Who are you?” All the dwarves were now looking at her, even Fili and Kili watched the woman with slight fear as they knew how much their uncle hated her kind. Elen suddenly felt silly, she wasn’t going to back down to this dwarf. She stepped forward and held her chin high.

“I’m Elentári of the Lothlórien, at your service.” She said and bowed before the dwarf. Thorin’s eyes widen, his suspicions were true. An elf maiden was standing before him! His eyes lit up in hate for her kind, the wound of the broken alliance and Thranduil’s treason too fresh in his mind.

“An elf?!” He shouted as he turned to glare at the wizard who looked rather uncomfortable. “You let an elf come to our meeting?! How could you?” Gandalf shook his head as he spoke up in defense of his friend.

“Elen is not your enemy, Thorin. She is truly skilled and she will be a great asset to this quest and to the company.” Gandalf said soothingly but Thorin wasn’t buying it.

“She will not come with us! No one can trust an elf and being a woman she will only be a burden! We don’t have the time to look after her and deal with her childishness!” Thorin hissed again, making Elen’s mouth fall open at the rude dwarf. She was burning with anger; this dwarf was a king but it did not give him the right to disrespect her.  

“With all due respect, master dwarf, I am standing right behind you and you have no right to speak of me without respect.” Elen started, her face red with anger. Thorin turned around and glared at woman. “I have seen more battles than you will ever see, I have fought more enemies that you will ever face! I went to war more times that you could during your entire life time. Do not think that you are talking to a gentle fair lady who does not know what it means to fight or to survive. Like it or not but you need my help Oakenshield.” Elen hissed back at the dwarf, her eyes glowing with anger. Gandalf watched as she clenched her fists at her sides and a sudden fear of seeing her lashing out like her mother would on Thorin made him step between them.

“She is right, Thorin. You need her experience. She killed more orcs than any of you, she knows how to fight.” Gandalf tried to convince the king. Thorin’s eyes landed on Elen once again. The woman was beautiful in his eyes and her courage impressed him but she was an elf. It was impossible to trust her even if he could see that she was a gentle soul.

“What is your weapon of choice?” Thorin asked, trying to cool himself down.

“Swords and daggers.” Elen quickly answered, her voice still laced with annoyance. Thorin raised an eyebrow at this and smirked in a teasing way.

“No bow? Weird for one of your kind…” He said, making the others laugh. Elen looked around her, feeling slightly ashamed. Indeed, the fact that she was awful with a bow was one of her greatest shame. Other elves would always make fun of her about it when she was younger.

“I’m only half elf…” She muttered, earning Thorin’s interest as he studied her more precisely.

“A half-breed?” He asked Gandalf who nodded at him reluctantly. Thorin nodded back and glared at Elen once again. “Let me think about it.” He said before turning around and all the dwarves followed him back to the dining table.

As Thorin ate the same soup that Elen was eating a few minutes before, the rest of the dwarves started to talk. Elen and Bilbo followed them but stayed behind, not having a place around the table. Elen glared at Thorin from her spot behind him as she leaned against the doorway of the dining-room. Bilbo watched her and gave her a small understanding smile as he too had been Thorin’s victim just a few seconds before.

“What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?” Balin spoke up suddenly, the company finally silent as their king ate his dinner.

“Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms.” Thorin answered but Elen saw that his eyes weren’t as positive as his statement. She observed the side of his face as all the dwarves murmured their joy.

“What do the dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Is Dain with us?” Dwalin asked hopeful. Thorin looked down at his hands before answering his friend.

“They will not come.” His voice was grave and the dwarves murmured in disappointment. “They say this quest is ours, and ours alone.” Thorin spoke up again, Elen frowned at this and shared a look with Gandalf.

“You’re going on a quest?” Bilbo suddenly asked to no one in particular. Elen was about to answer him but Gandalf cut her once again.

“Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light.” He said, smiling innocently but Elen was not buying it.

Bilbo came back with a candle and settled it on the table where Gandalf has spread out a map which was in his pocket. Thorin looked at it in awe and Elen walked behind him to have a look at the map. Bilbo did the same. A few dwarves, including Thorin, glared at Elen as she was looking at something that was a dwarven secret map but she ignored them. She was used of being rejected.

“Far to the East, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak.” Gandalf said, watching the company.

“The Lonely Mountain.” Bilbo read on the map, looking up at Elen with a questionable look.

“This is where we’re going” Elen answered, her voice just above a whisper but being only a few inches away from Thorin, the dwarf grunted as he heard her comment.

“It is still not certain in your case.” The dwarf king muttered as he glared at the woman who only glared back at him.

“Aye. Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time.” Gloin spoke up as everyone tried to have a look at the map.

“Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold: When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end.” Oin said in response to Gloin’s words.

