Beleg, Chief Marchwarden of Doriath

Selective RP account

[viridfelicity]

Had he made him feel cornered? Beleg did not know, nor did he notice if so, unfortunately, and as such made no attempt to remedy those feelings. He’d step aside to let him breathe if told, but right now he zeroed in on the colour that rose to the other elf’s cheeks. To the laughter that followed, and he was pleased to know he had caused a reaction such as that.

He loved him, he did, but he could wait if need be. He doubted he’d ever feel any differently about him should he be rejected wholly. It was the last thing he’d hope for and if there was any for it, it would only be out of trepidation. Marrying while they were not at peace...it was a risk, he knew. He could wait.

He was quick to make light of the reply, though he did so by turning down and back his head to eye the precipitous staircase as if they had been of great offense to his partner. It mattered not whether Mablung had thought against joking with the offering of a hand; Beleg chose one to slide his fingers into the open spaces between the other set, using them to gently pull Mablung’s arm some away from his body as he took a stair down.

“I would,” the archer flashed him a smile, mischievous but small in form, “Had I caught you earlier perhaps in court. Yet,” Beleg bowed, touching his lips in a soft kiss to Mablung’s knuckles. “Here I stand.”

[viridfelicity]

highqueenofthenoldor replied to your post:highqueenofthenoldor replied to your post:excuse…

I don’t see your name on it //ahh tough. Good luck!

There was something to say about paternal instincts in that his were very, very easy to trigger. A little too easy when taking this into consideration, but in any other situation, with anyone else, the prompt would have lead into argument. Light, teasing–childish, because this was a fight children had over objects.

Instead Beleg stared at her and nudged himself back further into the seat. While he slid down he drew one arm across his middle as a prop for the other to cover his mouth with a hand, left leg mirroring the first movement to rest over top his right knee. He was smiling behind his fingers and unable to conceal it, covered though his lips may be, and tried to come up with a way to politely dismiss himself.

This was the most misplaced-… “It is only not yet there, you see.” Of all people. He didn’t know how to get out of it.

…I CAN’T TELL WHEN COMMENTARY IS IC LOL haveanactualreplythen

[highqueenofthenoldor]

Fëanárë looked at the Thindar for a moment longer then leaned back onto the seat, spreading out her arms over the back  and stretching her legs out infront of her, crossed at the ankles so that the muscles strained for a moment. Then she relaxed, content on the seat she had found.

She glanced at his face, caught the smile and frowned at the expression, sure it was directed at her in mocking.

"A name that does not yet exist is supperfluous as to actual ownership of the seat."

[viridfelicity]

Ridiculous!

This was absolute… No; in all fairness Beleg found he was rather amused, entirely in spite of himself. Doriath’s archer didn’t quite know how to react, how to respond in general, and smiled nervously – yes, quite so, to himself while he continued to play defiant and settle tighter in his spot, and he placed his hands in his lap.

Fëanárë was way too old for him to look at as an elfling, no matter the ‘fight’. Of which fight he chose now to dodge, lest he slip too far.

“It is true,” but he had seen when that frown came and he knew what most likely caused it. He took a moment with his head somewhat bowed to cast that unease (and his instincts, most of all!) aside in order to greet her again with a calmer smile, one that was warm and perhaps a little more sure. Less likely to tease, if nothing else. “Are your travels well, my lady?”

[theladycaptainofdoriath]

She felt the weight of an intelligent gaze upon her back, turned to face it only once her previous distraction was ended. To see him there was unsurprising, keeping with what seemed to be their routine, but it was only after doing so that she rested the end of her spear against the earth. He would not perch so easily with threat nearby, and she doubted him not in his abilities much as she did not doubt herself. And so it was with an arched brow that she regarded him at length, weight bringing her to lean slightly towards her weapon.

“Is there something here so fascinating that you creep upon it without warning to watch?” she asked dryly, a brow lifted in skeptical arch. “Or are you simply bored?” Though she spoke thus, amusement lay beneath the words along with a strange sort of uncertainty that only he could draw forth in her. One she dutifully ignored, as always. It didn’t help to know how long he’d been there.

[viridfelicity]

A little late to decide he had chosen his seating unwisely; this boulder could be coated in moss and it couldn’t be any more uncomfortable. He’d admit to that thought being exaggerated some, though it helped that his attire was woven thick and layered nicely, and perhaps he’d been more than just a little preoccupied with his current source of interest.

