LOTR and The Hobbit x Reader Imagines Snippets [Requests OPEN]

Young!Kili x Thorin Lost

The boy better not be dead. Mahal please don't let him be dead . Dís would be devastated surely, and much less, Thorin himself knew he would be sick with grief, and could already feel the dreaded emotion weighing in on his heart.

Stop that! Thorin chided himself. He's fine. Probably hiding in a tree somewhere. That's just what children do.

As much as Thorin kept trying to tell himself things would end well, he knew good and well Kíli couldn't be expected to survive long. It was a dark winter night, no moonlight to guide the boy home, no hot food in his belly to keep the chills away.

Thorin knew good and well he wasn't actually going to rescue his young nephew- he was just bringing back a frozen corpse. Thorin choked back a sob, bringing his large hand to cover his trembling, chapped lips. How could things have gotten so out of control? What had even set him off?

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Kíli relished the warmth his tears supplied while they were fresh, but as the time went on, the moisture became stiff and cold as the wintery outside froze his emotions to his face. He wiped his tears away with a sniff.

Stupid Fíli. Stupid dams. So what he didn't look like the rest of the dwarves his age? He didn't need to. Kíli knew he was just as much dwarf as the rest of everyone in camp, and yet...

Kíli felt his face flush with embarrassment. "Him?" Fíli spoke, looking over from where he sat cross-legged next to a lax looking darrowdam with hair more golden than the sun's rays draped over Fíli's lap. "That's just my little brother."

"Brother? Oh my, he's so..." Kíli cringed, knowing what was going to be said next, "...bald. Where's his hair?" The dam questioned, tilting her head. Her own hair mixed with her slightly darker beard, not even much longer than the length of a pinkie tip, with sweet smelling daisies woven into a neat set of braids.

Fíli shrugged. "No idea. He's an odd little guy, maybe a late bloomer." Kíli clenched his fists, turning away as heat rose into his face from the back of his neck, his ears burning. He blinked back tears as his big brother continued poking at him as though he were a featherless bird.

"Looks kinda like a wee babe!" Snickered the dam, eyes scrunched with laughter. Fíli snorted, shoulders shaking. "You think so? Well... maybe not. He's got a few whiskers, yeah?" Fíli stroked his own developing beard laughing again as the dam said something else that seemed to tickle him, but Kíli didn't hear.

He had already stormed off as his tears spilled from his eyes. He pushed past his uncle Thorin. Without giving an apology, Kíli sprinted out of camp, tripping into the forest as fat snowflakes fell from the sky, melting onto his eyelashes.

He'd gotten lost some time after that, the snowfall growing heavier and heavier, covering the tracks he'd made. Kíli sobbed, wiping more tears from his eyes. Cold he was just so cold. His lips and fingers were numb, and exhaustion bit at Kíli's limbs.

Kíli fell to his knees, snow soaking through his clothes. Cold. So much cold! Kíli couldn't bring himself to stand however, no matter how much he really wanted to. He curled into himself, feeling his eyelids grow heavy. I'm... I'm going to die... Kíli grit his teeth, fear clawing terribly in his chest. The last thing he heard before passing out, was a crunch in the snow, and the feeling of a soft touch, then darkness.

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The guilt should have subsided by now, but it didn't. Thorin believed it would swallow him up like how Smaug's flames completely devoured Erebor.

After wandering for what seemed like a good portion of the night, the King Under the Mountain caught a flash of coal black. Kíli's exact shade of hair color. The boy lay tucked away into the crook of an old tree, a moss green cape wrapped around his small body.

They seemed to be in a daze, but his eyes were definitely open and working.

Thorin rushed to the boy's side, grabbing him up in his arms and cradling the little dwarf's head in the crook of his arm. "Kíli. Kíli!" Thorin spoke sternly, gently shaking him a bit. Kíli turned his eyes up to meet Thorin's.

"Un....cle...?"

The relief in knowing Kíli would recover was staggering. However the fear and anger quickly overshadowed it. "What in Mahal's name were you thinking boy? Clearly nothing at all! You could have died on this night. Died. "

Kíli only blinked slowly in response, eyes still tired and face unfocused. "Kíli?" Thorin asked, petting the young dwarf's dark hair. "Why did you run off?" Thorin watched Kíli's breath mist in front of his pale lips. "I saw someone." He spoke. "She gave me her cloak."

Thorin tensed as his nephew clutched his collar tightly, cold fingers digging through the fabric. "She was so beautiful." He closed his eyes, nuzzling into Thorin's chest.

Thorin stood, cradling the small boy and began his trek back to camp.

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Away from the scene, hidden behind the trunk of a sleeping frost coated oak tree, a woman observed the two as they shrank away into the night. She spoke nothing, not even a sigh of relief as she turned away with a swish of her long, flame colored hair.

She walked in starlight in another world.

She remembered the boy saying in his daze, as he cracked a weak smile. Strange, she didn't think he'd remember even seeing her face, and it seemed he didn't, but he remembered her presence. Maybe... just maybe, would he even remember her name?