#theyoungtraitor

[heraldofmelkor-blog]

sharpglance answered your question:||Hey, all you followers who haven’t really...

[fuckit what’s one more thread, if you don’t waiting on me

||Oh, believe me, I don't mind. :D

[highkingfinwe]

☠ [though we haven't done much so if it doesn't work out that is okay :) ]

Send me a ☠ and my muse will react to finding your muse dead.

He had not known Irissë's son in life. The tale told by the tapestries was not a kind one, and yet, no matter what this boy had done, he was family, and Finwë felt a sense of pity wash over him as he saw in the weavings the tale of Maeglin's death.

You should have grown up in Valinor, he thought, where you could be happy, where I could have known you, son of Irissë, where I could have lifted you high as a child in my arms, so that all the skies seemed yours to touch.

There would be few to mourn Maeglin, after his deeds, but Finwë was one of that few.

[beruthielthequeen]

sharpglance:

Calling it a joy of battle had some truth to it, if Maeglin had to be honest with himself. It was more joy in the exertion and the challenge of proving himself more worthy than his opponents - but what challenge was there in besting highwaymen? Nonetheless, he’d laughed at their fear and cowardice, even though they chose the wisest path and fled while they still had their lives.

Some of his energy faded as his heart calmed, and it faded further when she likened him to a demon. Tending to his own blade, Maeglin turned towards her and scanned her for injury. He had learned that sometimes the heat of battle made it easy to not feel slices in the skin and muscle or the warmth of blood until the excitement ebbed away. Berúthiel was bloodied, but none of it seemed to be her own.

"I have seen demons of fire fight before, and I have only known one of my kind to fight with any ferocity as they do." The sword in his hand was clean now, and shone in the pale moonlight. The sheath was back in the tent, he realized while looking back to it. He sighed, and laughed quietly under his breath. "There is no returning to sleep like this." Maeglin looked back over his shoulder to where she stood, dirtied and bloodied. "The smell of blood will draw more creatures from the wild than I am willing to wake up to. Is there a river nearby?"

Berúthiel laughed a little and moved closer to him, checking to see that he, too, was uninjured. He seemed to be well; there was blood on him, and sweat, and dirt, and yet somehow he had never looked so beautiful. She grinned and stretched way up on her toes to kiss him lightly; since that first time, not so very long ago, she had taken great delight in the new freedom to kiss Maeglin whenever she pleased.

"You are fiercer than any demon, then," she murmured against his mouth. Dropping back to her feet she tilted her chin and smirked. "Almost as fierce as a cat!"

As if on cue, her cats began filtering back into the clearing from where they had fought and pursued the last few bandits. Morog padded up to her and pushed his heavy head into her hand; Berúthiel scratched behind his ears as he spoke to her silently, assuring her that none of the pride were injured and that the attackers had been routed and run off, leaving the camp safe for the while. The other cats lounged about, beginning to lick at their bloodied fur and set it all to rights.

She straightened back up and grinned at Maeglin again, still feeling that fey energy coursing through her in the battle's aftermath. "They say there's a stream not too far away which should be deep enough. They'll stay here and, uh, clean up a bit?" she said, gesturing idly to the bandit corpses still laying at their feet. "And we can go clean up a bit, as well!"

Laughing, she turned and headed out into the greying night, following the directions Morog had put into her mind. She noticed all at once that she was still barefoot and clad in only the lightest of garb; well, less to remove at the stream's edge.

"Coming?" she asked over her shoulder, a wicked gleam in her eye.

[aewlaer]

"You are going to okay."

He took a deep breath, still trying to shake off his shock. "I know, I know. I just..." He wasn't sure how to handle this. He'd been decent with Eärendil, but this was something entirely different. "I don't know how to be an older brother." What if he wasn't good enough, or couldn't hold his sibling because of his own anxieties?

[avantegarda]

watching rp blogs interact on my dash is like watching a nerdy episode of saturday night live

[aewlaer]

theyoungtraitor replied to your post: //I’ve been meaning to make this post ...

[does the friendship that there is so far between Duilin and Maeglin carry over? If so, we should thread. If not, we should thread anyway.]

//I am so sorry I missed this jdkflsd It didn't show up in the activity QAQ

Oh man I don't know that's a good question. But yes either way we should totally thread dsjfksdl uvu/

[alyruko]

theyoungtraitor replied to your photoset:afterlife reunion ;u;

[ooooh but I see similarities between this one and the one you drew with Maeglin holding an injured Aredhel, though?]

man, that was entirely intentional, but still you have a really good memory o_o

[theotherwesley]

theyoungtraitor replied to your post: Guess who just got the most perfect ma...

[I am in envy of your fabulous ability to wear lipstick colors with fabulous style. And your hats, and gloves. Your ribbon <3 I wish I could look that good, dayum.]

Ach! Thank you darling! I want to gather you into my arms and make you fancy <3

A lifetime of financial recklessness and irresponsibility have left me with a closet full of costume goods that I can don at any moment

Not that I ever go outside for any reason, of course...