otherwordly meme.

[sockerball]

Otherwordly Meme

Sometimes all you need is a word to spark off an idea.

1. Post a comment with your character's name, canon, and any preferences you may have (no shipping, no smut, etc.)

2. Leave the comment blank or post a word or two in the body.

It may also help if you list scenarios you would like to play.

3. Reply to other people, either with words you picked out, or words they posted as prompts for a thread.

( A cleanup of the previous Otherwordly Meme. )

Comments

Thorin Oakenshield | The Hobbit

[goldsickness]

((Modern!AU also available.))

/rolls the best words. XD;

[bilbo_baggins]

[It's not that Bilbo has adopted a habit of looking. Not much, anyway. He was always the sort that lead a solitary life, even among his own kind. A lot of hobbits were simply bothersome. Inviting family over ensured he'd just lose some of his cutlery or worse.

But on the road, he's taken a real shine to his dwarf companions. They were a merry bunch, as Gandalf had said, and Bilbo was seeing more of the good side of them these days. In particular, he couldn't help but notice the one who probably prefers to remain unnoticed. What was it about Thorin?

Must be the brooding look. Good thing he's a burglar. Maybe he'll be good at stealing glances, too.]

[ooc: I might be undressing you with my eyes...]

shame on you master burglar

[goldsickness]

[Staring is not something that bothers Thorin overmuch. He has felt it before, and will too again, though usually it comes with hint of judgement or quiet scrutiny, but not this time.

It does not bother him either now, yet there is something to it that the dwarf can't quite place his finger upon. Much they have been through and Thorin trusts Bilbo a little more now, but it is still difficult to read him at times, as is the case at the moment.

Bilbo is not as discreet as he would like to think, no. And while at first Thorin does not return the glances, neither does he make it a point to hide the fact that he has noticed. He looks up eventually to catch the gaze of the hobbit, a sort of curiosity in the narrowing of his eyes.]

his fault for being so smoldering u_u

[bilbo_baggins]

[Guess he wasn't as sly as he thought. Bilbo will have to work on that if he's ever going to be a proper burglar. Not that he ever wanted to be one until now.

When his eyes are met by Thorin's, the hobbit hastily looks away, a most embarrassed look crossing his face. Ahem! He'll just get back to brushing the hair of his horse. There's a good horse. Do let Bilbo know if Thorin is giving him mean looks.]

hey he's not doing it on purpose

[goldsickness]

[Thorin is not giving him mean looks, but curious ones. They just look mean with that nearly perpetual frown of his.

When Bilbo so hastily turns his attention to his horse, he looks all the more intrigued, though it is a few minutes longer before he steps away from where he watches the rest of the group quietly, and closer to where Bilbo is. He does not make it a point to approach quietly, though he is quite calm and silent on his feet, especially for a dwarf.] Is there anything you wish to ask me, Master Baggins?

that's not an excuse

[bilbo_baggins]

[Bilbo wishes his heart would stop pounding so wildly. It feels as though Thorin would hear it, even over by the camp fire. Just as he thinks he's getting a handle on his nerves, Thorin's voice catches him by surprise.

He turns around, accidentally knocking over a bucket in the process. Hastily, he stoops to pick it up.]

Nope! Nope, not a thing. Not, um.. not at all.

[Oh yeah, he sounds so natural.]

Is there anything I can do for you, Thorin?

oh shush

[goldsickness]

[Thorin's eyebrows arch in a near mock display of surprise, watching as Bilbo scrambles to fix the bucket he had knocked over. To him it has become rather easy to tell when Bilbo is lying, he thinks, or at least when he is hiding something, but Thorin does not press on the matter again just yet.]

Not at this moment.

[He takes a step, slowly as to not startle the hobbit again, until he is standing next to him, then places a hand on the horse. The fur seems very vigorously brushed indeed.]

But rest assured, I will tell you if that changes. [And by that he means he won't just stare at him, like Bilbo had been doing to Thorin until just a few minutes ago.]

[bilbo_baggins]

[Bilbo finds himself absorbed in Thorin's look. A lump forms in his throat and he clears it slightly, searching for his own voice.]

Good. [He croaks.] I'd prefer if you would.

[His hand drifts to the horse's mane absently, but finds his fingers just resting over Thorin's. He glances once at their hands, the dwarf's far rougher than his own. A lot of hard living is the cause of that.

Bilbo looks at Thorin again and nods.]

I am at your service. Always.

