ilumarae

[ilumarae]

            She held his gaze, a breath falling from her nose as she exhaled, and let her shoulders fall. Certainly she had known he was handsome; it was his humor and sense of awareness that attracted her in the first place! But, the Silvan Elf couldn't help the swelling in her chest as the injured Dwarf began to fret over her. To this, Tauriel simply batted her heavy lids and shook her head his way.

          "I am sorry," the apology brushed past her lips as she spoke, regret filling the words and weighing them down. The sank alongside her commanding facade, wilting into a blush. "The cold aided the fever prior; it will help."

           When his hand fell atop of her own, the Elf gave a slight smile, nearly glowing in the light of his own. "I promise you will return to full health, Kili. -- And I do not make promises often."

          Taking the calloused, battle-worn hand into her own, she turned it over, carefully tracing the heart lines creased into his palm; Tauriel admired each and every bend, curve, scar and blister as she spoke, her whisper teeming with lightheartedness.

           "It was a term of endearment," she muttered, "Aier -- Short one, I believe, would provide as the proper translation."

            Her eyes were full of a youthful mischief, one that she had long since been robbed of, and the Elf couldn't help but let an airy laugh escape her chest as she let one of her hands return to his hair, soothing the strands around his face. Her fingertips grazed his cheek; the feverish feel was already receding. 

                                              "--I do believe it fits quite well."

⊱ fairytales by firelight ⊰ || naugriim

         ❝ You ought to sleep, ❞ The dwarf repeated, his voice soft but insisting, as he sought out Tauriel’s gleaming bright eyes with wonderment and fascination. She has lovely eyes, he thought, a short smile gracing his lips; as beautiful as stars, the distant, cold stars. 

                    ❝ Did I now? ❞ The constant reminder of how painfully weak he had been annoyed him to a certain degree - on the contrary - he was glad to know that she cared,  ❝ But I am better now, so you need not worry yourself. In fact, you needn’t ever worry. ❞

       Kili had always been quick witted, but sickly as he was, he found it to be quite difficult. The fever was weakening him for sure, but he would not admit to that. 

                  Flinching ever so slightly when a cool cloth was placed gently against his burning forehead, a soft groan escaped him. ❝ Is that really necessary? ❞ He complained, uncomfortable with how terribly dizzy the cold made him feel. Again, he wasn’t used to being weak for he had always been much the opposite - always reckless and filled with the bravery of youth.

      Soundlessly he lifted  one of his large, rough hand, and rested it upon hers.He did not understand her care for him, but appreciated it even so. Looking at her, he smiled an effortless smile, and said  ❝ And, if I may ask, what was that you called me? Aieiar? ❞  No, that was not it, but she would know what he meant, for it was the only elvish word she had spoken since he had awoken.

               Kili wondered if it was hard to learn - it was a fine language, fine and soft-spoken, but it was not like khuzdul, the language of his own kin. If ever he came across Gandalf again, he’d make sure to ask him to teach him a few words. Yes, once he was healthy again, he would be able to do so. 

[ilumarae]

I AM SORRY FRIENDS

I WISH I WAS BETTER AT THE ART THING *sobs*

I have this huge head canon that Kili and Tauriel just spend hours sitting secluded exchanging stories - but most of the time it winds up with Tauriel talking about her stories, and lore about elves while she combs his hair and braids it and puts flowers in his hair and Kili does not care, because he loves listening to Tauriel talk and finds her infinitely interesting

[ilumarae]

Kili honestly was the best part of this movie.

[ilumarae]

          Her brows crease, and her mouth curls as an airy laugh escapes upon her breath. Dropping her bow, she sheaths the arrow quickly, wasting no time to watch Caspian -- an odd name for a handsome face -- and scrutinize him carefully.

        "This Narnia you speak of--," she utters, circling the Seafarer as a predator would a prey, "-- You are aware it does not exist?"

             Her tone is riddled with amusement as she stalks, eyeing him like a hawk.

      "Perhaps Caspian the Seafarer has his mind clouded by pipe weed; perhaps you're not a Seafarer at all."

            Tauriel's tone is only playful -- curious, more so -- than hostile. Yet, delicate hands still rest posed on the hilt of her knife.

"Mirkwood?"

His brows draw together — first in confusion, then in stubborn challenge. She moves swift as a breeze, and the woods close in about him, offering no escape, but a king does not run, and a king will shrink not from a threat, or he is no king at all.

(Nor does a king stand to have his honor insulted by insinuations of trickery and lies.)

His eyes remain calm, wary, level on her face; the only flinch is a muscle tightening in his jaw. “I am Caspian, called Seafarer, and I know not this name, nor this place, nor you, protector of the trees, guardsman of the woods. You are like to no Daughter of Eve I have seen before.”

She holds herself with the grace of a queen and the strength of a soldier; he thinks of Queen Susan and Queen Lucy, hears the word valiant, but she does not look like them, and she does speak like them, and this is not the land beyond the standing wave.

"Every wood and glen in Narnia is as familiar to me as my own breath, lady. Mirkwood is the name of none.”

[ilumarae]

where did you get the DOS gifs? do you have a download link?

out of character;;

here we are!

[ilumarae]

[ilumarae]

          "Herein lies Mirkwood," her tone was curt, "You stand among the forest; the jurisdiction which I have vowed to protect."

                However, her head tilted a bit in confusion. firey tresses cascading past her shoulder as she did so. "Yet, you seem to know not of my kind -- Of my home."

