bilbo baggins (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
experting) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
middlemuses2016-04-25 12:48 pm
experting) wrote in middlemuses2016-04-25 12:48 pm
Entry tags:
Never thought you'd make it this far
CHARACTERS: experting & honorbound_heir
DATE: August 25th (just makin' up things as I go)
WHERE: Trollshaws
SUMMARY: So. Last time, when they'd definitely been on a death defying quest, no one taught him a thing about weaponry and handling. Now that they're on a, more or less, easy travel, Thorin has deemed it appropriate that Bilbo be taught how to use a bow. This might be partly Bilbo's fault. He did bring up swordplay back in the Shire. Does that mean he hadn't done particularly well with Sting during their quick lesson if Thorin is now pushing a bow on him? Hmph.
WARNING(S): Bilbo might accidentally maim someone. Okay no. Maybe? Nah.
[ They've made good time. Or that's what Bilbo's heard. By his own tracking, they're behind what they set last time he came this way, but with more dwarves to worry about, more ponies to keep track of and the slew of items they're dragging about to resettle in Erebor with, it's to be expected that they aren't as swift as a mere fifteen. Nonetheless, the weather has been kinder and they've yet to travel through rain and mud. Bilbo greatly hopes that they will not be enduring that as before; even with those experiences, he's neglected to pack anything worthy of keeping him dry in such an event. Though, with the amount of blankets he found dumped by his pack some nights ago, the sheer thickness of all of them together would surely keep the wet from seeping through, at least for a few minutes. He still wonders about that. Not about who made certain he had more than enough blankets, it's quite obvious which dwarf would have reason to do that. Yes reason. Crawling into Thorin's bedroll – a second time, heh – had been particularly bold and while the following morning hadn't been entirely unpleasant, it does make sense that ways would be found to ensure a third instance would not be necessary.
Not that he wants... —best to leave that all alone. But speaking of Thorin...
They've stopped early today. Judging by the light of the day, it's perhaps two or three hours earlier than their usual dawn to dusk ride. Without the countdown of Durin's Day hanging over their heads, breaking camp for a more relaxed evening isn't exactly detrimental to their travel, although Bilbo's still somewhat surprised when the announcement filters through the group; surprised, yet relieved as well. Just under two weeks in, the excess of riding and long hours of sitting upright don't pain him as they had in the beginning days, however, he is not without his aches and he feels instantly better whenever he can get the familiar mix of dirt and grass beneath his feet once more.
The plans build in his head quickly after that. Bilbo still hasn't thought too much about bringing his pony toward the front of the group and instead, has continued to keep close to the middle, usually close-by to Bofur in particular. So as he often does, he goes through the routine of unloading his pack and dumping it next to Bofur's, ignoring the amused roll of the eyes it earns him. Yes yes, they both know it won't be staying there. There's a process to it and Bilbo merely needs to wait. Thorin always chooses the spot and Bilbo simply has to keep watch until he does so, and once he spies Thorin's pack all alone, usually a good distance from the group, Bilbo shoulders his and goes to plop it alongside to be dealt with later.
There's plenty of time before that though.
First there's the ponies to deal with and he helps, or tries to, but his small – weaker – stature isn't well suited for removing saddles and the like. In the end, Bofur handles the workload of Bilbo's pony, as well as his own. It's awhile yet before Bofur returns from securing their ponies with the rest, a lapse in which Bilbo ponders what usefulness he can find. Bombur has his staff of helpers, although it might still be the tiniest bit early to start cooking, even if everyone is no doubt hungry. He could brush down the ponies; his nose is already twitching at the thought of horse hair and dust filling the air though. Er. Firewood? He can at least gather that.
In the end, the decision is made for him.
It's not immediate, and actually, he's been sitting with Bofur for a few minutes when there's suddenly a presence to the side and a shadow over him and he looks up to find... Thorin? That's how they end up here.
The muffled sound of camp is easily within earshot, though they're far enough that individual words and voices are indistinguishable. Probably for the best, because if Bilbo can't hear what they're talking about, they can't hear them either, and really, Bilbo is glad there's no other witnesses to this. They're in a small clearing, with a burlap sack propped against the base of a tree a good distance away. Bilbo isn't entirely sure where Thorin got that, though it had probably been filled with food at one point and now, well, now it's filled with brush, and it's meant to be Bilbo's target so that he doesn't utterly destroy the arrows. Yes, arrows. Apparently Thorin's decided that Bilbo will be well suited for a bow. It does make him wonder why they've jumped to a bow, rather than continue where they left off with Sting, but aside from giving Thorin a peculiar look and a raise of his eyebrows, Bilbo hadn't put up much of a fuss.
At least not until now.
Now, which has to be at least an hour or so into this lesson, Bilbo's arms hurt and he feels no better than he had when this first all began. The problem isn't his aim. His aim is remarkably good in the way he first levels the bow and the point of the arrow. The hitch comes in the strain of his muscles. Bilbo hardly knows the meaning of labor; aside from the quest, he's never had to work his body to exhaustion, or even into any real sweat. The stretch burns, especially when he tries to hold it for any amount of time... like now. Left outstretched and firmly holding the bow with his right cocked back, fingers pulling the string taunt, he adjusts the aim, stalling, waiting, reevaluating, and then, his fingers waver, a faint spasm in his arm disrupting the placement just so. He lets go but the arrow has already shifted and dislodged, the whole of it tipping to the side even as the string snaps forward. In the end, it merely falls to the ground at Bilbo's feet.
… Hm.
