#orcristwielder

[heartsdefine]

@orcristwielder — frodo starter call / accepting!

        "What if the result of this war isn’t beyond the horror?" Frodo pulls his drink closer on the tabletop. "What if it is the horror itself?"

[askrossiel]

[Continued from here for @orcristwielder]

Slowly, she puzzled her way out of the visions that had clouded her half-sleep, rubbing at her eyes as though that would help clear them faster. "Nothing will hurt me," Rossiel repeated dutifully, if shakily at first. "These... these are not Dourhands," she reminded herself. "Skorgrím is dead. These are Elf-friends, and their king a fellow musician. I have only had a little fright in my waking-rest that will go away soon."

[undeadunalive]

continued from x

“I agree, though... I suppose it largely depends upon the collective.” The Ekon was quick to interject, never really finding himself in one or another. Even when he’d first been reborn as the creature he was now, it had seemed as though everyone had been against him, humans, Skals, Vulkods, fellow Ekons, the world itself -- - so where that did place him? What people did he belong to? Anyone? Or was it more than that? He walked between factions to keep people safe, regardless of who they were, how much they carried in their wallets or the tales that followed their every step.

“I gather you have your own stories to tell, as well as many about you, I imagine.” Maybe he was pushing his luck, but was there ever an end to Jonathan’s curiosity? So far, it didn’t seem so. “Tell me about yourself.” He began, still carefully pushing as he sought a clump of stone to perch himself on, keen on settling on a more -- - equal level, rather than towering over the other man. “You seem so... sad, Sir, so guarded. It lends me to believe that something has happened, something or... someone, was taken away from you. You lost something... what would that be? If... you don’t mind my asking.”

@orcristwielder​

[adragonrider]

@orcristwielder continued

The fight had been sudden, and as quickly as it happened it ended. Eilonwy helped Thorin to his feet carefully, mentally assessing for any major injuries. She was a pretty young woman, auburn hair with bright blue eyes and freckles that peppered across her nose. She had sheathed the sword back into its holder, though it was strange for a woman to be alone, to fight alone.

She didn't hide the mark upon her palm, the mark of the rider evident to those who knew of the legends. "There we go" She mused softly, giving the dwarf a kind smile. "Were you with anyone?" She asked, it seemed as though he was alone, though whether that was intentional Eilonwy didn't know. Groups did get parted in these sorts of things after all.

[adventures-written]

;; Plotted starter for @orcristwielder

The notorious Smaug had struck again. This time in the Tower of London, taking the Crown Jewels themselves. How the man had swooped in almost entirely unnoticed was a question in itself. The only reason anyone had known the thievery was happening was because of some poor sod just doing his job, had caught Smaug while he was making his way out. Needless to say, it did not end well for the guard and the gunshot drew the attention of many.

Before anyone came to the scene, however, Smaug was long gone, as were the jewels, and his signature red dragon calling card was left on the victim.

Bilbo could already feel the migraine kicking in from a lack of sleep. He had been woken up just after the incident had happened, called into headquarters to be debriefed on the situation. Gandalf seemed insistent that he hurry, and the moment he heard the tone of voice from his superior, he knew it was quite serious. Of course, details could not be discussed over the phone. It was an insecure line.

Although a little reluctant, Bilbo crawled himself out of bed and got dressed. As much as he would have preferred to shower before going in, there simply was no time for that. He was groggy and clutching his traveler of fresh tea a little tightly as he headed out the door.

It was concerning how frantic everyone was when he arrived at HQ. He could not remember when this place had been so lively. He observed people running about, barking orders and trying to still hold their composure. Bilbo sipped his tea as he walked, heading for the far room at the end of the hall where he knew Gandalf would be waiting for him.

“What is it this time?” Bilbo asked, “A spy break his cover? Did one of the Royals slip in the show? Why can’t the emergencies occur during the day?” His tone was jokingly sarcastic, though the look he got from Gandalf spoke volumes. Bilbo took a sip of his tea to bite back anymore comments he wanted to make. “Worse, I’m afraid, Mr. Baggins,” Gandalf spoke up, sliding a document across the table. Bilbo looked down at the file and saw the name. Without another moment of hesitation, he opened the document and started to sift through the files. 

