Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Big.”

“Small.”

“Big.”

“Small.”

“Kili, you know nothing of the world. The bigger the better, anyone can tell you that.”

“No, no, that’s stupid. If they’re too big, you just don’t know what to do with them. But small? Fit in your hands, and they don’t get in the way of anything. Small is the best, Ori.”

“Of course they don’t get in the way if there’s nothing… But big? You’ve got something to touch and enjoy, they are soft and nice and warm and trust me, I’ve never had any complaints about them. I’m not saying that small is boring, I’d never dare, but still, a little…”

“Then clearly, you’ve never tried small.”

“I have, Kili, or I would never dare to presume!”

“Then you’ve tried small with someone boring. I’ve never had any complaints on small, trust me.”

“Can’t believe it.”

“And I can’t believe there’s any fun in big. But we could… well, you know what Oin always says, right?”

“Don’t touch my things you little shit?”

“No, Ori, the other thing he always says: ‘you’ve got to try and experiment to find out what works’. Well, I suggest we experiment. Let’s get naked and find out once and for all which one are the best: big breasts, or small ones. For science.”

“For science, really? That’s the best you could find?”

“Shut up and get naked, Ori. We’ve got to experiment.”

Chapter Text

Dwalin had been awful all night.

Kili sincerely regretted having brought Ori along, her sweet, tiny, wonderful Ori, whom Dwalin had made fun of the entire night. As if it hadn’t been hard enough to convince her that it’d be fun to spend a night at the tavern, that her brothers would never know she’d gone with the princess, as if Ori weren’t shy enough around strangers.

Kili rather felt like killing Dwalin for how dreadful he’d been (or she would have, if she hadn’t known already that she didn’t have a chance). He’d made fun of poor Ori, pointing out how small she was, and how she barely had any beard, nevermind a moustache, how she wore wool and a pretty flower in her hair instead of good heavy leather, and just how she was generally tiny and small and not much of a dwarf at all.

Of course Ori didn’t protest, because she wasn’t the sort to protest. But Kili was fuming, and after her fifth beer of the night, when Dwalin made yet another joke, she exploded.

“MY GIRLFRIEND CAN BEAT YOU UP, YOU DUMB BULLY!” she shouted, and silence fell in the tavern.

Dwalin laughed so hard tears started forming at the corner of his eyes, and Ori looked like she was trying to disappear under her scarf.

“Lass, you’re cute and so’s that kid, but she’d never even lay a finger on me!” the warrior claimed. “Look at her, barely half my size!”

“Well, she still could!”

Looking worried, Ori grabbed the princess’ hand, whispering that it was okay, just a bit of friendly teasing, that she didn’t mind. It only made Kili angrier. It was not okay. She knew how not nice it was sometimes to be a girl when there were so few of them, and so many boys everywhere, and they had to make themselves respected, or some day the boys would treat them like humans did for their women.

“That little mouse? She’d barely be able to reach my knee!” Dwalin laughed, and the rest of the tavern laughed with him. “Lass, I get that you’re in love, but if you think for a moment this little girl can beat me, then you’re even more stupid than we all thought!”

Kili opened her mouth to answer, but she felt Ori hold her hand more tightly. Turning toward her girlfriend, she saw that the little dwarf had gone from embarrassed to determined.

Oh.

“What are did you just say about Kili?” the young scribe growled.

Dwalin sniggered, and repeated it.

Ori smiled, and took her flower out from her hair before putting it in Kili’s hands.

“Hold my flower.”

Oh. Yes.

Kili grinned.

“Kick his ass, baby, I’ve got your flower!” the princess chirped happily.

Dwalin laughed again.

But not for long.

Chapter Text

Fili wasn’t a fragile and delicate flower. Having spent her life between her uncle and brother (and occasionally her mother, when Dis wasn’t giving lectures about women’s rights accross the world), she’d had no choice but to grow tough if she wanted to survive between two idiots far too invested in martial sports and archery. There was nothing she feared.

Ori liked to call her a ‘strong female character’, whatever that meant. Since she usually giggled as she said it, Fili was sure it wasn’t entirely a compliment. Since it gave her a chance to tickle the younger girl, she didn’t really mind.

Any excuse to get to touch Ori was a good thing.

Well, any excuse to touch Ori in a non-creepy, consensual way was a good excuse. Fili might have been five years older, and Ori might have still been in high-school (just barely, really, it hardly counted at all) but the older girl wasn’t an old pervert trying to get laid with a teenager, no matter what her brother said. Kili might believe what he wanted, but Fili was in love.

In love with a girl the age of her baby brother. A girl who seemed to see her only as a big sister. A girl who had just asked her if she’d come see a film with her, maybe this saturday, as friends, you know.

“What?”

“You don’t have to of course!” Ori quickly mumbled, her cheeks going red. “Only, there’s that film I wanna see… I mean, I’ve seen it before, but never in theatre, I was too young when it came out, and it’s be so wonderful, and it’s more fun if there’s someone with me, but I’ll ask Kili if you don’t…”

“I’ll come!”

“Really?”

“Yes! My pleasure! Just tell me when it is, and I’ll pick you up at your home if you want?”

“Oh, wonderful!” Ori exclaimed, looking as if Christmas had come early. “It’ll be so great, I just can’t wait!”

She was so bloody adorable that it took all of Fili’s self control not to kiss her right there and then.

It occured to her later that she should have asked what film they were going to see.

But things kept distracting her. Things like work, or judo training, or Ori’s smile and how soft her hair looked.

And when they got two the theatre and Ori asked two entries to something called The Ring, Fili did stop for a minute, because the name sounded familiar in a not-very-good way. But then Ori took her hand, and she forgot about everything else.

Two minutes after the beginning of the film, she could hardly breathe with the rising panic in her. This wasn’t at all what she had hoped for. She felt almost angry at Ori for taking her there, because what sort of person took their almost-sort-of-a-date to a fricking horror film and THERE WAS SOMETHING MOVING BEHIND THAT GIRL AND THERE WAS SOMEONE’S REFLECTION ON THE TV AND THIS WAS ALL KIND OF AWFUL.

Ori was just grinning at the screen, clearly enjoying herself very much and entirely unaware that Fili was on the brink of tears and NO DON’T GO INTO HER ROOM YOU STUPID CREEPY KID DON’T OH GOD NO I DID NOT WANT TO SEE THE DEAD GIRL’S FACE.

Fili grabbed Ori’s hand at some point, while the main character started watching a tape THAT WAS THE MOST HORRIBLE AND DISTURBING IN THE HISTORY OF EVER. The younger girl seemed please by that, until she turned and saw Fili’s face.

