Thorin II Oakenshield (
honorbound_heir) wrote in
middlemuses2016-06-06 04:28 pm
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Entry tags:
When you come out of the storm
CHARACTERS:
experting &
honorbound_heir
DATE: Around September 14th
WHERE: On the edge of Mirkwood, near the Old Forest Road
SUMMARY: The dwarves have made it to the last major obstacle on their road to Erebor - Mirkwood. Unlike on Thorin's quest to reclaim the mountain, however, this time they're not to be left to blunder through on their own. A very uneasy agreement with the elves was struck, and part of it was mutual safe passage through each others' lands. Here, too, the group is to split up - with the majority going straight through, but Thorin has other plans.
WARNING(S): Do elves warrant a warning? Thorin would say so. But probably not.
[ It's no secret that Thorin has no love for elves, and perhaps even less so for their cursed forest that ever seems to stand between him and wherever he needs to go. He remembers the days of his youth when it was called Greenwood the Great, back when they were true allies with the Silvan elves that lived there, and is told that it has changed much since then. It's of little matter to him. Even though they are not enemies, as long as Thranduil remained their King, there would be no chance of resumed camaraderie as there had been in times past. They had mutual enemies now, and that was more or less as far as it went. The fact that Thranduil's son seems to have some sense of honor, and isn't a consummate coward like his father, is at least convenient when he has to speak to an elf.
He knew that the conversation with Bilbo wasn't going to be easy. Or pleasant. He is aware that he's going into what was not so very long ago a veritable stronghold of evil, a place so thoroughly corrupted that nothing green grows within miles of it. Gandalf told him that Necromancer had been banished, but an ill shadow still lingered over that place, one deeper even than the one that clouded the surrounding forest. That said, he suspected that things would once again begin to creep back in. It was all part of a slow, troubling turn of events that had been set into motion many, many years ago.
The point was, if Thorin was going to go, he needed to do it now. He didn't hold out much hope for finding his father alive - somehow, when Gandalf told him this time that his father was dead, it rang true in a way that it had not before. Even the vindication Thorin felt at being right, despite being the only one that still had faith, was little comfort when faced with the knowledge that he had been so close, and yet so far away, still. All this time, he had been so close...
This is about family, and there's no way around it.
There hadn't been any doubt as to whether or not the Company would come with him. His sister would stay with the rest of the group, and he trusted her to see their way through, perhaps all the way to Erebor should Thorin and the others not manage to catch up with them. While she's not pleased with this arrangement, she also understands, and is aware that trying to argue with her brother on this is an exercise in utter futility.
Thorin never doubted for a moment that Bilbo would insist to come with him. He would have preferred that Bilbo stay with the others, but Thorin has too much respect for him to dare make such a suggestion. Would he even listen if Thorin did try to order him to go anywhere? He's not certain, but that is very much a moot point here.
Instead he relays his intentions to Bilbo with a steady voice, and an almost defiant tilt to his jaw, his pony's reins grasped firmly in one hand as he flicks a glance behind Bilbo and to the edge of the forest just beyond him. There had been no set meeting time here, but he knew that the elves would be looking for them, as they were the last time they came through. It probably wouldn't take long before they reappeared - no doubt generally looking just as displeased with this arrangement as Thorin currently does. ]
As soon as our escort arrives, we leave. The others will stay here and make camp for the night.
[ The fact that he's forced to wait around on an elf still irritates him to no end, but he knows that it's the only reasonable thing to do here. ]
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DATE: Around September 14th
WHERE: On the edge of Mirkwood, near the Old Forest Road
SUMMARY: The dwarves have made it to the last major obstacle on their road to Erebor - Mirkwood. Unlike on Thorin's quest to reclaim the mountain, however, this time they're not to be left to blunder through on their own. A very uneasy agreement with the elves was struck, and part of it was mutual safe passage through each others' lands. Here, too, the group is to split up - with the majority going straight through, but Thorin has other plans.
WARNING(S): Do elves warrant a warning? Thorin would say so. But probably not.
[ It's no secret that Thorin has no love for elves, and perhaps even less so for their cursed forest that ever seems to stand between him and wherever he needs to go. He remembers the days of his youth when it was called Greenwood the Great, back when they were true allies with the Silvan elves that lived there, and is told that it has changed much since then. It's of little matter to him. Even though they are not enemies, as long as Thranduil remained their King, there would be no chance of resumed camaraderie as there had been in times past. They had mutual enemies now, and that was more or less as far as it went. The fact that Thranduil's son seems to have some sense of honor, and isn't a consummate coward like his father, is at least convenient when he has to speak to an elf.
