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Caught...Post 2 [May. 4th, 2008|10:47 pm]
Way to Valinor

shadow_embrace
[Current Mood |artistic]
[Current Music |silence]

Alak was too stunned by the boy to be alert of his surroundings. His legs just moved and followed the boy. Alak was running blindly, his feelings being high on the thrill of seeing an elvish child. Children of drow were carefully hidden from the eyes of the beasts and the upper world. He supposed elven ones were cared for in much similar way since dark elves and the elves of the above were not so much different from each other. Except the skin, the bone constitution, hair, eyes and perhaps even other things. The only sadness Alak felt was toward his own. He couldn’t deny who he was, he couldn’t cut it out from himself, and he knew he will never fit in this world, these elves but he was in a way seeking something better. In essence he loved who he was but it was hard for him to survive when they all judged him by the looks.

They turned around a large oak tree and Alak managed to climb up the tree again. He felt following on foot might stir up the boy to turn around and see him while these branches were strutting with heavy golden leafs. It wasn’t hard to conceal himself from the eyes of a child. As much as he enjoyed following the boy he was also afraid of where this will lead him. He should have seen the guards by now or at least some scouts. There were none. He was wondering weather they are more guarding the halfling or truly their home. Or perhaps the white lady was having something plotting in her mind. He still didn’t dare to open up even if only to look, for risk was too great. He didn’t even want to use some of his own magic in this place. It would stain it and malice would find it even sooner.

“Hold your breath if you want to live!” he heard somebody say behind his back and as soon as he turned his eyes to catch the one, he felt the tip of an arrow being pressed against his cheek. Alak did not move or breathe as instructed. He calmly waited for further instructions.

“What is a foul blood like you doing here? You are aware you would never gotten far.“ came the words.

“I still had to try. There is no harm in that is there?“ Alak answered.

There was silence for a moment. Then all of a sudden the tip of the arrow that was already pressed against his cheek got even tighter and threatened to pierce his dark skin: “Get down from the tree. Calmly.“

Alak did so and as his boots hit the grounds he was able to see his attacker. The man was not new to this. He must have been in service for a long time and fought many battles. One warrior knows another by the eyes and those eyes were not filled with eagerness like with a child but more with sorrow and longing to leave this world.

“Now, give me all your weapons and gadgets you carry. I know your filthy kind can trick any eye they wish, even elvish one.“ Alak was firmly asked to give away his weapons. In other circumstances Alak would have defended himself or just simply run, however this particular situation was different. Getting to Lothlorien, to speak about the darkness that is nearing certain parts of Middle Earth, was too crucial to make one draw his sword. He obeyed as he pulled out his twin swords. The dark blades shone in late sun of the day and almost invited him to pick them up and swing. The beauty of how the twin swords presented themselves amazed the elf guard. It almost seemed as they were mocking the ever shining good that the elves represented. It was remarkable. Alak placed his bow and arrows before the guard’s feet while the guard was still observing the steel.

“And with this, that would be all I carry.“ Alak pointed out as he drew a dagger from his boot to throw it on the same pile where bow and arrows lay.

“Very good. Now your arms, I will have to tie them up as well as I will have to blindfold you if we go any further. I do not know what your intentions are but certainly you will be a good kill at the end of the day.“ the guard commented. Alak smirked a bit to himself for this man had a sense of humour. Elves held themselves ever so serious while they didn’t realize how amusing they were at times. He didn’t object, he calmly placed his arms behind his back while the guard firmly and tightly tied his wrists with one of those neatly made elven ropes. As soon as his wrists were tied Alak couldn’t help himself but grimace slightly for the rope was burning his flesh as well as his inside. It wasn’t enough the forest itself had such an effect on him, the rope was in contact with his skin but he was willing to bare it as long as it had a meaning. The elf guard blindfolded him and his eyes were veiled in darkness again. It almost seemed he could see through the fabric but he decided he would keep his eyes closed and respect their wishes. His wolf friend wasn’t far away following his sent. No matter what the consequences he will be able to find his way back.

They started walking. The terrain was sometimes steep and sometimes very flat as far as Alak could tell. Smells were getting intense and Alak could tell they were near the main city but all of a sudden they came to a halt. He was taken high in the branches where they sat him down on a hard platform. He could tell from the whispers around him, other scouts questioned his warden. Somebody walked up to him and Alak could tell it was not his captor: “ Give us one good reason to not send you to your death. “

“I have none to offer you and if you believe you should then I am at your disposal. My only request is to speak with the one who is in charge and calls himself Haldir. I know he resides in this dwelling. If after I am done speaking with him, he will decide I am to be killed so be it but before I give my life I really need to speak with him.“ Alak calmly answered despite the feeling of his shadowed heart beating restlessly in his chest urging him to breathe faster. Fear of losing his life was very much present for his wish was not to die now when he only started to live. He refused to give into his instincts and to battle these elves. He could killd them with a blink of an eye and escape, crush their skulls or inflict such tremedus pain with his magic even if it was not as powerful as it was when he was still a part of his culture.

