//...there are no words, except one: Always.
Thank you, Alan. Thank you for everything.

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@healerofimladris
//...there are no words, except one: Always.
Thank you, Alan. Thank you for everything.
//This is the best thing ever and no one can tell me otherwise. Nice moves Thranduil! (Totally tagging you, m’dear, @regnumverus )
artaresto replied to your post: anonymous asked:Hirvet är in the ...
// Minä se vaan
//Tiesinhän! >:] Syyllinen on löytynyt. <3 Ei sen puoleen, metässähän ne mooset on.
Hirvet är in the metsä
//Noni. Vem siellä sörtsiis hirviä metästä?
[Loves on you
//*loves you back*
//*SCREAMS!* There’s an Elros in my inbox. ALERT ALERT FULL ALERT THERE IS AN ELROS IN MY INBOX. TWIN FEELS!
@elroskingofnumenor I see you! And I see your message is a month old... eeeep sorry! I’ll try my best to pick up my game asap. ;__;
//Guess who met with regnumverus yesterday? Aaayup! It as so great to finally meet her! Let’s do this again some time, m’dear, when I come back, yes? Or! You could visit Helsinki and then I can take you out into the woods. Mwhaahaha!
healerofimladris
”My lord Elrond.”
He was his father of course, foremost, then his teacher and his guidance and the respect Estel held for him knew no bounds. But they were not alone, the man required the luxury of privacy to dare address the peredhel with anything but his title. The library was quiet at this time of the young night.
”I believe this is the book you sought. I had borrowed it.”
He saw Erestor shake the raven head some shelves further away and cleared his throat, brushing his palm over his throat, scratchy and rugged from the stubble that had begun to cover his features. Thankfully the advisor left with a bow of his head and they were alone with the beam of moonlight streaming through the window.
Always so formal. His little Estel. Though Elrond considered the other as his son and would not mind to be called father, he knew Estel himself preferred the safety of formality when in public. Then again Elrond had some doubts whether such mannerisms were brought on by the teachings of a certain advisor who quickly left the scene or whether Estel had simply adopted them on his own initiative.
“Ah, indeed. Thank you, Estel. Did you find it interesting?”
Some Alone Time | healerofimladris
Though Elrond might have already had the necessary time to perfect the mask that hid behind it all those feelings swelling inside him, he was not yet a master of all of his emotions. His age did him no favors either given that he happened to live through the time in which all emotions felt stronger and had a bigger impact on him than he would have wanted. It was the age when the road to independence started and no matter that the ellon had been independent - together with his brother - for quite some time now, he still had to go through these rough times.
So, since he did not have complete control over himself, it was fairly easy to see through the small cracks of his mask whenever something unexpected happened. Such was the case now too, when the elleth turned their speech towards war. Oh no. Wasn’t this exactly the subject Elrond was trying so hard to avoid?
"War has hardly robbed me of anything. War simply exists. It is the decisions of others during the times of war that are the cause of all the hurt." Had his birth parents not decided to abandon the twins… oh, that was a thought Elrond had entertained for far too long and he hoped he could stop asking himself it. If and why. Two words that often started thoughts worse than any poison in the world for when left unanswered and thought upon for too long, they created a vicious cycle of doubt and anger.
Elrond took his hand to the book on his lap. Though he enjoyed reading the lorebooks, he had unfortunately already seen the blatant truth that had to be taken into consideration each time one read a book about the past: someone had written it and that someone rarely was on the losing side. History had always been told with the mouths of those who came on top for those who perished never got a chance to tell their version of the course of events that led to their demise. Such was the situation even now with the Fëanorions and the fact that history would always see them as nothing but pure evil…
Elrond lowered his gaze. She was still speaking but the ellon did not hear her. His carefully constructed mask crumbled as the smile slowly disappeared from his face upon his realization. Even thousands of years from now all that would be said of his father would be filled with hatred.
Oh, it was strange to hear someone so young speak like someone so old. She would expect someone her own age to speak in such a manner or to have such an outlook on life. The First Age had hardly been kind to any of them but he was still young, all things considered.
“You have always sounded far older than you are, in fact, you sound more like —“ she cut herself off abruptly when she nearly compared him to his adopted fathers. They had always had a more pragmatic approach to life, but they had age and experience on their side: two things that Elrond did not.
Belenwen glanced over as she saw the facade fall apart as he lowered his gaze and his chin tucked closer to his chest. She inched a little closer before draping an arm around his shoulders, squeezing at the outside of his arm. “You may say it has not robbed you, but trust someone older and presumably wiser,” she chuckled but the sound was devoid of humor or warmth. “It was the decisions of my generation that caused this existence for you.”
Glancing down to the book, she frowned at the subject matter inscribed upon the spine. “They were my friends, you know,” her voice was little more than a whisper and clearly meant for him and only him. “As I said, if you happen upon a book with notes in the margin … it was most likely my doing.” Somewhere, she knew her mother would be both proud and enraged by the habit.
“You are not alone in thinking of them fondly and missing them terribly.”
At first the young ellon flinched when he felt the other's touch, yet he soon leaned into it. No matter how hard Elrond tried to be independent, he often found himself craving for comfort and affection. In a way Elros seemed to be so much stronger than he was, though Elrond knew his twin merely had a different way of dealing with the things they had been through. Whereas Elros found his escape at the docks, working long days until he was so exhausted he simply collapsed in bed, Elrond sought solace in books and inside his mind. Unfortunately more often than not this caused an avalanche of raw emotions that found no way out and each day that passed, Elrond had to try and raise the walls that kept it all in even higher.
Elrond squeezed the book tighter in his arms as if somehow he could do the same to the very memory of his foster fathers. "Don't..." he whispered, as if afraid someone might hear them - or perhaps he was simply more afraid of his own reaction, should he allow himself to show his grief.