“It is the former I must confess; I do find you most fascinating,” he laughed, warm and full of heart. “I would not think you boring, captain. Not exactly.” There was as much truth in those words as jest. Beleg offered her a smile and a shrug and continued, less flirtatious and more casual, “How does this end of the wood treat you?”

[viridfelicity]

As the pigeon reacted more to certain words over others his list of possibilities quickly grew a bit longer. The odd behaviour could quite well mean she had been a pet of some sort, or simply used to getting treats off of other Children. He did truly hope that were the case as he’d previously assumed the bird might have been ill. Still.

“That’s it darling,” he tried, letting the back of his hand rest on the ground and settling more loosely in an effort to appear smaller. “Come here, it’s okay; I won’t harm you.”

[askrossiel]

Elves usually kept their promises, and perhaps so long as she had this one’s attention, he would keep her from being pounced on by a cat, or snatched up by someone’s hunting-hawk.

Rossiel inched closer, little by little, until she had nestled herself in his open palm, cooing all the while.

[viridfelicity]

It was when the pigeon began taking careful steps toward him that he stilled, and he did not move again. He had stayed quiet throughout, eyes brightening when she finally came to settle comfortably in his palm. At first he tested the pigeon’s nerves, slowly, by raising his free hand behind her shoulders. If she would not flee he would gently rest his fingers against grey feathers to balance her, as she did not have a grip on any of his fingers, and stand up.

“I wonder where you came from?” he wondered, deciding to brave rubbing the bird’s back. “Or to whom you belong.”

[withweightedhand]

Read More

[viridfelicity]

Mablung had held Beleg’s attention during the time which Thranduil spoke, and carefully he observed his captain’s expression and posture throughout.

Unlike the kings before him…

“And to who else do we owe your life but the last high king of the Ñoldor?” Beleg teased; an attempt to lighten the air, an attempt perhaps in vain. There had been a time earlier in their stay where the golden king, perhaps having had a little too much mead, had spoken more fondly of Gil-Galad than his own father and Beleg knew him worthy of this praise. However most the tale he knew from Míriel’s tapestries during his time in the Halls – how Oropher had brought his army and child beyond the marshes in little more than linen and thin leather. Thranduil’s decision, having been taught the sword under the Ñoldor, chose to remain with them and his long-time friend, Elrond. He would tread more carefully with his words had he not known Thranduil to be benevolent.

More than that he remembered the ellon in his youth, heckling them and harassing the guards. Beleg may be playful by nature but Thranduil had ever been crafty, and he had assumed he’d grow less wicked with age.

He had thought wrong.

Beleg found himself deeply amused by the deceit, though he had only stared at the king’s back in surprise. He looked over in time to catch Mablung’s gaze in that brief moment, and bit out laughter. A simple, harmless trick. “You didn’t need to go to such lengths!”

A voice came from the doorway, “Did he not?” And another, an exact match; “I think he did.”

The archer whirled with a start; he had not heard the twins following them and he had not been aware of their presence. In fact, he suspected they had somehow managed to conceal themselves amongst the twisting roots. Beleg took a few steps toward Mablung, confusion leading him to try and block his partner from view.

While they had failed to give names they had lead them here from where they were lost, where spiders could have made a quick meal from them – his posture didn’t shift offensively this time. He had spotted them only one other time since their arrival in the wood where they sat close and traded affections, and the one with the sides of his head shaven had turned to eye him dangerously as he passed down a lengthy corridor. They wore the same red and black silks as the two previous encounters, decorated with gold cord and white gems.

“He paid us well,” one of them lied.

[viridfelicity]

*Generously flips his hair.*

Which just fluffs up more than usual. Beleg ducks between his shoulders, smiling awkwardly and in mild confusion, reaching to try and smooth his hair back out. “My lady?”

[viridfelicity]

daughterofthingol:

//QvQ~ <3// She laughs lightly then steps forward and moves to his side. " I have been wanting to do that for years.. Pardon me if it came off as rude, it's just your hair is so incredibly fluffy looking. I just.. had the want to touch it."

He is quick to fall back a step when she closes some distance and it is unclear whether he is retreating or simply keeping her well within view. Beleg’s hands never drop – instead they choose to stay raised, pinning dark strands down against his neck. While he is not modest by nature he is a little nervous here, though he knows well that Lúthien meant him no insult.

Beleg avoids the apology easily by joking; “Suppose I’ll never find a mate with it so short,” unfortunately he’s too confused for dramatics.