He knew that the conversation with Bilbo wasn't going to be easy. Or pleasant. He is aware that he's going into what was not so very long ago a veritable stronghold of evil, a place so thoroughly corrupted that nothing green grows within miles of it. Gandalf told him that Necromancer had been banished, but an ill shadow still lingered over that place, one deeper even than the one that clouded the surrounding forest. That said, he suspected that things would once again begin to creep back in. It was all part of a slow, troubling turn of events that had been set into motion many, many years ago.
The point was, if Thorin was going to go, he needed to do it now. He didn't hold out much hope for finding his father alive - somehow, when Gandalf told him this time that his father was dead, it rang true in a way that it had not before. Even the vindication Thorin felt at being right, despite being the only one that still had faith, was little comfort when faced with the knowledge that he had been so close, and yet so far away, still. All this time, he had been so close...
This is about family, and there's no way around it.
There hadn't been any doubt as to whether or not the Company would come with him. His sister would stay with the rest of the group, and he trusted her to see their way through, perhaps all the way to Erebor should Thorin and the others not manage to catch up with them. While she's not pleased with this arrangement, she also understands, and is aware that trying to argue with her brother on this is an exercise in utter futility.
Thorin never doubted for a moment that Bilbo would insist to come with him. He would have preferred that Bilbo stay with the others, but Thorin has too much respect for him to dare make such a suggestion. Would he even listen if Thorin did try to order him to go anywhere? He's not certain, but that is very much a moot point here.
Instead he relays his intentions to Bilbo with a steady voice, and an almost defiant tilt to his jaw, his pony's reins grasped firmly in one hand as he flicks a glance behind Bilbo and to the edge of the forest just beyond him. There had been no set meeting time here, but he knew that the elves would be looking for them, as they were the last time they came through. It probably wouldn't take long before they reappeared - no doubt generally looking just as displeased with this arrangement as Thorin currently does. ]
As soon as our escort arrives, we leave. The others will stay here and make camp for the night.
[ The fact that he's forced to wait around on an elf still irritates him to no end, but he knows that it's the only reasonable thing to do here. ]
no subject
… Of course, the pleasantness of such thoughts is immediately trampled over with a few words. Dol Goldur. Yes, about that. It sounds just as unwelcoming as the first time. Not that he'd been hoping for some optimism on Legolas' part but… Thorin isn't exactly known for uplifting encouragements and rather, is much more accustomed to blunt, sometimes jarring honesty. So basically, they are, in fact, willingly walking right into a possible deathtrap. Fantastic. Well, to be fair, that's not unusual; not when he once decided to traverse halfway across the continent to bumble about in a dragon's lair.
Why has he left his sweet, safe Shire again?
The answer is simple, really and almost too frustrating to even think about. Yes yes, he knows why he found himself running out his door again but now is not the time to be thinking about throttle-worthy dwarves by the name of Thorin Oakenshield. Except, maybe it is, because there's a switch in tone and with the joke, Bilbo's lips part for a beat of surprise. Ah yes, about that too. His grip tightens on the reins and his other clings at the edge of his coat – the lighter, much more hobbit one, thank you – briefly thinking, just for a moment, of his ring but then there's a beat and he wrinkles his nose, his expression unfurling into something close to indignant. ] If I could teach them? Ha! Believe me, I have tried. [ A short shake of his head and then his shoulders roll back and his chin tips up. Swift, maybe that can be worked on, but silent? ] Especially with those severely lacking manners of theirs.
[ Are dwarves even capable of being quiet for more than a handful of minutes at a time? During travel, there's always thrown jabs, improper jokes, sometimes even a song. At mealtime, always a ruckus of abused plate-ware and loud conversation with mouths full of food. Even when asleep, some make more noise than when they're awake! Hmph, bothersome. So very bothersome. He sniffs, the sound harsh and haughty. ] I think leaving behind a horrid, loud, rude mess is part of being a dwarf. [ During this, he's glanced back toward the dwarves and even with the words, his voice has lightened with them, becoming something closer to fond by the end. Such insults toward his friends rarely hold true disapproval, not like they had in the beginning… but then, of course, he realizes that he's been saying such things to Legolas and he whips his gaze back around. Ah, right. A frown then, one that holds a touch of warning to it, even though he's the one who's said such things. ] Which is, actually, not quite so horrible, really. [ Not when one gets to know them. ]