#elthruil

[magikas]

hehe @elthruil & @tharanduil

[genitrice-blog]

                                             a   prophecy   for   @elthruil​

 ❝   DEATH   CLAIMS   WHAT   IS   HIS   BY   RIGHT   no   matter   how   deep   under   the   earth   you   try   to   hide   it.   hearts   break   and   mend   all   the   time.   beware   the   one   eyed   raven,   and   tell   your   son   you   love   him.   if   you   drink   at   the   feast   tomorrow   you’re   going   to   have   a   bad   hangover.   ❞

[naeberries]

@elthruil ･ﾟ ✧ *

 ❝   WE   ALL   NEED   TO   BE   MOCKED   from   time   to   time,   least   we   start   to   take   ourselves   too   seriously,   hîr   vuin.   ❞

[wargod-a2]

The illness that drives you, through spite and through waning, it pumps through your veins like tar and ash. They want to ask if it hurts. If their body writhes and aches. If this ground burns their feet. The little divine thing worries of course. It was at times like these their naivety shows. They are no longer innocent, but a childlike concern peaks from their parted lips. “Will you be better soon?”  @elthruil​

[silvanborn-a]

        ❝  is all well with you  ,  my lord  ?  ❞

                                                                                                  @elthruil​​​​​​  /  starter call

[nyiwo]

tag   drop   2/3

*.★.｡ ❝  the allegory of water: born from sea foam and starlight  ❞  ›  amalia. *.★.｡ ❝  and among the waves - among the chaos - you were solace  ❞  ›  doina. *.★.｡ ❝  a river of tears and you - spring rain - drenched in sorrow  ❞  ›  nakriss. *.★.｡ ❝  a boy flying so high his wings collected dew from the clouds  ❞  ›  genitore. *.★.｡ ❝  he remembers only frayed lungs hacked blue and cold bones in his bed  ❞  ›  webslings. *.★.｡ ❝  everything you touch turns to ash - you are left only with yourself.  ❞  ›  draculyr. *.★.｡ ❝  you have your ancestors in your blood. a body of people asking not to be forgotten.  ❞  ›   elthruil​. *.★.｡ ❝  he was something solid to lean against - violent and fierce and unmoving  ❞  ›  vaderari​.  *.★.｡ ❝  to love and be loved is to feel the sun on both sides  ❞  ›  ship inspo. *.★.｡ ❝  i wanted him with the same hunger the moon craves the wolf  ❞  ›  re ‚ nakriss. *.★.｡ ❝  i cannot remember if you tasted like winter or my undoing  ❞  ›  re ‚ genitore. *.★.｡ ❝  he was my first act of godhood - body resurrected to be mine  ❞  ›   re ‚ webslings. *.★.｡ ❝  you teach me to want; cavernous‚ debilitating‚ my undoing.    ❞  ›  re ‚ draculyr. *.★.｡ ❝  if love is anything tangible‚ it is your mouth - you say my name and the whole sky is talking  ❞  ›   re ‚ elthruil​. *.★.｡ ❝  we are deep in a dark wood. i warm you with my blood  ❞  ›  re ‚ vaderari. *.★.｡ ❝  on the dark side of the moon - my flowers bloom in winter  ❞  ›   re ‚ the chykarié.

[saintorganamoved]

starter   for   @elthruil !      

“      i   apologize   for   the   short   notice  ,    thranduil.      ”       he   sits  ,    hands   clasped   before   him   on   the   desk  ,    the   picture   of   tranquility   were   it   not   for   the   restless   tapping   of   his   foot.      he   isn’t   typically   given   to   fidgeting  ,    but   overtired  ,    worried  ,    and   exasperated  ,    he   doesn’t   stop   himself   in   this   instance.       “      i   was   hoping   to   ask   a   favor   of   you.      perhaps   you’ve   heard   of   the   trouble   with   wobani   today?      ”

[naeberries]

           @elthruil said: “you’re home. you’re safe.” THIS IS COMPLETELY FINE

   (         iluvatar   breaks   bread   into   two   and   the   world   follows   suit:   manwë   takes   the   skies,   ulmo   takes   the   deep,   varda   plants   her   seeds   into   the   cosmos   ━━━   and   then   there's   you,   and   then   there   is   love.   it   starts   small,   with   the   caterpillar,   with   the   worm,   and   all   those   things   that   eat   dirt,   and   then   grows   into   something   beautiful.   you   walk   the   shores,   feet   bare   against   the   sand   while   you   get   used   to   having   feet,   and   everything   is   simple.   but   then   he   decrees         :         i   have   named   you   messenger,   and   your   bones   reshape   inside   your   body,   this   black   hole   of   abstract   shape   caving   in   on   itself   until   you're   inside   out,   muscle   and   sinew   and   gold   tinted   blood.         )

   she's   never   been   good   at   being   stationary.   like   light,   she   breaks   into   pieces,   she   dances   with   the   dawn,   she   disappears   only   to   overflow.   the   first   children   awake   and   she   whispers   to   them   stories,   and   then   the   second   come   and   she   laughs   along   with   their   wide   eyed   innocence.   war   comes   and   goes,   lays   the   land   into   ruin,   and   the   fire   is   too   hot,   too   brazen.   they   praise   the   names   of   her   brothers   and   sisters,   but   never   her   true   name,   and   that   is   fine   with   her.   térya   died   in   fire   and   padmé   was   reborn   in   water   and   so   she,   like   the   waves,   endures.

   she   meets   him   when   he   is   war   thorn   and   kisses   both   his   hands,   though   he   will   live   and   not   remember.   she   is   light   ━━━   she   is   half   moored   dreams   and   fragments   of   song   and   the   smell   of   rain,   wet   and   full,   after   a   draught.   when   she   meets   him   again   he   is   king,   and   she   dances   around   his   fires,   steals   food   from   his   plate,   turns   red   like   dawn   under   his   gaze.

