LOTR/Hobbit Imagines

Kíli - Hostage (part 1)

The constant rain had transformed the path into one giant mudslide, making you slip every few minutes.
Your clothes clung to your body, drenched in dirt, leaves and mud, and so was half of your face and part of your hair from that one unfortunate fall you had earlier.

The Company didn't struggle as hard as you, their heavy boots had a better grip and they held onto each other if needed. 

But you struggled and growled, muttering all kinds of profanities every time one of your feet slipped.

"Y/N, just let us help mimûna," Kili sighed when you fell on your knees again, your hands buried deep in the mud. The path started to go uphill and you were barely keeping up.
He placed his hand on your shoulder when you didn't get up, but you shrugged it off.

"I'm fine, I don't need any help!"

The two brothers shared a look. Fíli and Kíli had known you for as long as they could remember, and they knew you were stubborn. Headstrong. Fixated on proving yourself, even though they all knew you weren't someone to mess with. A fierce little thing you were.
You would never ask for help, even if you really needed it. And that was exactly what was happening right now.

"Nonsense," Fíli said, and both he and Kíli grabbed you under your arms and pulled you back to your feet. "We're happy to help you."

They supported you all the way to the top of the hill, carrying most of your weight between them. The others were already busy setting up camp for the night when you finally arrived. You pulled yourself out of their hold on you, muttering something that sounded like a thanks, before you marched to the opposite side of camp. 

Some of the Company members frowned at the state you were in, but decided not to say anything about it when they saw the murderous look you threw them.

You slumped down against a conveniently placed log and stretched your legs, watching the others finishing up the campsite. You had first watch today, so you were free for the rest of the night. Fíli and Kíli were sent for more firewood, leaving you to yourself; Bombur and Bilbo were busy with dinner and Bofur and Bifur tried to get the fire as hot and big as possible with the small amount of wood they had managed to pile up in such a short amount of time. And Mahal knew what the others were up to.

By the time the two princes came back, arms filled with more firewood and their ever-present smile glued to their faces, you had dragged the log closer to the fire in an attempt to dry your clothes.
You were still annoyed with them, they had dragged you up that hill despite your protests. Everyone treated you like a helpless little thing, and you hated it. Mahal, they even called you 'little one'. Well, only Kíli did and he didn't mean it in a bad way, but still... It stung sometimes.

Kíli let himself drop next to you, and you instinctively moved a couple inches away from him.
"Come on, don't be like that mimûna," he whined, swinging an arm around you and pulling you closer until your thighs touched.
You tried to wriggle out of his hold on you, but he kept a firm grip.

"Hey, quit it," he said. "I know why you're upset. Don't look at me like that, Y/N, you're easier to read than you think."
You glared at him, but kept your mouth shut.
He sighed. "It's okay to ask for help once in a while, you know. It doesn't mean you cannot handle things."
"I was doing just fine back there."
"Sure you were," he snickered, pointing at your mud covered face and clothes.
You shoved him off the tree trunk with a single push, earning some laughs from the others. You completely missed the knowing glances though.
Before Kíli could retaliate, a piercing howl sounded in the distance, startling some of you.

"Wargs!"
Kíli grabbed your hand and pulled you from the log. Everyone grabbed their weapons and hurried to form their battle kill circle. You stood between Fíli and Kíli, ready to fight but were quickly shoved in the inner circle with Bilbo. You listened for any signs of imminent danger, but the night remained eerily silent.