“We shall indulge you and send for him but only because you know the name of Haldir. Remember foul creature he is the only ticket to keep your life.“ one of the elves told him as he walked away.

Alak crossed his legs, deeply inhaled and went into deep mediation. It was the only thing keeping him from going brutally violent against them. Without any words he sat there waiting for this one man with whom he might be able to deal for his freedom.

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OOC: Again you're welcome to comment. I would also like to comment on the post a bit. Alak was surprised over the boy and I have made the character open in case if 2he will be there later. I had to move him and speed things along for us to start posting and playing. *wink wink*
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My post #1 [May. 3rd, 2008|03:48 pm]
Way to Valinor

aaweth_edain
[Current Location |My desk in my room]
[Current Mood |thirstythirsty]
[Current Music |Ameno by Era, Lost by Michael Buble, & Spell by Marie Digby]

 OOC: I finally have posted! I hope this is OK! Would it be OK if I bring in a half elf male character later on? Oh, my avvie is what my character looks like, well anyway, here's my post!

BIC:

A misty ray of sunlight filtered through the arched stone window. A slight breeze ruffled the sheer curtains that flanked either side of the window. The same breeze ruffled the radiant locks of a she-elf whose back was towards the window. The radiant locks tumbled down over her thing shoulders in silky dark, red-brown strands. Part of her burnt ochre hair was plaited so that the sides were pulled away from her angular face. 
 
She stood rigid – listening. Her almond, shaped watery gray eyes were wide. Her lips were parted and he head was cocked off to one side as she stared blankly at the bed before her. In one pale, elegant hand, she held a small crystal vial that was filled with a pale periwinkle liquid. It matched the full length, Elanor flower embroidered, silken dress she wore.
 
 Aranel was a healer and she was very skilled at her job. At times, this was an occupation, which was hard for her. She sometimes became too attached to her patients and it was difficult for her not to become heartbroken if one of them died.  A she listened to the lament, she felt as she always did when one of her patients never healed. Her eyes closed. A tear trickled down her face. Aranel could scarcely believe what she was hearing. She could not believe what she was hearing.
 
Finally, she moved. She went first to the empty bedside. Aranel was about ready to place the vial, that was filled with a liquid to calm any fever, onto the carved wooden table, however she decided that she should not leave it out and about for anyone to take it if they so chose; however that had never happened in the millennium she had been a healer.
 
The elf turned on her heals. She strode out of the chamber; her slipper footfalls made very little sound – just a mere patter on the cool ancient stone.  She went to the massive, carved staircase and hurried down it. At every turn, her dress swished and rustled. She had to go see Níngabel and perhaps Haldir if she could. Aranel hoped in vain that Mithrandir had not fallen.
 
Aranel reached the entrance/exit. She went out the door and looked around. The wind met her face with the bitter melancholy of the lament echoing through the glades. She ran through the grounds of her home. She was blind to everyone and everything around her. ‘Níngabel, I must find her,’ kept pounding in her pointed ears.  The words flew through her mind and matched the speed of her breath and heartbeat.
 
She had to skirt around a small being – shorter then even a dwarf. She stopped at looked down at its curly head. His chubby face looked up at her. Tears fell down his dirty face. He was young, maybe of age – maybe not. She was unsure. Aranel had never seen a hobbit before so the elf was uncertain how they aged.
 
His mouth is open. He stares in dumbstruck up at her. All he does is nod. She smiles softly at him. From a pocket in her long sleeve, Aranel withdraws a handkerchief.  With no words, she hands it to him. Nodding once more to the dumbstruck, heavyhearted hobbit, she continues her search for Níngabel. Aranel wished that she could comfort the poor hobbit lad, but she could not stop. She had to find Miruvor and Aranel knew that she was near. “Níngabel,” Aranel called, “Are you near?”
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(no subject) [Apr. 30th, 2008|08:50 pm]
Way to Valinor
alyanome
Hello.