[goldsickness]

[The touch, unintentional as it is, may be surprising but it's not entirely unwelcome. And as Thorin feels his shoulders tense and his eyes lower to their hands too, he is still in place, neither searching for more contact nor pulling away.

Bilbo's skin is nearly unblemished by comparison, whilst his own fingers are overgrown with callouses. Thorin would have it none other way, stories of a life told in the shape of scars and bruises, even the smallest ones.]

I have done little to deserve such loyalty. [Words that he thinks to himself, but only when he speaks does he realize that he said them out loud. It is perhaps meant as a jest, but still carries some truth to it nonetheless.]

[malur]

{ ooc: I figured Thorin would have more a reason for this than Vali would, so however you want to take it is fine with me!

[goldsickness]

[ It has been decades since then, and Thorin still wakes in the night, when he sleeps at all, with the smell of blood and death filling his nose, with the image of the head of his grandfather rolling down to his feet, the voice of his brother in the last choked cry he let out, in panic and horror that is due to a dwarf not yet grown, ringing in his ears still. He should hardly cling to memories of Azanulbizar, but it is beyond his control. People look to him for any hint of leadership, yet he has days that wherever he looks, all he sees is fear, doubt, questions, not as much in others as he does in himself.

Perhaps there is something wrong in wanting solitude, in wishing to be away from one's family and people. Thorin wonders if he ought to reprimand himself for it, yet he seeks the quiet despite of that hindering feeling that he should not keep apart for so long, that he has duties and matters to tend to, that he has the people to look after. Dís has a child now, and she expects another, and still Thorin seeks hours away from Fíli, who before he could even talk properly already ran around yielding a branch like a shield.

He has not gone too far; he never does. It is only over the mountain that he rests, his pony some good feet away from him, munching idly on grass, as Thorin overlooks the mountainside and the forest and plains that follow, a small village just at the end of the road that cuts through the trees. He does not expect company, yet he would not be surprised if someone came to look for him. It would not be the first time.]

[malur]

[Tonight had been his turn to see Fíli to bed, to let Dís to bed early because it was only fair; it was the first night he himself had been home early to see his son before bed. And yet the lad had difficulty sleeping, waking up in worry that his father would be away again. So Váli stayed propped up against his son's headboard, running a hand over the short blond locks and lowly singing songs until he was sure his boy had drifted off. In truth, he's sure now that everyone in this house is asleep except for him.

Except for as he's heading for his own bed, he hears someone wake and it has him pausing. Váli's heard from Dís and a few others that sometimes Thorin sneaks off in the middle of the night but he's never seen it. And given all his family had been through, even if he only is a brother through marriage, it's easy for him to justify missing more sleep to make sure everything is well. Váli doesn't bother taking a pony—too noisy for tailing—and follows behind Thorin on foot just far enough where he wouldn't be heard.

And as soon as Thorin stopped he stopped, taking cover behind a tree to observe for a few minutes. In that short time he's come to realize why Thorin's here and that he's most likely, albeit unknown to one of them, intruding. Váli can't imagine being in his brother-in-law's shoes, can't imagine the weight on his shoulders, the stares of people looking for guidance. He doesn't imagine the elder would want attention at the moment, nor company for that matter, but he can't help but think he shouldn't be enjoying the night's quiet without a drink—something even Mahal knows he deserves.

It takes time to head back home to get what he needs, shooing away some of the other dwarves who sought Thorin out on the way, though when he returns to that spot on the mountain he has with him a leather canteen. Although he's not intentionally quiet on his approach, Váli clears his throat lightly when he's not but a few steps from the other, offering up the sloshing pouch.] Thought you might like some ale to relax with, keep you company.

[goldsickness]

[The sounds of the mountain and the forest are known to Thorin as the back of his own hand by now. Often times he can tell when the sound of twigs breaking is not a wild animal but the deliberate stepping of someone as they come closer. He would know if someone were to try to sneak up on him, at least if they were dwarves. Which, in this area, were the only ones that roamed the grounds.

The first time he does not hear Váli. He is never close enough for Thorin to notice anything, and not even the pony reacts to the approach as he normally would. In the quiet, he lets himself slip into his own thoughts, quiet but to him, wafting up into the night air like the curling smoke of a pipe, distant but also all around like every minute hoot of an owl, or the faint swooshing sound of breeze gracing the grass.

He is in such a state of absentmindedness that when a throat is cleared behind him, he all but jumps to his feet in surprise, a hand reaching for a dagger to his side before he even thinks better of it. Only when he turns, already halfway up to a standing position, does he notice who it is, and he relaxes once again, sitting back down on the broken tree log.]