“Are you okay?” she whispered. “You look… Oh! You don’t like…”

“I’m fine,” Fili lied. “Perfectly fine. This is great.”

“If you’d prefer we left…”

Fili felt tempted to say yes. This film was awful and dreadful and HOLY SHIT WHAT WAS THE FUCKING DEAL WITH THESE PICTURES but Ori had seemed so happy to be there. She tried to figure out what she could do to make the situation, thinking hard about what other people did in such a situation, how the girls she knew seemed to act with their partners and..

She cuddled close to Ori, her head against the younger girl’s shoulder, one arm around her waist.

“I’m a bit scared,” she whispered, trying to sound like girls did in romantic comedies. “But you’re here so it’s okay.”

She heard Ori’s snigger, and it vaguely offended her that she couldn’t pull off the ‘fragile and delicate flower’ thing, not even when she really was terrified.

But then, Ori slipped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer before she kissed the top of her head, and Fili didn’t mind anymore.

That film wasn’t so bad in the end.

Chapter Text

Nearly year had passed since the reconquest of Erebor, and at last, the first caravan from the Blue Mountain had arrived. The entire company was overexcited about that prospect, all of them wanting to see again the families they hadn’t seen in many long months. Gloin and Bombur particularly missed their wives and children, of course, but the princes were no less impatient to be with their mother again, as were Dori, Nori and Ori.

Thorin was a good deal less impatient to see his sister, and Ori’s mother.

Fighting and killing Azog had been a less terrifying prospect than having to explain to two dwarrowdams that “hey, sorry, almost got all your sons killed because I went mad over a bit of gold and a shiny stone. Also, Ari, I’m shagging your baby, and the only reason we’re not married yet is because Dori and Nori insisted you had to be here for it. Welcome to Erebor, please don’t kill me.”

Still, as the king, he had no choice but to be there when the caravan came in, and to go to his sister to welcome her personally.

Dis and Ari were in the same cart. That surprised Thorin, somehow. As far as he knew, the two didn’t even know each other... though of course, after seeing their children leave all together on such a hopeless quest, they must have had a thing or two to talk about. Nothing strange with that.

It was strange however that they were holding hands in the cart. Dis let go of the older dwarrowdam when she hopped down, but took it again to help Ari join her. It wasn’t an illogical thing to do (Ari was almost as old as Balin, and Thorin had heard from Ori that she’d never fully recovered from a wound to the knee she’d gotten at Azanulbizar) but with her sons around, Ari would easily have found someone else to help her.

And there was no logical reason for Dis to keep holding her hand after they were both on the ground. There was something challenging in Dis’s bearing too, her smile nothing short of defiant as she looked at her brother and they walked toward him.

“Good day, brother,” she said cheerfully, Ari and her bowing slightly. “It has been a long time. I am glad to see you well. Where are my sons?”

“We... thought you’d arrive tomorrow,” Thorin explained, “and so they went to hunt. They hoped to catch a rabbit or two for you.”

“What a delicate attention. And where are Ari’s sons? Don’t tell me Nori didn’t expect us, or I’ll think he lost his touch.”

“I’m here,” A voice said from their side, startling them.

Nori grinned, clearly very pleased by his dramatic apparition, and at last Ari let go of Dis’s hand to hug her son.

Someone’s reputation would never recover from that, Thorin thought, but Nori didn’t seem to mind too much, even hugging her back. It seemed there was a heart beneath all these dirty jokes and those knives.

“Good to see you ‘gain, Ma,” the almost-reformed thief claimed. “Dori’s been a right horror without you. He’s helping with the cleaning of one of the streets, by the way, there was a bit of an emergency, he’ll be with us soon as that’s over.”

“And Ori?”

“Ah, well, you know Ori. He found the library. Now and then we slip him a basket of food, and as long as it’s empty the next time we come visit, he’s alive. Though we’ll have to find another way to make sure, the rats have started coming back in the mountain.”

“There are no rats in my mountain,” Thorin growled, feeling rather offended both by the comment and by the insinuation that Ori had not done much for Erebor.

“Now that’s a shame,” Ari replied, with a wink at Dis. “Rats are plenty of good. I know a great recipe for them, with tomato sauce, it’s a real treat, isn’t it?”

Thorin frowned. Dis blushed and lowered her eyes, a small smile on her lips. Thorin’s frown deepened.

He felt like he was missing something.

He didn’t like it.

A look at Nori informed him that the other dwarf was in a similar state of mind.

“Ma, is that a courting braid you’re wearing?” the thief asked, his voice slow and cautious.

“Do not be ridiculous, of course it’s not.”

“Really? Because it looks like...”

“It’s a marriage braid,” Ari corrected, with a soft look at Dis. A look that Dis answered by a happy grin. “Yes, yes, we should have waited to have you all with us, but a year and a half is a long time, and since you boys were all so busy playing at being great warriors, we thought we deserved a bit of happiness, don’t you think? And really, if we’d waited to get news from you, chances were we’d never have gotten married at all, so there we go.”

Once more, Dis threw her brother a challenging look.

No one in the royal family could marry without the king’s approval, they both knew that, and Dis’s marriage wasn’t fully valid until he said it was.

Not that it had stopped her before. Thror had tried to forbid her to marry her boy’s father, and the only result had been that Dis had left the house, and Thorin hadn’t seen her again until after their grandfather and father had died. He knew she was more than capable of doing the same thing again if he so much as considered meddling with her love life, and he didn’t want to live without his sister again.

Anyway, Fili and Kili would never have forgiven him for it, not to mention Ori.

And from what he’d heard, Ari was a wonderful dwarrowdam. Every bit as terrifying as Dis when she got angry, but wonderful nonetheless, and someone who could get away with hugging Nori in public (something not even Ori dared) had to be admired.

He sighed.

Dis did deserve some happiness, after the life she’d had.

“I’m happy for you two, I really am. I wish you good luck with my sister, lady Ari. You will need it.”

Ari smiled politely and Dis rolled her eyes, but went to take again her wife’s hand.

They did look happy, and it was a sight that warmed Thorin’s heart.

“Let us go inside,” he decided. “There are people who can unload for you, and we have much to talk about.”

“Indeed we have, brother,” Dis sniggered. “Tell me, am I mistaken, or are you sporting a courting braid?”

Thorin smiled.

All he could hope for now was that his acceptance of their union would mean a little less teasing from Dis, and a painless death from Ari.

Chapter Text

Finduilas had been lucky.

Maybe.

She wasn’t sure there was much luck in seeing one of her childhood friend step ahead when the orcs had asked to see the princess of Nargothrond before she could stop her (“we have to protect you, my lady,” she’d explained after, “we have to keep you safe for as long as we can.”).

There certainly wasn’t any luck in being dragged toward the North.

