#eruschildren

[medicter]

For such a man as Boromir of Gondor, accustomed to swallowing his fear and battling forward without quarter or retreat, to find him petrified into stillness was unheard of. And yet, standing before the doors of his dear beloved Aunt Ivriniel’s parlour, Boromir could barely move a muscle. 

The handle taunted him, even as he tried to breathe through this irrational sensation. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? It was not irrational at all. In fact, he might very well be about to shatter a loving familial bond with but a few choice words. He didn’t want to watch her face, to know her disappointed, perhaps even disgusted. But this was a choice he had made, to tell just one member of his family, a risk but a needed one. 

That reminder was what he needed to reach for the handle, opening the door just enough so that he was visible. An automatic smile appears when he sees her, he can’t help it, he so rarely gets to see his family. “Aunt Ivriniel, are you at leisure to speak a moment? In private.”

CLOSED STARTER ||| @eruschildren

[elesheir]

"Press upon it.” Had it wrought him wholly, this flare of keening pain, then Elessar, king of the Dúnedain, yet spilled ill words from his lips. Sat by old roots of a tree in sun, he felt his heart still lept high in his throat. Beneath sore ribs, it pounded like thunder; his veins roared with blood like a deluge of rain. Relentless had been the Uruks wrongly bold in their numbers, but in arrogance had they managed to strike this brave lord! Breathing deeply, Aragorn studied the wound to his thigh. The skin at its edges laid bloody and sheared. “Firmly,” he breathed to young Amdir, bright of eyes. Afraid he’d hurt him? Come, spare the thought.

@eruschildren, ranger of the north.

[easterlingwanderer]

@eruschildren - Earendil

The man is sitting, calmly, looking up and taking notes.

The man is sitting, calmly, at the hedge of the World, where Ea becomes the Void, his legs dangling outside the confine of reality, looking up and taking notes.

There is nothing to sit over. There is, literally, nothing where he is. He shouldn’t be here.

And yet, here he is.

He is quite a common-looking man. Brown haired, with a plain face, a rather big nose and wrinkles on the corner of his eyes. And yet, he is sitting where no man should be, and... apparently, studying the Void.

He doesn’t seem to have noticed the ship, or either he cares little for it, because he continues his work.

[warriorswithin]

   ❝HOW MANY MORE TIMES DO I NEED TO TELL YOU I AM FINE?❞ Golodir was running low on patience ———— ever since Lorníel passed away he had been... LONELY. Distancing himself from the others, trying to find his acceptance in the middle of all the events that fell on The Grey Company. He could not deny that leaving Angmar behind had done him some good, but the Rangers were WORRIED about him. Especially, Corunir. 

   LOOKING UP, GOLODIR RELEASED A SIGH at the sight of the younger Ranger watching over him as a hawk. Even if he displayed the lack of amusement in his features, his eyes displayed the SHATTERED heart he carried with a never ending grief for his daughter dreadful fate.

   ❝LEAVE ME BE, CORUNIR, I am no longer a child as you can tell,❞ he began, removing his gaze from the other. ❝I merely seek for some time ALONE.❞

( @eruschildren // Corunir. ) 

[houseofdolamroth]

eruschildren

@eruschildren liked for a starter

Dol Amroth was quiet.

Or it was as Imrahil, the eight year old son of Adrahil snuck out of his room where he’d been put to bed little more than an hour before. Dark head peeking around the door, he padded out, barefoot and clad in his night clothes, and once he was certain no one was around, he grinned and began the trek towards the kitchens.

Cook had made some marvelous treats for them, but due to his mischief before dinner, he’d been sent to bed without them, something which he felt was horribly unfair, and a wrong he was now seeking to right. Except, in his quest to get to the kitchen, he didn’t even spot that someone had spotted him.

[sorceryofxstorm-blog]

Of Stars and Storms

[ @eruschildren for Gilraen as we already have a thread with Agandaur and Amdir]

Agandaur's steed stopped in it’s tracks with a low grunt as it’s master pulled the reins, narrowed steel blue gaze piercing through the trees. There was somebody among the trees a little further, he could tell. Attempting to hide, radiating of terror and grief. The Sorcerer tilted his head. Must be a survivor... he had heard orcs kept raiding this region viciously. Let’s see, shall we? he mused, turning Dreadwing and leading it towards the unfortunate stranger’s hiding spot, gloved hand resting on the hilt of massive sword at his side. 

“Show yourself and no harm will come to you” the black numenorean commanded in his deep and menacing voice as he got close enough. 

[elesheir]

His body ached. Yet, nestled tenderly beneath his bruises -- vivid, they were, in velvety shades of rose -- his bones still cradled great tenderness. And, now, should they not? Sauron the Deceiver, that looming dark sleepless night sleepless, laid slain at long last! A weary joy overwhelmed all. And though bodies still lined The Black Gate, their limbs ice-cold like winter, the cresting of the sun came to shine now all the brighter. Their age of great darkness had faded at last. Aragorn hummed as much hunching over Halbarad. Oh, Halbarad-- “And so I had found you.” Gingerly, a hand settled along the curve of a cheek, and his hasty exhales faded merrily. Had Strider truly scoured the fields for him...? “I would not part. That place beside me remains yours.”

@eruschildren, ranger of the north.

[medicter]

She was not in the habit of admitting she had been wrong. She did not like taking advice. It was so difficult to listen to those men called ‘wise’ when they were some millennia her junior. But, just this once, she was glad to have taken Elrond’s tentative suggestion. Imladris was... peaceful. A welcome calm after so many years spent in eastern battles or traversing treacherous roads. And perhaps she had missed Glorfindel, a little. 

But, for all that, even with all her time away, she was already finding Elves  grating. Which was what made the sight of a little human boy so surprisingly welcome. Hravanis was forced to side step as he came charging through the eves, a rare smile finding her lips as she watching him go, his mop of thick black hair bobbing away. The little Chieftain, she assumed, and a quick glance about easily found his mother. 

Hair a nostalgic red, a young woman with a face already worn with strife, a Dunadain through and through. It occurred to Hravanis that she had not heard from the secretive pretenders to the Gondorian throne in quite some time. And so, with graceful step, she approached Mireth. “The little heir is growing strong I see,” she hummed with a note of warmth, “What is your name, if I may ask?”

@eruschildren  ||| STARTER CALL