Bilbo, hearing Oin’s words and “the beast,” looked concerned. Elen gazed at Gandalf then at Bilbo. He didn’t know about Smaug, it was obvious.

“Uh, What beast?” Bilbo asked concerned. Bofur smiled, seeing his chance to have some fun.

“Well that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire­breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals­­”

“Yes, I know what a dragon is.” Bilbo cut Bofur sassily making Elen smirk. Ori suddenly got up from his chair, looking determinate.

“I’m not afraid! I’m up for it. I’ll give him a taste of the Dwarfish iron right up his jacksie.” He shouted and all the dwarves shouted in agreement, except for his brother Dori who grabbed him and pushed him back down on his seat.

“Sit down!” He said at the same time. Elen gently smiled at Ori who looked at her sheepishly.

“The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us. But we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best, nor brightest.” Balin added when everyone calmed down. The half-elf chuckled at the old dwarf’s words, Thorin glaring at her once again.

The dwarves started objecting, saying things like, “Hey, who are you calling dim?” “Watch it!”, and “No!”

“What did he say?” Oin asked the others, looking around seemingly lost as all his friends started arguing.

“We may be few in number, but we’re fighters, all of us, to the last dwarf!” Fili spoke up, everyone calming down as they turned around to look at the two brothers. Elen couldn’t help but notice the proud look on Thorin’s face as he smiled at his nephews.

“And you forget, we have a wizard in our company. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time.” Kili added making Elen grin brightly at his words.

“Oh, well, now, uh, I­I­I wouldn’t say that, I­ ­” Gandalf stuttered, looking suddenly very uncomfortable.

“How many, then?” Dori pressed.

“Uh, what?” Gandalf tried to look innocent as he puffed on his pipe.

“Well, how many dragons have you killed? Go on, give us a number!” Dori said now standing up.

“Oh yes, tell us Gandalf!” Elen teased mischievously, earning Gandalf’s glare and a slight unnoticed smirk from Thorin.

“Hm.” Gandalf embarrassedly started coughing on his pipe smoke and the dwarves jumped to their feet, arguing about the number of dragons Gandalf has killed. Thorin jumped up in anger and bellowed, silencing the company in one shout of Khuzdul.

“Shazara! (Silence!)” All the dwarves sat back down and Elen couldn’t help but take a step back out of reflex while Bilbo looked at Thorin surprised. “If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumours have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for 60 years. Eyes look east to the Mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor? Du Bekâr! Du Bekâr! (To arms! To arms!)” At his words, all the dwarves cheered. Elen smiled as she could know understand why they followed him. Thorin’s eyes were lit up with a new-found determination that gave courage to the entire company, his strength seemed to transfer into the dwarves’ hearts.  

“You forget: the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain.” Balin spoke up over the hubbub. Thorin looked down once again, agreeing with his old friend.

“That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true.” Gandalf said, twiddling his fingers, he produced a dwarvish key, ornately wrought. Thorin looked at it in wonder and awe as Elen’s eyes widen.

“How came you by this?” Thorin asked still in awe at the key.

“How indeed?” Elen whispered, looking at the key then at Gandalf who quickly winked at her then turned his attention back toward Thorin.

“It was given to me by your father, by Thrain, for safekeeping. It is yours now.” Gandalf explained then handed the key to Thorin as everyone looked on in wonder.

“If there is a key, there must be a door.” Fili said, speaking the obvious. Gandalf pointed at some runes on the map with his pipe.

“These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls.” The wizard looked up at Elen as her eyes landed on the runes. The same runes appeared on her skin if the light of the moon touched her skin. Elen frowned at this and understood that her fate was maybe even more linked to the outcome of this quest than what Gandalf thought.

“There’s another way in!” Kili said with a smile and his voice laced with joy and hope.

“Well, if we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map and I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in Middle­earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. But, if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done.” Gandalf added.

“That’s why we need a burglar.” Ori said, looking at Gandalf.

“Hm, A good one, too. An expert, I’d imagine.” Bilbo huffed as he looked up from the map, Elen’s eyes looked up from the map as well to see that Thorin was observing her. His deep blue eyes gazing into her silver ones. She blushed as his eyes did not held any anger this time. Though, she couldn’t tell what emotion he felt so she turned her eyes away feeling slightly shy all of a sudden.

“And are you?” Gloin asked Bilbo.

“Am I what?” Bilbo asked back in confusion. Oin beamed and turned to the others.

“He said he’s an expert! Hey hey!” He said and several dwarves laughed. Elen rolled her eyes, feeling slightly sorry for the poor hobbit.

“M­­Me? No, no, no, no, no. I’m not a burglar; I’ve never stolen a thing in my life.” Bilbo tried to defend himself. Elen’s eyes found Gandalf’s who was looking more and more agitated.

“I’m afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He’s hardly burglar material.” Balin sighed and looked at Thorin as Bilbo nodded in agreement.

