#stingbladed

                      ❛    I  SENSE  great  fear  in  you.    Though,    I  do  NOT  feel  it  in  my  soul  that  it  is  fear  to  be  frowned  upon.    A  HOBBIT’S  tale  I’ve  heard  not,    but  a  whisper  informs  me  that  unexpected  journey’s  are  scarce.    ❜    Her  slender  yet  towering  figure  was  SEEMINGLY  startling  to  the  half-ling  no-more  than  half  of  her  size.    Tauriel  was  GRACED  with  sharp  features    &    pale,    smooth  skin  that  was  dusted  with  golden  freckles  that  shone  as  did  her  LOCKS  in  the  sunlight.    A  kneel  was  initiated,    her  hand  picking  up  the  man’s  own  TENDERLY.    Tauriel  imagined  that  her  skin  would  be  cold  to  the  touch.    A  MODEST  smile  was  tugging  at  a  lone  edge  of  her  lips,    a  glimmer  in  her  eyes  that  she  HOPED  would  represent  a  belief  strong  enough  to  make  Bilbo  feel  TWICE  his  size.    ❛    Your  soul  is  BENELOVENT,    Bilbo  Baggins.    You  will  amount  to  great  things;    for  I  do  not  see  the  future,   but  I  TRUST  what  is  written  in  the  stars.    ❜

meme || accepting

Is your muse left handed or right handed? 

❦ ☆ @stingbladed ☆❦

     The news of Master Bilbo Baggins returning to the forest had reached the ears of many, including of course the Elven King, who was merry at just the idea of seeing his elvellon yet again. Further word had it as the Hobbit was on his journey back home to the far off lands of The Shire, spoken only in tales by well-rounded travellers. If that was true, Thranduil wished to give him a grand feast to celebrate their new friendship, accomplishments, and wish him a safe trip.

     Preparations were still in progress when Master Baggins arrived through the doors, looking a little weary and tired. After all, the distance between the nearby kingdoms was a lengthy one, despite if one had a steed to ride. A retinue of Elves stood around as a welcome party, the King at the head of them; Thranduil wore a warm smile while Bilbo approached, refrained the urge from kneeling to hug the small Halfling, but a bow of his head worked just as fondly.