cleverindeed
matthewrsmithers
mirkwoodcaptaintauriel
thelonelytimetraveller
garrisonofthefallen
immortalcaptain-jack
unflinching-resolve
imyclawsarespears
hest-uin-tirith
replicanumberone
ask-duiel
arendelleheiress
avariciousright
daena-elffriend
Bilbo was glad today was a slow day. He knew he should be wanting to get to the mountain and everything but he had to enjoy the times things were slowed down and the trip to the mountain (that held a dragon that he was expected to sneak past, mind you) was delayed a little longer. He was honestly hoping to keep the trip as delayed as possible. As much as he wanted to see the company regain their home, he couldn't help but still dread the day he entered that mountain for the first time.
Today, fortunately, was going to be a day set aside for resting. They were near a deep stream that could easily be used for baths and had a nice clearing to themselves.
Bilbo pulled himself away from the group with pipe in hand to find a tree to slump by and smoke.
He had a few peaceful moments to himself, but of course (as always) that didn’t last as the sound of footsteps approaching him caused him to open his eyes. He pulled his pipe from his lips and raised an eyebrow, “Can I help you?”