"We are alone. Such feelings are forbidden, frowned upon and belittled. They should not exist and can not be real. Clearly we are simply traumatized by the whole ordeal." As he spoke, there was bitterness in his voice. No matter that the habit terrified the young ellon, Elrond had already mastered the art of turning pain into anger when it became too much to handle. "No one could possibly miss kinsl-..." No. He could never call them that. Never.
Caranthir noted the clenched fists, the tight jaw, the tautness of Elrond’s very form, and did not have to wonder at it. He was blood kin, this half-elf who’d chosen the elven life, but more than that he was Maglor’s son. Maedhros’s son. He was Finwë’s descendant, and Fëanor’s, by adoption and by nurture and tutelage. Caranthir did not have to look far to see the kinship to himself in this one before him.
"You are a healer, I am told," he said slowly, in mild tones. "And yet also you have gone to war. Have lifted a blade, have spilled blood, have taken lives that you might live. My people once said that killing made one unable to heal. Perhaps you are an exception, or perhaps in these latter days so much is diminished that the old axani no longer hold true."
He paused, dropping his eyes a moment, and then looked back at Elrond with a flash of rare openness upon his face and in his tone. “You are a healer and you have gone also to war. You know that killing is a sickness in the soul. That such trauma leaves scars deeper far than the ones upon flesh. Those who survive are still — changed. Those who must kill, and kill, and kill again? It hollows something out in you. Severs something vital. Maglor, for all that he was a good and kind person, was at need a killer as cold and cruel as any of us. If he seeks solitude, it may well be for that reason. Because he is scoured empty and cold, and all the warmth of Imladris cannot fill him, and it hurts to know it.”
The anger that had made its way to the Lord's face soon made way for desperation. Only those with sharp perception could see the change on his creased brow. It was impossible to even imagine Maglor empty and void of all the love and care and kindness he had given the twins. Yet had Elrond not done something similar after the war where Gil-Galad had perished? He had himself sought out solitude and pushed away those he loved in his attempt to protect them from being poisoned by his broken soul. No one in such a state ever thought they could be healed, yet instead of gaping wounds in his soul, Elrond now only carried the healed scars of it all. Perhaps the same could be done for poor Maglor?
Then again, not all wounds can be healed and Elrond didn't dare to think how it would affect him, should he fail to heal Maglor. It was unthinkable should he be faced with a man who used to be so full of love but who was now battle-hardened, broken and cold. Brick by brick the protective walls that held unwanted emotions at bay started to break.
Seeing the look in Caranthir eyes made Elrond unable to turn his head away. The older was talking from experience, that much was clear. Forced to face the blunt truth of what the vow had done to those the lord deemed his blood kin, Elrond sought out a chair. Fearing that his voice might crack if he spoke too loud, his voice was now reduced to a mere whisper: "What kind of a son would I be if I didn't attempt to find him and to care for him like he did for me? If only he'd let me try... Like you said, I am a healer after all. I've managed to cure some wounds left by the war."
Sick Starter Sentences...
“You’re so pale…”
“You’re sick, admit it!”
“I think you should sit down.”
“Bathroom, now.”
“You look like you’re about to pass out.”
“You’ve got a fever!”
“Why are your hands so sweaty?”
“Are you shivering?”
“Hey, I got you…”
“We have to sweat the fever out of you.”
“You have to eat something.”
“I made you some chicken soup.”
“You’re gonna crash.”
“Cover your mouth when you cough!”
“Have you slept at all lately?”
“Hey, Rudolph.”
“Did you just cough– blood?”
“I think we should take you to see a doctor.”
“Can you at least vomit with the door closed?”
“Here, take your medicine.”
“Is there anything I can get from you.”
“Let me take care of you.”
“You can barely stand!”
“Go home and get some rest.”
“How long have you been sick?”
//Guess who saw a choir concert where they sung songs from movies and games, including LotR and the Hobbit? <3
narwafinda replied to your post://I just passed my obligatory oral exam in...
//CONGRATULATIONS!!! :D also why do summer holidays begin so early for you
//Mwahahaah, thanks! Also yes! Awesome, is it not? They start in the beginning of May and last ‘till the beginning of September. True, during May many (like me) will have one or two additional exams to make up for some courses that we have not been able to attend to, but...that’s about it! Four months of freedom (or working at a summer job).
//I just passed my obligatory oral exam in Swedish! :D I was so nervous but it all went surprisingly well. On other news, this is the last week of Uni so summer holidays are soon here. I haven’t forgotten my Tolkien blogs, this year has just been more than crazy. I might spend the first few weeks just doing ALL THE THINGS I’ve been missing out (drawing, making jewelry, watching series, playing Skyrim, what-have-you), but then I’ll also get back to writing.
I’ll go through my drafts and my threads and see what needs to be dropped and what I’ll keep and...yeah. Asfghj I feel so bad because I’ve made all of you wait for me ;__; Sorry.
kingofthelannisterpride
I stand corrected! Excellente! How’s LARPing going now?
//Mwahah! I love my fangs! Custom fitted, small and subtle! They were made for (you guessed it) my musical trips. <3
The actual game takes place tomorrow so I can tell you more then. Now I’m just trying to get used to being Garey. Later today I’ll try out my make-up to make me appear more masculine.
kingofthelannisterpride
Du siehst toll aus! The real question is: do you have fangs?
//Danke! <3 And do I have fangs? Do I have fangs?
narwafinda
// I WANNA DO LARP WITH YOU ):
//COME TO FINLAND WE HAVE NICE LARPS. SOME OF THEM IN ENGLISH TOO.