#wisearacano

[chiefcxuncillxr]

“Where do we go from here?” Nolofinwë murmured, gripping the rail with paling knuckles as he looked out over the sweeping, yet untouched expanse of Gondolin. The King was vaguely aware of the presence of another, but made no motion of greeting or even acknowledgment. Walking - and even standing – was still hard – though it had been two months since what was being called Dagor Bragollach, he still could only manage long, painful walks about the room Turukáno had given him, scarred and nearly broken as he was.

                  He was so tired.

“My king,”

The young scholar had not intended to intrude, but curiosity (and no small amount of ambition) had caused him to enter the King’s chambers. Whatever he had expected, it was not this. Erestor and his mother had come to Gondolin to escape war, to forget their deeds under the banner of Fëanor. Now, war and despair threatened even this hidden haven. Would he never be free?

“Do not despair! All is not lost. A war is not won or lost in a single battle - the hearts of your people are true. Take hope from them, if not from yourself.”

@wisearacano

[g0rthaur]

❛ Politics is a dance until the moment it becomes a war. And we control the music. ❜

Sauron let out a breath that could have been a laugh. “Have you forgotten, elf, that the tune was set by those older and more powerful than you?” He took a step forward, looking down his nose at the elf--so delicate, so confident, so ultimately breakable against a greater will. “Have you forgotten that, at the beginning, there was more than one? I suggest you confine yourself to the petty squabbles of your own kind, and leave the greater matters to your betters. Have some respect.” 

[iwillgoalone-m]

@wisearacano from here

It was cold.

Freezing, bitter, frigid, icy – there were a thousand words to describe the deep set gnaw that assailed his people every hour of every day out on the Ice, but they added too much to the feeling. It was pervasive and constant, biting at their skin and chewing through the clothing they wore. It was cold, and it was brutal.

Nolofinwë pulled his cloak tighter around himself as he sat down next to his daughter, offering her the last piece of bread for the night. He wouldn’t call it appetizing in any sense of the word, but her three siblings had since drifted into fitful sleep across from them and Nolofinwë was too tired to eat. Her words concerned him, however, even if (especially if) he shared the sentiment. “I understand, Írissë – yet I must beg you not fall to dark thought, as so many already have.”

Írissë sighed, teeth biting into the bread without any real feeling toward it. The cold and lack of relative life around them had stolen a lot of her gaiety, though she tried to keep it up for her own sake as well as for others... in moments like this,however, she found herself musing too much upon the more negative view.

Shoulders dropping a little, she turned to her father with a lost look. “I know, I try not to... but-but sometimes, I can’t help it. We were abandoned in a way, and now we endure this-- it’s hard, atar. What do you think will become of us all in the end? Who will we all be?” her eyes closed as she shook her head. Dark thoughts indeed, but it was often when all was quiet that her mind drifted to such places. “I don’t know what to think of us all anymore, I mus admit at times I wonder what it’s all for. Is that wrong of me?”

[wisearacano]

[ FYI: noblearacano >> wisearacano mostly because I decided I do want some separation between the old blog and the new one after all, but I’ll still be tracking #noblearacano. ]