Discover Top Posts Tagged with #aicasame

■ ☯▼ for Aicasame, ☆ ♦∇ for Lominzil

■ - Aicasame generally prefers wide, open, airy spaces, architecture-wise. she’s not a fan of too many walls or doors, or low ceilings for that matter. so any time she gets to choose or design herself a house or an estate or whatnot, she ends up with lots of courtyards and interconnected rooms that probably could just be one room if not for their being slightly offset, visually distinguished by pillars, so on. she’s minimalist in the sense of having a couple clear main design elements that draw the eye without much else to distract, but at the same time she is a fan of things like really finely detailed edge gilding, embroidery, and such.

☯ - likes and dislikes… one thing Aicasame does really like is the feeling of having accomplished a bunch of stuff very efficiently, such that the rest of the day will go very smoothly and she doesn’t have to worry about much. so this tends to mean getting up early and doing a good portion of the day’s work before early afternoon, that kind of thing. she’s not much a fan of wine, mostly because of the fruit-ish flavour, but she very much enjoys tea (and coffee, which she discovers in Harad); food-wise her favourites tend to be savoury. and when it comes to people doing things for her, she much prefers it when they’re established, everyday sorts of patterns like having her bath drawn before she gets home, compared to either one-off surprises or people asking if she’d like something nice done.

▼ - she spent most of her childhood living at her family’s estate toward the northern half of Aman, and rarely visited Tirion itself until the equivalent of her late teens. rather, most of the interactions she had with other nobles were with her extended family and various friends and political allies they had, or people coming to visit her father. she was a pretty independent kid from early on, and tended to enjoy things like cooking and archery and illuminated manuscripts. and she was an only child until the equivalent of 12-13 or so, which explains some of her relative closeness to her parents (and Vercano, who’s her baby brother) compared to her sister.

☆ - ummmm you said I didn't have to do this so I'm kind of going to cheat and not go very in depth because I'm bad at things but imagine the first time Lomi gets compared to Ancalime ok

♦ - is it weird or entirely off-base to think I could see Lomi enjoying things like cross-stitch? it seems like something that could be either social or more solitary depending on her preference, something requiring skill and that people would be impressed with, but not academic in the same way that Azu or Nilu would be interested in academia. she also strikes me as enjoying more feminine-coded things in general than the rest of her family? not really in a "dainty" way, but sort of like.... idk, an evil au version of an andustalie lady. if that makes any sense.

∇ - ...I have to confess that any image in my head of older!Lominzil is rather indistinguishable from Zorzimril except possibly in the fact that Lomi is less well-adjusted in general. which basically means she gets to be the extremely competent but mostly scary and intimidating old aunt of the new babby king, I guess? I could also see her settling more into being actually married to her husband, like sort of domestic and have-cohabited-for-a-long-time-y, even though of course it's not the usual sort of married relationship.

#an-animal-imagined-by-poe #Lominzil #Aicasame #perfect propaganda babies #that Tatyar horde #headcanoning #no good things for the poor sad elves #memes

Lominzil/Aicasame where Zorzimril and Ardamin ended up living in Umbar rather than becoming king and queen

From her room, Lôminzil has a clear view of the harbor. There it is, just over the long, low roof of her uncles’ warehouses - the water a glassy green, when it can be seen under the restless cover of trim, brightly painted Umbarin ships, and much larger Adûna vessels (floating mountains, they’re called), dark wood and golden paint, all mobbed by white-sailed dhows. She finds the endless circles fascinating, could watch them for hours. Often does. How much gold, how many tons of cloves or saffron or yards of purple cloth pass through the port each day? Lives are bought and sold on those narrow decks. She stretches her hand, experimentally, past the window frame, and cups the harbor in her palm. From here, they look like toys.

***

Her family occupies the western side of one of the oldest and largest houses in Umbar. Their chambers open onto a blue and white tiled courtyard, cooled by a hinged awning in the height of summer, and a circular fountain all throughout the year. It’s functional – the household draws their water there, piped in from the aqueduct – and lavishly decorated, with three women, all in silver, pouring water from golden pitchers into a mosaic basin. On the other side, there are rooms for Uncle Balkazîr, Azruphâzgan and little Gimilbêth, Uriphêl’s family – though she’s more often in Rómenna – and grandmother and grandfather. And great-grandmother, when she comes.

