sight of peace

indie tolkien oc / penned by elena.

[alassofesteldin]

Quick Character Bio

NAME: SIDHEN (s. sight of peace)

AGE: 81 (by the time of LOTR)

BORN: Esteldin, North Downs

OCCUPATION: Messenger, Sentry, Ranger

APPEARANCE: Light Skin, Dark Hair, Green Eyes

RACE: human, dúnedain

ALIGNMENT: Lawful Good

SEXUALITY: Lesbian

FACECLAIM: Melanie Stone   

FIC: BY THE FIRE

AESTHETIC

COMPLETE BIO

[alassofesteldin]

“My lord, Elladan!” she said, and bowed deeply before the elf-lord. “I bring tidings from my kin. Where is your lord father?”

@peredhellen​​

[dunadaneth]

Some brief character studies of @vezely‘s wonderful Vezely of Rhûn :) Had a blast with these any may do more in the future, she’s a tough bih to draw! What an incredibly complex and intricate character. She’s been on my mind lately and deserves to have attention brought to her.

[alassofesteldin]

vezely​:

The stream of words flowing from Sidhen’s mouth causes the estranged elleth pause, but not due to her glibness. Rather it is the mapped actualization of her mused consideration on other kingdoms’ reconstruction and trade. The meticulousness of steps and parties involved in the woman’s elaboration show thought to what essentially is a non pressing query. Teeth bites on the gold end of her pipe, letting it hang from her mouth as free hand fiddles with the cuff of her black cloak’s sleeve. Under single lifted brow, sight corners again at the woman once more.

❝ An elf or not, time is still not worth being wasted, ❞ despite the pipe, wry voice mumbles not. ❝ And that question posed by one such as myself would be wasting time for many of participants, missives included. ❞ For her, the Lady of Imladris is only a title, and decisively not one including involvement in matters of import ( more so, out of respect for those knowledgeable of her past ). These curiosities remain only her own. ❝ I am certain such information will find me organically through my husband’s exploits or others who might visit Imladris in the future. It still surprises me how disconnected many realms are despite this king’s call for unification. ❞

“It is a time of change, that I know.” Sidhen dared not voice her true thoughts, lest she forget her place. For she was in the company of a high-lady and already she feared that she had babbled too much. Rue her mouth and her flurry of words, for she talked much when she was nervous. “Of many realms, I know little. I know not their tidings. But I know much of my beloved north.”

“For I was a ranger of the north before the great battle of the south, and so were many of my kin. But now there is no north and south evermore, as it is a kingdom reunited. Will some men of Gondor come to dwell here, in the harsh northern lands? Will my kin find wives and husbands to the south? And the blood of Arnor shall mingle with that of Gondor once more? Perhaps my king shall say the north needs no rangers, and he shall call us to the south to face what enemies remain. One thing stands certain. When this city will be rebuilt, many will walk across the great green road and many shall find a friend in new lands. That I hope...”

[alassofesteldin]

dunadaneth​:

        Another fit of laughter shook her shoulders at the fellow rangers display, dismissing her worries with a wave of her hand. “Don’t even worry about it, Sidhen. The walk did me good to fill it up again.” It seemed her teasing had its intended effect. “I just wanted to give you a hard time, is all. Though it seems like you’ve had enough of it already, by my reckoning,” she added, taking a sip from her own mug.

         A nod met her words as she listened, stirring her food in her bowl before taking a spoonful. “I know what you mean.” Gone were the days, it seemed, where there was time for oneself and pleasure. She missed sitting in a field with a cold drink and food, reading to her hearts content. This life seldom offered the time for such.

        “All work and no rest is sure to wear any of us out.” She too longed for a rest. “At the very least, I’ve found something I like doing. Gardening is tough work, but enjoyable.” She brought the rim of her mug to her lips, nursing the drink for a bit, before eyeing Sidhen curiously. “What do you like to do, in your free time?”