[viridfelicity]

If he'd disturbed someone it might be different; if someone other than Mablung had reacted or would come out he'd be a bit apologetic or act a little more appropriately to be polite. That is perhaps so anyway; he'd been excited to spot him in knowing he hadn't been so late as to miss him.

"Oh, no?" There had been little meaning behind the gesture moments ago and the maybe too pleased of tone was a little misplaced. Beleg was hoping for being immediately chased off as much as he was keeping him awake. He'd have decided to wait if Mablung answered to being tired.

It wasn't likely a good time and the kingdom was yet young, but they'd never truly had a 'good' time and with the progression of things it was what made him decide on now. They might never get the chance even if they waited to follow it up. Beleg took another stair from between them, bright smile diminishing none and perhaps more sure of himself than he should have been. Modesty? "I wanted to ask your hand, if I may have it."

[viridfelicity]

One of the problems Beleg hadn't considered was the possibility of Mablung thinking he'd run into him, which he would have made sure not to do, but when he continued to further the distance the thought became quickly aware to him and he slowed a little sooner than he may have otherwise done. It didn't stop his advance however; he moved in a little closer and halted a few steps beneath him.

A few steps which became one or two less once he recognised the manner in which he was being looked upon, easily guessing the reason for it before being questioned. He smiled and drew his shoulders, not looking the least bit apologetic in the attempt to be, but responded more appropriately once scolded for it. He laughed a little and lowered his head, "It's not urgent, I suppose," if Mablung made real effort to be upset with him for being noisy he may have reacted a little more appropriately.

The smile was quick to turn bright when he looked back up at him, this time sure to speak softer. "Are you too tired? There was something I'd wanted to ask of you."

[viridfelicity]

Late. Later than expected, Beleg thought when the bridge leading to Menegroth finally came into view, the forestry here divided by a large canyon. The city itself well hidden within the towering mountainside, unnerving more in the darkness with the water that cut through stone to pass a river where they may have once been able to walk many years go, lush plant-life finding ways to flourish and climb within the gap making the distance seem so much greater. He lived far as most his tasks were away from the city, and compared to the miles of forest this was a sight that would never get old.

Tonight was different in that the view held little impact on him as the stone beneath his feet became dirt once more and the bridge lay behind. Nothing more than moonlight aided the journey into complete darkness where only once the short passage underground would conceal the heat of fire were torches used. Beyond the bevy who cared for the horses, the guards, and stables lay the gates of the city and when opened brilliant light flooded the corridor for a few mere moments.

Beleg could tirelessly wander but this wear was not his body though it felt heavy with the thoughts that weighted him. It was disappointment and he was being a child about it; reminding himself that there was plenty of time, that it didn't need to be now, and that he was being silly didn't bring him out of it. In spite of himself he managed not to be grumpy when he spoke with Thingol; he could be far too eager about some ideas.

But, he wanted–.

He'd not expected to see Mablung until the next eve in spite of his pressed roaming, so when the other captain came into view, albeit already far ahead, Beleg ran for the staircase the other was partway up. "Wait!" Beleg called, catching the banister to brace himself, arrows rattling against one another in their quiver, a flurry of white wool in the sudden stop. "Mablung, wait! I need your attention for a moment," he'd forgotten the time and that his voice would carry, thoughts set strictly on chasing up the stairs after him.

[viridfelicity]

Beleg? I wrote several copies of the council notes. Would you like one?

What? He’d been trying to hurry off when his name had been called, ceasing mid-step to turn toward the source of the voice. Daeron was initially greeted with raised brows and somewhat widened, curious eyes, and parted lips. It took only a beat for Beleg to recognise the younger elf and smiled. He moved to face him more fully and started on a more proper greeting than a confused stare, but had to pause again as what he was being told settled in.

"Several, really?" His face twisted back into something curious, although less surprised. Some sort of hobby or interest the other had taken up? Before he thought to address his own curiosities he had to answer a question directed at himself. "Oh," he started, "I will do all right, I appreciate the offer. Why did you write so many?"

[daeron-the-flautist]

Daeron blinked back at the confused marchwarden, unsure as to the reaction. Encouraged at last by the smile, he stepped forward and offered him a piece of parchment.

He grinned at the question. “Well, I’m revising the Cirth. Im separating the ‘dh’ sound from the ‘th’ sound. We shall see if it helps at all.” He pointed to a figure in the page. “I kept the symbol for dh the same, but the one for th looks like this.”