***

It’s five days journey – four across open desert – to the oasis town where her great-grandmother was born, and has since retired. They make the journey twice a year without fail, for her birthday, for which she is morose, and the anniversary of great-grandfather’s death – for which she is self-satisfied, strangely melancholy, and, for reasons best known to herself, deathly wary of figs. Great-grandmother has visited them exactly once. On this occasion, she established herself in a cushioned chair in the courtyard, beneath a row of ornamental citrus trees, and reviewed the family finances until both grandfather and Balkazîr were reduced to tears.

She comes for the second time the summer before Lôminzil turns thirty. Amind the usual flurry of servants and accountants and various functionaries, there is a noble visitor.

***

“The Lady Aicasáme, of the First House of the Tatyar, sworn to the House of Fëanáro, and late of Eregion.”

The others rise and incline their heads. It’s a family party. Azruphâzgan, equal parts smitten and overwhelmed, bows from the waist. She does not deign to look at him.

Aicasáme has placed herself beside great-grandmother. She leans over and whispers in her ear from time to time, or taps her wrist with long, elegant fingers. No one else at the table dares address her, and Aicasáme in turn does find them worthy of address. Lôminzil, on her right, passes the meal in silent observation.

***

“You play chess?”

Azûlzir drops his queen in astonishment. The ivory piece rolls off the table and across the carpet before either of them can formulate a response. “Clearly – I mean to say, yes – yes, my lady. Do you play Haradric chess – or, I’ve always wondered, is there an Amanyar equivalent? It’s theorized that our ancestors first learned the game from a southern clan of Tatyar Avari, which I can’t say I give much credence, but if -“

Aicasáme waves him silent, and favors Lôminzil with a rare, sardonic smile. “Your brother is …inquisitive.” Lôminzil nods, once, and kicks Azûlzir sharply under the table. He glares at her, but takes the cue to exit. Aicasáme folds onto the cushions in his place, the lost queen clasped between her thumb and forefinger.

“Shall we play a game?”

“You honor me by your offer, my lady.”

“Oh, I know.” She waits for Lôminzil to re-order the board.

***

Lôminzil feels a row of sharpened fingernails on her shoulder.

“Lady Aicasáme.” She closes her notebook, taking time to let the ink dry, and replaces it in the desk before turning to face her. “I thought you had gone sailing, with the others. Why the change of plans?”

“It has been two hundred years since I have seen this ocean.”

That’s not an answer. Lôminzil decides to meet her gaze. It’s bright, painfully so. “Afraid that the sea-longing will take you? Don’t be. We send ships up to Pelargir regularly. From there, it’s easy enough to make your way to Mithlond.”

She flinches away instinctively, expecting rage, but Aicasáme is still staring past her. Out onto the bay. Five minutes pass, ten, a quarter of an hour. No one speaks. The fingers on her shoulder tighten.

Aicasáme’s voice, when she replies, is uncharacteristically soft. “A different sort of longing, little princess.” She can just make out the outline of Anadûnê, in the setting sun.

#lominzil #aicasame #best aduna royal family #that tatyar horde #sorry james i'm stealing your tag #also sorry about the long setup here #I kind of fell in love with the visuals #I promise it won't happen again #provisional great-grandmother tag #my fic #misadventures in arda #paradife-loft #anadûnê

but so I've definitely had a ton of difficulty trying to figure out what would be a decent transliteration of Aicasáme's name for regular use in Beleriand - out of universe, I think sáme is probably a later word to be created, as it's sourced to the osanwe essay in VT, and doesn't have a thusfar attested form in PE or Thindarin - and while it's frustrating because I highly doubt every other person ever would call her by her Quenya name, and thus I'd like to have the Thindarin transliteration for fic/worldbuilding purposes and whatnot...

I mean it's kind of fitting, really. Aicásame and her family would be damned before giving up their native language. and she is not a diplomat. when it comes to politics, she'll take a look at threats, at the requirement that she take the cowed, penitent, moral high ground... and just sneer at them, and bowl them over with the force of her personality and back-to-Cuiviénen populism.

like hell she's mutilating her name to appease the people who would see her language destroyed. like. hell.