She had felt lucky when a group of men had come to fight the orcs, but any good feeling had been short lived, because the orcs had decided they’d rather slay their prisoners than risk having them freed.

The girl who’d claimed Finduilas’s name was the first to die, the orcs even taunting the men before one of them ran his sword through her chest. They laughed then, before turning to the others.

Finduilas had been lucky again then, because the orc trying to kill her had died before he could touch her, an arrow piercing his throat, and she’d had the sense to fall down and play dead. When the fight had really begun, she had crawled away, until she was far enough to stand up and run away. She’d seen too many victories of the orcs lately to not fear this would be another one.

She ran for days and nights, stopping only when she needed rest of food, trying to find her way back to Nargothrond. The dragon would still be there, she knew that, but she also had some of finding Turin. If Glaurung had meant to kill him, she thought, then he would have done it right away, instead of enchanting him. Which meant that somewhere in the world, Turin still lived and she would find him. It was a fool’s hope, a part of her knew it, but it was the only thing she had left: her father she’d seen dead, of her brother she’d had no news since the fall of Hithlum... Turin was what she had left, for better or worse.

She could just see the river Nalrog to the distance when orcs found her again.

Not so lucky, then.

They weren’t the same ones that had captured her and the other maidens (she thought they weren’t the same... the armours seemed different, but they all looked the same to her, just as she supposed all elves looked the same to them). She tried to run, of course, but she’d been running for days already, and was too exhausted to go fast enough. And go where, anyway?

But just as they caught up with her, so did her luck, and a small company of elves arrived, strongly armed, that killed the creatures before they could lay a hand on the princess.

Finduilas almost cried in relief. She wasn’t alone anymore.

“Who are you?” their captain asked her softly. Or maybe he was more than a captain, there was an air about him...

“I am from Nargothrond,” she explained, uncertain if she should reveal her name. “I was captured there with my friends... but they died while I escaped, and now I wish to return home, to see what’s left of it.”

“Don’t you fear the Worm? He’s killed and devoured many stronger than you.”

“I know. He killed my father. And yet, I have a friend who might yet be alive in the city, and so I must go there and find him. I have nowhere else to go.”

“Then she should come with us,” a female voice declared behind them. “We are going that direction anyway, and we cannot leave that child alone, and we can’t afford to give her some of her soldiers to guide her to safety, can we?”

The voice belong to a human, an old woman, but not so old as to have lost all beauty yet. Still, there was something about her, a sort of resigned hardness, that gave her just as much presence as if she were of the First Born. She had dark hair, almost the same redish hue as Turin, but most of its colour had already given way to grey.

“Come, Mablung, we must take her with us,” the woman decided. “Look at her, she’s made it this far, I do not think any of us could convince her to turn away now, should we even try it. Am I wrong, child?”

There was something offending about being called child by someone who was probably younger than her, but she allowed it. The human woman seemed to have seen more of the world than her, and maybe it was fair of her to treat her so. So Finduilas nodded firmly, and said nothing. It didn’t please Mablung, who grumbled something against ladies who couldn’t understand that their place wasn’t in the wild, but he still agreed.

“We'll camp here for the night. These couldn’t be the only orcs around, and we can’t be sure we’ll find another place easier to defend if we go away. Nirdor! You are in charge of our guest. Make sure she’s not wounded, and give her something warmer for the night.

Finduilas almost protested that she didn’t need anything, really, and that she had no wound to speak of (the sole of her feet was in a dreadful state, certainly, since she’d lost her shoes long ago, and she had a few scratches due to running among trees and falling (not that she’d admit to that) but nothing serious, really). But before she could say a thing, a young soldier approached her and asked her to follow him near a tree against which she would sit more comfortably.

Nirdor was young and small, and apparently determined to keep his helmet on. Probably to look more like a warrior, Finduilas thought. She’d seen other boys do that, before they all followed Turin and... never came back.

“I am quite fine you know,” she told him and he took from a small bag a pot of smelly salve. “Nothing bad, it’s all...”

“Some of these have started getting infected,” the boy cut her, his voice younger than she’d have expected. “It’s nothing too bad yet, but you could die from it. And wouldn’t it be a stupid way to go, after escaping the orcs and the dragon, to die because you cut your feet on a stone and didn’t care for it properly?”

There was more than youth to that face and voice, Finduilas decided. There was...

“Are you really a boy?” she asked.

Nirdor almost dropped his pot of salve in surprise. The youth threw a quick look around, clearly worried, before turning again to the princess.

“I am for now,” Nirdor claimed, polite but firm. “Don’t tell the others anything. There’s a few of them who have suspicions, but they won’t say anything until they’re sure, and if I am discovered they will try to send me back.”

“They might be right to do so,” Finduilas said, wincing when the other started rubbing salve on her scratches. “This is no place for... for someone like you.”

Nirdor grinned at that. “Like you can talk. Aren’t you too going into danger?”

“I have a friend there, and as long as there’s a chance he lives, I’ll do anything to save him.”

“And I have a brother who lived in Nargothrond, and though they all tell me he died, I will not believe it until I see his corpse, if even then. I was a babe when he left our house, and I do not even know his face, but he is my brother nonetheless, and it is my duty as his kin to go and rescue him if I can.”

Finduilas did not answer, and thought of her own brother, wondering if she would do for him what she was now doing for Turin. Probably not. It would not have been proper, and that girl had to be a very wild young thing to take such risks willingly. After all, the princess thought, her own situation was very different: she wasn’t running away and disguising herself, she was going home, and to the man who might have been her lover, if life had given them a chance.

“Aren’t you cold, lady?” Nirdor asked her, moving to take care of her feet. “I think I have a spare tunic in my things. It’s a bit large for me, but you should fill it pretty well.”

Finduilas looked down at her dress, and cringed. The state of that thing, really... She might as well have been naked, it might have been less indecent than... this. She hurriedly put on the clothe give to her by Nirdor, and gratefully accepted the biscuits the girl gave her.

“They’ll probably want you to eat with the lady Morwen,” Nirdor explained, “but proper diner won’t be ready right away, and she’ll ask you so many questions you won’t get much food down anyway.”

“Questions?”

“They say that a Man who dwelt there, Agarwaen, son of Umarth, is actually her son Turin, son of Hurin. Have you ever seen him? They say he is taller than an elf, large and dark as a bear, and that all orcs flee before him!”

Finduilas almost laughed at the childish wonder in Nirdor’s voice.

“I have met him, and talked to him,” she admitted. “The orcs fear him indeed, and he is a grim man, but as for tall... why, I believe he’s smaller than you! He’s smaller than me anyway.”

“But he is very brave, isn’t he?”

“The bravest of them all,” Finduilas sighed.