[viridfelicity]

Although Beleg had attempted turning down the offer there was no hesitation when the younger Elf moved to hand him the paper and he turned it comfortably in his hands, eyes only briefly scanning over the text. He’d appreciate Daeron’s penmanship more than the context no doubt; his hands weren’t meant for writing, so he’d keep it if permitted.

Just as soon as he’d lifted his eyes he had to look back down as somewhere in the text the other drew attention, Beleg stepped around to stand close beside him instead, seeming to think it would help, and furrowed his brows at the parchment as Daeron explained. “What would this second part here be?” he asked, deciding to run with it. He still had a little bit of time.

[melian-themaia]

viridfelicity started following you

"Beleg! I did not expect to see you so soon.” Melian turned to face the elf.

[viridfelicity]

The expression Beleg wore was about as surprised as the tone Melain had called out to him with, a warm smile slowly replacing it once eye contact had been established. “Oh no, I’ve been caught,” he offered in jest and curled on himself a little, “Suppose I’m not so sneaky after all.”

[melian-themaia]

“Perhaps you may be sneaky enough to fool other elves, but I am not so easily evaded.” Melian raised an eyebrow. “Would you mind telling me why you are sneaking around my halls?”

[viridfelicity]

Quickly the smile upon his face became apologetic in nature and he laughed mutely, mostly to himself out of minor embarrassment. It was Thingol after all who more often humoured Beleg with these sort of exchanges. “Forgive me,” he offered, dipping low. “I meant no disrespect, Your Majesty, I only say such things to tease. Truthfully my early return is due to the storm; a section of the dam came loose and I intended to request activities in the coming days be moved from the riverbank until the water has receded.”

There was a short pause during which Beleg lifted his eyes, though his posture remained unchanged. “Mablung is in the process of alerting those caught in the rain further out just to be safe.”

[viridfelicity]

withweightedhand

They had served two lords come now. Although the halls of Thranduil reminded him of Menegroth that was where the similarities ended and nothing from his past compared to the dark forest even after its purging. Life there was so different from Doriath; everything was so raw and real – peaceful folk with a lifestyle comparable unending war. Then there was their golden king who fought like the Ñoldor yet moved with Vanyar elegance and drew without bias allies from near and far. Lord Elrond and his boys who eerily resembled Finwë over their close relatives were amongst those who frequented these woodlands, more so than the Dwarven families or Thranduil's dark-haired son and Gimli.

Beleg couldn't tell which Mablung preferred less.

All of it now nothing more than a memory but Beleg could still describe every detail in the wild clothing. He could still taste the too strong of wine and smell the smoke of the fires which kept light through the darkened hours of the day, the celebrations that seemed to be without end, and the strange music of the Silvan Elves.

He dreamt often of those times since their decision to move on for good and those dreams came so vividly that, until he were fully awake, he was left questioning whether they had left at all and whether the trees he were looking at were only but a clearing in the forest. Much like today when he and his partner stowed away into the hollow of a tree and found sleep upon them. The dreams were so much more real when he could feel the wind but he blinked reality back into focus, groggy and tense from the rest he hadn't yet managed to get.

Beleg leaned forward as much as he could without potentially disturbing the (possibly) still sleeping Elf curled in his lap, Mablung's longer legs bent beneath his knees and their ankles crossed over each other's, to peek out at the peaceful world still so new to them both. A watchful habit, one that woke him only a couple hours in. When he settled again he fussed gently with long hair, working loose strands so carefully behind Mablung's exposed ear; it always ended up everywhere when he slept and Beleg wondered just how he managed it in times like now when he'd moved so little.

He had been softly stroking the other's head with his thumb, hand having rested atop it after he'd satisfied himself with Mablung's hair, and bent down after another moment of that to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

[melian-themaia]

viridfelicity started following you

"Beleg! I did not expect to see you so soon.” Melian turned to face the elf.

[viridfelicity]

The expression Beleg wore was about as surprised as the tone Melain had called out to him with, a warm smile slowly replacing it once eye contact had been established. "Oh no, I've been caught," he offered in jest and curled on himself a little, "Suppose I'm not so sneaky after all."

[askrossiel]

Rossiel eyed him warily — well… to be honest, that was how she eyed most things.  The way the Elf looked at her didn’t seem to suggest a roast squab supper was high on his list of priorities.  One didn’t speak gently to one’s supper and call it pretty.  Pretty!  The thought was enough to bring just a little prideful puff to her feathers.

