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Ephemeral >> Dwalin X Reader

Title: Ephemeral

Paring: Dwalin X Hobbit!Reader

Warnings: we've got fluff, we've got angst, we've got a little bit of violence, we've got more angst- 

Spoilers: um nope excuse me here's a fanfic where 

A) it's set before tragedy and 

B) will never ever be a tragedy because I am not J. R. R. Tolkien and I value these Dwarves with my own life and will never let anything bad happen to them ever because I love them,

Requested By: madasahatter03, hope you like it!

Author's Note: I've just done my third week at uni, and in this time, I've written a short essay on Beowulf and got a distinction on it! Oooh and also, my French lecturers are incredible, I love them so so much! Okay, that's enough prattle, you're not here to hear about my personal life, you're here for our favourite badass Dwarf, Dwalin - on with the fic!

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Dwalin, son of Fundin, was a well-reputed warrior. His braids and clips in his beard showed it well, as did the tales of his ventures alongside Thorin. Those tales spread to the corners of the world as they ventured across Middle Earth to reclaim the Lonely Mountain. Before their stop in Hobbiton, never in Dwalin's life had he ever felt the need to be any less menacing in appearance. But that was before he lay eyes on the Hobbit lass, _________.

She had long braids of her own, tied back with cord, and wide eyes and a wider smile. Bilbo was a cynical Hobbit. But _________ perceived the world around her with a different, finding good in almost all she saw. Even, in himself. But he was an older Dwarf; he had spent his youth in battle and had never learned the delicate ways of love. His time had passed for that warmth, yet, inside his heart, he felt things for _________, things he can't ever voice.

"Master Dwalin," the sweet voice of _________ intoned. She had ridden from behind Óin upon her pony, the pack upon her saddle clanking like it were full of pots and pans. "Would it be acceptable to ride alongside you?" She asked, her crisp way of speaking rendering him mute.

How did this lass have such power over him?

"Aye," he grunted.

Moving his stead to allow for her to fall into the formation, he half-expected for her to continue talking, or to hum a tune under her breath. But _________ rode alongside him in silence, apart from the noise from the pack upon her pony. Under his beard, he allowed a small smile to grow, sparing a glance to the Hobbit beside him. While yes, she was like Bilbo in the way she spoke, but, she was in no way the other Hobbit.

For one, he liked her.

Later that night when the company set up camp, he did his share to tether the ponies, and feed them. It was not war work, yes, but the jobs were on a rota. It was why Dwalin was, instead of being on the first watch, tending to the livestock like a common farmer. It was something he hadn't done since he was a young Dwarf, fresh with youth, and it wasn't a skill that faded in time. As his job finished, he made way to the company. It seemed Fili and Kili were cooking up a stew of what they had managed to hunt on the journey that day.

He heard a call, and then his name. "Dwalin," his elder brother Balin waved him closer. He sat upon one of the stones that scattered across the countryside, "I've saved you a seat."

The seat, while was beside Balin, was also beside _________. If she was not close enough to hear, he would curse the old gods. But he didn't, and instead, thanked Balin, and took his serving of the stew, and sat.