Turin had been brave, and yet he’d fallen into Glaurung’s power so easily, and he hadn’t reacted in any way when she’s been dragged away, screaming his name... but then again, maybe he’d just been relieved to be rid of her, and of the affections he claimed to be unwanted...

“We all loved and admired him, and we all thought it was a pity he was born mortal, for he would have made a great elf, the like of which have not been seen since the passing of Feanor himself.”

In good and bad, she thought. Nargothrond might have survived longer, had it not been for Turin’s pride... and yet, he’d made them feel like they could fight, could make a difference, and they had all loved the feeling at the time, as if fire had been burning in their blood... Turin’s advice had been dreadful, but they had all been more than happy to follow him. He was that sort of man, and Finduilas supposed that in his days, Feanor must have been too.

“Doesn’t sound like much of a compliment,” Nirdor noted with a frown.

“I suppose not. But then, look what happened. I do not blame him alone of course, my... king should have known better, we all should have. And yet, I hope Turin lives. It would be a pity to have lost one as brave and strong as him, and I feel he has still his part to play in all this. But I see more darkness yet coming, and...”

“Damn, aren’t you a cheerful one!” Nirdor grunted. “It’s always the same with you people, not one of you can stop being gloomy and broody for just five minutes. Life isn’t all so bad! You’re alive, aren’t you? And you’ve found us, so we’ll protect you, that’s another good thing. And once we’ve all finished our business here, we’ll take you with us back to Doriath, and you’ll get to meet the lady Melian, isn’t that nice? Doriath is the most beautiful place there is, you’ll see.”

Finduilas smiled weakly, amazed once more at how very young Nirdor seemed. She might have been almost as tall as the princess, but there was something in her eyes that made her almost a child, and Finduilas wondered how anyone could have let her come, even if they really had mistaken her for a boy. But maybe they’d just taken anyone who wanted to come on such a perilous travel...

“Ah, they’ll be wanting you now,” Nirdor sighed, looking at someone behind the princess. “Now, if I were you, I wouldn’t tell anything to the lady Morwen about how her son is more or less responsible for what happened in Nargothrond, hm? She’s an old woman and she loves him dearly, so just... tell him how he was brave and strong and all the men wanted to be his friend, and all the women wished they could have seduced him, all right?”

“I’ll do my best,” Finduilas promised, and to her surprise, she smiled. She hadn’t smiled since... since her father’s army had left, probably.

Nirdor smiled back, and taking her hand, she planted a small kiss on her knuckles before helping the princess get up. The girl grinned at Finduilas’s expression of shock, barely containing a laughter, and pushed her gently toward the place where the lady Morwen sat.

The nerve of her! Finduilas thought, outraged. Such an intimate act, and when they didn’t even know each other’s name, it was...

Not so bad, really.

After such a long time of being ignored by Turin, of Gwindor acting as if he were now unworthy of her to the point of flinching at the friendliest touch, it was nice to have someone show spontaneous affection toward her, even if it were a wild little girl with strange ideas of duties.

Maybe Nirdor was right.

Maybe she should try to appreciate her luck, and to feel as happy as she could.

Chapter Text

The weather is hot, the birds are singing, and this morning I woke up with breasts on my chest. Welcome, everyone, to Night Vale.

As some of you might have noticed, Sex-Swap Day is upon us, and as always on such a day, we all woke up with a body that wasn’t our own yesterday. It is such a lovely time of the year, especially for teenagers who always seem to enjoy Sex-Swap Day a great deal. And I can’t blame them for it! I do so like being Cecilia for a day. It is such a nice occasions to wear a nice dress, and luckily the weather is on our side this year.

Now folks, do you know who called me this morning just before I got on air? That’s right, Carlos! She was apparently unaware that Sex-Swap day was today, and felt rather panicked about the changes she experienced. Can you believe she didn’t even know that Sex-Swap day was a thing that exists? I tried to tell her not to panic, but her voice rose and she told me that no, the world didn’t work like that, and people couldn’t just wake up in a body that wasn’t their own simply because the City Council had decided it would help fight sexism and misogyny.

And she’s a scientist, too. But obviously, she’s not in the right branch of science, so we’ll excuse her for that gap in her otherwise extensive knowledge of the world, won’t we?

I wonder if she has long hair at the moment. I never do on Sex-Swap Day, and that’s a shame, but can you just imagine Carlos’s perfect hair, long and flowing in the wind, surrounding her perfect face while she smiles, talking about science in a lovely blue dress with a pattern of yellow flowers… A shame I’m on the air today, and I can’t go see it myself, but that’s the sort of sacrifices one must do for her community.

////

Folks, Carlos just called again, asking not to be called a woman.

"Well," I said, “you are one for today, that is the point of it, and maybe you should pick a female name. You would make a wonderful Carla," I said.

But Carlos said “no, Cecil, that’s not how it work, and I don’t care what drugs were put in my coffee this morning, but I am not a woman, I am a man, even with breasts I am a man."

"You shouldn’t say that," I said, because if the sheriff secret police heard that she refused to accept Sex-Swap Day, she might get in troubles.

Do you folks remember what happened to Bob from the grocery store? I am not going to remind you of it, because we are, apparently, not supposed to talk about it, but I am sure the vision of his mangled, bloodied body that was found in front of his grocery store after he tried to petition against Sex-Swap Day is one that will haunt us for the rest of our days.

"Cecil," he said.

"Cecilia," I corrected, because I do quite like the name. It’s a nice name. It is on the list of authorized names for Night Vale children, in case you didn’t know, so if you’re having a baby and it’s born with a female body, do consider Cecilia. It’s a good strong name that will do them good, unless they decide to go into the radio business, in which case it would just be embarrassing for everyone because no one would know which Cecilia people are talking about at any given time.

"Cecilia," Carlos said, “I think you do not understand how bad the situation is. I have nothing to wear now. I cannot get out of my house because none of my clothes fit anymore."

"Well, you can just stay naked," was my suggestion. “I will stop by when I am done with the broadcast, and we’ll figure out something."

There was a moment of silence on the phone, and for a moment I wondered if the sheriff secret police had decided that Carlos’s earlier words deserved a punishment. Now folks, I don’t think you can imagine how worried I was during these few seconds. Can you imagine what the world would be like without Carlos’s perfection to give us something to look forward to? I don’t want to imagine it. Carlos might be a newcomer, and sometimes she doesn’t get those little touches that make Night Vale home, but she’s one of us now.

But thankfully, after a few instants of dreadful silence, Carlos spoke again.

"Cecilia, I do not think you realize what you just said," she said very slowly. “You just asked me to remain naked while I wait for you to come and see me, are you aware of that?"

