“Are you drawing?” Legolas moved soundlessly, appearing behind Gimli with no warning, startling him so that he very nearly dropped his chalk.
“Aye,” he muttered, scowling down at his design.
“What is this?” Legolas followed the sweep of a line with one fingertip, taking care not to smudge it.
“Mallorn leaves, to be etched into metal,” Gimli confessed, feeling self-conscious. “On arrowheads.”
Legolas gazed down at the drawing. “Any archer would be pleased to carry such fine arrows– but hesitant to shoot them, lest he fail to find them again.”
I started putting all my Gigolas art in one place during breaks and so far I’m at 45 pages on this book. I think I’m going to go for 60 to make a it a perfect bound book. *crosses fingers* I hope it comes out ! Almost there~
All aboard the noble steed! (AKA Legolas is a fucking Disney Prince and Gimli is a poor suspicious Dwarf)
ACCOMPANYING FICLET:
Legolas had removed Arod’s tack and laid it on the grass, before springing lightly upon his back and sending him hither and thither over the yellow grass of the plains, for that was the elvish way with all beasts: to speak with creatures without tool or restraint. Gimli remained on the ground, and great suspicion was in his eyes.
“Come, Gimli!” Aragorn called down from Hasufel’s saddle. “You must ride else you will slow us down!”
“Indeed, Master Dwarf,” Legolas steered Arod to stand beside his friends. “And see: he has a coat of snow and steel! What better horse to carry a Dwarf than one the colour of iron?”
Gimli grunted, but he suffered to climb up behind Legolas and hook his thumbs into the Elf’s belt. He looked mighty uncomfortable.
“Horses!” He grumbled. “First running, then trees, and now horses! What next, shall Elves begin to tunnel and Wizards to speak plainly? Ah, well! It must be borne, so I shall bear it! Steer us well, my friend, and do not laugh overmuch!”
Legolas held his tongue (though great mirth was in his face). Shadowfax let forth a trumpeting neigh and leapt away, a swift, silver arrow streaking to the east with Gandalf crouched over his shoulders. Hasufel and Arod fanned out behind him, their hooves thundering in concert. Thus the three hunters travelled to Edoras; and so began the long association of an Elf of Mirkwood, a Dwarf of the Lonely Mountain, and a horse of Rohan with iron in his coat.
-Life doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes and we keep living anyway-
This song just seemed to fit to @determamfidd wonderful fic about a horse of Rohan, loyal like a dwarf and free like an elf.
*grabs queen’s face and COVERS IT IN KISSES*
AHH THANK YOU omg AAAAAAAH YOU LIKED IT SO MUCH TO SCREENSHOT??? *twirlfaint* you lovely soul! Thank you, I am stoked you like it! and laskjdgfhlajhdfa HAMILTON AAAAAAAHHHHHH
Awwww, Arod ❤ my fave infernal torture device!! He trained Gimli well!
(I had so many comments along the lines of ‘GEE THANKS FOR GIVING ME FEELS ABOUT THE DAMNED HORSE’ for this fic, lololol)
Cite the final line of five of your fics – your favorites, or the most recent ones. Tag five writers who should do this next.
urrgrhblurrrrgh okay here I go – and I am terrible and always give, like, a paragraph rather than a line for these sorts of things. Take it as proof that I am incapable of being succinct!
1. Dain Ironfoot of the Line of Durin, son of Nain, hero of Azanulbizar and Lord of the Iron Hills, picked up his mail with a reluctant sigh. Rifling through the sketches of new mining proposals and trade tariffs, he came across a neat white envelope with Bilbo’s writing upon the front.
2. It is Hulk’s place, Hulk and Bruce’s. They can fill it with their rage and their joy and their freedom, and nothing will ever stop them. Nothing can ever stop them. They are together.
They are not alone.
Hulk leaps again, and Bruce says, there! Let’s see how fast we can run!
Bruce is good at running. Bruce always runs. But Bruce has stopped now.
It could be an experiment?
Hulk is good at experiments. Hulk runs.
Tony flies beside him, and it is good.
They are together, and they are broken, but they are free.
5. “Oh, passably, passably,” Bilbo said, smiling, and he tugged at one of the plaits in Thorin’s neatly braided, silky beard, long enough to tuck into his belt and then some. “Well, you look more the part these days.”
“You never did, however,” Thorin teased him back, and flipped some pages idly. There were illustrations, some so accurate it was uncomfortable, and others very fanciful. If only Smaug had been so harmless and docile-looking as that!
Something caught his eye. “Ah. And do you stand by that?”
“What’s that?” Bilbo had been absently threading his fingers through Thorin’s beard, humming to himself as Thorin perused the book. “Oh! Oh, well. Indeed. Yes, not a bad ending, as endings go. And it’s true enough, even if it was rather delayed in the execution.”
“And they lived happily ever after, to the end of their days,” Thorin read aloud.
THE END.
(Sansukh – draft ending number one billionty and eleven, AND STILL SUBJECT TO CHANGE)
Aw Yiss 