Mahal's name, Váli. [There is a sigh of relief, accompanied with half a smile that is entirely unintended, but not fought to be kept hidden.] How did you even find me?

[malur]

[They've had their differences. They came from two different classes, they have slightly differing beliefs and they've certainly overcome mountains since Váli's innocent bumping into with Dís became an attempt at courting her. All in all, what with a marriage, a cross-country journey and soon to be two children between then and now, he'd thought they'd gotten past the pulling daggers on each other part of their relationship.

The surprise that plays across the blond's face disagrees with that impression. Hands raised quickly to prove he was of no harm, even if the panic of seeing the eldest Durin spin and reach for a weapon only lasted for a moment. He's thankful the pouch has a strap on it and even more so for Thorin's sigh and part smile, which has his own grin forming with some airy laughter.]

Never that difficult to track someone's pony. Easier still to find them when they make no attempt to move. [His tone, like most times, is teasing. Though there's a softness to his voice as if to respect the quiet of the night—the reason Thorin sought this place out.] Then again, following someone out of your house usually does the trick.

[goldsickness]

[ It is clear that Thorin was not expecting it to be Váli approaching. Though frankly he should have known it would have been one of his folk, and therefore he had no reason to draw his weapon, but he was not entirely aware of his surroundings and acted on instinct when he heard the steps. It is better to be safe than sorry, after all, if it should be a wild animal trying its luck in making dinner out of the dwarf.

Thorin knows he is hardly the most pleasant of people, and he remembers still how his relationship with Váli had been strained in the beginning, to put it very mildly. The fact they were from entirely different classes had not bothered him as much as the other dwarf perhaps thinks. It would have made little difference even if Váli had been from noble line or even a prince, because Dís was his precious little sister and as far as Thorin was concerned, there was no dwarf worthy of her.

But he does not think so now, as many years have passed, and many things have changed. Thorin muses sometimes, how so stubbornly he had opposed it at first, then decided to never even trust him to begin with, but now he considers him as more than a friend - he sees him as family.]

Have you no better things to do than follow me in the dead of night? [ He arches an eyebrow but there is no annoyance to his voice, just a mere hint of amusement. He gestures to a spot on the log next to him, his word a command but with the lightness of an invitation. ] Sit.

[malur]

[Of course Váli knows they're much better than they were when they started off. He's honestly grateful because as much as he loved Dís he adored her brothers just as much. His own family was always smaller in comparison. He never knew his mother, she passed away after giving birth to him. His sister, who was thirteen years his elder, died when he was ten. Just a few years later Erebor was taken from them and his father, worn and tired from it all, died in battle when they tried taking back Moria. Váli had no uncles or aunts—he the was last of his line.

So to interact with the family of the darling dwarf he fell in love with had always made him happy because he missed his own family, because he had long since envied the Durins for the strong sense of honor and kin they had. Not a day passes him where he doesn't count his stars that he can call Thorin his brother—his family. And he would have been lying if he said he didn't entertain the absurd idea of being his brother long before he even married Dís.

Váli also knows the other was just startled, that he didn't mean it as something personal. He was being quiet after all. And for all his years of knowing Thorin, he can pick out that amusement and muster up a grin of his own at it. He doesn't need to be asked twice to have a seat, though there is a small hesitating hitch in his step as he starts to walk.] Well, I had the faint idea that maybe tonight I would sleep, [The blond admits with a heavy sigh as he eases himself on the log, looking out over the ridge.]

But after I finally managed to get Fíli to sleep and saw you leaving in the dead of night, I thought maybe I should check to see if all was well with my brother. [The nod is light as he gives a gentle roll of his wrist before continuing.] When I saw you came to sit and relax I felt like a fool—went back to the house and brought you this. [For a second time Váli offers Thorin the canteen of ale, untwisting the strap from his wrist.]

[goldsickness]

[ Thorin had never quite imagined his own family to be enough to serve as surrogate for anyone else's. It is a line considered cursed by many, even now, grandfather dying as consequence of the sickness that loomed upon their name, his father disappearing to Mahal knows where, most likely driven mad by the very same thing. Sometimes Thorin remembers nothing but suffering and loss, the overwhelming pain of having seen his brother's body cold and bloodied at his feet, feeling smaller than ever when Thorin fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around him.

He remembers it now still, how the battlefield was such a pile of corpses that by the time Frerin had been found, days had gone past, and he carried in him the smell Thorin recalled no longer, his scent only of death and rotting flesh, goblin blood and sweat. He would like to say that other memories of Frerin - alive, happy, smiling - are the ones he falls back to most often, but he would be lying.