“How did he get in?” Bilbo asked, “How did no one see him?!” “That is a question we are currently trying to answer ourselves,” Gandalf sighed, “But, we do know he was seen heading on a flight destined to America. Where he is going from there, we are unsure. We don’t even know where he is landing...” Bilbo looked puzzled as he stared at the files, placing a hand under his chin as he stared at the blurred image from a security camera of Smaug. He was trying to think of all the places one could go with the Crown Jewels. Did he take them with him to America? Did he hand them off before fleeing? And why America?

“So we will have to seek aid from the American’s -- have we already been in contact with a branch of national security?” Bilbo asked, finally looking back at Gandalf again. “Actually...” Gandalf’s look almost fell playful, “I have already been in contact with someone. He was here in London on some...family business.” “And who might that be?” Bilbo asked, waiting to hear a familiar name he had heard of. 

They had several American’s that they dealt with on a daily or weekly basis, so he was no stranger to the usual suspects. “Thorin Durin,” Gandalf said the name with ease and Bilbo’s brows knitted up with confusion. He could not recall hearing that name before, his list of usual suspects hitting a dead stop.

“And who might that be?” he asked, a little annoyed now that Gandalf looked so amused. As if he had one over the man or something. “Well, he did enter the room just behind you a few moment ago,” Gandalf commented, watching as Bilbo turned to gaze at the one who would be a stranger to him, “Thorin Durin, this is Bilbo Baggins. I’d suggest you two become quite comfortable around each other as you will be working quite closely together.”

Bilbo was trying to piece together who this man was and why it was him. Gandalf did not just pick people based on skill alone, so there had to be something unique about Mr. Durin.

Where were his manners?

He took a moment to clear his throat and offer his hand to Thorin, “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Durin.” Given the moment, perhaps such introductions should have been skipped over, but Bilbo was always a man of manners. That was just how he was raised, even if they were undeserved.

[dragonspined]

Devani had been rather surprised to be invited on such a venture.  Gandalf may have issued the offer, but it was not his quest.  They had fully expected for the dwarves to protest given it was a dragon who had driven them from their home.  Something they could empathize with on some level.  The war before she’d even been hatched had chased what remained of dragons to the edges of Middle Earth.  There would always be those that coveted the same thing hoarded under hot scales.   Smoke drifted out of her nose as she adjusted position on the ground, wisps spiraling up to the stars.  “If you could change it...would you?”  A potentially rude question given dwarves stubbornness and pride, but given all the trouble being born a prince had caused Thorin she was curious.  Wings shifted on their back as they fixed him with bright gold eyes.  “If you had been born something else, it would have saved you a lot of trouble.”

@orcristwielder from here

[wanderingarcherviola]

It'd been years since Viola last looked upon the Lonely Mountain, upon Erebor, it looked much the same from a distance but she could tell both it and Dale were flourishing.

She'd been gone for almost eight years now, originally promising Thorin she'd return after helping with a growing problem of Orcs in the North, promising she'd not go abandoning her friend and King less than two years into his rule.

But much had happened up North, one problem led to several more and before she knew it Viola was caught in what could only be described as Orc-poltiics and superstitions gone mad.

Once things were settled down enough she'd written a letter to Thorin apologising for her disappearance and promising to explain everything if he would come meet her at Ravenhill. She only hoped he'd recognise her now she was grown.

@orcristwielder

[fxrest-bcrn]

@orcristwielder | Continued from here: 

THE DWARF'S EYES WERE WIDE FOR A BRIEF MOMENT, and then they narrowed. He wanted to ask why it was best that the other not be mentioned, but the thought had been pushed aside for the sake of the situation. A simple nod had been given, his word had been a solid promise not to repeat what had been seen, whom the royal had seen. Who was he to tell anyways, hm? Not like he trusted very many people other than those of his kin, his company. Not very many of the Men couke be trusted and Thorin was absolutely certain that none of the elves could be trusted. "Fair enough." The brunette said, voice rumbling deep from his chest. It was probably the only thing he had said within the whole few hours that the two had been in one another's company.

Hal had been stalking the dwarf’s party for a while, silent through the treetops. It wasn’t until they’d stopped to rest that he’d even bothered to show himself: he wanted to see where they were going... and wanted to ensure his own people wouldn’t see him.

Still, now that they were alone, the elf dropped to sit in front of the fire, a long sigh escaping him. 