“Créa, tease me not!” she said with laughter. Then, she nodded in return and mused but for a little. She stood deep in thought, and wrinkles came upon her brow. “’Much easier to know what I may not enjoy, for that is much.”

Then she spoke, and spoke she did and many words she said.

“I could never be a scholar, for one. All those dusty... musty tomes bore me to death. Nearly asleep now, just thinking about reciting the entire genealogy of the kings and scions of Arnor.

Then never shall I be the crafts-woman my mother is. My patience fails me. Sitting still for so long, sewing and tanning the leather and painting and... I could never!

Love in my heart for the animals of this earth, I bear little. I love them, for they deserve their land and their life, but look to me not for falconry or dog-breeding. And the horses... I fear horses above all, Créa. Strange creatures, with their dark eyes and their long legs.” she shuddered. “Sooner would I walk a thousand miles, than ride upon them.

I love dancing, and music and glancing at the night-sky. Best I love the company of others, their stories and us playing games together. I know my father traded some of our crafts for a curious dwarven game. It has a box - a board he said, and some pieces made of stone.”

[alassofesteldin]

sometimes I’m just getting on with my business and then suddenly I’m hit with the true horror of the road of the grey company

[alassofesteldin]

Why is Sidhen a messenger and not a guard or a sentry? 

Well, it might have something to do with the fact that every time she gets put on Shire patrol, Halbarad or the Commanding Officer finds her with Toram in the Golden Perch Inn in Stock, or in The Plough and Stars in Brockenborings or in The Floating Log Inn in Frogmorton or... you get the gist of it

[a-wandering-elf]

An Elf Wanders (day 8): Lake Evendim

[alassofesteldin]

vezely​:

Sight corners on the she-ranger, considering next steps should she choke but her lungs pull through. It is a wonder she does not cough during her struggle. Kretek takes some adjustment — at least she is told this by discerning peddlers cautioning their buyers in front of their market stalls. Recently, it is only with the foreign accent in her assurances rather than her garb that they readily accept her coin, speaking no more. 

❝ That is unfortunate. ❞ Comments she in regard to the hoarding of goods rather than the prior losses. To one astute in trade dynamics, withholding a luxury item rather than raising the cost seems a missed opportunity. Though isolationists rarely capitalize on such things, she considers, taking another inhale of the heady smoke.

Upon noticing the other’s ignited interest, the elleth lets an elbow come to rest on the balcony, leaning into it as she faces her. ❝ I am familiar enough, ❞ having spent some time prior the war in the region blessed by Rhûnaer’s gentle breezes. ❝ Dorwinion is split between east and west, not by territory alone but by its people. The Rouadengi, or Dorwinionrim as Gondorians still seem to call them, ❞ she corrects herself, ❝ Their descent is mixed but always they seem to lean on their Northron cousins. Their trade benefits from this, finding purchase westward though not always eastward. The kings of Mistrand refuse to serve their wine at their table, calling it no better than water. ❞ A chuckle catches her throat, recalling her time spent as emissary in the halls of the Lôke-Khan where Dorwinion wine was nowhere to be found. ❝ I wonder how they are fairing since the war. If trade has been reestablished between them and Eryn Lasgalen. ❞

“That is a question to which an answer may be found. If only you are willing to wait, my lady.” Such were the tidings of war, that even after its end the future remained unclear. The dúnadaneth could recall a discussion as to the state of Rhovanion between some of her kin, but the names of its settlements and kingdoms were nothing more than words on a map to her. Eriador was her home and she had never left it. Turning her head in surprise, Sidhen quickly added to her remark.

“But what am I saying. You are of the elf-kind. Time is all that you have.” Quite silly of her to presume a firstborn was not used to waiting. After all, a hundred years was but a drop of water in the sea for them. “King Elessar is truest of friends with the Prince of the Woodland Realm. He would know the answer to your question. A missive would take many weeks to reach Minas Tirith, then even more to be brought to the attention of the king. But should you wish, your question will receive an answer.” she continued quite amused. 