“Aye, the wild is no place for gentlefolk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves.” Dwalin added, eyeing Elen as well.

“Excuse me, who are you calling gentlefolk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves?” Elen growled, glaring at Dwalin. Bilbo kept agreeing and the dwarves began arguing. Gandalf, growing angry, rose to his full height and casted darkness over the group as he started speaking in his “powerful” voice. The others stopped in awe and slightly in fear.

“Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is.” Gandalf went back to his normal self as he sat back down.

Elen went back to her spot against the doorway and kept her eyes on Dwalin who was challenging her. Thorin saw it and gestured at his friend to stop him. Elen’s eyes glanced at Thorin but she staid quiet.

“Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage. And concerning Elentári, she is the best warrior of her race and I thought you needed more warriors on your side. You asked me to find the fourteenth and fifteenth members of this company, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins and Miss Elen. There’s a lot more to him than appearances suggest, and he’s got a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including himself. “Gandalf said and looked at Bilbo before he kept talking. “Elen is also my most loyal friend. You must trust me on this.” Gandalf said, trying to convince Thorin. Finally, the dwarf king seemed to give in and nodded at the wizard.

“Very well. We will do it your way.” Thorin sighed, a new hope filling Elen’s heart.

“No, no, no.” Bilbo tried to complain but the dwarves ignored him.

“Give them the contract.” The dwarf king said to Balin. Dwalin and a few other seemed to disagree but they said nothing, not wanting to go against their leader.

“Please.” Bilbo tried to reason them as the company talked among themselves.

“Alright, we’re off!” Bofur cheered enthusiastically, smiling at his friends. Balin handed Elen and Bilbo a long contract.

“It’s just the usual summary of out­of­pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth.” Balin stated professionally.

“Funeral arrangements?” Bilbo asked in astonishment.

Elen took the contract and signed it without even looking at the terms, she gave it back to Balin as Bilbo started to read his contract in details. Balin smiled at the half-elf and verify the contract.

“Well… Miss Elentári, welcome to the company of Thorin Oakenshield.” The kind dwarf said, smiling at her as she nodded and looked at Thorin. He did not even glance at her or a nod in her direction. After all, he did not agree willingly. Gandalf had forced his hand. Elen looked down and went back to lean against the doorway as Bilbo stepped back a few feet to read the contract. Elen didn’t like what she heard as Thorin leaned toward Gandalf and whispered to him.

“I cannot guarantee his safety. If the elf tries to betray us, she’s out.” Thorin whispered to the wizard.

“Understood.” Gandalf nodded.

“Nor will I be responsible for their fate.” Thorin added, making Elen wince.

“Agreed.” Gandalf nodded again. Elen shook her head at the dwarf king before turning her attention to Bilbo who was now reading parts of the contract out loud.

“Terms: Cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one fourteenth of total profit, if any. Seems fair.” Bilbo said, Elen smiling and chuckling to herself. “Eh, Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof including but not limited to lacerations … evisceration … incineration?” Bilbo read out in astonishment and turned to look at the dwarves with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, aye, he’ll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye.” Bofur answered, mischievously. The woman who was now looking carefully at the hobbit turned her gaze to glare at Bofur.

“Huh.” Bilbo looked a little breathless and she knew that the chances were high that he would faint.

“You all right, laddie?” Balin asked and leaned in to look at the poor hobbit who looked rather nauseous and pained as he bended over. Elen’s eyes trailed up to look at Thorin. The dwarf was watching Bilbo closely and with the coldness of his eyes, Elen could say that he was already regretting his choice to let the hobbit come.

“Uh, yeah…Feel a bit faint.” Bilbo answered Balin.

“Think furnace with wings.” Bofur added as he got up from his chair and got a little bit closer. Elen rolled her eyes.

“Bofur…” The half-elf warned, earning a cheeky grin from the dwarf.

“Air, I­­I­­I need air.” Bilbo stuttered, trying to catch his breath.

“Flash of light, searing pain, then Poof! you’re nothing more than a pile of ash.” Bofur said again, making Elen groan in annoyance.

“Bofur!” Elen scowled the dwarf. Thorin looked at her but said nothing.

Bilbo breathed heavily, trying to compose himself as the others stare at him. For a second, the poor hobbit seemed to feel better but suddenly his face fell and Elen’s eyes widen.

“Hmmm. Nope.” The poor hobbit said before falling on the floor in a faint. Elen gasped and rushed at his side. The girl kneeled on the floor before him and gently lifted Bilbo’s head on her lap.

“Ah, very helpful, Bofur.” Elen heard Gandalf say as he got up from his chair to help Elen with Bilbo.

