#dxrins

[qceenmother]

this meme; a gift for @dxrins

[sigrfridr]

@dxrins liked for a starter

“ Did you get enough soup? ” She asks the Dwarf, knowing full well that the thinned soup couldn’t be a very impressive meal. ( But she’s never cooked for fourteen unexpected guests before -- she’s never even had fourteen unexpected guests before -- and it’s done a number on her kitchen stores. A trip to the market will have to be made tomorrow. ) “ There’s a little more, if you need some. ”

[murkhith]

closed starter for @dxrins

The day of the tournament was a cloudy one, which meant that at least he was not going to suffer from a heat stroke on the field. Many dwarves would travel to Ered Luin for this sole purpose; to challenge each other in strength and create bonds between other nobles.

It was also the first year Kili participated in such an event.

Determined to make his family proud, he spent hours and hours training relentlessly from sunrise till sundown, practising against his brother, his uncle, anyone who would challenge him. 

But it was never enough.

 Kili yearned to be faster, to be stronger and make his mark in this world.

He wanted to be known throughout the lands.

Despite his young age, he had shown quite a lot of talent and improvement in fighting and the young dwarf was filled with adrenaline as he sized his opponents with calculating eyes. His dark hair was tied back to prevent them from obscuring his view, and he was aware of the crowd gathering around the field, chatting excitedly about the upcoming tournament.

Spotting his family within that crowd and more importantly, spotting Thorin up there on the alcove brought a grin on his face as he settled down and anxiously awaited for his turn.

[adunriel-blog]

( @dxrins​ cont. )

Annhiril stood STILL as Erebor’s HEIR was patching her up. She never WANTED to have someone take care of her- ESPECIALLY when she was wounded. She was lucky to ESCAPE the hoard of ORCS in the forest. However, one orc stabbed her DEEPLY in the calf of her leg... She winced in the PAIN as she looked at the dwarf.  

“You really did not have to DO this...” The RANGER continued, “But THANK you...”

[beautifulvictoryofthelake-blog]

@dxrins requested Lady Sigrid

She approached slowly, still unused to the new shoes that she wore as she returned home. A long overdue visit, both to Dale, and the Mountain. “Your Grace.” She greeted, a smile filling her face now as she curtsied to the King Under The Mountain. “You look well, although i assume Kili is no better behaved judging by the grey that has grown.” She shouldn’t tease, but she cannot help it. 

[oneinamillicn]

@dxrins wanted a thing from his sister :D

[↠] – “This is me, praying to Mahal that you didn’t actually say something that stupid.”

[murkhith]

@dxrins

   “Do shut up,” Thorin grumbles, his speech slurred.

          He’s stumbling around and making quite the fool of himself.           What is even more amusing is the effort he is putting into           looking sober, making sure to keep a straight, stiff back,           over-calculating each step he takes, keeping his lips firmly           sealed to stifle any ale-induced burps.           Now, Thorin is quite accident prone as he is, let alone with a           few – or, in this case, many – drinks in him. The last time he           had returned home from a Durin’s Day celebration, he had           tripped over and fallen a little too close to the hearth. And           beards tend to be flammable, you know.

                           “Will you ever let me forget that?”

“Nope,” Kili grinned perhaps a tad too brightly, amusement shining in his dark eyes as he watched his uncle take stiff steps, as if waiting for the moment Thorin would keel over once again.

“I don’t get to see you like this often, I have to relish the moment when it’s offered to me,” he added snickering, leaning against the wall lazily with his arms crossed against his chest. It was hilarious to see his normally stern uncle fumble around like this; Durin’s Day happened to be one of the rare days Thorin seemed to allow himself to relax and unwind for a chance.

“I hope you did not confuse the poor patriots again.”

[elesheir]

What comforts had she amidst brambles and brooks? Quite little, perhaps, or, no, none at all. They snagged on the skin and soaked to the bone, steeping the soul in burden and woe. How infuriating, these woodlands! She was royalty, and in Erebor, she’d not be made to walk such  filth. The path had grown muddied from rains of late spring, and thick now smelled the air of swift storm and rot. Here, orcs lingered. An eeriness grew. “It is rather unharmed that these forests shall leave you,” Aragorn offered once she neared his wayside camp, “though not so kind are those shadows within. I would make haste.”

@dxrins, she of the mountains.