dragon slayer

indie Bard || private || selective

[ofgirion]

₪

Send me a ₪ for how my muse would wake yours up!

          Normally such a light sleeper, it came as quite the shock that Valin’s presence had not stirred him. Still the great heathen slept soundly in the normally unoccupied half of his bed, and he freed his arm from beneath her neck without much resistance. 

(he did take that opportunity to pull the covers higher around her shoulders. even if she did not understand modesty, he did.)

          From there, with a yawn and a tired rub of his eyes, the bargeman rose. In lieu of a careful awakening he might have used before, Bard simply tossed his pillow at Valin’s sleeping form. “If you want breakfast, you ought to wake up.”

[ofgirion]

strenuum liked for a starter

          The people of Dale would claim that the two ranked equally, both called kings by their people. Yet when the bowman stood face to face with the elvenking, tall and majestic and glimmering like a mirage in the sun, the similarities between them seemed few and far between. 

          “Lord Thranduil." king or not, Bard’s head dipped briefly in reverence, “I had not expected you here! What might you need from us?”

[ofgirion]

skyshattering liked for a starter

          “I realize that you are a fair amount stronger and more durable than the Men of these lands, but surely you still need to rest.” concern colored the father’s words, bringing a hand to the daughter of Skyrim’s arm. “Take a break, lass, please. Let me get you something to eat.”

[ofgirion]

scalebreaking:

“Unless I decide to eat outside. Then I could jump in the lake and keep it out of your house.”

          “But you will do no such thing. You will eat inside with us. The children will be disappointed if you do not tell them a story of one of your adventures. And we do make such fine company, do we not?”

[ofgirion]

like this for a starter/if you are a huge nerd 

[ofgirion]

₪ digs thru ur blog to send u memes

Send me a ₪ for how my muse would wake yours up!

          Looking upon the sleeping Nord--a sight that became more familiar as time went on, Bard could only hope that Elyon took more kindly to being woken than her friend. A gentle hand clasped upon her shoulder, jostling no more than necessary. 

          “I am sorry to wake you, lass. You should turn in for the night if you are so tired that you’d fall asleep at my table, though.” 

[ofgirion]

scalebreaking:

“Why not? Jumping in the lake gets me clean enough for supper a lot faster than a bowl of water and a rag does.”

          “It will also leave you a great deal wetter than a bowl of water and a rag, and I would just as soon leave as much of the lake outside this house as possible.”

[amazingwilderness]

Lost Lake by Owen Perry ©

[promisestoned]

➸ ❛ & bard the bowman • ofgirion ; ❜ send me a ☮ for a graphic of your muse’s aesthetic

[ofgirion]

scalebreaking

          “You are welcome to stay for supper, but you will have to wash up first--and I do not mean jumping into the lake.”

[sonofthearrow-deactivated201710]

*Cheeky grin* “Hey Da!” 

[ofgirion]

          “You are too young to be using such foul language. What if Tilda heard, and started saying such things?”

[sonofthearrow-deactivated201710]

“You say Im a kid, that my ego is big, I do not give a shit.”

[ofgirion]

Unimpressed father noises.

[telcxntar-a]

                           “Far and wide and usually embellished, but                                yours is a tale that needs no lies to make                                it more interesting.” 

                The offer brought about a scarce smile;                         in truth the ranger looked relieved. He                       hitched his pack up on his shoulder,                        some tension easing out of him. 

                           “Not as of yet.  But you are right. It has been                                been a long road.   I would appreciate the                                 help.” 

[ofgirion]

          “You’d best follow me, then.” tactile soul that Bard was, a rough-skinned hand clapped upon the young stranger’s shoulder, guiding him along for only a moment before it fell. Though the city’s efforts to rebuild were still newborn, clear progress could be seen throughout the streets. Rubble cleared away leaving even ground beneath their feet, smoke from fires and even chimneys coming from more intact structures. 

          “We do not have much by means of an inn, but we make do well enough. You are welcome to have a meal with my children and I, if you’re hungry.”

[ofgirion]

₪

Send me a ₪ for how my muse would wake yours up!

          Though reluctant to pull the tired young woman from her rest, surely she would be far more comfortable somewhere other than leaning over a table. Careful hands held both of her shoulders, a gentle squeeze intended to stir her. “Sigrid,” whispered voice rumbled close to a daughter’s ear, “my darling, let’s get you to bed, hm? Else I may have to carry you, like when you were little.”

[foryourhxme]

“Yes, I suppose—…I suppose that’s true.” Chief among them being thirteen dwarves having barricaded themselves inside Erebor, no doubt. 

The man’s sudden spark of humor stole a startled laugh out of him, and for a moment, Bilbo forgot what awaited them the next day. “Must be a hobbit thing, then.” He smiled impishly, and shrugged, “We’re rather good at escaping notice.”

[ofgirion]

          “I could not say to the contrary, as you are the only hobbit I’ve met. This far to the east, there is little to be found that resembles the Shire--from what I’ve heard.” though the former bargeman had never wandered farther from Esgaroth than the ground he stood upon, small town folk did love their stories and gossip. 

“I cannot say I blame any of you for not wanting to leave--I doubt I would either.” 

[noblestoned-blog]

“You thank us now, but you may curse us later. When she is asking you to wind her new toy for the hundredth time.” It’s a teasing remark, made with a grin on his face. While Tilda may be the first child of men to play with these new toys, Fili and Kili had already had their fun with others made like them. “Your children have won the hearts of toymakers. No doubt there will be gifts for all of them crafted by their hand soon enough.”

[ofgirion]

          “I would endure it happily, however many times she asks. In fact, I do not think she has ever owned a toy that could weather being wound one hundred times.” though he spoke in good humor, there was a twinge of shame deep within his chest. His children deserved so much better. 

          “There is something to be said for their talent in winning hearts, though between us...” with amusement did the bowman’s tone lower, as though sharing a secret, “Tilda has become quite enamored of the playmates she’s found in you and Kíli, as well.”

[sigrfridr-archive]

His reminders were things that she already knew, but Sigrid simply nodded in understanding, with a reassuring, “I will, Da, do not worry.”  He would still worry, she knew (it was nearly as impossible to lessen her worry as it was for anyone to lessen Sigrid’s own worry where her family was concerned).  

Still, she was unlikely to ask for help. Except perhaps…A wry little smile tugged a corner of her mouth, “Well, if you would like to finish boning the fish…?” Her brother had earlier reminded her that finishing the task with a wounded hand would be unwise.  “Bain said he would after going to the market, but hasn’t returned yet.”

[ofgirion]

          “That, I will do happily.” For a daughter who worked tirelessly without complaint, for a smile that warmed his heart on the coldest of days, there was truly little Bard would not do. Half-gloved hand offered a brief gesture of affection in cupping Sigrid’s shoulder, a moment’s reassurance. 

          Work-worn boots trod across the old wooden floors of their home, familiar in the creaking boards beneath their soles. The half-boned fish remained in its place upon the kitchen table, yet its knife went unseen. After a brief glance about the area did Bard turn to his daughter, a glimmer of humor in his eyes. “Just where is the wretched knife that spilled my daughter’s blood?”