“There’s a troll den nearby. There’s a bounty out on ‘em out for whoever the Lord is of... what’s that mannish town nearby?” Hal let out a soft huff, shaking his head. “Some other hunter was s’pposed t’ take care of it, but... first come, first serve, eh?”

[themerrymutants]

@orcristwielder​

[princguard-a]

Lark followed the beaten path laden with soft grasses. She never had traveled to the Shire before and while she was doing so under the direct order of Elrond--to deliver a message to Gandalf--she would take her time to enjoy the scenery. 

With the Shire in the distance; Lark quickened her footsteps. The quicker she could deliver the message, the quicker she could explore these new people. She had heard of Hobbits from others--or read about them in books, but it would be her first time seeing one. 

however, what she did not expect when she turned down the path that would lead her to her destination was a gruff looking dwarf. 

She schooled her features into neutrality as she approached the man. 

“ Well met, stranger.” she greeted, though she did keep ample distance between them as she moved to walk past. 

Lark had spent a great deal of time among the men of Gondor, and have come to know the human settlements in the region; but never would she figure a dwarf would make his way to the Shire. The first thought that came to her mind was wondering what Gandalf was truly up to. 

“You look lost. Are you truly heading for the Shire?” she tried her best to hide any note of suspicion in her tone. Still, the curiosity got the better of her. 

@orcristwielder​ liked for a tolkien starter 

[swordoaths]

@orcristwielder​ continued from x

HIS ELDEST NEPHEW HAD PICKED UP ON THE LESSON. Thorin was admittedly quite proud of this.  The brunette had turned to face the lighter haired one, bright blues gazing upon the other for a few minutes as silence lingered between uncle and nephew. Tales had been passed down through the generations, stories of their mightiest leaders and warriors, fighting for what was believed to be their right.

But it was also how Thorin had come to a conclusion: they as a people, who shaped themselves in the end and not the stories. Not the deeds of the past.

"It is also our actions that help shape us in profound ways, nephew." The brunette said, the corners of his lips quirking a bit as he moved closer to stand in front of the eldest, "You've grown so much, learned so many things. Yet, there is still so much to teach you." The royal spoke softly, his tone had been one he'd used with the two brothers all their lives - since the very day he began helping in raising them.

    Even when there were no words between them, there was the echo of the song in their hearts. Words crafted together in their tongue for dwarvish ears alone, it was a sacred bond between kin. It was memory--- history--- remembrance--- for all those still scattered amongst the mountains and for those who had already gone to the halls of Mahal. But what is more, it was a promise--- that with these tales of old there would always be kin, above all. No dwarf was truly ever alone.

   Fíli had carried these tales and songs with him since he was but a strapling. His uncle had raised him with them, filling what had been absent in his life so that there was naught but fullness. And he would not forget it. Aye, it was those tales that stoked the flames of his heart, fueling his work in the forges, honing his skill with the blade, and strengthening his navigation when he traveled to bartering what he had made to provide for his family. If there was a way to give back to his kin, Fíli would do it. 

    And so, it would come as no surprise that he would answer his uncle’s call to reclaim Erebor. There was no question.

    “And for years, you have stood by your word with actions, Uncle,” he answered. “I have seen it, even when I was but a strapling too small for his sword.” Fíli hadn’t forgotten, nor had the moments of youth faded from his mind. “We look out for each other. We stay true to the stories by staying true to one another. It is why Kíli and I will go with you. It is why we all go with you.” 

[adragonrider]

@orcristwielder​​ cont

Eilonwy gave Thorin a raise of her brow, she nudged Kili in the side a little like a sibling would with the other. “Ow..” Kili muttered, though he deserved the slight elbow in the side. “..I said I don’t dance” stubborn to the bone was the redhead, Kili crossed his arms looking toward Eilonwy with a cheeky glint in his eyes. “How about I’ll teach you!” He suggested, making Fili face palm a little. 

Eilonwy took a small step back from the dwarf, hands out in front of her. “No offence Kili but I really don’t think you’re the best person to teach me” She didn’t mean any harm in it, it was just, she really didn’t wish to dance. “I’ve never danced so far in my life, and I’m certainly not starting now.” Arms crossed over her chest. Kili gave a grin “Fine milady-” Next thing he knew she gave him a small whack across her head. “Don’t call me that. I’m not a princess, this isn’t happening” Kili rubbed a little at his temple, it was clear that she was panicking slightly. 