Staring down at it for an embarrassingly long moment, Bilbo then trails his gaze behind him and to Thorin. Expression blank for that first beat, it then abruptly tightens into a frown and then he's grumbling as he ducks down to snatch that arrow up, glaring at it even as he tries to loosely realign it with the bow. ] Is this truly necessary?
experting & honorbound_heirDATE: August 25th (just makin' up things as I go)
WHERE: Trollshaws
SUMMARY: So. Last time, when they'd definitely been on a death defying quest, no one taught him a thing about weaponry and handling. Now that they're on a, more or less, easy travel, Thorin has deemed it appropriate that Bilbo be taught how to use a bow. This might be partly Bilbo's fault. He did bring up swordplay back in the Shire. Does that mean he hadn't done particularly well with Sting during their quick lesson if Thorin is now pushing a bow on him? Hmph.
WARNING(S): Bilbo might accidentally maim someone. Okay no. Maybe? Nah.
[ They've made good time. Or that's what Bilbo's heard. By his own tracking, they're behind what they set last time he came this way, but with more dwarves to worry about, more ponies to keep track of and the slew of items they're dragging about to resettle in Erebor with, it's to be expected that they aren't as swift as a mere fifteen. Nonetheless, the weather has been kinder and they've yet to travel through rain and mud. Bilbo greatly hopes that they will not be enduring that as before; even with those experiences, he's neglected to pack anything worthy of keeping him dry in such an event. Though, with the amount of blankets he found dumped by his pack some nights ago, the sheer thickness of all of them together would surely keep the wet from seeping through, at least for a few minutes. He still wonders about that. Not about who made certain he had more than enough blankets, it's quite obvious which dwarf would have reason to do that. Yes reason. Crawling into Thorin's bedroll – a second time, heh – had been particularly bold and while the following morning hadn't been entirely unpleasant, it does make sense that ways would be found to ensure a third instance would not be necessary.
Not that he wants... —best to leave that all alone. But speaking of Thorin...
They've stopped early today. Judging by the light of the day, it's perhaps two or three hours earlier than their usual dawn to dusk ride. Without the countdown of Durin's Day hanging over their heads, breaking camp for a more relaxed evening isn't exactly detrimental to their travel, although Bilbo's still somewhat surprised when the announcement filters through the group; surprised, yet relieved as well. Just under two weeks in, the excess of riding and long hours of sitting upright don't pain him as they had in the beginning days, however, he is not without his aches and he feels instantly better whenever he can get the familiar mix of dirt and grass beneath his feet once more.
The plans build in his head quickly after that. Bilbo still hasn't thought too much about bringing his pony toward the front of the group and instead, has continued to keep close to the middle, usually close-by to Bofur in particular. So as he often does, he goes through the routine of unloading his pack and dumping it next to Bofur's, ignoring the amused roll of the eyes it earns him. Yes yes, they both know it won't be staying there. There's a process to it and Bilbo merely needs to wait. Thorin always chooses the spot and Bilbo simply has to keep watch until he does so, and once he spies Thorin's pack all alone, usually a good distance from the group, Bilbo shoulders his and goes to plop it alongside to be dealt with later.
There's plenty of time before that though.
First there's the ponies to deal with and he helps, or tries to, but his small – weaker – stature isn't well suited for removing saddles and the like. In the end, Bofur handles the workload of Bilbo's pony, as well as his own. It's awhile yet before Bofur returns from securing their ponies with the rest, a lapse in which Bilbo ponders what usefulness he can find. Bombur has his staff of helpers, although it might still be the tiniest bit early to start cooking, even if everyone is no doubt hungry. He could brush down the ponies; his nose is already twitching at the thought of horse hair and dust filling the air though. Er. Firewood? He can at least gather that.
In the end, the decision is made for him.
It's not immediate, and actually, he's been sitting with Bofur for a few minutes when there's suddenly a presence to the side and a shadow over him and he looks up to find... Thorin? That's how they end up here.
The muffled sound of camp is easily within earshot, though they're far enough that individual words and voices are indistinguishable. Probably for the best, because if Bilbo can't hear what they're talking about, they can't hear them either, and really, Bilbo is glad there's no other witnesses to this. They're in a small clearing, with a burlap sack propped against the base of a tree a good distance away. Bilbo isn't entirely sure where Thorin got that, though it had probably been filled with food at one point and now, well, now it's filled with brush, and it's meant to be Bilbo's target so that he doesn't utterly destroy the arrows. Yes, arrows. Apparently Thorin's decided that Bilbo will be well suited for a bow. It does make him wonder why they've jumped to a bow, rather than continue where they left off with Sting, but aside from giving Thorin a peculiar look and a raise of his eyebrows, Bilbo hadn't put up much of a fuss.
At least not until now.
Now, which has to be at least an hour or so into this lesson, Bilbo's arms hurt and he feels no better than he had when this first all began. The problem isn't his aim. His aim is remarkably good in the way he first levels the bow and the point of the arrow. The hitch comes in the strain of his muscles. Bilbo hardly knows the meaning of labor; aside from the quest, he's never had to work his body to exhaustion, or even into any real sweat. The stretch burns, especially when he tries to hold it for any amount of time... like now. Left outstretched and firmly holding the bow with his right cocked back, fingers pulling the string taunt, he adjusts the aim, stalling, waiting, reevaluating, and then, his fingers waver, a faint spasm in his arm disrupting the placement just so. He lets go but the arrow has already shifted and dislodged, the whole of it tipping to the side even as the string snaps forward. In the end, it merely falls to the ground at Bilbo's feet.
… Hm.
Staring down at it for an embarrassingly long moment, Bilbo then trails his gaze behind him and to Thorin. Expression blank for that first beat, it then abruptly tightens into a frown and then he's grumbling as he ducks down to snatch that arrow up, glaring at it even as he tries to loosely realign it with the bow. ] Is this truly necessary?