Maybe he’d be her friend!  Rossiel hadn’t had a friend in a while.  Oh, the other birds helped her.  They taught her how to pick grit and forage for seeds, how to keep her feathers tidy, how to avoid predators.  But that wasn’t the same as having friends.  Making up her mind, she took a few cautious, waddling steps toward him and tilted her head.

"Cooo?"

[viridfelicity]

As the pigeon reacted more to certain words over others his list of possibilities quickly grew a bit longer. The odd behaviour could quite well mean she had been a pet of some sort, or simply used to getting treats off of other Children. He did truly hope that were the case as he'd previously assumed the bird might have been ill. Still.

"That's it darling," he tried, letting the back of his hand rest on the ground and settling more loosely in an effort to appear smaller. "Come here, it's okay; I won't harm you."

[viridfelicity]

Were it at all possible for a bird to look worried? If so then before now he knew it not. Surely they worried, yes, yet this one... This dove seemed to wear an expression of sorts. He'd swear on it. And it was with that thought he realised that in all the time he'd been staring the bird hadn't gone very far.

Birds tended to hide signs of illness. Perhaps that weren't the case with this one?

"Hello there little one," he spoke softly as he moved to try and get a little closer. Beleg's form slumped lightly and he held his arms loosely out, palms up, in a submissive display. Each motion grew ever slower so that by time he lowered to kneel the white cloth shielding his body barely made a sound against the ground beneath him. "Aren't you pretty," a soft murmur and a gentle smile on his lips, the archer attempted offering a hand; he would not reach for the bird lest he may frighten it. Let her come to him on her own will.

[viridfelicity]

Right up until the exact moment her hands found his Beleg had been very comfortable with the contact and closeness, the change in it too sudden. He didn't startle or react in any adverse manner, not at first, instead holding onto the quieting of his thoughts when the other form leaned back upon him. It wasn't going to last too long, though he would realise that later when she'd decide to start physically exploring his hands.

He started telling himself that it was fine the way she was handling him; it wasn't offensive being what they were to one another, she was content, and that contentedness was worth holding in place for. If in any degree it made her happy he would try for her. They were close enough for him to be allowing this, they have passed smaller gestures before after all, similar touches, even if none of it lasted. With some of his weight against her back he pressed his cheek softly to her hair when her head came to rest at his shoulder. She had his trust and this would not ruin it.

Beleg was not shy about accepting praise. Not arrogant and perhaps modest depending the given situation, but never shy. Yet here he had turned to a silent watchfulness, only listening as she pondered out loud, his expression likely to appear distraught by those unused to his presence.

Not Mablung.

She would have known better, would have been able to see the difference. Would have reacted in a more correct manner had she turned in time enough to see the way his face twisted, whether it came accompanied by confusion or not. It would have forced Beleg's eyes from their hands to seek her own, would have drawn his attention away from the sensations that came with the touch.

As that was not something currently taking place, the archer struggled in finding words to bring to his tongue. It was then that fingers ran his palms and he visibly flinched, though it was faint and seemed more toward the way it felt, not that he thought it awkward or intimate.

Right now it was less his palms that were of concern and it wasn't until they were turned back over to pay attention elsewhere that he tensed. His form entirely went tight, his hands rigid. "Is that right?" he forced, soft with as much amusement he could manage. He may not have tried to mask his discomfort, but he did try to dismiss and overcome it for he should. It was a silly thing, wasn't it? This really should be okay.

[viridfelicity]

Long the day had been, noisy and active. The end of it was yet to draw for a for hours more though at last it had quieted down. For the time being, rather, as they had also yet to return within the protective reaches of Doriath and its capitol.

Having travelled apart for quite some time and having little else left for remaining, Beleg sought his companion. It was more usual for them to return together even during times they left separate and he would not be the one attempting to change that. Not without Mablung knowing he was heading back.

She was still quite involved with the task by time Beleg spotted her from a distance. He watched carefully every move of her body as he approached, stopping by a rocky mound some small distance off. Before bothering to unlace the quiver from his side Beleg made sure there were no others nearby, nothing trying to slip in unnoticed, and settled upon a boulder that stood about to his knees. The sound of her bringing her weapon up through the air drew his eyes back to her and he smiled, bending so that he may perch his elbows upon his knees and place his chin within his hands. There we would sit until she was finished, waiting in silence.