Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/699907. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/ Non-Con, Underage Category: Gen, M/M Fandom: The_Hobbit_(2012), The_Hobbit_-_All_Media_Types, The_Hobbit_-_J._R._R. Tolkien Relationship: Pretty_much_anything, Seriously_-_Relationship, Bilbo_Baggins/Bofur, Kili/Bofur, Bifur/Ori, Bilbo_Baggins/Dwalin, Thorin_Oakenshield/Kili, Legolas/Thorin_Oakenshield, Dwalin/Ori, Fíli/Kíli, Dwalin/Fíli, Dwalin/ Frerin, Thorin_Oakenshield/Ori, Ori/Fili/Kili, Bilbo_Baggins/Fíli, Dwalin/Bilbo_Baggins, Dwalin/Nori, Ori/Bofur Character: Thorin_Oakenshield, Bilbo_Baggins, Fíli, Kíli, Dwalin, Bofur, Bifur, Bombur, Dori, Nori, Ori_-_Character, Óin, Glóin, Balin, Frerin, Gandalf, Gimli Additional Tags: dark_themes, non-con, dub-con, Power_Play, Poetry, Size_Kink, Fellatio, interracial, Incest, Sexual_Politics, Dubious_Consent Stats: Published: 2013-02-25 Updated: 2013-05-05 Chapters: 42/? Words: 7566 ****** Words in the Darkness ****** by pimpbuttons Summary Herein lie: Poems. A lot of them. Pimp and Buttons prepared a challenge for one another, in which we would choose two characters from The Hobbit (namely members of Thorin's Company), choosing one to write about and one whose POV that the poem would be written from. Anything could go - platonic, dark, smutty, familial, and anything in-between. Expect nearly anything, from bittersweet lost love to deep-seated envy, alternate universes of love and loss, explorations of lives and hidden stories, and many things in-between, all told in poetic form, rather than prose. The poems will alternate, one by Buttons, then one by Pimp, and each will come with notes. Tags will be added as necessary. ***** Kili, on the topic of Bofur's mouth. ***** His tongue traces words on my flesh - words I do not know because my tongue does not work like his. My tongue is young and foolish. Quick, lashing, apt to taste without thought. I arch into his mouth. He breathes stories onto my skin, tales to teach me lessons and morals at our most immoral moments. I plead for more, fingers pulling harsh at braids. My uncle sleeps, with my brother beside him, not far. We must keep our quiet. So he tells his tales teaching morals and Khuzdul on my flesh. His tongue like a brand and mine senseless. ***** Bifur, regarding Ori's interest ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes of all of them with their booming roars and nonsense voices you listen although you can’t untangle the words of the old tongue you sit by me and try and watch my hands and read my knots and braids where Bofur represents and Bombur tolerates with patience you struggle as if you realize my inability to speak has not killed the things I want to say you do not know my words for bright eyes and sweetness but you listen Chapter End Notes we're calling this pairing Boarshot and it's my new favorite -Pimp ***** Bifur, on the Topic of Gentle Love from Scribes. ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Spell sweet words on my skin, with soft touch and loving hands, encouraging despite my rough hold and asking me for more when you should want me to stop. Your hands guide mine, leading in a dance I should remember, curling my fingers on your hips and on the part of you where want is most obvious. Beneath me, you speak and I think I know the words but I cannot understand. You cry, but pull at me and don't let me draw away. There are bruises, on you and on me from your nails and desperate slaps to make me slow. But you kiss them, and you kiss me with need lingering. I have you again, on your belly, yanking your hips to me, burying myself in your heat. You shout for me, some part pain some part a cry for me to wreck you, as I am wrecked. Chapter End Notes Here, have some more Boarshot! - Buttons ***** Dwalin, regarding Bilbo's practicality ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Only one use for a body like that Soft round curves of men Pale elf skin, pointed ears No forge-muscles or hard eyes Thin little fingers Good for picking locks and little else Callused only from embroidery Occasional pastry burns Only one use for the warble High and unsure Nervous flutters like a trapped bird And I kept waiting for the night I’d get it We all would, time for each Hands in his hair and a trickle of blood where it counted To pay us back in kind for food and fire On the dark rock roads But every night he tucks in Whining over scratches in his bedroll Cheeks dry, voice even It’s a waste But I am patient Chapter End Notes -Pimp ***** Bilbo, On Bofur and Bedjoys. ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Shh, shh, shh, you whisper, you shush. Your hands cover grasp, and pull, guiding, tugging, I shout my pleasure to Mahal. Shh, shh, shh, you manage, you chuckle. Your mustache tickles, burns, and covers your smile, your grin, my thigh. I whimper my pleasure to night sky. Shh, shh, shh, you try, you breathe. Your voice shakes, echoes and blends with mine, over mine. We chorus our pleasure for all. Chapter End Notes Bilbofur and some loving stuff~ -Buttons ***** Bilbo, regarding Balin's memories ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes was it beautiful I want to ask in the quiet of low fires although of course I know it was I want to hear you say it to follow your voice through iron gates and halls of living stone did the pantries smell of spices strings of apples tied, dried boughs of sage? did sound carry echoing while little Thorin played a hundred years before my birth? I want to ask about the mines and how the light would catch the veins of gold the color of the rugs and the clink of fork on royal china but you look into the flames the blackened wood and spreading ash and I remember what you see there and I hold my tongue Chapter End Notes -pimp ***** Kili, on Being the King's Consort. ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes I drip: gold, diamonds, emeralds, rubies, silver baubles, mithril beads of close cut design, cloth from places on maps I am not required to learn, succulent honey from my lips, sweet oil, perfumes, your seed. I say: titles, pleasantries, greetings, whispers, cautious advice, suggestions from a tongue still learning, soft speech only for your ears to be acted upon in privacy, half-broken pleas for something, your name, groans, fuck me. I move: arching, twisting, writhing, spreading, rolling hips, fingers grasping at broad shoulders, body dancing with yours to a beat I have come to cherish, shoulders tensing with effort, toes curling, shaking, to you. Chapter End Notes I have such a weakness for Consort arrangements and marriages... and Kili is my bicycle. -Buttons ***** Dwalin, regarding Ori's technique ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes trying so hard not to break you just like I tried not to want you and hoping I don’t fail as completely been with all sorts thick rough men soldiers under cliffsides clinging to life and to wounds and the guttural fear of our maker fair lasses of Town who wanted a taste of the sweat and the seed of the guardsmen pudgy and soft under hand soaking and swole under skirt but never in the places I’ve hung my boots or slid my aching need have I felt this and you bruise like a peach and your spurts come with screams and you sing as pretty as a jay the flush on your cheek and the pile glimpsed peripherally of knitted gifts and love knots set the tone for your wandering hands and the wanton bites you try to leave on the stone of my neck my palms cover you up and I don’t give a fuck what your brothers think you’re mine and you know it Chapter End Notes -pimp ***** Thorin, on the Topic of a Begging Prince. ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes I am chained, but you are pliant. You beg for me in the deep halls in your father's kingdom, whispering as though he might hear from his lofty throne above. Creaking iron doors near-deafen but are little compared to the sound of your knees touching the floor as you kneel properly for a proper king. A prince, in your own regard, raised on sweetness and in wild wood, but you are not like the prince that mine own princes are and I know your father playing at king has lain hand on them in turn. And so I show you; I show you how a proper king deserves proper tribute from a subject who has worth to prove. You cry and cry out in muffled tones, no longer concerned about the toy king, on his toy throne, might believe he hears from the deep dungeons beneath him where his prince, on bruised knees with bruised lips and choking throat, pays respects to a king in chains. Chapter End Notes -Buttons ***** Bofur, regarding Dori's lost affluence ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes it’s awful, really that a face like yours isn’t blessed with easy smiles you’d bring him by clutching at your sleeves and pointing ‘lookit dori, carvings’ but you were cold as mountain wind when you pulled him away you’re beautiful, you know that hands strong and smooth as oak stare of tempered steel I slipped your dwarrow brother a carving a gift as you passed it was a falcon sleek deadly lonely the kind that keep their plumage clean to be seen by no one I hoped it would make its way back to you I hoped it would be a totem in the dark to remind you that there is dignity still when you’re feral when you’re lost when you screech at empty skies and your feet are soaked with blood. we’re not so different, really you stand on a balcony but you built it out of trash from your own bones and grit teeth and you climbed over ‘Whore-son’ and ‘Bastard’ carried your family’s shame on your back used your mother’s tears as footholds and for years we watched you build it but the fire came and all your work was ashes your pedestal gone and you fell to the ground where the likes of me lived I could almost hear the scream when you landed we walked together for a time in the lowlands and the foothills unhallowed earth and brown grass for miles following a broken king and I wanted to tell you it would be alright there’s dignity here the proud and quiet lives of little people thick and rough but warm with coal dust in our dimples and tables laid with sweat but you fought it I don’t blame you there was no pride in you to be barefoot in the fallen leaves our poverty was nameless a way of life a daily test of bonds and strength of backs and love and sacrifice yours was different your empty pockets screamed with strangers voices and told you your mother was loose and your brothers were nothing you’re beautiful, you know that even when you’re breaking and your face smoothes over porcelain fired and glazed you’re beautiful still with bramble scratches on your soul and the soft bits of your legs the strength that twitches and cords in you even your sadness is beautiful but though song and words fail I would move mountains for a smile Chapter End Notes -pimp ***** Bombur, on the subject of the Sons of Ri and Sons, in General. ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes You don't remember me, as I was not worthy to remember. I worked in the steam of a kitchen. My brother's hands worked wood. My cousin could not speak. We were the sons of miners, and you were the sons of merchants. Yours gave coin excess to ours, in exchange for the work of our tires hands, and backs, and bodies. Later, on the road, ours gave food and clothes and toys in exchange for nothing, so that your small brother and his smile might survive winter without home. You are a creature of shame, of fallen house, and we are the sons of miners. We are the sons of wood, the sons of lost words, the sons of little food for many. Later, on the road, you saw me, and my brother, and my cousin, and our food, and wood, and axe. And you looked away. Ashamed. For we are the sons of miners, and you are the sons of merchants, who begged. Chapter End Notes -Buttons ***** Ori, regarding Kili's Familial Tastes ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes I never looked at my brothers that way the way you look at yours soft as moonlight and bright and burning they were my comforters cradle and spoon they led me and held me and tickled and soothed and nothing in me was awakened in bed or bath but I don’t think you’re wrong in it and I know what it’s like to feel wanting the twitch and heat because I’ve seen the shadowed planes of you in rock pools slicking away the sweat on rest days and I have watched forge hammers fall and kick up fewer sparks than those that rise in me to hear you two at night and I cannot really want you because the loveliness of wrist and jaw cannot match the sight of you together I would not wish you parted and I will not say I covet what you have because the love I have for brothers is just that but when I touch myself at night it is not between my legs but an arm across my back working the knots from my shoulders with the easy, lazy circles I watch him spin on you across the fire a song of touch you two have sung to each across uncounted precious years and I don’t have one of my own Chapter End Notes -pimp ***** Dwalin, on the subject of Fili and a Lost Prince. ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes A ghost hides in your face. He edges your gaze and smiles with your lips, casting glances that he lost his chance to cast. He is with you. Of you. Of me. Of the blood on my hands, when I find you, struggling and gasping to find your brother on the field. I feel I have been here before, Khazad-dûm or Azanulbizar Erebor or the Desolation. My hands touch warm gold and it stains as it threads through my fingers. I never saw the look of fear on his face, now seen on yours. He looks up at me from you and you gasp my name as I lose you both again. Chapter End Notes I have a lot of Frerin feelings... -Buttons ***** Thorin, regarding Nori and obedience ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes we have an understanding, you and I you will not touch my company you will not wander off and if that means I need you close at night so be it I will keep your hands from stealing tethered crossways up your back and you can reach no knives from where you lay I will keep the lies from your tongue by filling your mouth and your lips will curl only around me if you will not swear fealty to my throne or my land you will swear curses in the night the puffs of labored breath moving dirt with your cheek on the ground your nimble hands can barely hold you and if there are pockets on your person I don’t know about to store your hidden goods this cavity holds nothing but your king my nephews wear trinkets jewels and blades and they know not of thieves they show off their possessions easily and fearless and if one is misplaced and is found in your clothes or your brother’s pocket I will cut out your tongue and salt and replace it but I don’t think it likely as I look in your eyes hungry for so much more than gold as you suck on your knees we have an understanding Chapter End Notes -pimp ***** Nori, on the topic of Bofur's Past. ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Music thrums in your throat, tingles in my skin, echoes in my bones. I know this song, from a time long ago, and a time not so, rumbling through stone walls between iron bars because they were not so cruel as to trap dwarves from stone, murderers, thieves, traitors or not. My eyes find you, across the fire, across the river, across the hall, across the space between my pony and yours. And you smile, giving away nothing but the tale in your eyes – the only tale you won't tell because there are no heroes. The question sticks in my throat, gums at my teeth, begs to be voiced. What did you do? What put you behind those iron bars? Do you have black marks, on your hands, on your soul? Have you paid the price of being the middle son, with one too young and one dealt a life unfair? What tale is it that you hide? Chapter End Notes -Buttons ***** Ori, regarding Oin's tutelage ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Balin is my master teaching me the script and scroll helping me make sense of ink and capture deeds and song and story Thorin is my leader lighting the way through the dank of blood with sword gleams and fiery lust for gold and vengeance but none have led or taught as he in the dust of the back room he reads portents twisting truth from stars he taught me the secrets of fire how the shape and scent of flametongues had their meaning and left clues in swirls of ash I stripped for him my virgin blood essential as a token the only gift for furies for dead kings and nature gods his knotted fingers read my skin tearing answers from the heedless gods of fate and birth and death each freckle told a story for we are born, he tells me with the answers to the universe he shed his brass horn by the door there was no need for words and nothing I could say was worth interrupting for we were unashamed to paint my body with the sacred ash and channel lights from the ether it was a holy thing and I was unafraid for he was with me and in his eyes were wisdom and his words were deep with magicks and when the knife bit home he took my finger in his mouth we split bones patterned rocks spilled hen blood on the stone we prayed for family he for his brother and nephew the wandering soul of his Erebor love and I for my own vagabond and the hard love of the eldest and we begged and demanded their safety I watched the firelight take him the concentration painful as he gleamed the flight of bird to mountain in reflecting pools of silver we smelted ourselves we locked eyes and he nodded It Is Time Chapter End Notes -pimp ***** Balin, on the topic of who Dwalin has become. ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes I recall a time: you were smaller, smaller than I and soft in youth. You plead, nightmares plaguing, and I hold you close, to chase away dragons. You recall a time: battle so brutal, so entrenching, that you forgot yourself, that you fought because it was all you knew. You say, though, that you fought with purpose and madness. I cannot recall a time when I looked to you and stopped myself from saying anything. I cannot recall a time before this, before you swore your blades before you fought your battles before you gave up all and became someone I did not know, I cannot recall a time that I was so afraid. Chapter End Notes -Buttons ***** Fili, regarding Bifur's resemblance ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes he’s one of those things you don’t talk about his name rolls off the tongue when you mention his cousins but you don’t talk about him ever He was a great warrior once fearless probably reckless like someone else I know I try not to think about it imagine the axe had just always been there some childhood accident his mother swallowed it anything because I can’t accept that those things happen the vibrant laid low and abandoned changed or even worse just trapped he wanders like an old man weaving confused though he’s barely middle-aged I push it from my mind and don’t let myself think of familiar eyes fogged and bewildered under the cleft of a handle speaking nonsense and not understanding our shared night time whispers anymore because the last time I tried to talk about Bifur they all told me anyone else would have died Chapter End Notes -pimp ***** Bifur, on Fili's relationship to Khuzdul. ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes To me you come in hope. With me you seek your words. For him. For us. For home. To be king you wish you pray you plead to speak in our tongue. It fights you. You choke on words I share and cry for a past that is not quite yours, as much as you want it to be. I touch. Soft. Wipe tears, pet braids soothe hurts. Tell you to fight for words. Chapter End Notes -Buttons ***** Thorin, regarding Ori's willing substitution ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes their voices chime and call over hills while they frolic they roll in grass together and wrestle in play and I watch them the sinew of their arms and legs atangle sweat on the wild violets and I am racked with want but they are kin and they speak volumes of their loyalty with every flick of eye and the depth of their bows to me I would not betray them I will not call them to my chambers to be draped in gold like harems lost in bygone days I will not think of how their lips curl like their mothers and how she once decided she was done with our games and snuck nightly into my bed no longer I will not dwell on how I miss those touches on the supple twine of flesh on flesh I will distract they are not the only taste of youth in my company and this one is eager to please he draws pictures tracing his cravings on parchment rendering with charcoal what his fingers long to touch and granting my portrait’s eyes soulfulness they have not known in decades when I call him he is willing and if I hurt him his whimpers are soft he is not my nephews but he keeps silent and lets me turn his face into the pillow so that I may dream and believe as I wish Chapter End Notes -pimp ***** Dwalin, on the Topic of Bruising and Baggins. ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes I could smother you. Larger bodies fall to these hands and the weapons of my person. I could destroy you, and I seek to. You bend easily, more easily than the stone which dwarves build themselves from. You arch and mewl and make all manner of soft sounds, with your soft throat, for the pleasure of your soft body. Pale and delicate-fleshed, bruises bloom on you with little effort, and I enjoy the sight of my hands printed for days on your hips and your thighs. I could crush you, fuck you into a broken state, leave you shaking until your last breath rattles from your slender chest. Instead, cupping your throat with a hand that threatens your undoing, I encourage you to scream. Chapter End Notes -Buttons ***** Bilbo, regarding Fili's unexpected affections ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes I didn’t think I could pull you away that anyone could from your overeager boisterous child of a second half as much as it disgusted me we all assumed and the both of you were sweet enough and not obnoxious if not exactly subtle by hobbit standards the flirting was obvious so when you brought me the ingot made of gold and carved with runes and offered to braid it into my hair if I would have you I was somewhat surprised but how could I ask how could I clarify what it is I thought you had and you were gorgeous and strong and had I not been so convinced I might have considered you so I take it and your fingers move with love to knot my curls like they move in me tender that night and you showed the company my allegiance with the bead at my temple and I decided not to notice when Kili took his out and the glint of it abandoned in the fire pit Chapter End Notes -pimp ***** Oin, on the Topic of Gloin. ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes I midwifed first for you. My hands reached for you to guide you to bring you into our family, despite being too small to hold you. I bandaged first for you. My fingers wrapped for you to cover you to heal you from small tumbles, despite my clumsy efforts to soothe you. I fought first for you. My arms swung for you to defend you to show you that any could fight, despite not having strength to teach you. I apprenticed first for you. My mind learned for you to thank you to repay you for the passion you gave, despite being afraid to disappoint you. I traveled first for you. My legs journeyed for you to guide you to follow you into the dragon's stolen lair despite the growing fear to lose you. Chapter End Notes -Buttons ***** Thorin, regarding Nori and loyalty ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes you do not fit with them, your brothers they are rounded at the edges strong but smooth they have breakfast at tables and wake to birdsong you are sharp and hard and angled often broken and hastily mended your food is swallowed between footfalls your shoulders quick to tense the wizard says we need a burglar and I humor him knowing full well that the baubles on your coat were not purchased that the ring of red around each wrist was worn like wind-hewn rock by many days and nights in jail I am told I should not trust you by wise counsel and I heed it I do not place my trust in your word or the shift of your eyes or your fabricated past and cobbled history I trust your hand on your brother’s shoulder the steel in your eyes when he falters uneven portions of food I trust the look on your face as you sharpen your sword we are sharp and hard and angled and we do what we must for our people when bellies rumble and hands crack and heels bleed a crown and coat baubles mean nothing Chapter End Notes -pimp ***** Thorin, on the topic of Ori's covetousness. ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Ink-stained fingers reach grasping for something you have no right to covet. I see them - your fingertips - brushing at golden braids, lingering on dark tangles. You want for both, greedy with desire you don't understand. I want to strike you down. My hands fight to still yours, and stop them from touching, but I know you are just a child, who knows not what law he might break. They are princes, and you, a scribe of merchants. Perhaps, I will teach you. I will show you the strength of our line. You will learn what it means to lie with a king, before you consider what it might mean to lie with princes. Chapter End Notes -Buttons ***** Fili, regarding Dwalin and brief escape ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes solace in the comforts of little pains of ruts on ridges of being slightly torn it’s exhausting being the elder the heir and though I wouldn’t trade it for the world I need to let go and hand over the reins you are happy to take up the mantle and we pretend for the night I’m a concubine while you delight in royal flesh the closest your half blooded line will get to sitting on a throne I soak up the smell of you rough animal sounds and for once am not treated like gold Chapter End Notes -pimp ***** Dori, on the Topic of the Wandering Wizard. ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Where were you? Grey Maia, When our people wandered the roads, broken, and lost themselves. Where were you? Grey Pilgrim, when my small brother cried to the heavens for food to fill his belly. Where were you? Greyhame, when we fought to settle in the mountains, our coffers and pantries empty. Why are you here? Olórin, Stormcrow, Gandalf, gathering our people and giving him the key to home without giving us answers. Chapter End Notes -Buttons ***** Dwalin, regarding The Brothers Ri and their usage ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes you offered yourself in his stead when you saw my wandering eyes my shoulders leaning heavy in his doorway “He isn’t ready,” you insisted implored that I leave him be and to conquer my needs the hunger that would have me take him you offered your services “I am good at what I do.” and so you were your hands are quick and light and you know how to open your throat to me and swallow what you’re given you let me do what I wished to you and how much was acting and how much was habit if any was real I don’t know but you strutted and swayed and put on a show for me my satisfaction was paramount you worked tirelessly into the night against walls and on floors and you never complained there was always more you could do and when you were spent and allotted what you thought was proper time laying against me to follow it through and end the thing you crept away and your eyes begged the question your lips and your honor would not ask and my gaze was steady you had no choice but to trust in the end he came to me I did not pursue him but the groundwork was set and he wanted it himself he stole near in the night and ran hands down my chest waking me taking me into the trees I felt no betrayal of our bargain and he was not experienced as you were but he learned and his need for me was real I didn’t tell him what you did what you laid down at my feet to save him or rather what you wanted him to be I didn’t tell him what you reduced yourself to in the lamplight so when you came back for another dose to sate the beast in me and keep him safe I said nothing and let you knowing he would be back to finish what you left Chapter End Notes if Kili is Button's bicycle, Dwalin is mine dwalinxeverybody -pimp ***** Ori, on the Attempt of Love with Bofur. ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Your hands make mine seem soft, delicate, weak, untested. There are callouses on your fingers which mine will never know. Scars from mining, from working with stone, scars from working wood with knives I will never handle. My hands make my story hollow, strained, grasping, trite. My callouses are from quills and bites from paper's edge. These are small scars, with little notoriety to their birth, scars from playing games with words and stories not my own. Our hands seem mismatched, unsettled, ill-fated, disparate. There is another, for us both. We may not want them, as we want what we have. But even as we try, I know and you deny that we are not of matching scar tissue. Your hands hold onto mine which seek, reach, stretch, to him. Chapter End Notes -Buttons ***** Kili, regarding brother and uncle ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes we were always competitive never unfriendly there was little to gain in our lives we wanted for nothing your only advantage the throne and there was no changing it money meant nothing we were too young for battle affection was our only sport the only test of skill within our reach with useful prizes we fought for favouritism, nepotism, praise we measured his voice and cries the redness of cheek and shortness of breath as each of us plied our trades I had hands archer’s hands strong and lithe and steady you had lips soft and clever twisted in a winning smirk beneath blonde braids both of us had youth our stamina matched and our passion and drive unbridled and paralleled we went into overtime long ago no clear winners and he would never say definitively who was better best two out of three or three out of five until we were too spent to count and we shared the winner’s cup a royal shoulder to sleep on Chapter End Notes friendly reminder that everything I do, Buttons makes me -pimp ***** Gloin, on the Price of Princes and Sons. ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes There are scarce years between, you and you and him, but enough to leave him behind, shouting curses at us which he might not have chance to call back. I know the worth of those years, the weight of the gold in training, in experience, in laughter, in boyhood. My fingers shift beads on the abacus. The daggers in your well-crafted sheaths, made by your uncle himself, worth a month of meals. The bow and arrows and training to use, commissioned from a ranger, cost a bauble from Erebor's past. It weighs in your favor, our quest, our journey, your hope. Mountains are promised to you in kingdoms and in gold, and most beads are in your benefit. But the battle calls on all debts, all costs, and all payments are given in full. The daggers crack, and the bow and the boys are lost, and the beads fall away. Later, he joins. He comes with sorrow and tears and grief and asks for your daggers for your arrows, for your laughter and boyhood. I thank any and all, for the price I did not have to pay. Chapter End Notes -Buttons ***** Dis, regarding the scraping together of leftover things ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes dwalin the guardsman the clansman the keeper lifts you from your cradle like a slithering thing with too many legs he looks at me and wonders why I didn't drown you in the river line-mongrel fourteen pounds of disappointment and sometimes I think about it but perhaps he cannot understand it was my duty from that day the last sun in my long life when they brought home my babies' swords to me the line of durin would not end so long as I had womb and will to let it would be less than what my family deserved and when the traitor took your throne the gilded seat earned by brother and meant for son I stood by and watched and accepted I would not rule from that place but I would not betray my boys and so I smiled thin and weak and wan and he believed and the serpent of hate curled ever tighter inside me and I took from him seed and spun it into a babe a half-blooded Durin to carry your name and avenge the theft of you from me he believed I was a loving wife if cold if distant I was dwarvish and stoic and crippled with grief a cool composure was expected and if I died the night he claimed me and every night since it was no more than you sacrificed he does not touch me anymore I would not have it but Dain is proud and foolish and I let him call this thing his son but Dili my baby who could never replace who could never repay is no more Dain's son than the dragon despite his fat nose and sick eyes from the watered blood of that lineage Dili is the joining of myself and the gods of war the harbingers of rage and hate that have truly become my lovers that follow me through day and warm me at night and it is these who raise him and shape him someday he will be a warrior he will fight he will cut the elf-king's hair and lay his body on the stone in pieces he will be known as the goblin-destroyer bathed in more orc effluence than any before him a force of destruction a righteous gale who will stand when I cannot and take up arms against this world in the name of brothers he never knew and an uncle he should have resembled and when he is formed and strong and grown I will take my brother's sword my elder's knives my younger's dagger and I will pin Dain to the bed and reclaim my throne for Dili and he will cry to me that he tried that he sent help to the battle that killed my world and I will tell him too little too late Chapter End Notes okay so have my Dis feels because I have too many it's like when you accidentally cover your whole hand in lotion and wander around like please take some of this I'm drowning this is how these feels are for me -pimp ***** Thorin, on the Dedication of Dwalin. ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Son of kings, son of madness, son of a mountain empty but for ash and the drake that burns all I knew. My hands claw for purchase on the sheer cliff edge which threatens to spill me down onto broken stone. Your hands find mine. I am pulled up. Pulled close. Pulled apart and pulled open and left sobbing for more beneath your hips and your hands and your promising mouth, swearing your soul and sword to me. Falling for you, to pieces, to heart, I promise things I might not give, and you take what you can get; I still give you plenty. A would-be king on his back, a prince on his knees, a leader pleading for a cock, to come, to lick, to suck, to be hit, to be led, for more. And you give, you give even as you take and swear everything to me. Chapter End Notes -Buttons ***** Kili, regarding Dwalin's many duties ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes it was beneath a king to dole out punishments even to princes the long arm of the law could not also hold a sceptre he decided what we’d earned our crimes’ severity but while he was judge and jury you were warden it was your knee that I memorized your handprints on my bottom your stern reproach when I forever tried to leave my corner before the time was done I love my uncle and he taught me much mother-brother king and tutor lord and master of the house but his was not the hand that taught me lessons and his were not the arms that held me after when I cried and his was not the shoulder not the furs that heard my soft apologies and his was not the voice that gave forgiveness Chapter End Notes -Pimp ***** Bilbo, on Young Love and Ancient Law. ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Smudges of ink your cheek and my hand both darkened, dirtied from a brush illicit and dangerous to us both. Withdraw and recoil; struck down by customs older than the both of us and our fathers and mothers, pushed apart by centuries, held back by ancient law and left to nothing more than the small notes passed from pack to pocket, or pressed into palms while passing without looking into the eyes we yearn to see. Chapter End Notes In case it's difficult to tell, this one is about Ori from Bilbo. <3 -Buttons ***** Nori, regarding Bilbo's unworthiness ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes some burglar you are fat little thing in a tailored vest you’ve never thieved because you’ve never needed to I’ve seen your house bedecked in useless shit and fancy frillies nothing locked away nothing sacred in the ways of those who have too much and want for nothing what would it matter if something were lost you don’t belong with us you’ve nothing to reclaim you don’t know loss or hunger you whinge for missing home but yours exists it’s warm and waiting not littered with family bones scattered heirlooms you can go back when you like they took you as a payment the price we paid for wizard’s magicks for the blessing of the StormCrow you bear no merit don’t pretend to be insulted my brother is fond of you he sketches in his books your curling hair and child’s face he would protect you unskilled and endangered himself against goblins and orcs but I’ve seen the looks you give our leader and if it comes to pass that Ori should step between a blade and you before I can pull him away or you step on his heart for your misgiven, fruitless love I will end you so help me I will teach you the meaning of loss Chapter End Notes -Pimp ***** Thorin, on the Songs of Mothers and Sisters and Queens. ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Songs echo through the halls of a home unbefitting a princess a queen of royal blood, a mother of princes and heirs, a sister to kings. You sing the tales of our ancestors, our forefathers, our father (there are no songs of mothers past even though our sons ask for them). In dream and fever dream, calling for a voice not heard in seasons, calling for a song crooned to infants in beds of soft swaddling cloth, not beds of sick with swathes of bandages. Hands grasp for hands not there, pleading on my tongue in pain, and agony, calling names not called for even by the fading sons of our line. And in silence, in silence following clashing battle, you sing again. Songs of your sons, songs of my life, songs of our sacrifice, songs of our glory, songs of your grief. And you take a throne not meant to be yours, but never intended to be his. And you make songs of foremothers and you sing songs of sister-sons, mothers, sisters, queens. And our people sing with you. Chapter End Notes Or that time Dis decided enough loss was enough. -Buttons ***** Bofur, regarding Bifur, love, and healing ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes you were there in the night when there were monsters when we cried out for dead mothers when our beds didn’t feel like home you were there gently finding when we hid under cupboards to cry you were there when there was no one when it meant no time for you no love to fill your hours but the love you had for us when you were still young and should have been playing yourself not even grown, you held us against the bitter winds you told us stories and gave us songs bombur got better learned to make the best of things so very like you never solemn he took his love for Mama Ur and wove it into recipes he bragged about how strong she was the color of her hair as if the pain was fleeting and we hadn’t seen her nose bone under blackened skin and char and I tried my best to be like you both to carve my toys and be merry but the pain still came and I still cried at night I just did it softly and still you were always there when it happened it seemed like all was lost the day they brought you home you couldn’t speak you slept the sleep of hopelessness the doctors hung their heads and we stayed by your side and Bombur raised a balrog somewhere deep and grew five years at once and stared them down his voice like drums and made them stay I was not strong like that even for you and I apologize but we stayed by your side while they cleaned out the pus and rebandaged the soaking abscess and our love for you was such that we felt no disgust I prayed to Mahal every night even when I didn’t believe I carved you toys and left them on your bedside I told you stories you told us but my voice was not as mighty my words nothing close to prose my laughter did not chime like yours but I thought you might remember if I tried when you awoke bleary anew strange we did not care we held you close and rocked you and it was you who cried and when they stared at you in markets we held our chins high for you because they would never know what you were for us there was no discussion the word ‘condition’ was banished in our house you were Bifur you were one of us you would always be perfect and you and you still held our hands when we crossed a road even when we grew and it was no longer us who could not see the carts in time and the man who might have loved you stopped giving you glances and winking your way and we cursed his name it was our fault you never had time you grew and you learned you got better and after a time you could speak in a fashion though we filled in the blanks and spoke for you in public and the first night you realized your iglishmek had not abandoned you you waved your hands and called us over and told us a story and smiled and I have been smiling since Chapter End Notes -pimp ***** Dwalin, on Murder in the Mines. ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes An accident. The whispers speak of an accident, and the mention of family name leads me to believe they mean the cousin who crafts toys to delight and frighten. An accident, they said, in the mines, and I nodded along, waving them away from bothering while I drink after chasing thieves in the streets. An accident, they insist, and they press further to show that they do not mean in the distant past and war but in my city. And I listen now. An accident, in the mines, that morning, a line snapped and a miner lost, to the caverns containing little more than iron dust and new bones. An accident, I begin to look into after urgent pressing pleas from the families of other miners concerned, afraid of losing theirs to another line. An accident? Touching rope not frayed from long strain and ill care, but instead cut away in smooth stroke helped by tension, and I think, there is more to the tale. No accident. And the one with the easy smile and disarming charm is the one who settled in the rope beside the broken figure at the cavern bottom, seems the most likely. No accident, I realize, finding knives on him, knives for toymaking used to cut rope and send dwarves to their deaths in the stone, yet I still cannot believe. No accident? Cuffs heavy on his wrists but he just smiles as they lock like their weight is familiar, and says he is but a miner's son and a worker in the mines. Chapter End Notes Since this one is a little less obvious -- exploring a potential, darker side of Bofur... - Buttons ***** Fili, regarding the privileges of a silent audience ***** Chapter Summary OH HEY NON-CON Since this one needs a little explaining, Buttons' prompt was a dark poem in which Kili was born mute. Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes from the moment they held you the first time and slapped you and heard nothing we knew you were lively and bright there was no doubt of your resilience squirming and crying in silence your mouth a stubborn O and as we grew I spoke for you I always knew what you needed what you wanted I could read your eyes and the strength of your hand in mine we played for long hours in corridors of stone and mine was the only laugh that echoed and still we grew and still we changed and still you stayed silent and in the gardens you would point and I would explain to you flowers, roots, herbs and I taught you the knife and I carved you arrows to shoot with at rats and we loved each other you never had to say it and still we grew and still we changed and still you stayed silent and when I was taller and thicker when our smells changed and our mornings were heralded with different parts awake before we were you pointed and I tried to explain and still we grew and still we changed and still you stayed silent and when my fancy turned to you and I no longer tried to read what you needed what you wanted when I decided for you it was me you made no sound and told no one and your wrist was pinned against the stone and I ignored the squeezing of your hand on mine and when your mouth opened and shut on the cold dungeon air and your lips moved in silent words it made no more difference than the wind outside and still we grew and still we changed and still you stayed silent you never ran you never told though with shameful mime you might have with drawings or clumsy script you could have explained what I did and still do when I want to but I think you know better and still you follow me down hallways even when it means we are alone you take the risk because no one else has ever cared enough to listen and I'm all you've got Chapter End Notes -pimp ***** Kili, on Lust and Golden Brothers. ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Goldlust tastes bitter, like bile in my throat or those fruits from the east that Uncle never lets us eat, doesn't like the red that paints our hands, our mouths. Goldlust feels heavy, hunching my shoulders, crooking my fingers as I grasp for that which I long to keep in a way that most others hoard our wealth. Goldlust dulls sound, ashens tastes, dims eyes, covers sensation with coarse cloth, if it is not you that I hear, that I taste, that I see, that I clutch to my chest. Goldlust - the trait our people have tried to breed out, but always suffered- goldlust overwhelms me and overcomes me and I curl my fingers in your hair. Chapter End Notes Warning: Golden Dwarves May Induce Madness. - Buttons ***** Bombur, Regarding Bofur's New Employment ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes They don't look at you The guards, the maids, the men I still don't understand They act like looking at your face Is stealing You tell me you're a messenger But what do you send And how do you serve No messenger I've ever known wore silks Gold bangles Long chains And when I ask you cringe Your smile is worn and wan Your laugh is hollow ashes Your fingers twitch and rub Like a leper At his sores You will not let me in You will not speak your sorrows My food grows tasteless As I watch you decay And every day More gold To weigh you down Chapter End Notes - Pimp Buttons and I wrote an AU in which Bofur is the King's private and unwilling Consort. Sugardaddies can be rough, Bofur... Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!