Balin may have said that she was the forgotten Princess of Domino, though Eilonwy was quite clearly still in denial about it all. “Fine perhaps not with me, Fili can do it.” Kili offered his brother who seemed to gave a raise of his brows in surprise. Bright blue eyes looked toward Thorin, “Thorin, please don’t make me do this.. I’m not princess material..” 

[sashaofravenlock]

Closed Starter for Witness Protection AU @orcristwielder

The sun had long since set and silence hung heavily in the air in the undisclosed facility she had been brought to earlier in the day. Despite the late hour, there would be no rest, even though she was given a room to rest while the marshals waited on the other witness to arrive. Sitting upon the narrow bunkbed with her was all that was left of her former life: two duffle bags of belongings and the dog she adopted months before she took her final case as a detective.

What was meant to be a promising career was now stopped dead and it could be debated that it was her own dedication and drive that brought her to this point. A string of seemingly unrelated murders all tied together in a way only she could see and naturally she had to unravel it, bringing to light years of conspiracies and corruption within her city. The events that followed happened like a whirlwind and all she could do was go with it until she ended up where she is now.

A knock interrupted her thoughts and she was asked to come out and meet the second witness. After quickly rubbing her eyes and neatening her hair, the woman left the room, allowing her dog to follow her out.

[adventures-written]

“ just let it out. “ — to Bilbo.

Hurt&Comfort

It was over. The battle was done and the dwarves were celebrating. There was a sense of relief that seemed to spread around to man and elf as well. As if a weight had been lifted off of all of them. The celebrations lasted days, though Bilbo did not take part in much of the festivities. There was a lot that played at his mind, telling him it was time to leave before anything else happened.

But he needed that confirmation first. A part of him needed to make sure Thorin and his nephews would pull through.

He could still see the fighting. He could still picture Fili's fall, a fall that nearly killed him. He could still hear Kili yelling. And Thorin -- There was so much blood.

It was late evening when Balin came to inform him of the good news. Kili was the first to awaken, though Fili still seemed to be unconscious, he was making a good recovery. Of course, Balin knew the most pressing question on Bilbo's mind though; How was Thorin? "He's awake, if tha's what ya wanna know," Balin reached up to pat Bilbo's shoulder, "And I'm sure he'd enjoy a visit from a good friend." "Ah..heh. Right. I will make my way there, then. Is...Is Gandalf still around?" he asked, glancing around the halls as if the wizard would appear at the mere mention of his name.

"I believe he went into Dale to talk with Bard -- He mentioned he wouldn't be long," Balin answered. Bilbo gave a small nod, debating for the moment in finding the wizard and leaving now. Thorin was awake, he was alive. His nephews were well, too. That was all the confirmation the hobbit needed. He didn't wish to address anything else, including his own guilt.

If only he had been stronger. Perhaps then he wouldn't have been unconscious while his friends nearly perished.

Bilbo didn't catch the last of Balin's words, only realizing he was now standing there alone and that the dwarf was wandering away when he came back from his thoughts. His lips curled into a thin line and his nose twitched nervously. There was a decision to be made, and either way, the hobbit felt like a coward. He began to walk, letting his feet carry him and decide for him as to where he would end up.

Apparently they had decided to take him to Thorin's room, which he could hear voices coming from. One of softer, tired sounding, which had to be Thorin. The other was boisterous and loud, which had to be Dain. He recognized the voice from the battle, though he hadn't really interacted with the dwarf after everything was said and done. The hobbit listened quietly as the two had their conversation, one he likely shouldn't be eaves dropping in on. Where were his manners? The dwarves must be growing on him.

Of course, the conversation sounded pleasant, if a bit political. He wondered why these things could not wait until Thorin was more recovered. He had just woken up, after all.

As Bilbo listened, he suddenly heard heavy footsteps coming towards the door, making the hobbit panic. He looked around, wondering for a moment if he could make a quick exit, but it was already too late. So, instead, he raised a hand as if to knock on the door when it opened before him and Dain nearly walked straight into him. The ginger dwarf startled, "Aye, laddy, what're ya doin'ere?" Bilbo opened his mouth, a lack of words coming for a moment. He must have had the strangest look on his face for Dain could only raise a brow at him.