[alassofesteldin]

“I must thank you.” Sidhen said, merrily gulping down the remainder of her ale. Before her stood the remnants of what had been a delicious meal. “Such hospitality is rare these days.”

[alassofesteldin]

I really like the fact that I can just... allow my character to have some negative traits. I love sprinkling hints to them in my replies. Like, Sidhen is sometimes immature, she is selfish, she is jealous, she fails to see the bigger picture. That doesn’t mean they shadow the good traits, just that they compliment them.

[alassofesteldin]

dunadaneth​:

      Créa laughed at the haste at which Sidhen moved when her mother called to her; she too remembered doing the same when called (though truthfully she was not much older than the fellow ranger at all). She knew Sidhen longed for freedom and soon she would get it, knew what it was like to be held back when there was so much to do and see. But she could also not help but feel as though Sidhen was lucky…she had both her parents. Not many of their kind could say the same.

        But she shook the thought away, smiling to herself as she picked up the empty waterskin forgotten on the stone fence, and made her way down to the well to fill it back up and resume her duties.

        When dinner came she sat alone, as the others had departed before her. The food wasn’t terrible, but she ate it before it got cold. It would have to do. At the very least, she had her stash of food hidden away in her room…

        Her thoughts were interrupted as someone sat down next to her, a familiar, and welcome sight as Créa turned to see. “Sidhen! You did say that. I completely forgot.” She laughed, turning to face the other woman. It was good to have company, and she gave her a knowing Look, eyes glinting with mischief. “Just as you forgot to refill my waterskin.”

A sound between an eek and a cough followed Créa’s words, as Sidhen tried to swallow the bite of food she had just taken. The mention of her forgotten promise had surprised her so, that food got stuck in her throat. Her face reddened and the dúnadaneth started coughing. Desperately, her hand searched for her wooden mug, which was filled to the brim with clear water. A couple gulps later, and she breathed normally once more.

The call of her mother had completely erased the memory of the waterskin from her mind. 

“Still empty, then?” she replied with a pained smile. “Créa, even the food is trying to do me in.” With a small pout, Sidhen put the bowl of mushed peas away. Somehow her appetite had vanished. Her eyes fell on the waterskin. “Should you wish, I shall go straightaway and fill it for you.” 

One last task, she thought. 

“I swear these duties are never ending. Valar forbid one should rest in this settlement. If there are no cleaning duties, one must cook. If the meals are ready, one must craft. If there are no materials, one must train. If the training is done, one must hunt. Where is the part when one must rest?”

[propalahramota]

[alassofesteldin]

what’s your underlying motif?

the home

whether it’s your warm embrace, your unwavering reliability, your smile that says “welcome back”, your motif is the home. your the equivalent to coming out of the rain to the fire on and your slippers waiting by the door. your uncanny way of making people feel alright, you’re treasured in these trying times. i respectfully request you take care of yourself, the world will never been as kind to you as you are to it. anne lammott said “lighthouses don't go running all over an island looking for boats to save; they just stand there shining” and though unconventional, lighthouses are inhabited and your cup runs over with generosity. because you probably don’t hear it enough, thank you.

Tagged by: @vezely <3

[alassofesteldin]

gemyndig​:

Eyes fixed upon the dancing flames Elfhild tried to calm her racing thoughts. She was far from the path she set out upon and the road ahead seemed to grow longer and longer with every step she took. Yet she was not lost entirely, had a fire to warm her cold bones, and an unfortunate fish to be her meal. There was still hope her task could be accomplished. 

