#abrazimir

[immortalmuses]

“All in all Boromir is finding that he dislikes elves.”

@abrazimir I know you wrote this lovely and eloquent reply to our thread but i gotta be honest i haven’t gotten past the first line because i’ve been laughing my ass off for five minutes

[melnchly-a]

@abrazimir didn’t ask for this (and is under no obligation to continue it) but i just absolutely had to: 

          one of the green ribbons is winding through her fingers, chin cupped in the palm of her other hand. she isn’t moping, though there is a downward tilt to her mouth, a pensive furrow to her brow. had she not been doing everything right? had she not all but proclaimed to all of gondor (surely to all of dol amroth!) how she felt, and yet... 

          she sighs, turning her gaze from ribbon to open window (sunlight and the roar of the sea beyond) and then to her cousin, something plainly on her mind although she does not speak it - not yet. another moment, and then another, and then: “boromir?” her cheeks have warmed already, a blush she can feel, and it catches the words in her throat before she can speak them. it had been as bold a thing as she had ever done, this step, and now she finds herself doubting it, nearly regretting it. her voice is soft and small and so unsure: “have i made a fool of myself?” 

[elfstone-a]

me making a post-it note addendum in my notes copy of rotk: actually, aragorn died relatively young when boromir (who survived) vaulted him from the keel when the king wouldn’t stop rushing to pull out his brother’s chairs for him

[moltolavoro]

@abrazimir | starter call !! | gimli 

they take turns at the watch ; two at a time. and even the elf, it seems, needs rest but once in a moon cycle. and so gimli finds himself with boromir, whom he has come to admire and yet whom he cannot quite understand. humans have such small lifespans, and yet they choose adventures like this, where death is all but a certainty and the promise of glory is not a promise at all.

the balance fascinates gimli.

the fire between them has burned low, and gimli reaches to stoke it with a log, chopped by his own axe, though that is certainly not its purpose. the nights are not too cold, and they are trying to keep out of sight, but a small fire cannot be begrudged. besides, they have not reached dangerous territory yet.

❛ a fine sword you have, master boromir. ❜ gimli’s voice is gruff in the twilight, and yet it is clear enough to be understood. ❛ its balance seems formidable. you use it as an extension of yourself. ❜

[starsspin-a]

         “And what are you going to do?” There’s an arched brow, as arms cross over his chest. “Throw me in another fountain?” He cannot help but smirk, it hues to not be so easy to stand toe to toe with his brother, a man who once seemed so much larger. Sure he could still easily toss him over his shoulder if he wished, but Faramir too was not the straggly young teen he once had been. Both with age and height he had grown rather bold.  “You know I’m right, just admit it.”

@abrazimir ;; faramir starter call

[vezely-a]

A failed incursion is what it is. A truce drawn, forces at a standstill, men bloodied and broken, nothing won but enough lost in this abandoned land of North Ithilien. Reinforcements could be easily drawn, orcs fed through the plains of Gorgoroth, but such is not the empire’s preoccupation. These rabbles are only diversions from the West acknowledging the mass preparations for a greater war to come.

Black banners hail the arrival of one crow from Mordor’s keep ( what the Variags call emissaries for their black hooded garb ). The symbol of the Cult of the Eye outlined in red is prominent on a few, though it is not the spiritual but the material wealth of the empire, its territories and their expansion, that emissaries propagate as mouths of their Master. Today, it is to set the terms of the truce alongside the Captain in charge ( that and Captain Usa’s Westron is appalling ).

Before dismounting the Mordorian steed, black hood is cast down to reveal a pale face, sharp angles, and stark eyes painted in black kohl. The tall woman, thin in build but far from frail in stance, seeks Captain Usa first. A dip of her chin is offered in greeting — he requested her, trusts her, and so she obliged to help guide these talks. No words are exchanged at first, only an acknowledgment of a professional bond already tested and proven worthy. But as she strides alongside him and his second-in-command in a gait as strong as the seasoned warriors themselves, a wry remark akin to ❛ you are going to owe me a drink ❜ in Varadjia ( his native tongue ) causes the Captain to smirk.

Gondor’s banners soon greet their own at the entrance of a makeshift tent prepared on neutral ground. There, Men of the West await their advance, no doubt tarried by her arrival. ❝ Mordor appreciates your patience, Captain-General. ❞  In Westron, accented but fluent, a coarse voice greets them. Grey eyes, unmoved but present, dead but full of zeal, make purchase on the established demeanor of the one presumed in charge. ❝ As you may be aware, it is customary for an emissary to assist in negotiations. Shall we begin? ❞ ( plotted starter // @abrazimir )

[valorshwn]

✉

oh poor faramir was never loved by denethor and all he wanted was his father’s love

yeah okay denethor isn’t winning any father of the year awards here. but denethor tried. also faramir was an adult who made the choice to become distant from his father, it was a two way street there, so they are equally at fault if i’m being honest. he knows where he stands with his father. faramir disagrees with denethor on a lot of things, and on things he is not going to change his mind on. and yeah there are some things later on that he regretted when it came to the relationship with his father. but he knew his father cared, in his own way and even if denethor wasn’t the best at showing it. and faramir is a lot more like denethor than people like to think, he wasn’t this hopeless boy who wanted his dad’s attention.  

[melnchly-a]

📂📂📂 You know who I wanna hear about uwu

jshdfjsdf c’mon erran how i am i supposed to guess ??? 

📂: i’ve spoken a lot about lothíriel’s relationship with and love of her father but let me just tell you that little girl?? wanted to be nothing else than JUST LIKE her mother. she followed after her as often as she could, grew up wanting to be just like her, and as an adult often turns to her for guidance and council in all things. 

📂: there was a group of children from dol amroth that she more or less grew up with, mostly the children of her father’s friends who were roughly of the same age. of these, she was closest with another girl and a boy whose heart she broke when she declared, at the age of six, that she was never going to marry anybody. the group remained close through adulthood, and there were no hard feelings for the broken heart of their childhood, though there was a joke passed between them about it when news of lothíriel’s betrothal came. 

📂: some of her favorite foods are figs and pomegranates

Send “📂“ for a random yet completely useless headcanon I have (ACCEPTING)