Finally got over my podficcing fatigue, so here, at least, is chapter 5 of the podfic of Comes Around Again. In this chapter, we learn that Bilbo is a safe bet, that the line of Durin does not have a monopoly on tragic backstories, and that trolls are ALWAYS unpleasant. Thanks as always to scarletjedi for letting me play with her toys.
Thorin Oakenshield slowly wakes to the sounds of Bilbo and his nephews softly talking, colder and heavier than he has ever been in his life, but before he can get a word out Bilbo is punching him square on the nose. Quite rightly, as it turns out, because he’s been dead for a week and has just sat up in his tomb with no warning whatsoever.
Following the aftermath of the Battle of the Five Armies where Thorin must fight with his own guilt and mind over his choices and what they mean and meant, where he must decide whether or not to rule, and how to live with himself after dying. Focusing on many different characters and relationships, as well as building on the lore of Erebor and Middle Earth. A story about coming home.
Bagginshield | Kíli/Tauriel | Gimli/Legolas | Thranduil/Elrond | Thranduil/Bard | And many more probably | Everyone lives au | Fix-It | Fake Marriage |Thorin in the Shire | Mental health |Angst |Pining |Fluff |Smut | And many many more tags to come as they happen most probably | Slow Build | Slow Burn | Happy ending | Diverse genders / sexualities / neurotypes | Lots of Angst | Loads of pining
Dáin chewed on the stem of his pipe, and looked down at the Halfling. Mr. Baggins fidgeted under his gaze, like he assumed Dáin was about to offer him a wry jab or the like. Give him yet another reason not to trust them.
An illustration from poplitealqueen‘s magnificent Of Iron, an AU where Dáin Ironfoot joins the Company. Read it! Her Dáin is brilliant, and every dwarf is given space to be their own character.
Not exactly what I would call a long peek, but for 500ish words it says quite a bit (I think, at least). Anywho, thought it might make someone happy somewhere.
This is also legit the least Dain involved bit I’ve written for this chapter, BUT I STILL LIKE IT.
uh, notes. Nadadith is khuzdul for little brother
Yrsa is the name I’ve given Bombur’s wife. Her full name is Yrsa daughter of Yrta, and she’s an architect much like Bombur (though she specializes more in repairing forges than general infrastructure, and she’s not half as good a cook!).
umm. If you’re thinking “is that Bifori? it is. I like that ship.
I am utterly thrilled to bring to you the first chapter of my new long project: a podfic of Comes Around Again, by the marvelous scarletjedi. This story is one of my very favorites, and is actually the one I have wanted to podfic literally since the first day I started podficcing. However, I needed to develop several skill sets before I could attempt this project, including differentiating a bunch of dwarves in one recording, composing music, and many other things. I am so very happy to be starting at last. Thank you a thousand times to scarletjedi for recording permission, and to poplitealqueen, who kindly agreed to let me use her cover art.
I can make no guarantees as to how often this podfic is going to update. Each chapter is close to the longest thing I have ever recorded in one sitting, and there are other technical considerations that are going to make this one slower to produce than some other projects, but I can promise that I will podfic the entirety of the story eventually.
Quick 1k Dáin Ironfoot drabble, inspired by @asparklethatisblue‘s fabulous artwork.
TW for anxiety, mention of death, nightmares and monsters of the mind.
Sometimes, he feels his entire life is haunted, ever since he has looked into the abyss of Khazad-Dûm and seen the shadows of flame and darkness in the deep. When he tries to puzzle out his memories from Azanulbizar, he fails. It is nothing but a giant blur in his mind, a swirling maelstrom of death, iron, blood and pain, both physical and emotional. There is only two moment he remembers with the clarity of the haunted. One of them is his father falling in front of his eyes, blood bubbling over his lips and his life fleeing him faster than Dáin can shout his name.
Aw Yiss 