"Well, of course I am aware of that," I answered, since I was. I had, after all, just said it. But Carlos is a little strange like that at times. “Do you want me to come or not?" I asked.

"Yes, yes of course," she answered, and you could hear her smile. “I will be waiting for you, and trying to figure out how this happened. There was a strange taste in the coffee this morning, that must have been it. Well, I’ll let you work now, Cecilia. Thanks for… offering to help."

And she hung up. Now, I don’t know about you folks, but I’d say that for me, this looks like yet another very good Sex-Swap Day.

In other news, I’ve just been informed by a call from the City Council that Cecilia no longer is on the list of authorized names for Night Vale children, because there are already too many. You can still call your child Louise, Nathan, Dolores, or Apple Tree. These are, at the moments, the only items on the list of authorized names for Night Vale children. Calling, or even nicknaming your child otherwise will result in your death. This was a friendly reminder from the City Council.

And now, the weather.

Chapter Text

Ori looked at Bilbo’s chest with no small degree of curiosity. She knew, of course, that since they were different species, some details of their bodies would be fairly different. It was still strange to see hairless breasts.

Not that hers were that hairy, sadly. She was still young, and her hair chest were only just started to properly grow, so that her breasts looked barely any better than Kili’s face. Not that Bilbo seemed to mind, if her wide eyes and her flushed cheeks were any indication.

"This is… different from what I expected," the hobbit admitted, letting her fingers brush over the soft hair on Ori’s chest. "Is that why dwarves have such smooth feet? You hide all your hairs… elsewhere?"

Ori couldn’t help a giggle. “I could said hobbits are strange for only have hairs on their feet! Look at that, your titties are all naked! You must get so cold in winter!”

"Titties?"

Ori nodded, then grinned. “Titties. Boobs,” she said, cupping one of Bilbo’s. “Boulders.”

"It always come back to stone with you dwarves," Bilbo laughed, before moaning when Ori leaned toward her to kiss one of her breasts, then the other, the gesture strangely chaste.

"It’s so smooth," the young dwarf wondered, alternating between soft kisses and tender touches. "I’ve never felt anything like that. It’s like… it’s like it’s not skin at all, and more… more like a peach!"

Bilbo chuckled, and pulled her up for a kiss.

"First they’re stone and now they’re fruits?" she teased, her own touches on Ori’s chest growing more determined. "You should make your mind, darling."

"I’ll need more time and experimentation for that," Ori replied with a smirk.

"Then go ahead, my dear. You can… experiment all you want, I see no problem with it."

Chapter Text

Kili had half kidnapped Ori, not that the younger girl minded terribly. She always got in trouble when the princess dragged her in one of her little adventures, but she always had such fun before that, it felt worth it.

This time, Kili had found a cherry tree, covered in fruits, and she had convinced Ori to climb up to it. The younger girl had hesitated a long while, content with just watching the princess up in the branches and catching the few cherries that she deigned to throw her. But Kili seemed to be having such fun, and she kept claiming that the cherries were better up there.

So after a moment, Ori took her courage in both hands and started climbing. It wasn't easy in a skirt (Kili had it easy, her mother allowed her to wear trousers...) but she managed.

When she finally joined Kili on one large branch, she was rewarded by a cherry so dark it was almost black but tasted so sweet, and kiss that tasted just the same.

Chapter Text

Thorin gasped, and groaned.

"That hurts!" she grumbled. "Surely it must be tight enough now?"

“Tight enough? It’s completely loose!” Bilbo exclaimed, trying to hide a smile. “My dear, you’ll have to be a little braver than that, I’m afraid.”

Thorin grunted. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to wear a dress in the fashion of hobbit. They are instruments of torture. How can you even breathe with that?”

"As my father used to say, you have to suffer to be pretty."

"And what did your mother have to say about that?"

"That prettiness was overrated, and that she’d rather die than wear a corset," Bilbo admitted. "I supposed that’s why she liked elves so much. She said they had practical ideas about clothes."

"I wouldn’t call that practical," Thorin grunted. "Now dwarven clothes, that’s practi… OW! Not so tight!”

"Sorry," Bilbo mumbled, kissing her lover’s shoulder. "I think for a first time, it will have to do. Now, time for the petticoat… and then the shirt, and the skirt, and the jacket… and I’ll have to do your hair, and…"

Thorin groaned.

The things she did to please her lover, really.

Chapter Text

The real hard part of having roommates, as far as Ori was concerned, was when you fell in love with them because of how utterly perfect they were in every possible way. She’d tried not to. Things like that made life complicated and awkward for everyone involved. Especially since Kili was already very obviously in a relationship with someone. She was always texting someone and going out with them every chance she had.

Well, Ori could live with that.

She wouldn’t be the first girl still in a the closet who had a very unrequited crush on her impossibly gorgeous and fun and most likely heterosexual roommate.

If anything, that looked like a normal step of lesbian life.

And it had its fun moments, really.

For example, at the moment, Ori was wearing nothing but her favourite underwear and a t-shirt claiming she was an Alpha Bitch (a present from her sister) and since Kili had gone out for the night to meet her mysterious-probably-boyfriend, Ori had sneaked into her room and was dancing there on very loud music.

Kili had a very good hi-fi system. And a few very cuddy plushes that made great dancing partners.

And at some point Ori started singing. Just because she could, and because the song that had just started hit too close to home to resist.

"I FEEL YOU HEeEeEeART BEAT TO THE BEAT OF THE DRUuUuUMS"

A quick spin.

"OH WHAT A SHAME THAT YOU CAME HERE WITH SOMEONE, SO WHILE YOU’RE HERE IN MY AaAaAaARMS"

Squizing the squid plush tight against her.

"LET’S MAKE THE MOST OF THE NIGHT LIKE WE’RE GONNA DIE YOUuUuUuUuUNG"

"Ori?"

The blonde girl squeal in surprise, and tripped in the middle of a rather acrobatic spin.

Kili was there, in the doorway, looking torn between amusement and confusion.

"I can explain," Ori quickly said.

"I’m sure you can," Kili replied, amusement winning. "Need help?"

"No, no, I’m fine!" Ori claimed, jumping back on her feet. "But I thought you wouldn’t be here tonight? I mean, I mean…"

"Forgot I had promised my bro that I’d lend him a couple dvds, so I came back to grab them."

"Your… bro? As in… brother?"

"Well… yeah? I go out with him often enough? I’ve got to make you guys meet someday."

"I thought you were going out with your boyfriend," Ori said before she could stop herself.

Kili’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and she threw Ori a strange look, as if she were suddenly understanding something. The younger girl looked down, blushing and wishing she could go back in time and slap herself.

She looked up when she felt Kili’s lips against her. The older girl grinned at her.