Thorin stared at the woman, he was confused at how the half-elf could already care for the hobbit. She met him a few hours before and she was already caring for his wellbeing. Thorin watched while the wizard and Elen carried Bilbo into his sitting-room and settled him on a cozy armchair next to the fire. A few minutes later, Bilbo woke up and rubbed his temples.

“What happened?” the poor hobbit asked.

“You fainted.” Elen answered gently as she kneeled before the chair. Bilbo sighed and look at her then at Gandalf looking sorry. “Do you want some tea?” Elen asked and Bilbo nodded slowly.

“Thank you.” The hobbit said as Elen walked away toward the kitchen to make some hot tea for the hobbit.

“Don’t worry about it.” She smiled and walked out of the room. Elen entered the kitchen, where some dwarves were talking and started the tea. While she was working Ori and Bofur approached her.

“Miss Elen…” Ori spoke up, looking rather shy. “Is mister Baggins alright? “ The young dwarf asked. Elen turned around with a cup of tea.

“He will be Ori, don’t worry.” She smiled kindly. Bofur glanced down then looked up at the woman.

“I didn’t mean to make him faint, lass.” Bofur looked at Elen with a small smile on his lips and Elen chuckled.

“I know…” Elen simply answered before walking out of the kitchen to give Bilbo his mug og tea.

“Here you go.” She said and asked the hobbit once again he felt all right.

“I’ll be all right, let me just sit quietly for a moment.” The hobbit answered but Gandalf was quick to talk back.

“You’ve been sitting quietly for far too long. Tell me; when did doilies and your mother’s dishes become so important to you? I remember a young Hobbit who always was running off in search of elves and the woods, who’d stay out late, come home after dark, trailing mud and twigs and fireflies. A young Hobbit who would have liked nothing better than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire. The world is not in your books and maps; it’s out there.” The wizard said as he walked closer to Bilbo who was now looking even more confused.

“I can’t just go running off into the blue. I am a Baggins, of Bag End.” Bilbo said, his voice breaking in the middle of his sentence.

“You are also a Took.” Gandalf told him, making Bilbo sighed and almost roll his eyes. “Did you know that your great­great­great­great­uncle, Bullroarer Took, was so large he could ride a real horse?”

“Yes.” Bilbo muttered and Elen sat at the table of the sitting-room, looking at some map that Bilbo had left there.

“Well he could. In the Battle of Green Fields, he charged the goblin ranks. He swung his club so hard it knocked the Goblin King’s head clean off, and it sailed a hundred yards through the air and went down a rabbit hole. And thus, the battle was won, and the game of golf invented at the same time.” Gandalf explained and sat on the chair before the hobbit. Elen smiled at his story and thought that the wizard was really trying his best to convince Bilbo.

“I do believe you made that up.” Bilbo answered, not buying Gandalf’s story.

“Well, all good stories deserve embellishment. You’ll have a tale or two to tell of your own when you come back.” The wizard smiled.

“Can you promise that I will come back?” Bilbo asked.

“No. And if you do, you will not be the same.” Gandalf gravely told the hobbit.

“That’s what I thought. Sorry, Gandalf, I can’t sign this. You’ve got the wrong Hobbit.” Bilbo answered and got up to retreat in his room. Elen got up and tried to follow him but she stopped at the corner of the hallway as she heard Balin and Thorin’s voices.

“It appears we have lost our burglar. Probably for the best. The odds were always against us. After all, what are we? Merchants, miners, tinkers, toy­makers; hardly the stuff of legend.” Balin’s voice said.

“There are a few warriors amongst us.” Thorin said gently. This tone in his voice was odd for Elen as she thought that the dwarf was only able to hiss and shout.

“Old warriors.” Balin sighed.

“I will take each and every one of these dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills. For when I called upon them, they came. Loyalty. Honor. A willing heart. I can ask no more than that.” Thorin answered and Elen’s heart swell at his declaration. He held so much proud and trust in his friends… the feeling was unknown for the half-breed.

“You don’t have to do this. You have a choice. You’ve done honorably by our people. You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains, a life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor.” Elen could tell that Balin was afraid for his friend and leader. He didn’t want to see Thorin fall because of the same reasons of his father and grandfather. Elen listened in silence as Thorin held out the key Gandalf gave him.

“From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me. They dreamt of the day when the dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. There is no choice, Balin. Not for me.” Thorin said, his voice heavy with deep emotions.

“Then we are with you, laddie. We will see it done.” Balin said and Elen’s mind was set. She swore on her life that she would see Thorin on the throne of Erebor, they would have to succeed.

After a few more minutes, Balin and Thorin joined the company in the sitting-room and Thorin lit up his pipe as he stared into the fire. Elen went back into the kitchen and sat before Gandalf at the table. From her spot, she could see the dwarves and Thorin as they started to hum deeply and soon Thorin began to sing. His voice was beautiful and deep. Elen’s heart stopped as she watched and listened to this sorrowful song.