#headcanoning #Aicasame #no good things for the poor sad elves #that Tatyar horde #Cuitalle and Leraisse and Ilcaravo end up having to take Thindarin names in Nargothrond because it'd just be impossible not to #it makes them rather grumpy

Sorry to be cliche buttttt hyelinde (and aicasame if you’re up to it) 2, 4, 5, 8, 14, 16, 18, 20! (its a lot but its just a cool meme?? omg)

under a cut because loooooong

#crocordile #Hyellinde #Aicasame #ask a James #memes #headcanoning.#that Tatyar horde #no good things for the poor sad elves

an-animal-imagined-by-poe replied to your post:Aicasame, 7, 8, 20

And suddenly Aicasame/Entire Aduna Royal Line makes perfect sense

doesn't it just >:3

(do you even want to know how absurdly adorable in kind of a sketchy politics-y way she is with a younger Ancalime I mean I just -- !!!)

#an-animal-imagined-by-poe #content is for other people #Aicasame

Aicasame, 7, 8, 20

7. What is the biggest mistake they’ve ever made?

it's debatable whether it's a "mistake" exactly, rather than something she beats herself up for that it's not really fair to expect her to have predicted, but - leading forces in the Pass of Aglon, rather than further north at Himring, prior to the Bragollach - because if she'd been with the northern armies, so the logic goes, she would have been able to save her parents when the fires came. (also, probably waiting to see instead of running Annatar out of Eregion off the bat. even if he was bad news for a different reason than she suspected, it remains - never trust an Ainu.)

8. What mistake(s) do they continue to make/have not learned from?

holding people at arm's length mostly. it takes a while for her to feel comfortable not being formal and somewhat guarded with anybody new she meets. and so as her family dies around her - she gets lonely, and it's hard. and it just... never much occurs to her that hey, this is a thing you could change, just be a bit friendlier and open up some? (I think she's best at being more open with people when there's a certain age difference dynamic where she's the older, more authoritative one who the other person looks to for advice, or something like that. which... explains some things.)

20. What is a self-inflicted misery of theirs? (i.e. something they perpetuate themselves)

tying in with earlier, she has a lot of survivor's guilt. even when she has exactly what she wanted in coming to Middle-earth (or something similar, er, considering. yeah), she has a tendency to dwell on the people she's lost, and feel somewhat adrift and generally not entirely worthy of being the one who's left, because she feels like she's not really keeping her house alive. for all that she is very comfortable as a leader, I do think that being the only one at the top, the highest person there is with nobody else to look to and feel enmeshed in a structure with, is unsettling and something she spends more time wading around in than is really good for her.

#ask a James #memes #an animal imagined by poe #no good things for the poor sad elves #Aicasame #that Tatyar horde #headcanoning #an-animal-imagined-by-poe

Hey, look, I can sort of write again! It took a while to decide on something and so I guess ultimately I just went with “self-indulgent shenanigans you won’t be able to get from anybody else”, but here’s a happy late birthday to my most darling grandmother Therinde, and a hope that your weekend whenever it begins will be pleasant and relaxing :) - James

——

Optimism was not the sort of thing to survive centuries.

Aicasáme had thought it something crushed well and truly when she’d watched her nephew murdered at the doors to his own home - surely whatever might allow her to make a life after that, whatever work and welcome she could trade upon in the courts of the south, these would not hold meaning enough to rekindle the childish dreams she’d left for these shores with, found embodied in Eregion.

She sat without motion, sipping at the painted porcelain cup of kahve that the palace seneschal had exchanged for her letter of introduction. As though any usual dignity of her presentation here could negate the very fact of her presence at all - one did not travel unasked for across an ocean for a heraldic star and a regnal name if she did not hold any mispurposed expectations for what lay behind those signs. And Aicasáme had seen too many plans go awry to allow herself to hold expectations.

The receiving hall was an oddity to her eyes, to be sure - vaulted ceilings and pillars like an architect had taken a poor copy of old Tirion and filled the gaps in his knowledge with pieces of an entirely different tradition; wrapped the entire compound in gilt and oil paint and mosaic depictions of these kings of Men’s despised mortality. The chairs she sat upon, at least, were reminiscent of nothing more than the quarters of her fellows in the Haradrim cities. She could not tell if that was a relief or a further disorientation.