This play seemed to die at the very beginning of it. :P Is anyone going to post soon? I could interact with someone as long as they're near to Lorien.
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Stranger on the watch...Post 1 [Apr. 21st, 2008|11:36 pm]
Way to Valinor

shadow_embrace
[Current Mood |artistic]
[Current Music |silence]

He was perched on a branch of a large tree. Richly thick leafs hid him from the site of all eyes, even elven ones. He knew how to move and hide himself from the intruders of the world. Long years of training, bloody sweat put into working to profound the skills he possessed and endless covering the truth of what his race was and how they lived, taught him how to be invisible.

He was holding his left had above himself, clutching a thinner branch while he had his right hand ready to grasp his sword and pull it out from its sheath. His eyes followed every move of every leaf, grass or a living being. The air was foul so he knew the enemy was near. He knew that for a long time now. For him it wasn’t hard to tell when those foul creatures were on the hunt. Their smell was carried by the winds for miles and miles. In his time when he still lived in the underworld full of darkness and dark secrets he met many foul creatures. Alak wouldn’t even dare to utter their names in the open. Not here, so close to the Golden Wood and so close to the thoughts of the White Lady. The rumours whispered of her knowing ones thoughts once near the wood. He kept his mind closed for he did not wish any of the elves to sense him around. They would go hunting him down like a stray dog not understanding why he is there. He watched them sometimes how merciless they were in their killings but the foul beasts they killed deserved every slash with their perfectly designed weapons. How those weapons shone. His blades were dark, nothing compared to those that elves carried around but he loved them. Two twin swords were his companions. He could trust the steel of darkness more than he could trust any creature. While he knew every single thing there is about dark ones, he barely knew any of the light and the above world. Ever since his eyes saw daylight Alak couldn’t get enough of it. There were wonders above he adored more than the plains of darkness where only a solid rock survived for centuries. Nothing was growing in there, not even moss. It was bare, hard, and merciless like the life he was first born to.

He placed his hood lower over his head still focusing on the surroundings. It was close to the nighttime and the winds were calming down. It was like peace before the storm. Alak’s plan was to get really close to Lothlorien to find a way to carry the news of danger. Not only orcs were tracking the halfling and his company, however things far bigger than mere orcs were creeping in silence to harm and demolish this sanctuary of peace. For Alak it was complicated to step in the forests of Lothlorien for he could feel the burning of the elvish magic. He was a being of darkness, his skin and his vessel were not made to face such places in full. They were made to destroy such places, to be disgusted by them and not to preserve them like it was in Alak’s mind.

He jumped from the tree and landed silently next to the trunk. He turned his head over his shoulder to check his back. It was covered by a great black wolf, which was hiding in the shadows of a bush. Alak nodded and they slowly moved toward the border of the Golden Wood. Just as they came near enough the forest to enter it, Alak’s ears caught up a slight, gentle whisper of the leafs near by. His hands quickly searched for one of his swords while his moved to cover.

“ Keep your eyes opened my dear friend. This time it is not the wind that disturbs this place. “ Alak whispered to the great wolf as he brushed his fingers against the soft fur of the beast. The wolf turned around and slowly trotted away to find a suitable hiding place. Alak’s hands clutched the handle of his sword even tighter while leaning against the tree trunk. He didn’t like surprises and this was most certainly a surprise for him. Somebody was crossing this path to reach the forest. Judging from the steps this somebody was in a hurry. Alak tried to make out who or what it was just by listening to the rustling, which was coming ever so closer followed by gentle steps.

“A child!” his mouth breathed when his eyes saw the small head of a boy. Alak was stunned. He has never seen an elven child before. He saw grown ups, he fought them, killed them and admired them when he reached the light of these lands.

There were many things he would have to learn and understand. Living in pits of darkness and malice wasn’t ideal to study the elves of upper world. He still would have been there if he didn’t get tired of killing, of everlasting darkness, of constant plotting against beings that haven’t done anything wrong. It was simply illogical to him. He saw beauty in the trees, animals, and different races. His eyes wanted to see the sun despite the fact he knew he won’t be able to see so good in the dark anymore. Many things changed for Alak since he escaped the grips of the Dark Lord who called himself Sauron. A puppet wanting to copy Morgoth but that was something he didn’t want to think about at the moment. His fingers slowly softened the grip of the handle and his arm bent down with reflex while the ever watching eyes observed this wonderful boy trying to get to Lothlorien as quickly and quietly as possible.