                                          A tentative step forward followed her voice.

                                               "What do they call you, stranger?" 

          In that moment, her bow was raised and with a delicate shrank, the arrow was drawn. Tauriel kept the sight trained upon him as she continued.

                  "--And do not dare attempt to trick me with silvertongued lies, traveler."

"My business is my own." His tone is short and his shoulders straight, but he would be a fool to provoke the archer, and relents. "If I have trespassed, I did so in ignorance."

She holds the bow taut, and he would marvel at her strength and discipline, were he not lost, were the flags of Cair Paravel within his sight, did her clear words yet not fall incomprehensible on his ears.

"This land is unfamiliar to me; I would bid you name it. Speak plain, lady — your tongue is fair, yet I know it not."

[ilumarae]

wooooooaaaaahhh it's munday, ain't it?

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what do u mean this scene was serious 

[ilumarae]

[ilumarae]

                                                               ▬

                                                   It is ＭＥＭＯＲＹ;

                                   ⊱    ＰＲＥＣＩＯＵＳ & ＰＵＲＥ    ⊰    

                                             like your ＰＲＯＭＩＳＥ

                                                               ▬

[ilumarae]

Reblog if you are a The Hobbit roleplayer

And I will put your url in this masterlist here. OC’s and possible genderbents will be added as well.

[ilumarae]

              Her bow remains heavy in her hands, the string taut with an unsung arrow.

       Tauriel's gaze narrows upon the man; he held himself with respect -- with intelligence. While bright eyes flick between his face and blade, the Silvan elf speaks quickly.

                  "State your business," she uttered firmly, "--Mani naa essa en lle?"

This is not one of the treefolk.

She moves light and graceful as a dryad, but there is purpose in her step and a fierce light in her eyes alien to the gentle daughters of the trees.

This is not one of the treefolk, no matter her delicate beauty. This is one who would not hesitate to draw steel.

Caspian stands firm, lifts his hand purposely far from the hilt of the blade at his hip. “Nay, lady. I am no highwayman, to accost you such.”

[ilumarae]

          Tauriel would have been lying if she said the brew didn't smell enticing; however, her smile was fleeting as she approached, bow in hand and fingers brushing the feathers of a arrow within her quiver.

                          She was ready to pluck one and aim if needed be.

                                                                  "Quel lome."

vekthedwarf

xvanim

ilumarae

   ”Come closer, come closer. I am just about to finish this stew…” The lady mused, eyes fixed on the pot above the campfire, a wooden spoon circling inside as she contently smirked at her dinner. She didn’t care who’d approached her, a certain amout of manners was always mandatory.

[ilumarae]

            Her gaze had been fading; the once bright eyes paling with the steady beat of fear running through her veins. It was only when she heard his voice -- quiet and careful -- that they were given life. 

           Tauriel snapped upright, her face dipping into a gentle smile as she quickly reached to soothe the Heir's head. Fingers tugged strands of mousy hair from his face gentling. He felt hot -- an unhealthy heat pouring from his skin.

           "Sleep matters not. I will rest once you are better, aier," The Elvish rolled off her tongue, laced with endearment, "For now, this fever is what we must work to rid you of." 

                                             Tauriel offered tired smile.

           She stood -- careful not to wake the others -- and gathered the wash cloth and pail that the eldest girl, Sigrid, had been kind enough to fetch earlier in the eve. Tauriel had already used it once that night prior; it had helped substantially. Returning, the elf wrung the cool cloth out with one movement before placing it against his head, gentle fingers soothing the fabric to rest upon his temples.

                                   "You gave us all quite the scare, Kili."

          Her voice was far too quiet for her own liking. She sounded weak. But, in truth, he had made her so... Worrisome had served as her weakness for the dwarf; it still did.

⊱ fairytales by firelight ⊰ || naugriim

           Pain lingered in every limp of his body, making moving entirely unbearable. This pain, this curse, ought to have killed him, yet somehow he was still there. 

                               A dream he had thought it to be at first, but a slight glimpse of his brother had been enough to convince him otherwise - he would not dream of his dwarven friends nor would he dream of children, children of men least of all. Kili’s dreams would - undoubtedly- be some of unearthly beauty.

             Soft-spoken whispers awoke him, the feminine whispers were voicing tales, tales of things unknown to him; rattling streams and sunlight seemed no more than a distant memory - a dream. 

                             Sleepily, he batted his eyelids, making attempt to overrule his own overall exhaustion. He had seldom in his life felt this tired. Not even their - his own and Fili’s- quests and adventures had ever worn him out in this manner.

                        Half asleep still, he caught the fingers gently travelling along the fabric of his shirt. A soft, delicate hand was what he then found.  

                                     { Tauriel }

               The elven maiden had taken him by surprise; her strength and beauty all combined. He was aware that because of her, his life would continue to linger, least for awhile yet.  

                        He had not seen her, nor heard her move, so when suddenly she was there - close enough for him to breathe in her sweet sent - he was utterly surprised.

              ❝ You ought to sleep, your concern is draining you from energy. ❞ 

                       The words, husky and quiet, had come out less audible than he had expected. Kili was still unaccustomed to his own weakness. 

[ilumarae]

Kili notices for the first time that well… elves can be really pretty. really really pretty. really really really pretty.

yeah, you can hear Thorin, Dwalin and Gloin screaming their disapproval if you listen closely. and Bofur laughing, that too.

[ilumarae]

night folks!