
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...
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