#filigoldenprince

[kingsxjewel]

»Welcome to The Mountain«

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@fizzyxcustard @taurielkeeperofbravery @flxbber @filigoldenprince @einarrx @simplywalks @priincevlad @theoneswithoutpacks @warnurse @multimentium @tofeelthecold @aelsell @witchxr @estrellaxperdida

[foreaft]

@filigoldenprince​   /   s.   /   fili   (   ithilriel   )   ❤

* LUNA   —   ITHILRIEL   :   she lies supported by the earth, back against the soft   &   sensuous greenery; her chest rises and falls, her breathing slow, as if she is serene in slumber.  It isn’t until a red - breasted bird lands ‘pon her bosom, chirping hurriedly before taking flight once again, that she stirs.  Guests, you say?  Her eyes SNAP open upon the resounding call of a horn and the earth rumbling beneath her; she takes a moment, closing her eyes   &   breathing deeply in, clearing the ambiance from her mind.  The wind, the rustling of the leaves within the trees, the rush of the waters, she mutes it all .  .  . drowning everything but the clopping of hooves, whinnies   &   snorts of horses, and   .  .  .   discontent?  It is a commotion, of grunts   &   guttural growls   .  .  .   emotion swirling within   .  .  .   it’s PALPABLE; and Ithilriel makes the mistake of touching it.  She yelps, shooting upright, scrambling to her feet — startling herself into a sprint.

Her footsteps are soundless against the smooth stone, for she is fleet - footed; decisive as she weaves through the corridors   &   breezeways.  But, Ithilriel stops hard on her heels, wide - eyed and mouth ajar as an elf ushers unusual guests down an intersecting hall.  Dwarves !  Dwarf after dwarf after dwarf passes by before her; and she is in AWE, it has been far too long since she’s last set eyes ‘pon any of their kind.  Now there are thirteen, thirteen, in Rivendell !  Yet as they pass, one in particular catches her eye .  .  . he seems to be young and his hair golden blonde; and there is warmth, she can feel it, buried beneath a rugged   &   worn exterior.  Ithilriel’s curiosity draws her to follow them   .  .  .   and her excitement only grows when her eyes land ‘pon a familiar face, one who is walking   &   talking with Lord Elrond : MITHRANDIR !  

So, she follows, from a distance, to find that they’ve been offered a feast; Ithilriel dare not disturb or interrupt such a gathering, for she was not invited.  She makes the wise choice to linger behind, gazing ‘pon the feast for only a moment, before slipping away to fetch parchment   &   her charcoal.  After several minutes, she returns — carrying a tattered expedition knapsack — finding a pleasant place on a breezeway above to sit, observe, and sketch.  She manages to sketch the feasting scene and a few of the dwarves too, capturing their likeness, who she later learns are Glóin, Dori, Bombur and Fili   .  .  .   their names being given to her by Mithrandir.  Fili   .  .  .   she ponders, gazing at the charcoal sketch of him; then shuffling through the sketches of the other three with thoughtful glances.  These thoughts flutter, to   &   fro, like butterflies flitting from flower to flower in her head, but one takes hold, and a soft smile spreads across her alabaster elfin features.

With her drawings safe   &   secure within her knapsack, she sets out in search of the golden - haired dwarf named Fili.  She searches and searches, with little success, so she pauses; think, think, think — and she closes her eyes.  Where would I be if I were a weary adventurer?  Ithilriel draws a deep breath in, what does every adventurer need?  Supplies, food .  .  . a WEAPON !  An adventurer needs a weapon !  And she’s sprinting, again, arriving at the doors to the armory in no time at all; entering without a second thought.  She has found him, she’s finally found him !   “   An adventurer needs a weapon,   ”   she whispers to herself, proud of her ability to problem solve.  But   .  .  .   gazing ‘pon him now, he certainly doesn’t look as if he needs any; he’s heavily armed & armored, and curiosity SEIZES her, all manners forgotten.   “   You carry so many   .  .  .   do you have a preference?,   ”   she asks, her eyes bouncing from weapon to weapon that he carries — inquisitive.

[warnurse]

▲ #7 [[bless that random generator for this tbh]]

Send me a ▲ for my muse’s reaction to yours:               1. holding their hand for the first time

Elliel was practically dripping with anxiety. She was slouching, her leg bounced to a deaf rhythm, and her nails had been chewed down until a line of dried blood marked her fingertips. She couldn’t think properly. She wasn’t herself, and no doubt looked it.

But the maid nearly flinched when she felt another hand grasp hers. Fili— it had to be, he was sitting next to her. She did not turn to him, but knowing he was there calmed her, and she exhaled a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She kept breathing, hoping her heart would cease it constant drumming, and that her anxiety would ease. Eventually she became a great deal more peaceful, with his help, but her pulse was not so easily convinced, for some reason. 

Elliel kept her gaze forward, but could not force her smile away, and squeezed his hand tighter.

[warnurse]

There is not as nearly enough mead as thee should be in the area. One too many people have dank far too much, and it’s terribly hot. Her cup remains relatively full, however. Lucky her. 

Her attention was drawn away to some area she couldn’t pinpoint, but there is a rouse, and a jeer so loud it shakes the building. The air is too clouded with pipe smoke and a reek intense enough to sting the nose to know what exactly is going on.

[feanors-daughter]

"When is the last time you slept?"

Illness themed RP starters!

Laurelin sat on a step in the dungeons, watching as Tauriel went about her duties as Captain of the Guard, hands clasped and forearms rested upon her knees. Though her visits were not terribly often these days - Tauriel was no longer an elfling, she had responsibilities and her days were full of them - the times she did come to visit the young Silvan, she would accompany her on her daily tasks around the palace. 

Admittedly, the red-haired Noldo was tired. Her eyelids were heavy and her limbs felt as if they were made of sand, though she still attempted to hold herself with her usual air of dignity and grace. Sleep was hard to come by, and when she did manage to rest, she was plagued by terrible nightmares that woke her almost immediately. That, in addition to the exhaustion wrought by traveling nearly daily, had clearly started to have an effect on Laurelin.

The question from the blonde dwarf in the cell she sat besides startled her. Blue eyes narrowed, she looked to him. “What concern is it to you, dwarf?” She snapped in response, though she had not intended for her tone to sound so sharp.

@filigoldenprince

[mistressbaggins-theburglar-blog]

By the road

⊱✿ filigoldenprince ✿⊰

Not for the first time since she left her beloved smial, Bilba was irritably picking twigs out her curls with a furious scowl on her lips. Leaving on this little venture was literally a ‘wake up and pack’ kind of decision, and she found that despite the relative close proximity between the Shire and the Blue Mountains she had little experience of traveling further then Bree. Especially by herself.

Fortunately, kindness had come in the form of a group of travelling dwarrows that took pity on her and allowed her to join follow them for as long as they were on the same path west.

And so, the Hobbit was perched close to the fire as she braided her hair, trying not to catch the eye of a dwarf through an embarrassed induced shyness.

[warnurse]

filigoldenprince

“Uh, you...” she stopped just then, tripping over her words, and released a sigh; rather irritated with herself for not speaking properly. “...you fight good.”

[wanderingarcherviola]

filigoldenprince has been spotted!

Seeing the dwarf Viola immediately reached for her bow, she’d had enough run ins with dwarves in the past to know how quick they were to attack “Wanderin close to an orcs camp ain’t a wise thing to be doin, dwarf.” She snapped