No servant or nobleman alike had come to speak with her in the entire time it took to empty her cup, and that was… Aicasáme could not quite help but feel disquieted, despite the strangeness of the sensation and her reluctance to identify anything she felt at all with such a label. The seneschal had made no mention of any reason there would be a delay, no council that the king and his advisers sat upon when she arrived, nothing that would indicate a foreign courtier, one-time ambassador, would be left waiting for even some minor member of the household staff. Antipathy toward the Eldar, were the words on the tongues of all the Atani traders who dealt with Númenóre - Anadûne, she corrected herself - but such was the reason for seeking a letter of introduction from the merchant family of the dowager Queen to begin with. Yes, Aicasáme would resent it if even that turned out to hold no purchase now.

But the woman who strode into the room finally, shoes clacking echoes against veined marble floors, was clearly not a mere servant or minor lordling’s wife, and her worried were assuaged on that count by an imperious posture, a disdainful expression, an almost Ñoldorin-impressive array of jewels on the woman’s person.

"Lord Târibben informs me that not only do we have an unknown visitor claiming a history with the court of Anadûne and a vouching-for by our maternal cousins, but also that she is an elf wishing audience with my brother. Do, please, explain yourself - and if I may offer an advice, you should do well to learn competence in some tongue besides those your kind consider civilised within the next few moments, lest any audience I could decide to grant be taken without you being allowed to speak at all.”

Her words were a rapid-fire Thindarin, stilted and shot through with near-mistakes in grammar, odd word choices, and a clear disgust at needing to speak in the language at all.

Aicasáme’s attention had been pulled, though, away from the words or her purposes that depended on them - by thin-filigreed gold in ornate-wrought shapes, a hundred tiny spires like sun rays from a matching band amidst thick black hair. Several centuries evaporated in the space of a single thought, and she was once again reclining against cushions in a warm spring day, sun filtering through carven latticed windows onto the queen who lay beside her, reflecting a shine like Silmarils off that very same gold, in her own hands, and her own queen’s hair.

When she returned to her real time and place, her lungs had seemed to fill up all her chest, dizzy with nothing she’d even thought to consider. She tugged her gaze down to the woman’s face, away from the crown upon her head, took in the haughty half-sneer - was it any better? Her brother, the woman had said; the princess had said, surely, for who else could this then be? And that sneer was her own rejection of the Iathrim who hissed at her niece and nephew as children of a murderer; it was her father’s marriage to her mother and her family’s speech in the wake of a city that sought to bury the memory of a dead woman.

"There is little explanation," Aicasáme said, slow and even, halting Adunaic as she’d picked up from the Atani in the west of the desert with not a small amount of Haradric to fill the gaps as well. "I am a Ñoldo of Aman of the House of Tata; once a lord of King Feanor’s following and more recently of Eregion and Harad. It is curiosity that I want to meet the king of Anadûne who would take eight-pointed stars in his heraldry and call himself lord of the west above the Valar in the undying lands. I ask little else."

The princess’s sculpted eyebrows had raised at the words replying in Adunaic at the first; and even moreso as Aicasáme told, even so briefly, her origins. Still haughty though she was, her demeanour had softened considerably - no, not softened, but mellowed, perhaps. She was as uncertain, given the change, as Aicasáme herself must admit to being.

"I see," was all she replied with at first, grey eyes searching and calculating rapidly as she looked over Aicasáme’s form. "I will permit an audience, then, with my brother and I. He is unavailable at the moment, but I shall instruct that you be brought to us to take our meal together this evening. You shall be seen to with the courtesies required of your station until then."

Her lips pressed together and earrings clinked as she moved her head slightly; and barely a moment passed before she turned for an exit just as swift as her entrance. Aicasáme could not quite help but watch every minute shift of a moment as she left; and as she did so it left a foreboding sinking deep into her chest. Hopes did not last, and she had no desire to take such small things like lures and spin herself a fantasy kingdom that would slip away on the years. And yet she doubted even now that she could stop it.

#AICASÁME/LÔMINZIL #AICASAME #LOMINZIL #PERFECT BABIES AHHHHHHHHHHHHH #thank you so so so much #this is exactly what I wanted #<333333 #birthday presents #misadventures in arda #best aduna royal family #submission #anadûnê

Hyellinde and Aicasame? :P

oh gosh don’t worry I throw my OCs at you all the time (and you know that I love them both)

#hyellinde #paradife-loft #aicasame

——

Optimism was not the sort of thing to survive centuries.

Her words were a rapid-fire Thindarin, stilted and shot through with near-mistakes in grammar, odd word choices, and a clear disgust at needing to speak in the language at all.

#aicasame

Trending Tags

Recently Viewed Tags

#aicasame