#elessaer

[vtriggcr-blog]

@elessaer ❝ hey aragorn, u want sum fucc ?? ❞

[beautifulics]

      the light of the sun shine bright in his face and it HURT in his eyes ––––– even if the light was weak, after so many months trapped in the darkness of nan curunir, within the cursed tower that belonged to saruman, he believed his life to be lost alongside lothrandir. the water hit the place with such intensity that some of the cages broke and a few dunlendings were set free, but none remained behind to help them. but what could he expect, when it was possibly their tribe that betrayed them in the first place as well ?

      the silhouette was not familiar at first, not when he believed this was but another fragment of his IMAGINATION where they were rescued by their kin. but as he felt the soil underneath his bruised body, the dirt underneath his hands that was too stubborn not to linger underneath his nails and glanced upwards, candaith saw him.

      ❛ CHIEFTAIN ? ❜ candaith’s voice cracked and his throat ached. they were treated very poorly and only given water after a whole day, alongside one meal that was just a mash up of disgusting spares the orcs and uruks didn’t eat. they had found him... he was alright now. ❛ is it really  you ? ❜

@elessaer​ ♡ !

[shirebxrn]

@elessaer said: “ you can’t always be strong, but you can always be brave. ”

Shaking hands tightened into fists. The hobbit’s face twisted into something altogether heartbroken and forlorn and exhausted. “But what if I don’t want to be brave anymore?” Bilbo demanded, his voice trembling. “I’ve had to be brave for so- so long I do not know if I can stand to continue doing so for much longer. I don’t know if I have it in me. We hobbits… are simply not meant for this.”

[witchered]

#geralt is the combination of aragorn and legolas we all thirsted for

sorry but everyone needed to see @elessaer​ admit the truth that we all choose to ignore

[dunadaneth]

’ i see you can take care of yourself.

         Sword 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐆 through the purpling sky, stars reflecting in the keen metal as she wound her arm to strike swiftly. Tadan was her height but broader, heavier, and his parry forced her back into the sand, with a strength that could make one’s teeth 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 had she not grown used to practicing with him. Wooden posts could only have so much to give when training. Flesh and blood were 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑.         He charged her, and she slashed rapidly with diagonal blows, whirling her sword in 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆-𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐓 feints. A wrong parry or mistake would lose her balance, and she flew around him, trying to wear him out and keep him turning, guessing. She feinted a blow from the right, and he hesitated, she struck with a right seconde so powerfully that Tadan 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃, and would have fallen if not for his height. She took her chance, dropping low and avoid his lunge, and twisted her hips in a kick that 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐏𝐓 his feet out from underneath him, an indignant cry as he fell to the earth like a tree being toppled. Not an 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 trick, no, but when did Angmarim and bandits submit to honor?

         She had not realized there had been an audience until she helped Tadan up, dusting at his shirt as she saw their chieftain close by, and they greeted him warmly. 

        “I would 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄 so,” she replied, grinning as she pushed the loose strands of curls that escaped her bun. “I wouldn’t want to be a liability out in the Wilds.” Her sword she picked up, watching as Tadan limped towards the keg of water, and she turned to him, a glint in her eye. “Would you like to practice?”

[rcsiecotton]

         “Your Grace.” She is quick to dip into a curtsy. “I must thank you for your hospitality, never in all my days did I think to see the White City for myself--” 

@elessaer​ ;; starter call

[fairestfall]

@elessaer cont. from here 

        hers is a mien of marble, of ice and stone. she reveals no outward displeasure, merely cants her head as moon-colored hues seem to stare into him. she can respect his prudence in speech, and she did not offer such a warning to belittle his own grief. she knows better than most what pain orcs and goblins have wrought, for she was alive when the great hoards were bred in the darkness of utumno. but she would also like to educate this ranger, this future king, if he would allow it. 

then perhaps her own worries can be staid. he is no ar-pharazôn or isildur, but he might yet turn to be so, no matter how pure his intentions. 

“imagine that a woman goes to a king to plead for the lives of her countrymen. forty have been placed in prison. witnesses say that thirty of them are murderers and brigands. but what of the ten whose hands are unsullied, who want nothing more than to raise their children in peace?” she asks. she looks for patience, for a willingness to learn and understand in his heart. “what would you have this king do? should he kill the ten with the thirty just because they are of the same blood and outward appearance? or should he deal out justice rather than vengeance, punish the thirty and let the ten go free?”