“Far over the misty mountains cold

To dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away ere break of day

To find our long­forgotten gold

The pines were roaring on the height

The winds were moaning in the night

The fire was red, it flaming spread

The trees like torches blazed with light”

When the song stopped Elen caught herself staring at Thorin and Gandalf chuckled at her star struck look.

“You should catch some sleep, Elen. It’s already late and we have a long journey ahead.” The wizard said in hushed tone. Elen looked at him and nodded her head.

“You should too.” The woman answered, earning a smile from the wizard.

“Yes, indeed.”

“However, I doubt that I will be able to sleep.” Elen muttered as she rubbed her cold hands together.

“Maybe you could ask Thorin to sing something again…” Gandalf started in his usual innocent tone but stopped when Elen glared at him and blushed before she got up and started to look for a spot to sleep. Gandalf chuckled to himself as he puffed on his pipe and watched the flames of the kitchen fire. Elen walked into the sitting-room where the dwarves decided to stay for the night and looked around. Maybe she could find a cozy corner where she could doze off without getting in the way of the company but when as she made her way toward the back of the room Fili and Kili called her name.

“Miss Elen!” Kili called and gestured for her to come closer. The two brothers were lying down on the floor next to Bilbo’s sofa which was empty. Elen smiled and stopped before them.

“Yes?” the half-elf asked with a smile. Fili and Kili patted the sofa at the same time.

“We kept the couch for you.” Fili said and Elen looked at them, surprised.

“For me? No, no, I don’t need it. I will find a spot somewhere to…” Elen tried but Kili shook his head.

“No, take it. Everyone agreed that you should have it.” The young dwarf told Elen, Fili nodding in agreement. Elen blushed and felt a little bit uneasy at first but she finally accepted. Elen grabbed her bag and her thin blanket before settling down on the sofa.

“Thank you, boys.” She whispered, half asleep.

“You’re welcome lass.” Fili answered, Kili already snoring.

Maybe she would be sleeping after all. And with this last thought, Elentári fell asleep to the sound of the dwarves’ sores and the fire’s crackles.

Thorin wasn’t sleeping. He couldn’t help but think about everything. His brain was fuming as he tried to understand what he felt when his eyes landed on the elf woman just a few hours before. His heart had stopped beating suddenly and an unknown kind of warmth had filled his body. He didn’t know what it was but it kept happening. Every time the elf stared into his eyes, he felt his heart sped up and he felt as if he had to protect the young woman. Her soft smile, her cold silver eyes, her creamy skin, her courage, her teasing nature, everything about her was attractive. Thorin shook his head and sighed. That wasn’t something he should be thinking about. He had priorities and obligations toward his people, he had to reclaim their homeland. He was their leader and he could not let himself get distracted by a woman. And moreover, by an elf maiden. 

She couldn’t be trusted and whatever he felt for her could never happen. Thorin walked into the sitting-room, his mind finally set. However, his eyes landed once again on Elentári. She was curled on the sofa among the company with Thorin’s nephews asleep before the sofa. Thorin sighed as he watched the girl shiver and shake because of the cold. Her thin blanket was definitely not enough to keep her warm. Thorin shook his head at the woman but took his fur coat off and walked carefully toward the sofa. He stepped over his nephews, smiling softly at them before he delicately draped his coat over the shivering elf. He carefully covered her with it, lifting the fur so she could snuggle into it and this is when Thorin noticed how small she was for an elf. Elen was Thorin’s height, maybe even one or two inches smaller. The dwarf king observed her for a few more second as Elen sighed out in her sleep and snuggled into Thorin’s coat. The dwarf shook his head once again and turned around to settle for the night. Before closing his eyes, he took one last glance at Elentári and thought that he had never seen something as beautiful as the small elf snuggled peacefully into his coat, her long silver-blond hair falling down her back and her shoulders, framing her face perfectly.


Tell me what you think! I love to have feedbacks! 

xxx Lisy 

bellarke fam, why has NO ONE written Henry Tudor VII and Elizabeth of York bellarke fic?

LIKE come on.

what a perfect period piece for them.

imagine this, Clarke as Elizabeth of York…the white princess. Born a princess to smart and savvy Elizabeth Woodville-type, Abby and the King of England, Jake (Edward VI). Her family has been at war with Lancaster (Tudors) for fucking ever and after her father dies her whole world is turned upside down, her position is not secure. Her two brother, the heirs to the throne, are killed. And her uncle takes the throne and declares Clarke and her sisters bastards. She’s a princess without a crown, a ruler with no legacy.


His mother, who tbh is nuts, thinks he was born to be king, that it is god’s will, but the people of England don’t want him. They want Edward’s heir on the throne- Clarke. But it’s history so a woman cannot rule. He’s got a major chip on his shoulder about how much the people hate him and love her.