"I came to see Thorin...I..I heard he was awake," Bilbo finally stated, feeling tension in his body. He felt stiff, once again barely hearing Dain's words as he stepped aside to let the hobbit enter the room. Something was said about Thorin needing his rest, to which Bilbo commented that he wouldn't stay too long.

There was a silence that fell as Dain excused himself, roughly closing the door behind himself as he left the two alone. Bilbo was not making eye contact, his gaze glued to the floor as he tried to find the words. There were so many before, but now they all seemed lost or too feeble to explain exactly how he felt. It was as though every possible idea, every scenario he had been thinking up while Thorin was unconscious, had just been erased from his memory. He supposed the actual conversations were always harder than fictitious ones.

"Thorin, I..." he finally managed a glance up at the dwarf, who still had that intense stare despite everything. He was quick to look away again, afraid the dwarf he considered to be a dear friend would suddenly look down upon him again. That he would realize his first assumptions of the hobbit hadn't been far from the truth after all.

"Just let it out."

Thorin's voice hit his ears, though it wasn't as harsh as he expected. It was softer than normal, tired sounding. He could only imagine how exhausted the dwarf must be, especially with all of his injuries. Those injuries would certainly take a long time to heal, though they may never fully heal at all.

"I thought we lost you..." Bilbo finally let it slip, feeling an overwhelming wave of emotions wash over him, "You, and Fili and Kili -- And I just stood there..." He let out a weary laugh, shaking his head. "I am sorry, Thorin. For everything. For..deceiving you, for being unable to aid you and the others during the battle. I...I hope you recover...I truly believe that you will be a great King. I just wanted to say that before I left for the Shire." There was more he could say. So much more he could just let go of, but now was not the time. Not when the dwarf literally just woke up.

"Goodbye, Thorin..." he turned to leave, making a beeline for the door as if he needed to leave this instant or risk something being said that he either didn't want to say or didn't want to hear.

[themerrymutants]

"Thorin Oakenshield, are you in?" Gandalf asked knocking on the door with his staff. A beat passed before he added: "I assure you that I do come merely to visit."

Well to visit and to drop off whatever he'd been travelling with but he knew full well that any allusion to his strange companion would keep the door locked and windows shuttered. Said companion let out a soft hiss; at what eru only knew. It seemed to find most things disagreeable including, but certainly not limited to: robes (thankfully it was weak from whatever had the absence of mind to attack it), sticks breaking, leaves rustling, and coin purse that had fallen (it refused to go anywhere near that side of the cart the entire night).

-----

37 was fast asleep in the back of the healer's cart, its mind sweeping the area for anything that could be a threat as it slept. Flashes of memories that it couldn't quite comprehend filled its mind, shouting, running, a flash of a knife, a great light, then darkness. It woke at the healer stopping then leaving the cart, letting out a soft hiss as the shift in weight from his departure shook it.

Now awake it sat up just enough for two deer-like ears to poke out over the side. It reached its mind out as far as it could racing through the minds it touched along the way. Animals were ignored, people marked but left alone, orcs were dealt with on touch. It reached the end of its range quickly flickering through minds fast enough for most to miss it; all at once it snapped its mind back to its present location to resume its telepathic rounds.

[respectablebaggins]

[ cont from here with @orcristwielder​ ]

Bilbo didn’t expect the King Under The Mountain to be the most amiable of patients. He had, on more than just the one occasion, tested Thorin’s patience himself over the course of their adventure together. And even now, settled as they were, living in Erebor for now because Bilbo was reluctant to leave his friends in their celebrations and their mourning, Bilbo was finding Thorin as quietly stubborn as ever.

“It’s my mother’s recipe,” Bilbo gave a soft smile, then shrugged, “More or less...” There were substitutions that had to be made for the soup, but no dwarf yet had complained about his cooking for them, even if they called him useless behind his back. It was never for the cooking.

“Perhaps some fresh air might help?” Bilbo offered. That was another thing about the Mountain. As glorious and awe inspiring as it was... it made him miss the Shire tenfold, incredibly different from his home. He knew he needed to return soon, or he’d not likely have a home to return to... But he couldn’t leave while Thorin was ill. What kind of friend would he be?