She sighed, shifting her weight to a more comfortable position in front of the campfire when she heard something. Or did she just mis — A stranger appeared at the edge of her camp and Elfhild scrambled to her feet. Startled and confused. Her dagger, the only weapon she possessed was on the other side of the fire, too far from her reach. And she scolded herself for such a mistake.  “I did not think I would stumble upon any rangers, even in such friendly lands”, came her shy reply. But her stance relaxed as she saw who was approaching her. No creature of the forest Wumba had warned her about, no armed highwayman either, as it seemed. “But yes, lately luck is all I have left. Luck and this poor dead fish”, with a sigh she motioned to the carcass cooking above the flame, “So there is not much to take from me. I am willing to share what I have, though” The ghost of a smile flickered upon her lips.

“No need!” with a composed stance, SIdhen approached the fire and sat down. With nimble fingers the dúnadaneth unfurled her satchel and produced a bread, some hard cheese and fresh berries she had picked just that day. “I might make you the same offer.” she continued, pointing towards her food. “Not that your fish doesn’t look just... tempting.” 

With a mouthful of cheese and warming herself by the fire, Sidhen listened for any nearby sounds. The two of them were the only two edain in these fields, or the Valar help her. “I am Sidhen of the North-downs and you find yourself in southern Bree-land, no kinder land one could forage for food. There are sweet-water rivers in the fields nearby. Swallow indeed, but home to the tastiest perch or carp you can imagine.”

“Tell me, your accent... it’s southern. What brings you north?”

[alassofesteldin]

dunadaneth​:

        Her hand she waved at the gesture of filling the water skin, not concerned with it right at this moment, though she appreciated it all the same. The wind felt cool on her skin, clouds traveling across the sky to give them shade, and Créa listened as she spoke of the lands Sidhen wanted to visit herself.

“Bree’s a wonderful choice,” she replied, “it’s not too different from our settlements. Bigger, but just unfamiliar enough to be exciting.” The markets were wonderful too, should one be lucky enough to visit on days where foreign traders came to sell their wares. It was a spot frequented often by the Rangers, though her expression softened with the memory of the people there.

“I should warn you though, that the people of Bree hold little fondness for our kin,” she said, brows knit, “they’re not always outwardly…rude, but don’t expect to be greeted with open arms. Though I’m sure you know this already.” It was not necessarily a secret that most all who they protected did not enjoy or want their presence. If only they had known just who it was who kept them safe sleeping in their beds at night, how their tunes would change. But it was not to be.

But instead she waved the thought away, a small smile tugging on the corner of her lips. “Saeradan would love the company, I’m sure. He loves seeing us young rangers. He needs to company!” He was the only one she knew that owned his own home, and she marveled at it. “You’ll get to visit all those places in due time, I promise. And it’s even more wonderful than you’d expect. And who knows- maybe I’ll even join you on some of those travels.” There was no jest there. It was a wonderful world, for all the good and the bad it held, and she knew the freedom to roam it would be a wonderful thing, come Sidhen’s initiation.

“My heart would gladden so!” Indeed the heart of Sidhen thrilled for the time she would finally leave Esteldin and travel and see the world’s marvels, but even so how could such sights gladden her, if she were to see them alone? In the courtyard below a sharp call echoed and Sidhen gave but one look beneath before sighing. Her mother strode forth with a look most displeased.

“Ah Créa, duty calls.” Gathering her bearing, the young woman raced to the path that descended into the courtyards. “I shall find you on the break of eve!” she shouted to the other dúnadaneth before disappearing below. In but a few moments, one could hear the spirited words being exchanged between mother and daughter.  

As such things do, day turned into night and at the last cry of the rooster, the sentries at the eastern and westerns gates of Esteldin changed. Sidhen strode through the crafting hall of the settlement with a bowl of mushed peas with minced onions in her hands, looking for her mother. The spot where her mother had worked on several sturdy leather pouches was at the back of the hall, for Ioraen mother of Sidhen was a crafts-woman. Sidhen gave her mother the food, then made her way back to the kitchens.

Taking a bowl for herself, she sat down at an wooden table beside Créa and started hungrily digging into the mixture. “I said I would find you.”

[arafins]

 - Candaith -

I’m out of here gross sobbing bye