"Relax," hissed Thorin as they passed by each other in the middle, and Kíli shot him a sour look.
:-DDDDDDDDDDDDD
as if he hadn't been practicing it for the last five minutes.
FLAIL!
Compose yourself, Thorin, he thought sternly. You're a prince and heir to a throne; a scholar and a warrior. You will not be defeated by a simple country dance!
Oh you have no idea....
and he winked at him.
Thorin started to look for the exit.
GO BILBO! TAKE WHAT'S YOURS! LURE HIM IN!
*** YAY Fíli likes the waistcoats!!!!!
"You've been at the forge again--just what exactly are you doing there at all hours?" For Thorin would not say, no matter how much his nephews nagged at him and Balin gave him curious looks.
A PRESENT FOR HIS BELOVED OF COURSE
"That's it, that is the final straw," he announced as he grabbed Thorin's arm.
Uh oh.
Thorin blinked at the dark gray water, then winced as Bilbo started scrubbing soap into his hair. "I'm capable of washing my own hair," he growled.
Oh my. Bilbo aggressively washing Thorin's hair is a very unexpected turn on.
"Don't you dare!"
SECONDED!
"I haven't combed your hair out since--since we left Khazad-dûm," he murmured.
I should have seen this coming... HAIR COMBING time....laskdfjgnvöakdfjnvöakdjfnvökj
"It is a servant's job," said Thorin. "I should have never let you do it."
NOPE. It's your love's job.
grabbed a comb, and began to work the tangles out of it.
Great idea for my „happy version“ of the hair combing art....
THORIN ICE-SKATING DEAR ERU!
Bilbo took a last few passes with the comb through the heavy, clean hair. It smelled of camomile soap, and he resisted a sudden impulse to run his fingers through it instead of the comb.
*mad purring *
"I...am not...having...a lovely...time," Thorin announced as he sailed majestically (and inexorably) past Bilbo, doing his best not to gyrate his arms like an idiot. Where in the world would a people get an idea to strap blades to their feet and slide around on ice? Hobbits were mad, all of them.
*HOWLING WITH LAUGHTER *
An arm looped through his. "I'm not terribly good at this," Bilbo said. "Always preferred conkers to skating." His feet slipped and his free arm waved in the air. "Whoa. Thanks for--for keeping me steady. Shall we take a turn of the pond together?"
*melts *
And nice that Dwalin is playing with the lids and the young lads are playing hockey, hehe.
Re: CAUTION: SQUEE AND FLAILING, OVERUSE OF CAPSLOCK
Oh your timing is exquisite.
"Relax," hissed Thorin as they passed by each other in the middle, and Kíli shot him a sour look.
:-DDDDDDDDDDDDD
as if he hadn't been practicing it for the last five minutes.
FLAIL!
Compose yourself, Thorin, he thought sternly. You're a prince and heir to a throne; a scholar and a warrior. You will not be defeated by a simple country dance!
Oh you have no idea....
and he winked at him.
Thorin started to look for the exit.
GO BILBO! TAKE WHAT'S YOURS! LURE HIM IN!
***
YAY Fíli likes the waistcoats!!!!!
"You've been at the forge again--just what exactly are you doing there at all hours?" For Thorin would not say, no matter how much his nephews nagged at him and Balin gave him curious looks.
A PRESENT FOR HIS BELOVED OF COURSE
"That's it, that is the final straw," he announced as he grabbed Thorin's arm.
Uh oh.
Thorin blinked at the dark gray water, then winced as Bilbo started scrubbing soap into his hair. "I'm capable of washing my own hair," he growled.
Oh my. Bilbo aggressively washing Thorin's hair is a very unexpected turn on.
"Don't you dare!"
SECONDED!
"I haven't combed your hair out since--since we left Khazad-dûm," he murmured.
I should have seen this coming... HAIR COMBING time....laskdfjgnvöakdfjnvöakdjfnvökj
"It is a servant's job," said Thorin. "I should have never let you do it."
NOPE. It's your love's job.
grabbed a comb, and began to work the tangles out of it.
Great idea for my „happy version“ of the hair combing art....
THORIN ICE-SKATING DEAR ERU!
Bilbo took a last few passes with the comb through the heavy, clean hair. It smelled of camomile soap, and he resisted a sudden impulse to run his fingers through it instead of the comb.
*mad purring *
"I...am not...having...a lovely...time," Thorin announced as he sailed majestically (and inexorably) past Bilbo, doing his best not to gyrate his arms like an idiot. Where in the world would a people get an idea to strap blades to their feet and slide around on ice? Hobbits were mad, all of them.
*HOWLING WITH LAUGHTER *
An arm looped through his. "I'm not terribly good at this," Bilbo said. "Always preferred conkers to skating." His feet slipped and his free arm waved in the air. "Whoa. Thanks for--for keeping me steady. Shall we take a turn of the pond together?"
*melts *
And nice that Dwalin is playing with the lids and the young lads are playing hockey, hehe.