----- MET WITH TOMBS, the lionheart shifts to count them . . . but it is impossible. there are too many. he ponders, remember the chatter of elder warriors, lecturing him on the importance. being a young dwarfling then, he gave no thought to the importance of things. he wanted to be strong in the face of the enemy, he trained endless hours with axes, swords, and knives... but admittedly, never sought the importance of recognising his own deceased.      “ vaguely, “ he admits. “ i remember some things . . . when my father died. “ he says, eyes locked on the slabs, hanging in shame. “ i guess i’ve tried to forget about it. “

----- A SMILE SPREADS ACROSS HIS FEATURES. “ well, uncle, i must admit, “ he says, the grin apparent in his voice. “ you took that better than i expected. “      he understands the conditions in this. there is still a chance that tauriel will have to remain in dale indefinitely. but the mere knowledge that she is being considered is a step forward. he was never keen on her kind, but she is an exception. she questions the ways of her kin - perhaps, with hesitations, the future king could also begin to do the same. the last thing erebor needs is another war between the races of middle earth.

----- THE FRESH EVENING AIR FILLS HIS LUNGS, and the beauty and calmness of the narnian garden brings him a sense of comfort. his eyes dart from bush to flower to bug, soaking it all in. she has siblings - and they travel narnia !! fili wonders if he could go on an adventure with her sister. there would be nothing he’d love more than to camp out under foreign stars - her question catches him and he prepares for a long winded story.      “ i have a tale for you, “ he says, cheekily. he walks ahead and turns, slowly walking backwards to set the tale. “ deep in the lonely mountain, there was a kingdom called erebor. it was home to the mightiest of dwarf lords derived from durin the deathless, forged by aulë himself. generations pass, and a lot of history passes as well but my immediate kins’ tale begins in the golden age of erebor, “      he then theatrically tells the tale of his great grandfather’s hoard of riches, and the destruction of erebor and dale at the hands of smaug the firedrake. he proceeds to name all thirteen members of thorin’s company including, himself and bilbo baggins. he then adds gandalf, although he kept disappearing. he drowns on about how he never thought they would escape the dungeons of mirkwood and the agony of kili’s near death in laketown. but through the excitement of telling the narnian queen his tale, his expression darkens.       “ we started a war, “ he says, gravely. “ we were facing azog the defiler. the pale orc. he caught me, put his blade through my back and dropped me from a cliff at my brothers feet. i should’ve died that day. too many innocents died because of my kins pride. but, we got the mountain back and we are trying to undo the wrongs. slowly, regaining trust with dale and even lord thranduil, if that’s possible. “      he exhales, shaking his head and looking around him, a smile glimmers once again on his features.      “ i apologise for going on like that . . . i don’t mean to bore you at all.  tell me, your siblings. where are they now? “

me showing up after like 2 weeks of inactivity

i am alive. just having some probs with my mental health but i am going to attempt to do things today !!

it’s munday and my hair is PEACH 🍑