But he can recognize that many others have felt loss like he has, and if anything knowing Váli better had taught him just that. Neither of them could have offered all they had lost in the past, but it is clear now that in each other they had found pieces to at least fill some of the voids. ]

You ought to have gone to bed. [ He arches his eyebrows but his tone is far from commanding, instead light and warm. He takes the canteen, opening it as he adds before taking a gulp from it. ] Any moment you have to rest you should take it. Not many chances will present themselves while Fíli is awake.

[agoodmorning]

“I know that the thing under my bed doesn’t exist. But I also know that if I keep my feet under the blanket, it won’t grab my ankle.” - Stephen King

--

[She wakes up to the sound of something scraping quietly against the stone floors, hearing the soft sounds in her dreams and pulling her out into the world of the wakeful. Her face scrunches up in frustration when the scraping doesn't stop and on impulse her arm reaches out to Thorin lying next to her and shoves lightly at him.] Stop it, Thorin...

[Because in her hazy mind she can't imagine who else would be making that irritating noise. She opens an eye when the sound stops finally. Peering out into the darkness of their shared bedroom Bella watches absolutely nothing and heaves a sigh. Just as she moves to turn back to curl up against Thorin's back the scratching starts again and out of the corner of her eye she spots something dark and small dart underneath their bed.

Bella shrieks, her sleep-addled mind jumped by surprise as she jolts back against Thorin.]

Thorin!

[goldsickness]

[It is late in the night, and whatever scraping is happening on the floor, it is not nearly enough to pull Thorin from his sleep, as neither is the quiet shuffling from Bella that follows.

He is not a heavy sleeper, but it has been years since he has had any reason to wake up with a startle in the middle of the night. He is not entirely conscious when she reaches for him, her voice barely above a murmur, and in return he simply grunts something, not at all coherent neither intending it to be, as he shifts on the bed a little himself.

Then her groggy voice turns to a shriek, right near the back of his head no less, and he all but jumps from his sleep, sight still unfocused and seeing nothing in the darkness of the room.]

What-- [Entirely unaware of how close to the edge of the bed he is, he turns to try and see what she had screamed about, and ends up losing his balance and falling down to the ground.]

[agoodmorning]

Thor- Oh. [She winces at the sound of him falling over the side of the bed, her hair falling over her face and out of the braids she put them in before bed. For a moment she forgets about the strange thing under their bed and leans over the side to peer down at Thorin.]

Are you alright?

[goldsickness]

[He groans, though it is mostly due to the surprise of waking up in this way, and not because he had truly hurt himself. As he scrambles to a sitting position he shakes his head, a hand rubbing over his face.]

I am fine. [Said a bit roughly, but grumpy is all anyone will get from Thorin after he is woken up like this.] What was it?

[agoodmorning]

[Her cheeks color red as she remembers what it was that startled her so and she sinks lower into the blankets at his question.]

I... I thought I saw something. [Oh now she feels horribly embarrassed. She sighs, frowning at herself.] It went under the bed and startled me. [Suddenly she gasps and looks back at Thorin, shoving at his shoulder.]

Look! Look under the bed and check for me! You're already down there after all.

[goldsickness]

[He shoots her a flat stare, though since it is pretty dark she might not even see it at all. Still, even as he mutters something unintelligible under his breath, he leans back down and peeks under the bed.]

There's nothing here. [It would not be surprising that whatever was under there ran away when Thorin fell from the bed. Either that, or it is just too dark for him to see anything.

Just for good measure, he grabs one of his boots and tosses it under the bed, and the little dark thing scrambles across the floor, from one end of the bed to the other.] ... maybe there is something.

[agoodmorning]

[Even if she can't see it she can feel it and the heat in her cheeks rises to the tips of her ears as well.] Maybe it was just a dream then...-

[She jumps at the sound of the familiar scratching again, pulling her feet away from the edge of the bed on impulse.]

Don't let it bite you, Thorin! Can you see what it is? [She chides him, carefully peering over the edge of the bed.]

[goldsickness]

[An audible sigh escapes the dwarf king. Honestly, for someone who had stood up against a dragon, she can be quite dramatic over one little rodent under the bed.]

I am certain I will not die if I get bitten by one mouse. [That is what he guesses it must be, in any case. There is not enough room for him to crawl under the bed and catch it himself, so he looks around the room, finding his sword and, with it still sheathed, using it to try and force the small thing to come out.]