HOWEVER, Clarke’s mother (ever the brilliant politician) wants Richard to pay for murdering her sons and taking her children’s legacy from them and wants to put one of her children back on the throne. So she promises, against Clarke’s will, her hand in marriage to this Tudor boy, Bellamy.

He doesn’t wanna marry some York girl. She doesn’t want to marry some Tudor pretender. Remember, their families have been at war FOREVER, their entire lives. WAR OF ROSES, FAM. But he knows the nobles of England will not back his claim to the throne without a York beside him. La Clarke.

Abby says Clarke will marry him if he beats Richard.

Against all odds, seriously some crazy odds, Bellamy wins at the Battle of Bosworth. Bellamy murders Richard. He goes to London and meets Clarke.

They are outrageously suspicious of one another. Like who the fuck is this person I have to share MY throne with. On BOTH sides.

Bellamy is an inexperienced leader, an exiled pretender to the throne that she believes has taken the throne by force. Clarke is a “spoiled princess” that has never known real struggle and is beloved by the people where he is only met with mistrust.

They marry to unite their houses- York and Lancaster (ie. Tudor). And their marriage is not a strictly happy one…at first. Lots of shade.

They know no other world than the one that had them at odds.

Bellamy acts like a petulant Bitch. He wants to prove his worth as a sovereign so he does not marry Clarke right away which has some people like HEY BRO WTF WE WANT A YORK QUEEN. He has his coronation without her and is crowned king with no queen. A play of power. Clarke thinks he’s being a baby and showing great weakness by having to flex his muscles. He keeps putting off their marriage because lols he’s “busy running the country”.

Clarke puts Bellamy in his place. “Your claim to England was only legitimized because you said I would be your queen. To England, you are a foreigner aggressor, a conqueror, not its king.”

She’s fierce and fabulous and is handsome to behold. A true York rose- blonde, blue eyed and beautiful.

They learn to know each other a little better after that but they are hardly friends. Allies in the common goal to repair England.

Bellamy and Clarke marry. She wears a red dress, Tudor colors, but it is a clear sign that she is being married off like a harlot, a spoil of war. She’s still bitter af about being used as a pawn in her mother’s political game.

Their wedding night is terrible and awkward and they do their duty but do not speak. Clarke becomes pregnant immediately. Like FREAKISHLY fast.

Bellamy is in awe of her. TBH. He falls in love with her over the period of her pregnancy. She’s regal and generous and when the sweating sickness breaks out because Bellamy’s army is foreign and brings the disease across the sea, she sends money and doctors and aid to the common people. “We cannot let people die if we have the means to save them”.

Cue heart eyes? Oh yea.

Eight months later, she gives birth to a son, Arthur. An heir of both Tudor and York. His birth means the war is really over. Both sides have their heir. He’s small and fragile and both of them are besotted with him.

It’s as a father, Clarke falls in love with him. Bellamy is a stern man and not lavish in the ways that Clarke is. She likes music and parties and art and the finer things. He grew up with nothing in exile and so he is not fond of the revelry of the court. But with their son, he softens. He also sees how art and culture make her happy and (this part is true about Henry and Elizabeth) their court becomes a supporter of the arts. BECAUSE IT MAKES HER HAPPY and he’s about her being happy.

He begins to gift her things. He’s awkward and doesn’t know how to make Clarke see how much he cares about her. In his plain court, she gets new dresses and pretty trinkets. She gets music and parties and they commission art. It’s the renaissance guys but let’s not get into how much love he had for his queen that like he literally became a PATRON OF THE ARTS FOR HIM. This awkward, grumpy gus that has no time for revelry makes their court a comfy place for her.

She tries to thank him for his gifts but every time she brings it up he gruffly responds “it’s nothing, really”.

She loves her grumpy king.

BUT THEY ARE SO BAD AT FEELINGS. Like, okay, they are married and have a kid together and they can’t figure it the fuck out.

Finally, Bellamy makes the ultimate gesture. He has her anointed queen. She could be his wife without being queen. That happened. But he’s gonna make her his fucking QUEEN in the eyes of god and the state. AND LET ME TELL YOU, her coronation is extra as fuck.

After, when they are sitting on the throne together, she takes his hand and he knows. He knows that she understands what he was trying to say.

They are not enemies anymore.

Their marriage bed goes from duty to awkward to passionate. His affection is apparent to everyone in court and they have more children together.

Life goes on better than before. War crops up again and they defeat their enemy together. Life is great, fam.

Years later, their eldest son Arthur dies at fifteen. From sweating sickness. The same disease Bellamy’s army brought with him when he conquered England.

He falls into terrible grief. They both do. But Clarke powers through. In their late thirties, Clarke tells him they are still young and will have another baby in honor of Arthur.

They do. But Clarke and the baby die.

Bellamy locks himself away in his castle. His grieves with his children. First Arthur, now Clarke.

