He lost track of time so easily, and he’s still typing away, the hours gone before he knows it and the cup of tea he had by his side appallingly cold. Bard snapped out of his routine when he heard shuffling of feet, and he looked up sharply to see Bain in sleepwear. “Sh-, what time is it? Thank you,” he acknowledged the cup of hot cocoa in his son’s hand, and smiled warmly. 

thank you lovely!! ahlnsflgnhlhgn <3 

                          “ ..  sorry wat was that" 

I’m positive that if I did, it’d either curse me or give me an illness of sorts.
The gold is being used for other things, more resourceful purposes. I do
not need to dress myself in it nor anyone ought to take whiff of its scent.

THANK YOUUUUUUUU MY HONEY ;v; <33

( 259 ) well were both here to meet a mutual friend to hang out but they dropped out last second and this is awkward as shit huh  

He was just about to leave. That sounded terrible on script, but Thorin had just stated he actually would not be able to make it so that they should just reschedule. But whoever had the audacity to cancel 5 minutes before said meeting time was rather despicable. And in truth, that was precisely why Bard had thought if he left in time, he could leave before Thranduil showed up because heck. They’d never really met before, and he didn’t know much about the man other than a few vague details that everyone else knew and— too late. There’s the sound of arrival, and he’s here, he’s here, it’s too late to abort mission. “Don’t know if you got the memo, but Thorin isn’t coming after all, so it’s just…. you and me." , 

( 289 ) Neither of them are patients in hospital, they are both visiting loved ones—one may be grieving a loss

There’s something that he hated the hospital. Bard didn’t go often, only thrice when his wife had conceived, and never since. The feeling is gloom and eerie, but there’s smiles from some patients. And he decided then and there, that the worst thing must be how some nurses and doctors lost the empathetic side due to the career choice, because that’s what the people need the most in this moment. The elevator ride halted, and he’s no longer alone, a brunette stepping inside too. He can’t help it, he’s curious and looked to the side where it listed all the floors and he asked easily, “Which floor?” 

( 234 ) Muse A has been missing for 10 years. One afternoon, Muse B gets a voicemail of Muse A saying they are coming home.

He’s left feeling stunned, cold, like someone had dumped a bucket over his head because there’s this uncanny, memorized phone number that’s shown to have called him in the past hour. Worse, there’s a voice mail left behind. Bard’s afraid to press play. He needed a good pinching to tell him that this was one of his strange surreal daydreams. But the need to know overrode everything else and he pressed play.  
           It’s that soothing voice of honey, that he knew too well. And he dropped his phone right then and there. “I’m coming home.” As if time had been a charade for the past decade. Bard called back, and the telephone, it rang unlike the dead deactivated line it had been when he used to try out of habit to call, her name was still left in his phone. How a part of him never let go. 

                                                                 “ Hello ?”

( 191 )  Lost in a small town trying to find a relatives house. Cute local helps!

Bard was helplessly lost. It was a good thing he bid his children a proper farewell, and told Bain he was in charge, for if he never returned home, at least things were slightly orderly. That’s a terrifyingly, somber thought that he must dispel from his thoughts. There’s a cottage in the woods that gives him hope, and knocked gingerly, caution fleeting him because the only thing worse than a trap inside this cottage, was a cottage in the depth of the woods. Whoever gave him these directions ought to be banished from existence. His paranoia had him spewing nonsense now, leaving him rather speechless when a maiden opened the door. 

                                         "Sorry for pestering you, but I’m rather– .. lost.“