#smaugiisms

dead... he’s dead...

The words still rang in her ears and she shook her head, trying to push them out.

“Inquisitor...” she looked up at the scout, the bags obvious under her icy eyes.

“What did you find?” she spoke up, straightening her back. “Any news?”

“Still nothing... serah...” he seemed nervous, and rightfully so. She opened her mouth to shout at him, tell him to search again, but right as she did, another scout bolted in, practically shoving the other one to the side.

“Inquisitor! There’s...” She darted out of the room and out of Josie’s office. There’s a man at the gates. It’s him...

She ran as fast as her feet could take her, all the way down the stairs and to the front gates. She saw him and slowed her feet to a stop just in front of him, blue eyes wide. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, be glad that he was back... but first...

Her hand swiftly slapped across his face before she did as she wanted to. “Did... did you have to wait this long to come back?” She growled, but her hand hurt from slapping his thick skin. Making her search for weeks... leaving her worried for weeks....

The sun had risen hours before, stirring The Great Dragon with its rays. Intrigue and excitement had kept him from sleeping  deeply as he was quite driven to learn more about his this  strange land. Feeling the natural rhythmns of the land beneath him, Kilgharrah rose from his makeshift bed and ventured down to the nearby stream. He knelt down upon the rocks at the water’s edge and cupped his hands, dipping them into the water and  drawing them up to his mouth to refresh himself with the water as it entered his mouth and slid down his dry throat. He cupped his  hands and dipped them into the water once more, but this time he carried the water to his slumbering companion who had slept far deeper than he. A sly smile drifted across his lips as he stopped  at his side and let some water trickle down upon Smaug’s face, desiring to wake him. 

He had been a prisoner to a king for decades, waiting for freedom and vindication all that time. He was done waiting.  Besides, he could not resist temptation to play with Smaug this  morning...

“Wake yourself lokalaat,” he murmured, the sly smile did not cease, “I very much desire to see and learn about this homeland of yours... Not to mention see this Erebor you have told me much about.”

                 ❝ You do you, don’t accept my warning, but heed it                             if you will. There is danger that you cannot face. ❞

                 "Perhaps I am stronger than you know..." 

          She knew not the stranger before her, yet her flight reflexes were on a l e r t. Surroundings were monitored closely as gaze narrowed. His words, perhaps not threat, still spoke of threatening consequences; and it always was better to be prepared for what lie ahead, and if any insight could be given, it would be most HELPFUL.

I’m here now and slowly doing things but I’m also...

-twerks @ u- I didn’t know you came to KY often.

Send ❄ for our muses to be stuck in a cabin while a large winter storm is raging outside.

How was it possible for two creatures with wings to gettrapped in a storm? Sure, Diaval might have been paying more attention to hisflying partner than he was to the weather, but it still shouldn’t havehappened. Before he knew it, the weather had turned sour, a prelude of hailfollowed by a heavy snow made it impossible for Diaval to keep flying. In fact,it had been all he could do to maneuver under Smaug and hope that the dragon’ssize and scales would be enough to protect him. It worked for a little while,until the howling wind made it impossible to continue flying.

The decent to the ground had been troublesome, to say theleast. Diaval was falling more than flying and it was a miracle that he made itto the ground safely. The cold was sinking into his bones and he reflexivelyshifted into his human form to try and retain heat. The strategy worked for atime; but his hands soon became numb and his body shook uncontrollably. IfSmaug hadn’t pointed out an abandoned shack that they could take shelter in, itmight have just been the end of the raven.

“I don’t care if he is a dragon, he’s completely insufferable.” The  princess  craned  her  neck as her chaperon, the old Countess Vereberg, arranged the glittering jewels around her throat.

“Hush-- he’ll hear you.”

“And what if he does hear me?  Do you suppose he’ll  eat me for lunch? ... It’s madness, I tell you.” 

The countess smoothed down a stray lock of hair and then the  doors  opened--  the doors to her father’s throne room, a handsome  chamber  styled  in  baroque  opulence.  Ann didn’t so much as hesitate crossing the room to the serpen- -tine  usurper  making  himself  comfortable  on the throne, though whether it was  from  bravery  or  ignorance  would have been difficult to judge.