Thorin II Oakenshield (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
honorbound_heir) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
middlemuses2016-06-06 04:28 pm
honorbound_heir) wrote in middlemuses2016-06-06 04:28 pm
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. ]
experting & honorbound_heirDATE: 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
He might've asked, for while he doesn't mistrust him, Bilbo's curiosity is often emphasized by that very unmanageable Tookish nature, but then the direction changes and they are back here again. Whether Legolas means to corner him or not, doesn't matter, because Bilbo feels it all the same. He's never fully understood the immense reluctance he feels every time the existence of his ring comes – indirectly – into question. Here, yes, it makes sense, because why divulge precious information to one who once imprisoned his friends, who has yet to completely prove himself friendly despite how pleasant his company has proven to be thus far? But he's felt this before. With Gandalf, with Thorin. There's that initial inhale of surprised, panicked breath and then he waits, mind reeling as he thinks of his ring and possible motives and all the reasons not to utter a word even though… why? Why does it matter? Why should it be secret from his friends?
Legolas isn't a friend though. And the thought darkens his mood, just a slight amount, just enough to have him shrinking closer to Patches as he looks down, to the side and then back down. Aside from that one mishap in Mirkwood when he'd briefly lost the ring, Bilbo has never again felt even a smidgen of that kind of violence and here is no different; there's no anger, there's no hissed breath or sharp lines to his expression. Instead, it's a nervousness. A hesitance. One that has him stalling and fluttering his fingers at the edge of his coat again before bumbling through a meager explanation. ] I… I'm small. [ He pauses and then braves a glance up. ] And all hobbits are light on their feet, when there's need to be.
[ He knows how impossible that sounds though. A kingdom full of keen-eyed elves and he'd scuttled by because he's small; bah. With clearer thoughts, he might have thought of generous amounts of wine and elves more interested in the sight of rowdy, imprisoned dwarves than possible trespassers, but for now, he merely shakes his head and offers a weak, unconvincing smile. ] It was a great deal more luck than skill, truthfully.