"I really have to go meet Fee, or he’ll get all cranky and mad. But you and I, we’ll have to talk when I get back, and if we play it well, tonight won’t be the only time I’ll see you half naked in my bedroom."

Ori nodded quickly.

That sounded like a nice plan.

Chapter Text

It was the problem when you dated good girls, Nori thought. They just didn’t know how to take a hint. She had tried to make it very clear to Dwalin that they had reached a stage of dating where sex was becoming an option. Hell, it was more than an option. Nori wanted it, and since subtlety hadn’t worked, she was going to be direct, that was all.

“So, when do we fuck?” she asked one day, making Dwalin spit her coke on the table.

Admittedly, she could have chosen a moment where her girlfriend wasn’t drinking to ask that, but it wouldn’t have been as fun.

“We are in public!” Dwalin coughed, looking around at the people in the fast food they were having lunch at.

“You’ve got a point. Let’s go to my place to do it then, if public isn’t your thing.”
Dwalin looked uncomfortable, and for a moment Nori thought the other girl might actually refuse, though she couldn’t understand why. Sure, when they had met, Dwalin had been so far in the closet she’d been dancing in Narnia with Harry Potter, but that had been long ago. They’d been dating for three months now, the longest Nori had ever been with someone, and the longest she’d ever gone without sex too. And while everything else was nice too, nicer than it had been with anyone she’d dated before, Nori felt it was time.

“Fine,” Dwalin sighed in the end, sounding resigned rather than excited. “Let’s go to your place.”

Thank god, no one was home when they got there, so Nori didn’t have to worry or explain why they were there in the middle of the day rather than in school.

As soon as the door was closed, Nori jumped on Dwalin, kissing her fiercely as she dragged her toward her bedroom. At first, the taller girl reciprocated, a little hesitantly perhaps. But by the tome they got to the bedroom, Dwalin was tense all over and barely moving, her hands clenched in the fabric of Nori’s shirt.

“You know Lin, if you don’t want it today, you can say so,” the ginger pointed out. “I won’t be mad. I can wait until you’re ready.”

“And if I never am?”

“What?”

Dwalin took a step back, her shoulders hunched as if she were trying to make herself smaller.

“What if I never want sex, what do we do then?” She asked. “Do we break up? I don’t want to break up, No. I love you. You are crazy and impossible and you keep getting me sent in detention, but I love you and I don’t want to break up with you.”

“But you also don’t want to have sex with me,” Nori replied hesitantly. It was a strange idea. She knew that some people were like that, but Dwalin couldn’t be. Dwalin was normal and she’d dated once or twice before, she was comfortable around people… Dwalin just couldn’t be one of those weird people who didn’t have sex. People like that were awkward nerds.

“We can still… do it,” Dwalin claimed. “I’ll need just a bit of a warning, to… to prepare myself, but we still can. I don’t want to lose you.”

A dozen questions and remarks sprang to Nori’s mind, and most of them made her vaguely angry. Not at Dwalin (never at Dwalin) but at the rest of the world.

“Is that why Oakenshield broke up with you? Because you wouldn’t have sex with him?”

Dwalin hunched up a little more, and let herself fall on a chair.

“No, it wasn’t… it’s not… We tried,” she explained, “and it felt… okay, I guess, but he got tired that I was too passive and… I can try to be more active, but there’s a limit, but I can do this Nori, if you just give me a little time to get used to the idea…”

“No, there’s no way we’re doing this!” Nori cut her angrily, and Dwalin flinched. The ginger winced, and took a deep breath. “I’m not saying we’re breaking up, Lin. Hell, you’re the first person I’ve met who actually laughs at my puns and follows me in my crazy plans. No fucking way I am giving up on you! But there’s also no fucking way we’re having sex if you’re going to just lie back and think of England.”

“Then what… what are we supposed to do?”

Dwalin looked so lost, Nori couldn’t help find her adorable for a second. There was just something about seeing someone so strong look so vulnerable…and knowing that Dwalin, who was so stupidly proud at times, was fine with being vulnerable in front of Nori… That was probably even better than sex.

“We’re going to keep dating,” Nori announced firmly. “And I’m going to buy new batteries for my dildo.”

“But you want sex,” Dwalin protested. “Enough to offer it in the middle of a bloody restaurant.”

Nori nodded, and came to sit on her girlfriend’s lap to kiss her.

“I asked for it because I thought you wanted it too but were too shy to offer. You don’t want it? Fine. We’ll make it work. Fucking you would have been great but guess what? You are worth not fucking.”

Dwalin sniggered, and relaxing at last, she slipped her arms around Nori’s slender waist.

“You say the weirdest shit sometimes. “

“Yeah, and luckily for me, you love weird shit,” Nori replied, before kissing her again.

Chapter Text

"Of course, she’s a handsome dwarf."

"Nori."

"I mean, I would want her too, if I like the brooding, distant, emotionally constipated sort who probably thinks of her duty even in bed."

“Nori.”

"Really, I’m happy for you. I leave town for two years, and you hook up with the bloody queen of Erebor. I taught you well."

"We are in love,” Ori protested. “We didn’t hook up, and you didn’t teach me anything!”

"I taught you how to throw knives and pick locks," her brother replied with an air of mock pain.

"You didn’t teach me anything that has anything to do with my relationship to Thorin, because we are in love."

Nori snorted, clearly unconvinced.

"Yeah, I can imagine. I’ve seen her once or twice on the training ground. Thighs like that? I could fall in ‘love’ too… and people say that after scribes, smiths have the best fingers, eh?"

Ori blushed and looked away. This wasn’t a topic she wanted to talk about with Nori. Which of course meant he was going to notice it and insist until he knew everything he wanted to know.

"Come on sis, don’t tell me you’ve never even tried her yet? Dori says you’re as good as engaged, you can’t not have shagged her."

Ori mumbled something, wishing she was anywhere but in her room, with her nosy brother.

"What did you say?"

"I… I said that we didn’t… become intimate, because we don’t want to."

"Figures. Royalty’s got to do things proper I guess, they…"

"I mean not ever," Ori quickly added. "At all. I mean. I mean, we’re fine like that! And… and at first I thought she’d expect it at some point, and she thought I’d expect it, so she told me early on that she’d do her best but it wasn’t her thing, and so I told her it was the same for me, and…"

"How can sex not be your thing?" Nori asked, clearly confused.

His sister blushed again. Of course Nori wouldn’t understand.

Whenever Dori had tried to keep her in the dark about all matters of the flesh to protect her, Nori had always answered her questions and told her stories… and she’d never really seen the appeal but she’d listened anyway, fascinated by the way her brother spoke of it.

