#stingswielder

[captainxhaddock]

6, 8, and 11

6: Best memories from 2015?

((Meeting other people that helped revive my love for Tintin, for one (namely @eldritchbooky, who helped kickstart my love again enough for this blog to happen).))

8: Biggest surprise in 2015?

((The fact that I passed Statistics in college with a B! ouo… It’s cuz I really SUCK at math.))

11: What’s the strangest thing that happened to you in 2015?

((… Hmm… I can’t think of one off the top of my head. o.o”))

[wrongfuse-blog]

@stings-wielder is a cutie pie and you should all follow them.

[wanderingarcherviola]

stings-wielder has been spotted!

The Gundabad warg stopped and stared at the strange creature, too small to be a Man, not hairy enough to be a dwarf, not scrawny enough to be an Elf. Fluffy tilted his large head and let out a small whine. If Viola was with him she’d surely know.

Taking a cautious step closer he sniffed at the strange person, if he’d encountered a new race he surely wanted to get its scent.

[murkhith]

An early encounter

stings-wielder liked this post for a starter

The Shire was nothing like Kili had imagined it to be. Sure, the young prince had read about it from the books, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight of doors and windows in the large hills. Everywhere he looked there were tiny farms or gardens, accompanied with the beardless creatures Kili had learned were called hobbits. Instead of a beard, they had hair on top of their feet that were as important to them as beards were for dwarves.

At least that's what the book had said.

As a dwarf he was a bit taller than the hobbits, which amused the young brunette greatly as he was more used on being the shorter of the races. And the tiny hobbit children that ran past him were even tinier, their curls bouncing and cheeks rosy from laughing. It was nothing like in Ered Luin, where children were kept hidden in their homes until they were old and strong enough to be able to handle other childrens games. Dwarven mothers could be very protective, so seeing such small beings run around freely both interested and worried the dwarf.

Many curious looks were shot his way as Kili wandered through the market place, but once they had deemed him safe enough, they allowed him to move freely-- despite someone calling him filthy and covered in dirt to which he replied politely that traveling across the lands would leave anyone a tad filthier than usually.

He found a bench he could sit upon to eat his lunch, and it did not take long before the first curious hobbit children would start to circle around him, eventually ending up sitting by his feet while he told them about the town he had first started his travels from.

[captainxhaddock]

@stings-wielder: “Little Oddities”

@stings-wielder

Ah yes, the wonders of the countryside! With Tintin in Spain (something about the bull runs there or whatever), Haddock could finally get the leisurely time he desired, watching the birds fly by as he walked, hearing the cows moo in the distance, the fruit almost ripe as a little man jumped up to grab some-

... wait, what?

[lordofelves]

x: stings-wielder

Bilbo hadn’t heard Thranduil enter the rooms he was staying in in Mirkwood; even if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with what he was doing, he might not have noticed, for Elves had a similar sort of magic to Hobbits, where they could move with silence if they so wished.

He stood in front of his mirror, sniffling, hacking away at his copper curls with a small knife with no care for being for being gentle or even making his cuts even. He was shearing away at his hair with severity and frustration, but small sobs and gasps spoke to his true emotions.

It was good minute or two before he realised he wasn’t alone. He looked round, shrinking a little upon seeing Thranduil. For a moment, he didn’t speak, his breathing suddenly stopping, “I… I was going to clean it up after I was done,” he spoke quietly, the small knife still grasped in his hand, “Really I was.”

There were many things he still needed to know about Hobbits. They were possibly the only race in Middle Earth that he hadn’t read much about. As it was, most of his interactions with Bilbo had been new experiences. And only increased his curiosity about him and his kin. But Thranduil did know the importance of personal space, which was hwy he had given the hobbit his own room.

A rather large room given his size, but he hadn’t heard a complaint since then. He’d only just finished breakfast when he decided to see how Bilbo was doing, when he heard the unmistakable sounds of scissors snipping. Elves only cut their hair when it had grown very long (past their ankles), and since nobody had that long hair yet, he was a little confused. 

Which made the sight of BILBO being the one cutting his hair, and he stared at the other for a few more minutes until he was sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

           “And why have you decided to shear off your hair, Bilbo Baggins? It was in no need             for shortening.”

He moved further into the room, slowly, before extending his hand for the knife.

                    “Give me the knife. If you please.”

[arandinnu-blog]

flower crown

Send me “flower crown” and my Muse will react to yours plopping one on their head

     Eyes closed, Thranduil had been enjoying the sounds of the Shire. His fingers clasped lightly over his lap, he felt no need to be tense. This trip had proven just what he’d needed, even if their destination was a few days south, ultimately. The Shire Folk had seemed cautious at first, but the more they left him alone, the more Thranduil felt at ease. 

     There seemed to be one exception of course. And it came in the form of very tiny hands, and rather tiny furry feet climbing him to sit upon his chest and plop something upon his head. By the smell, he hazarded a guess of daisies, dandelions, and perhaps marigold. 

     “Master Bilbo,” Thranduil smiled, opening one eye to stare up at the child on his chest. “I’d wondered if you would pay me a visit this afternoon. And what have we here?”

[arandinnu-blog]

stings-wielder

Bilbo nodded, watching the king with some caution, wringing his hands together. He knew that it wasn’t a particularly grand gift; in fact, it was rather a strange gift to give to a king. But Bilbo’s reasoning had been that, firstly, he didn’t have any kingly gifts to give, and secondly, the king already probably had mounds of what constituted as ‘kingly gifts’. What would it matter to him if he received any more? A toy, especially a deer, might suit him better. At first, Bilbo had thought that he had made a mistake in giving him the present and he felt heat crawl up his neck, before he saw Thranduil’s face break into a smile, a smile that he hadn’t seen before. He was unused to seeing him so joyous; it made for a pleasant change. “You do?” the halfling asked, his eyes widened, a smile of his own appearing on his face. At the rest of his words, he smile grew fully into a grin and he clasped his hands together in delight, “I am so glad that you will! I hoped that you would like him!”

     Pleased, once more Thranduil stood straight and clasped his hands behind his back, the small stuffed deer still in them. Bilbo had always shown exquisite judgement-- or unusual judgement-- that was a debate that Thranduil was willing to set aside. His  dear friend had probably travelled a long way to deliver him such a gift, and he thought that the hobbit would no doubt be tired and hungry. 

     “I do, and I will keep him in my chambers upon my pillows,” he answered, having no shame in admitting he would rest with the stuffed animal in his grasp. It was perhaps a little bit unkingly, and more of a child’s wish, but Thranduil had drifted into dreaming while Legolas had left his toys behind. Surely there would be no harm in keeping one of his own. 

     “Will you join me for the evening meal? It would honor me to have you sit at my side.”