   (         oropher,   she   calls   him   once   and   only   once.   maedhros   one   morning   when   the   sun   bleeds   inside   the   room   and   turns   his   hair   red.   a   thousand   ghosts,   a   thousand   memories,   all   alive   and   breathing   under   her   skin,   all   so   very   hungry.   she   never   says   mairon's   name.   sometimes   she   thinks   he's   grateful   for   it.   in   nights   when   the   moon   is   hidden,   she   holds   little   tauriel   in   her   arms,   runs   her   fingers   through   crimson   strands,   and   cries.         )

   she   thinks   she   loves   him   best   under   starlight   with   the   forest   alive   around   them   and   his   hands   at   her   hips.   she   whispers   to   him   in   her   tongue,   pretty   things   and   terrible   things   and   things   filled   with   mourning.   traps   promises   in   the   dip   of   his   collarbone,   where   it's   safe,   places   her   hand   across   his   beating   heart.   alive   and   ruinous   are   they,   beings   of   light,   rooted   into   earth.   a   rumble   of   thunder,   the   tenderness   of   morning   dew,   her   lips   and   his   lips   and   everything   in   between.   aeons   has   she   wandered,   unbound,   following   her   heart   and   the   pleas   of   many   voices,   but   for   once,   there   is   a   tether   binding,   red   thread   around   her   heart   and   his,   and   she   forgets   to   worry.

   as   expected,   it's   not   all   sugar   and   honey.   her   temper   flares   like   a   hurricane,   his   levels   trees   to   the   ground.   she   screams   herself   hoarse   and   he   grows   ice   around   his   body,   and   then   she   leaves   a   while,   turns   into   stardust,   only   to   come   like   the   spring   and   thaw   him.

   (         you're   either   going   to   eat   each   other   up   or   make   something   beautiful,   elrond   tells   her   once,   amused,   his   fingers   in   hers   and   eyes   still   haunted   ever   since   she   called   him   his   brother's   name.   they   watch   together   as   the   son   of   arathorn   stands   on   wobbly   feet,   each   twin   at   his   side   a   sentinel,   and   something   pierces   through   her   heart   like   an   arrow.   she   looks   at   him,   and   his   smile   turns   soft         ;            you   deserve   to   be   happy,   the   both   of   you.         )

   and   she   is   ━━━   eru,   she   is.   happiness   was   always   measured   in   coffee   spoons   until   now,   and   now   she   has   to   learn   to   drink   it   by   the   gallon.

   but   then   the   earth   splits   open   and   spits   out   magma,   like   it   is   wont   to   do.   dwarves   wake   the   dragon,   something   far   worse   wakes   along   with   it,   and   in   her   mind   she   sees   the   lamps   destroyed,   feels   the   flames   scorch   the   earth   and   eat   away   at   life.   he's   stuck   in   winter   and   for   once   her   spring   sun   is   not   enough   to   breathe   life   into   his   frozen   bones,   and   so   unlike   her   kin,   she   fears.   in   sleep,   mandos   whispers   a   kiss   across   her   brow,   holds   her   hiemal   hands   in   his,   says         :         not   yet,   térya.   not   yet.

thus   she   wakes   and   his   arms   around   her   are   a   lifeline.   his   fingers   brush   away   tears   she   has   not   even   known   she   was   crying,   press   her   into   his   chest   and   oh,   she   would   climb   between   his   ribs   if   she   could.   she   would   hide   between   his   bones,   if   only   to   make   sure   that   his   heart   is   beating,   that   the   garden   within   is   not   overgrown   with   weeds.   and   here   is   the   truth:   iluvatar   has   called   her   messenger,   and   the   eldar   have   called   her   protector,   and   the   children   of   men   have   given   her   a   thousand   names,   but   he   only   ever   call   her   her   own.   he   is   pretty   with   sleep   and   with   worry,   and   bids   her   to   return   home   among   the   living,   and   she   does,   one   breath   at   a   time,   one   blink.

   ❝         i'm   home,         ❞                           she   whispers   and   her   voice   trembles,   presses   her   face   in   the   crook   of   his   neck   where   she's   safe.   her   fingers   curl   into   his   hair   and   it's   not   red,   it's   liquid   gold   against   her   hands,   he's   sunlight,   he's   fire   that   does   not   burn.   her   mouth   is   soft   at   his   daltoid,   open   and   panting   with   the   remnants   of   terror,   but   he   is   patient   and   gentle,   urges   her   jaw   to   unclench,   her   eyes   to   dry.   and   here's   another   secret         :         she's   never   been   good   at   staying   still,   wings   aching   in   the   absence   of   flight,   but   he   does   not   seek   to   cage   her,   merely   to   hold   her,   and   she's   known   that   her   heart   lies   with   him   for   a   long   while   now   nonetheless.                           ❝         i'm   home.   don't   go.         ❞