He is in mourning for the rest of his life and never remarries (Henry VII becomes a shadow of himself). And every year on the anniversary of his wife’s birthday he releases hundreds of birds into the London sky.

Until he dies and their son, Henry VIII, has them buried together in Westminster Abbey. Side by side.

1. here is a king without his crown;
scared of the day he will lay in the ground
2. here is a king without his throne;
though he knows he shouldn’t, he goes alone
3. here is a king without his queen;
all by himself in a forest ruled by bees
—  this was the year he was going to die / he knew he knew he knew

ancientbled  asked:

places a crown that she had made upon his hair softly. ' a crown for a king. ' this was followed by a curtsy from the brunette. // c:

The white haired man smiled at his beloved one, he didn’t expect to get such a precious gift, he appreciated it and also was happy to have her with him. She was a great partner, confident && lover, Invel wants to have her with him forever like the love he has for her.

“Thanks but you need your own crown because the King is nothing without his Queen and you are my beloved Queen, Serey”

{what is a king without his crown?}
a boy awake at three o'clock in the morning, shoulders heavy with demons that aren’t his own. the world in the palms of his hands. not really living, trying hard to exist instead.

{what is a king without his throne?}
a boy sitting in the front seat of his car or in the first row in the classroom or on the edge of his bed. trying to imagine a world where people don’t fall apart as easily. trying to think of how to put them back together when they do.

{what is a king without his kingdom?}
a boy sharing secrets with the night, with the empty telephone line, with the wasp buzzing on the other side of the window’s glass. his voice, a million years older than him. stealing memories from a life he does not think he deserves to live.

—  that’s all there is | the gansey’s had always been royalty 
-The Wisdom Of Emond's Field-

by  Allen Joshua Arnold‎

As I recall, I saw her first
Descend a flight of stairs.
I felt her gaze, a blaze of life
Engulf mine in a glare.
The fury in her eyes shone bright
With a light no dark could yield.
That’s the day I fell in love
With The Wisdom Of Emond’s Field.

Bound and sworn, a hound of sorts,
My sword pledged to another.
In my chest, a chiseled stone
Was honed to know no lover.
Yet as I watched her walk away,
I felt my layers peeled.
That’s the day I pledged my heart
To The Wisdom Of Emond’s Field.

Far from home, I roam this land,
A king without his crown;
To hunt the shadows haunting me,
And strike Sight Blinder down.
My kingdom lays in ruins,
But it’s she I can still shield.
That’s the day I laid my crown
Before The Wisdom Of Emond’s Field

On the day she went away,
She wore, dangling from a string,
Around her neck, close to her heart
My family’s signet ring.
Mashiara, keep it near,
And know our love is sealed.
That’s the day I swore my life
To The Wisdom Of Emond’s Field.

Every night, I watched the sky,
And held her in my heart.
No moon that passed before my eyes
Could pull our love apart.
For in my chest now burns the flame
Of a passion she revealed.
That’s the day I vowed return
To The Wisdom Of Emond’s Field.

On the day I found my way
Back to my lover’s side,
I found her body in a lake;
She barely clung to life.
I pulled her from the water’s grasp,
And saw that she was healed.
That’s the day I said my vows,
To The Wisdom Of Emond’s Field.

Mashiara, love of mine,
I have no lands to give.
So, my heart, I hand to you,
For as long as I might live.
You found, deep down, a part of me,
I thought remained concealed.
That’s the day I crowned my queen,
The Wisdom Of Emond’s Field.

Niceart one-shot: King's Title

Warnings: none, other than spoilers for the general plot of re: hamatora

Pairing: Niceart

Genre: fluff and romance and angst and a bit of humor

Rating: PG-13 I believe, basically no smut or gore

Summary: King AU based on this image. With a happy ending, since we’re in dire need of those.

thanks for the help richardsthighs


He shouldn’t be here. Even if he’s dressed as a King, even if he’s claiming the throne he now gazes upon, it was not yet his. Still, he couldnt help sneaking back into the palace when he knew everyone would be out on the yearly festivity.

If his followers enquired as to why, Art would say he simply wished to check up on the throne that by rights should be his.

There was no one beside him he could trust enough to admit what he truly wished was to see the place he grew up with…him, once again.

Keep reading

Episode Review: ‘King’s Ransom’ (S07E21)
  • Airdate: January 15, 2016
  • Story by: Adam Muto, Kent Osborne, Jack Pendarvis, Pendleton Ward
  • Storyboarded by: Hanna K. Nyström & Andres Salaff
  • Directed by: Adam Muto (supervising), Sandra Lee (art)

The bond between Gunter and Ice King has always been a strange one. Despite Ice King’s insanity and his tendency to treat those around him like rubbish, Gunter, for whatever reason, has grown attached to the crazy old wizard. And as it turns out, Ice King has grown attached to his little penguin friend. That’s why when someone kidnaps Gunter, Ice King is out for blood.

