{ @j0j0s-journey }
‘thank you, jo.’ manette scribbled on a napkin, bringing the teacup to her lips. sadness radiated from her when she was alone. it was like an endless spout as she ran her hand around the rim of the cup.

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Maldives
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from Russia

seen from Poland
seen from Russia
seen from Poland

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom

seen from South Africa

seen from United States

seen from Türkiye

seen from Türkiye
{ @j0j0s-journey }
‘thank you, jo.’ manette scribbled on a napkin, bringing the teacup to her lips. sadness radiated from her when she was alone. it was like an endless spout as she ran her hand around the rim of the cup.
♕ A bond most unlikely
;Master Baggins
They had been resting their weary limbs at Beorn's charmingly rustic keep for a day, and the dwarves had finally enjoyed a variety of proper meals and some rare time to take care of long needed grooming; presently, they were merrily bathing in the crystalline waters of the Anduin, not too far from the Carrock where they had longingly admired Erebor's solitary silhouette from. It wasn't the quest for the Lonely Mountain, however, that consumed Thorin Oakenshield's thoughts for once, that kept him brooding at a distance from the others as they made merry and basked in the last golden rays of summer, his presence in such occasions always glaringly lacking; it was what had transpired in the aftermath of the Defiler's ambush, the unexpected and decisive bravery shown by one he had not believed capable of it, and who had not been given any good reason to do so. And yet he was alive because of him. Bilbo had not joined the others yet, off somewhere with Gandalf or Beorn himself, he expected; it didn't surprise him, for the hobbit was often left perplexed by dwarven enthusiasm, and at times seemed to share Thorin's own preference for a more somber disposition. Hidden from prying eyes as he sat underneath the shade of a majestic oak tree, the proud dwarf conceded himself a tiny sigh and rested his forehead against the palm of his hand, defeated by the overpowering confusion of his jumbled, amassed thoughts. Shameful guilt and gratitude alike had settled heavily on his chest and spread their tendrils to his mind, filling it with unpleasant memories of his mistreatment and prejudice of the hobbit. It was pride that raised him from that whirlpool, eventually, and compelled him to shut out such feelings. For now he had to focus on reclaiming the lost kingdom and bringing his company home, upholding his role of undisputed leader, and showing Master Baggins the respect and regard he deserved. There would be time for heart-felt apologies and profuse amends later.