"Lots of dwarves don’t… enjoy the pleasures of the flesh," Ori pointed out.

"Yes, the ones who love their craft too much and who fuck their tools if there was a way. But people who court people always have sex. What’s the point of it otherwise?"

"W-we do other things," Ori mumbled. "We kiss, and we hold hands, we… we cuddle a lot, and we read together, and we laugh at boring nobs… there’s more to love than sex, you know."

"But that’s just the boring bits you do when there’s people around and you can’t have sex."

Ori glared at him, suddenly furious. She knew it was unusual, she knew it could seem strange, she knew she’d never heard of other dwarves who courted but weren’t intimate, and she could accept comments on that.

But calling what she had with Thorin boring was going too far.

"It’s not boring!" she snarled. "It’s great and wonderful and when we are together she smiles at me like I’m the most precious thing she’s ever seen, and she says when I smile at her it makes her feel like she’s not old and broken and tired, and when we kiss I feel like I could melt in her and be happy, and when I’m on her lap and we’re reading it’s the best thing I’ve ever known in my life, so don’t you dare call that boring!”

Nori stared at her with wide eyes as she tried to catch her breath.

"Sorry," he eventually said. "That was uncalled for. I apologize. As long as you’re happy…"

"I am.”

"Then nothing else matters. Even if it’s a bloody waste, really, because two ladies that hot should be having sex."

"Then a waste it’ll be, because we’re fine like that,” Ori retorted with a smile.

Chapter Text

The thing Frodo liked best about knitting was the sounds.

Not that she knitted herself of course, but Ori did, and there were few things that the hobbit loved more than to sit by the fire with a good book, and listen to the noises of the needles. There was something quite relaxing to it.

Most of the time, Frodo only listened, the sounds comforting while she did something else. But there were nights where she watched Ori, and she was always amazed by how fast the dwarf was. Her hands moved so quickly and so neatly, changing the wool into clothes of all sorts in something that looked quite as incredible as magic, at least for Frodo. She had tried to learn, once or twice, without success. She didn’t mind. Just watching Ori do it was enough for her, and she was watching that night, ignoring entirely the book in her hands.

"This one’s for you," Ori announced with a smile, her eyes remaning on her knitting. "A sweater. I don’t want you to catch a cold this year… and maybe I’ll make you socks too."

"You’d better not," Frodo laughed. "I’d look ridiculous."

"Ridiculous but warm."

Frodo laughed again. She closed her book, and climbed on Ori’s lap ,forcing her to put away her work.

"I don’t want socks to keep me warm," she claimed, kissing the dwarf’s cheek, running her fingers in Ori’s beard. "That’s your job, after all."

Ori chuckled, and kissed her softly.

Chapter Text

Knitting is calming, soothing even, and Annie loved it for that. The screams and the sights of the Games disappear with the movements of her needles. It is something she can focus on. The idea came from Katniss’s mother, but it’s Johanna who got her the needles and wool the first time, and she’s grateful for it.

Johanna is also the one who taught her, and it had been a surprise that she even knew how… but she had always been a surprising woman after all.

She has knitted for everyone that she knows now.

Sometimes, she even knits for people who are dead. It distressed her at first, but then Johanna suggested they could lay those on the tombs of the people they’ve lost. It’s strangely sentimental, coming from her, and just for that reason, Annie considers it for a moment… but she eventually decides against it, and gives them away to survivors.

The dead don’t get cold. The living do.

She makes scarves too, and socks, and just about everything she can think of. It’s just a way to keep herself sane at first, but she realizes she trully enjoys it, and even when the pain of all her losses starts to go a little, she keeps knitting. It helps dealing with the memories, with her fear of being a bad mother, with the idea that Johanna might disappear one day like everyone else.

"You should sell these," Johanna grumbles one night, clearly annoyed that she can’t get on Annie’s lap because there’s a half finished sweater there. "Then they’d be useful at last."

Annie laughs, too fast and too high, because Johanna has been wearing one of her sweater for three days now… one of her earlier works, an ugly thing that’s full of holes… and the smaller woman claims that it’s comfortable and warm, and that after years in the Capitol, she’s done with being fashionable, thanks.

Annie laughs, until she realizes that the sweater is all that Johanna is wearing. The sound dies in her throat then, and before she can say anything, the other woman’s lips are on her, kissing her demandingly while her hands grab the wool and needle to throw them aside.

She smiles into the kiss.

Knitting helps her stay grounded, but other things work just fine too.

Chapter Text

One thing Kili had not expected when she’d sneaked her hands under Ori’s shirt to get a feel was to find breasts there.

Her first idea was that they weren’t breasts at all. Ori was a delightfully plump dwarf, she knew that already. But at the same time, the way the scribe squeaked when her hands grabbed the small lumps made it rather clear that the princess wasn’t meant to have done that at all.

“What are you doing!” Ori whispered, looking around and clutching his chest. “I said you could kiss me, not… this!”

“It was just… the heat of the moment, nothing more!” Kili pouted. “I won’t do it again, but I couldn’t know!”

Ori’s entire face went red, and he glared at Kili, who wondered what she had done wrong this time.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Kili sighed. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable… and for the record, I don’t care if you’re a little squishy, I like you the way you are.”

“Squishy?”

“Well, you’re not fat… but you are a little above slim, and I like it a lot and I find it very cute, so… squishy.”

Ori stared at her, and laughed. “You think these…” he gestured toward his chest “are just because I’m a fat boy?”

“Well, I’ wouldn’t say fat, you’re…”

“Kee, I’m a girl.”

The princess stared at Ori.

“What do you mean you’re a girl? But you’ve always…”

“Dori’s idea,” Ori sighed tragically. “We weren’t sure we’d be allowed to come along if I were a girl, so Nori helped me disguise… I had to cut my hair, you know. I had very nice hair, and look what they did to it! Said that no boy would have had nice hair like that… but your brother looks like he came out of a carving, and no one’s calling him a girl.”

Kili frowned slightly. She’d never like any girl before, and the idea that she did this time would need a little adaptation time… but more importantly, the idea that Thorin might refuse a woman’s presence in his company was ridiculous, and she said so.

“I mean, there’s Dwalin,” she pointed out. “Everyone knows there’s Dwalin!”

“Yeah, but we’d heard she was just Between,” Ori admitted, blushing a little. “It was the word on the street, that she was a ze, but acting otherwise because… well, nobs get weird about people who’re Between, you know?”

“But there’s me!” Kili protested. “Did you think I was Between too?”

The very idea of it hurt. She wasn’t the girliest girl of them all, that was a fact, but the idea that people might brand her as something she wasn’t because of it…

“Oh, no, no!” Ori quickly exclaimed, taking her hands and kissing her cheek. “No one ever doubted you! But you’re a princess, and just because Thorin was taking you, we weren’t sure for me, and it was safer… Do you still like me?”