The plot to this episode is fairly straight-forward. Gunter has gone missing, and at first, Ice King suspects that Finn and Jake stole him. However, our heroes decide to help Ice King track down his little tuxedo person. They discover a ransom note that orders Ice King to hand over his crown to a group of foxes. Finn and Jake try to give chase, but the foxes each have a duplicate tin foil crown, and things get confusing fast. Eventually, Finn, Jake, and the Ice King track down Gunter’s kidnapper to an abandoned building overrun by lava. Ice King, without his crown, cannot freeze the molten goo, and is forced to precariously climb across a fiery hot river of death. He perseveres, and is reunited with Gunter. It’s revealed that none other than Betty had kidnapped Gunter; she used his Orgalorg power to do something to the Ice Crown, but we’re not quite sure. Betty disappears before Ice King can say or do anything of importance, but he mentions that his crown does feel different.

Dun dun duuuhhhhhh!

There are really three excellent things about this episode: Finn and Jake’s willingness to help Ice King, Ice King and Gunter’s bond, and Betty’s attempts to manipulate the crown. The Ice king has proven to be a pain in Finn and Jake’s butt for most of the series, so when they decide to help Ice King find his penguin friend, it’s a nice character moment that shows just how much our duo have grown. Likewise, Ice King’s determination to save Gunter epitomizes his growth as a character. Finally, Betty’s attempt to adjust (fix? manipulate?) the ice crown suggest that she has not yet drowned in madness and still, deep down, cares for Simon. These three factors make this episode quite the feel-good story.

The episode was storyboarded by Hanna K. Nyström (who previously storyboarded “Everything Stays”) & Andres Salaff (one of the show’s supervising directors), two individuals who are both new to the Adventure Time storyboarding world (although Salaff had plenty of experience as a storyboard artist on Regular Show). They’re a breath of fresh air for the show, as each brings a completely new voice to this episode and the series as a whole. I’ve been eagerly following Hanna K’s work for some time now; she’s an insanely gifted artist, and I’m really excited to see what other episodes she’s going to make. If she can maintain the quality of her last two, she may very well be this season’s MVP.

While this episode isn’t as hard-hitting or emotionally touching as season six’s “You Forgot Your Floaties” (the last time we saw Betty), “King’s Ransom” manages to perform said episode in one key aspect: it’s funny. In my review of “You Forgot Your Floaties”, I noted that while the story was intriguing, it lacked Moynihan’s trademark sense of humor. This episode, on the other hand, provides an abundance of laughs. From Jake replicating seven clones of himself to go on a literal fox hunt to Ice King interrogating fan-favorite Mr. Fox (voiced by the outstanding Tom Herpich), there’s not a dull moment in this whole episode.

And that’s what makes the ending so shocking. I’ve written before about how the funny episodes of Adventure Time allow for the more serious episodes to have more impact. This episode is a microcosm of that philosophy, spending a good deal of its time trying to entertain, and then shifting gears at the last moment. In this way, it joins the likes of “In Your Footsteps” and “Something Big”—goofy episodes that end with game-changing cliffhangers.

Mushroom War Evidence: In the forest, abandoned cars and tanks can be seen. Betty’s lair seems to be some sort of pre-war factory.

Final Grade: “‘King’s Ransom’ is a humorous episode with a (potentially) game-changing ending.”

PS: With the airing of this episode, we are officially over halfway done with season 7. Hard to believe, right? It only started two months ago! I fear a hiatus is on the horizon…

King Without A Crown

“King Without a Crown” - Matisyahu

You’re all that I have and you’re all that I need
Each and every day I pray to get to know you please
I want to be close to you, yes I’m so hungry
You’re like water for my soul when it gets thirsty
Without you there’s no me
You’re the air that I breathe
Sometimes the world is dark and I just can’t see

I LOVE this song.  I can’t help but listen to it and think about Jesus.  This song contains Matisyahu’s testimony and how he “became religious”, but it also shows the Jewish desire for the Messiah.  I know we have our Messiah.  He came as a King, but he never had a crown.  We celebrate our Messiah’s coming always, but it’s especially appropriate to celebrate that fact now since this is week leading up to Easter.

There are a ton of recordings of this song online, so I’m sure I could have spent a ton of time trying to find the PERFECT one.  This is a real good quality recording, though.

Strip away the layers and reveal your soul
Give yourself up and then you become whole
You’re a slave to yourself and you don’t even know
You want to live the fast life but your brain moves slow
If you’re trying to stay high, then you’re bound to stay low
You want God but you can’t deflate your ego
If you’re already there, then there’s nowhere to go
If you’re cup’s already full, then it’s bound to overflow
—  –Matisyahu