#abanul

[foryourhxme]

abanul replied to your post

no there are tomatoes everywhere!

don’t use that fertilizer i said! they’ll spread everywhere i said! but did you listen? no you did not! now we’RE OVERRUN BY TOMATOES

[breniarchive-blog]

          “It is not dispassion, Thorin ------ I simply do not understand the appeal.”

@abanul.

[fundinson]

for @abanul

The morning sun is sprawled across the horizon behind them like an egg slowly losing its centre; reds and yellows and oranges dipping the sky of an early day into a cast of unexpectedly warm colours. 

They stand in stark contrast with the white, damp cloud of mist that forms before their mouths, even as their bodies sweat from the exertion it takes to bring an entire caravan across the Misty Mountains. But here they stand, on the cusp of the last big summit and the promise of a better life, and before their eyes – the West. 

Dwalin tilts his head to the side, catches Thorin’s glance, and smiles. 

The losses it took to conquer that mountain range (old and brittle bones creaking, eventually breaking, under the weight of too much to carry; the young and sickly, too fragile yet to have been torn from the Mountain’s comforting womb; and all the souls, all the names they had left behind) turn this moment into a bittersweet eulogy for the Mountain herself. 

And yet there is life amongst them still; with the crisp scent of pine needles in their nostrils when they wake, with the nourishment that follows upon a successful hunt, with birth blood fresh on a midwife’s hands and a newborn squalling in the camp. There is life amongst them still, and its reflection is caught in blue eyes. 

“You really wanna do this?” 

Thorin nods.

“All th’ way over there…” The question is lost somewhere between Dwalin’s lips and his gaze meeting the horizon ahead. “’s almost to th’ sea.” 

“We won’t go right away. First we find a place to stop and recuperate down in yonder flatlands-” Thorin points to his left, where unknown to Dwalin a region named Dunland in the Common Tongue is spread out before their eyes. “-and then –– yes. Sometime, sooner or later, we will go west.” 

They look at each other again, determination a gleam across Thorin’s face, and a breath caught in Dwalin’s throat.

“And then-”

“East. East again.”

“Home.”

“Yes.”

Dwalin nods, then, slowly; and his hand comes around to grasp the forearm Thorin offered. 

“Home,” Thorin echoes, and turns to march into his – their – future.

[breniarchive-blog]

          It begins with a stillness on the air; dry heat, more lively than that which peeled forth from the braziers. An awakening many centuries forgotten. He feels it behind the shield of his breast, feels it rise into his throat --- and it ends with laughter, rich and warm and deeply precious.

@abanul.

[swxrdandshield-blog]

“ my mind is made up. ”

It took all of Fili’s self control not to roll   bright blue eyes at the statement.  So typical      of Thorin these days, wasn’t it?

“Are you certain?  This went poorly, last time.”

[breniarchive-blog]

          “This is remarkable; one evening spent sleeping on my side of the bed and you’re a whole new man. I’ve never seen you this ornery.”

@abanul | &

[breniarchive-blog]

4'10.5" or 6'2" either way u win *pats buns*

      come embarrass yourself.