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OOC: Finally I managed to write it out. Feel free to comment. I'm a bit rusty but I think for the first post I did quite well. It's fun to do this again and I hope we're all going to enjoy it. Also you are free to give ideas how we should turn and where we should go. Am pretty happy for this. I just wish I was inspired by this piece with music. I wrote it in silence so...yeah. Inspiration has a weird way of working. *wink wink*
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[Aerlinn, Lanthir] post #1 [Apr. 19th, 2008|05:17 pm]
Way to Valinor

enchanter
[Current Music |Howard Shore :: Lothlórien]

The forest floor reeked of decay. Of death. It had been a long time since the very Lothlórien air smelled of that - a sense of ending, of passing, of doom.

And yet, the world was alive, the city of Caras Galadhon like a living organism that never slept. Footfalls too soft for a mortal's ear caressed the earth. Softer still, this looming dawn. Grief stirred beneath the trees. A powerful disturbance, some said, shaking their heads in gestures of childish denial. Inevitable change. It was meant to come to pass, and come it had.

There had been murmurs along the border since the previous afternoon. A Fellowship had traveled, leagues upon leagues on foot, battling thunder and rain and endless snow of the Hithaeglir. Aragorn son of Arathorn, unearthed of a sudden after years of absence. The son of the Steward of Gondor - Boromir, they called him. A strange breed of a companion to one Elessar, would-be king, Isildur's heir. An unlikely follower indeed, of the very man who would - or wouldn't - remove his father from his White City throne.

A small matter, that. Let the mortal men solve their own disputes, by word or sword, as they see fit.

The wardens had sighted Thranduilion with them, no longer a child it seemed, but one grown enough to fill the garb of responsibility like he was meant to. And hobbits - strange creatures of small posture and hairy feet. Expected to sing and laugh and eat like the tales of them proclaimed, they were yet somber, soot-stained faces twisted in grief.

They had a dwarf with them, an offence to this land that the Lady had yet chosen to suffer. Would that Haldir's party had stopped him from ever setting foot in the Golden Wood. His breath alone made enough noise to scare the birds in the trees.

The One Ring between them, a spring of malice leaking poison into their veins. A tear of sulfur from the Great Eye. What was Lord Elrond *thinking*?

"Is it--"

He waved the boy to silence. Predictably, to no avail.

"--as evil as they say?"

"Be quiet."

"The ring, Aerlinn." So, the obstinate child would not be hushed. "Tell me about the ring."

"I will not speak of evil where the Lady can hear." The edge of the forest, some twenty paces away, held his attention. "I advise you to do the same."

The young knew so little of the world from before these times of shadow and threat. Wickedness now lurked so near these trees, having found Lothlórien at last - too near to pass unheeded.

Lanthir shifted his weight from one foot to the other, all but bursting with excitement. Surprising patience in a child so loath to stay in one place too long. The whole night Lanthir had held vigil and kept him company, all brave and proud of his young warden self. He hadn't dared breach the subject of the ring in the darkness, yet as the night waned and a gray light crept towards their post from the clearing, the boy's curiosity broke the leash.

"Too evil to speak of it?"

"Enough to turn you to stone should you but look upon it."

Giggling, Lanthir stretched and caught a yawn behind his hand. "Then wouldn't the one who carries it--"

In one swift movement, just as a dark shape flicked in the periphery of his vision, Aerlinn closed the boy's mouth with his hand. "Shh."

At the forest's edge, a shadow stirred again. Watching, waiting - Aerlinn heard nothing, yet his eyes couldn't have been deceived. What spell closed an elf's ears to the sound of creeping enemies? What enchantment soothed the senses that he felt no danger from so close a presence? The morning light seemed somehow sickly, an odd dimness to it.

A pair of large, gray eyes stared upward at him, their playfulness gone.

"Move quickly," Aerlinn whispered, adjusting Lanthir's cloak before squeezing his shoulders a bit. "Light as a feather on the breeze, like I taught you."

The boy nodded. A shadow of fear came and went across his face. "Where should I go?"

"Away from the border." The boy should not have come here; he should not have yielded to the pleas. "Haldir's gone into the city. Find him. Make sure he knows the Ringbearer has orc-scum on his heels."


--
So. :) No, I have no idea where this is going. ;-) I wrote like I write my originals, just letting the character do what they want to do. The boy wasn't supposed to be there - he just appeared out of nowhere in the scene, so there he is. Feel free to interact with either of them - I'm improvising, and will need prompting to figure out how to keep going.

Hope you enjoyed.
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First post! [Apr. 18th, 2008|09:23 pm]
Way to Valinor

alyanome
Eeep! Sorry it's so short! Remind you that I haven't used my english for a while enough not to mention that I haven't been writing anything in ages. So excuses said. Here it comes. Oh! Lament by Elizabeth Frazer.

