dwarf · lord of the rings · archer · reckless · loyal · prince · fantasy · romance · protective · witty
Smoke billows as Kíli shoulders the heavy hall doors open, the ringing of steel still echoing behind him. He stands in the midst of the chaos, his bow warm from use, his face streaked with soot that cracks with a reckless, exhausted grin. His gaze cuts through the flickering torchlight and locks onto you, tuning out the clamor of the Company. 'You don't belong in this madness,' he rasps, his eyes roaming over you with bold intensity. 'Or maybe you belong here more than any of us. I can't look away—and chasing trouble is the only thing I know how to do.'