“What?”

“Even if I’m a girl… I know it’s not what… what you thought, and I’ll get it if you don’t…”

“I’ve never been with a girl,” Kili confessed. Ori starting pulling back, but the princess didn’t allow it, throwing her arms around the scribe’s waist to pull her on her lap. “I’ve never been with a girl,” she repeated, kissing Ori. “But there’s always a first. And you could be a troll, I’d still love you and want to kiss you?”

“A troll, really?” Ori laughed.

“Maybe not a troll. But I’d still love you if you were an orc.”

“Or an elf?”

“Let’s not push it.”

Ori laughed again, and kissed the princess. And when Kili’s hands found their way under the scribe’s shirt again, there were no protests.

Chapter Text

"So, how’s your girlfriend these days?" Dori asked, and Nori groaned.

"Not my girlfriend," she informed her brother, not for the first time.

Dori looked at her and smiled. It was a very annoying smile, that looked far too much like Nori’s.

"And yet you know exactly who I’m talking about," he noted. "How is she."

"Studying for her exams. And she is not my girlfriend. She’s Ori’s girlfriend’s sister, and we are chapperoning the kids as per your orders.”

At that Dori rolled his eyes, his smile growing even more annoying somehow.

"You are aware of course that chaperoning them would involve staying in the same room as them," he said. "As opposed to leaving them alone in the living room while you and Fili are making out in your room."

"It was just once.”

"I asked Ori, she said it was not an uncommon occurence. She also implied that on the whole, Kili and her have been better behaved than you. Which I don’t find difficult to believe. So I’ve come up with a new idea regarding this whole situation."

Nori glared at her brother. She rarely liked Dori’s idea. Especially when they concerned his sibling’s love life. What sort of person decided that his 15 years old sister and her girlfriend needed to be chaperoned. The kids were perfectly capable of having safe sex, Nori had made sure of it, so there was no need to…

"As of now," Dori resumed, a smug little smirk on his lips, "Kili and Ori will be chaperoning you and Fili.”

"I’m eighteen, you can’t…!"

"You’re nearly eighteen,” Dori corrected, looking particularly pleased with himself. “And I have to make sure you and your girlfriend don’t do anything stupid, don’t I?”

"She’s not my girlfriend!” Nori shouted, just as Ori entered the kitchen.

She was dressed for school already (unlike Nori) and her hair was neatly done in pretty little braids (whereas Nori’s was still a whild mess). It was difficult sometimes to be the only normal person in a family of people who woke up early and were always ready on time, and Nori often felt the pain of it.

"Are you talking about Fili?" Ori asked, grabbing a toast and neatly spreading jam on it.

"Why would you think that?" Nori snapped.

"The words ‘not my girlfriend’ tend to be shouted by you whenever someone’s talking about Fili," Ori answered with a warm smile. "And I don’t know why. She’s very pretty, and she’s occasionally smart. I wouldn’t mind having her for my girlfriend."

"You already have a girlfriend.”

"Kili doesn’t mind if I’m also dating other people as long as I tell her and everyone’s informed and consenting," Ori explained. "And Fili’s very pretty. Maybe I should ask her.”

"Don’t you dare.”

Near them Dori chuckled, while Ori smiled brightly at her sister.

"Well, I think I’ll ask her anyway," she said. "If I get to school before you, I really think that I will.”

Nori glared at her, and then at Dori, who was trying not to laugh and failing. She was still in her nightgown, and her hair was a mess, and Ori was already ready to go… but she wasn’t going to let anyone as Fili out.

Miss I-am-a-perfect-student-and-captain-of-my-football-team wasn’t Nori’s girlfriend.

But in less than half an hour, she might be.

Chapter Text

Bilbo was the first up, as a rule. Someone had to make breakfast after all, and it certainly wasn’t going to be Dwalin.

Not that she wasn’t a decent cook when she felt like it, but she had a horrible tendency to eat things right as she cooked them. Sometimes even before cooking them. Bilbo and her had had terrible arguments concerning the eating of raw dough.

Breakfast was a simple business: pancakes, honey, butter, a few eggs, some bacon, a little jam, tea for Bilbo, coffee for Dwalin. By the time everything was ready, Dwalin would usually be awake.

Depending on how well she had slept, she would either sit at the table and try to drown in her coffee, or hug Bilbo while she finished cooking the bacon, which wasn’t very practical but felt very nice.

On days when she was particularly awake, Dwalin would then proceed to grope every bit of her wife that she could get her hands on, to which Bilbo protested loudly because the bacon was going to burn, and that just wasn’t acceptable. Usually, Dwalin just laughed and continued groping until they both forget the bacon.

Once everything was cooked (or burned), they would sit side by side, talking about their plans for the day, joking about this or that dream they’d had, or just enjoying the silence and the food.

Dwalin wouldn’t have traded that for all of the gold in Erebor.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

It had been a joke. Anyone present would have know it was a joke. Because that was what Nori did. She joked. People weren’t supposed to take it seriously when she said she’d sell someone’s firstborn for that beautiful, expensive looking bra she’d seen online. People weren’t supposed to go out of their way and buy it for her.

Fili had though.

She’d also gotten the matching panties.

"Why would you even do that?" Nori hissed at the girl who was not, strictly speaking, her girlfriend.

"If it’s not the right size we can change them," Fili assured her, ignoring the question. "We only have two weeks though, so it’d be best if you tried it on now."

Nori managed to relax a little at that. “You just wanted a private show? Sweetheart, I could have done it wearing something else you know. I’ve got a few things you ain’t seen yet, and…”

"I wanted to give you something nice," Fili cut her, looking confused. "Because you deserve nice things, because you never let me pay for anything when we go out together, because you’ve been looking at that bra every other day for a month, because I thought it’d make you happy. I’d appreciate to see you in those, yeah, but it’s fine if you decide to never wear them near me, as long as you enjoy them. I’m starting to wonder if it was a good idea though.”

Nori looked down at the underwear in her hands, the bright colours, the fabric even softer then she’d have dreamed… and it was hers, all hers.

"Shouldn’t have spent so much money on something like that," she grunted, and for a moment, Fili looked genuinely hurt. It didn’t last though, because Nori grabbed her by the collar to pull her into a kiss. "It’d be a shame to let it go to waste though," Nori claimed with a grin. "I’m gonna put that stuff on, and you’re going to sit on the sofa and look."

"Just look?"

"If you ask very nicely, might let you touch.”

Fili chuckled, and went to sit on the couch, looking as happy about the underwear as Nori herself felt.

Chapter Text