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It was early in the morning, sun hadn't risen yet and only few birds were testing their singing abilities. Still it was about the time when Níngabel usually woke up. She reached her hand on her side but found nothing – the bed beside her was empty. She knew she was alone but every morning she reached her hand just in case. She then stretched herself and sat up looking in the dim room. Lantern had gone out long time ago. She left it lit every evening just in case. She shivered a little but resisted the will of going back under the blankets and took her beautiful morning gown from a chair instead. She tiptoed barefoot into the citchen and made some miruvor and ate lembas with it.

Miruvor was good help with refreshing and soon she had switched her clothes and was down from the mallorn to go to her working talan. She had very anxious and determined customers – they knew exactly what they wanted and in what timeline.

Her mornings started with cutting fabrics, sewing and embroidery – she used her evenings for walking around getting inspired by the nature for her patterns in clothes she made for elves. Little bit after the sunrise first customers usually came to fit clothes. She had carefully scheduled them so nobody interrupted their moment. She had always a bowl of miruvor and some sweets (not sticky, sticky sweet around special fabrics was a dangerous combination) for her and the customers to enjoy while needing a break from tiring standing still and bowing and pinching accidentally the customer with a needle.

She had been working on this special fabric for few weeks already, it was ordered by Lady Galadriel herself. She had wanted some blue with birds. Níngabel had chosen small slender birds which she embroidered in blue to the hem of a white dress with some branches and leaves of various shades of blue. She was going to continue the branch pattern on the large sleeves as well. As a fabric she used finest in elven world – it was little bit difficult to embroider but it was totally worth the work, colors always came out stunning on it and it was soft and pleasant to wear.

”How can you take it?” Níngabel looked up from the hems she was adjusting for the customer. ”Take what?” she replied laughing a bit.
”Haldir being away all the time, on the borders, in the danger? Don't you worry about him?” Níngabel stopped for a moment to think about the question. Oh didn't she worry about him. She was constantly worrying, she just hid it by working and doing something most of the time. ”Oh I trust in his brothers, that they will watch over him and hold his back...” she sighed before continuing ”and that they will bring him home if... if needed.” The customer shook her head. ”I couldn't live like that.”

Níngabel was thinking about their little discussion while she walked around the forest. It was true, it was very wearing relationship. But she truly deeply loved Haldir. She couldn't imagine to live with anybody else but him. All deep in her thoughts she realized that she had been out long and sun was already setting. She sprang to a light run just to clear her head and reached gates of Caras Galadhon pretty soon in that pace. City seemed oddly quiet, she saw only few elves hurrying to their destinations.

When she reached the top of her home stairs she realized that the lantern was lit. Her heart leaped and tiny sharp gasp escaped her lips. Haldir! Slightly shaking she stepped inside. Haldir was leaning on kitchen doorframe smirking mischievously. For a moment Níngabel stood still and then she was over the distance and in Haldir's arms who was laughing at her joy. For a moment they just embraced each other but then Haldir pushed her little bit off of himself. ”Listen” he said, ”the fellowship from Rivendell arrived today. Lord Celeborn has asked that nobody will bother them during their staying at Lothlórien.” Níngabel saw from his face that it wasn't all of the news but didn't urge him.

Before he could continue a sound of singing elves was heard and Haldir led their way outside. ”Mithrandir has fallen” he finally said in grave tone.

A Olórin i yáresse
Mentaner i Númeherui
Tírien i Rómenóri
Maiaron i Oiosaila
Manan elye etevanne
Nórie i melanelye?

Mithrandir, Mithrandir, A Randir Vithren
ú-reniathach i amar galen
I reniad lín ne môr, nuithannen
In gwidh ristennin, i fae narchannen
I lach Anor ed ardhon gwannen
Calad veleg, ethuiannen. ***

Lament was heard everywhere in Lothlórien making Níngabel's heart squirm from sadness even though she had never known Mithrandir more than from the stories. Haldir's warm safe arms around her made her feel slightly better while they sat outside listening to the singing. Níngabel closed her eyes and let the sad but beautiful music flow through herself.
Nightingales started from where the lamentation ended and still the two sat in darkening night. Blue lights were lit in between the branches of mellyrn and Haldir lit one above the two. They were just enjoying of each other's company before they moved back in to sleep.


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*** Olórin, who once was...
Sent by the Lords of the West
To guard the lands of the East
Wisest of all Maiar
What drove you to leave
That which you loved?

Mithrandir, Mithrandir, O Pilgrim Grey
No more will you wander the green fields of this earth
Your journey has ended in darkness.
The bonds but, the spirit broken
The Flame of Anor has left this World
A great light, has gone out.
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