#elven leaf brooch

[olessan]

[sillylotrpolls]

[themuseinthewoods]

Daughter of Warriors-Chapter forty-eight: The four hunters meet the Riders of Rohan

(the masterlist)

i love this drawing

Amira was used to traveling for a long time at varying different speeds and even she could admit that this was hard. Her muscles were burning, her feet felt like they were going to fall off and her shoulders were sore from her pack bouncing up and down, and while she desperately tried to hold it still and she wished her underclothes could have held her chest still with less constant subtle adjusting.

Legolas kept going between the three and Amira and Gimli were about ready to throttle him. “Hurry up Gimli!” The blonde elf turned and ran backwards for a few minutes before turning and hurrying up to Aragorn’s side. “"I'm wasted on Cross Country. We dwarves are natural sprinters. Very dangerous over short distances.” Gimli joked to his friend and she giggled but shook her head, trying to regulate her breathing better. It was hard considering Legolas and Aragorn had slightly longer legs. To Legolas Gimli yelled over. "Dwarves too can go swiftly, and they do not tire sooner than Orcs." “Yes, we shall all need the endurance of Dwarves.” Aragorn spoke, placating and Amira sighed and began to push harder, she and the dwarf beginning to catch up to the other two.

It took several moments for Aragorn to realize that the figure with the long hair beside him was not the blonde strands of Legolas but the brown ones of Amira. They went on like that for several days. Occasionally Aragorn would stoop to the ground and inspect the prints. Once, he picked up a leaf brooch, one of the ones that had come with the cloaks from Merry or Pippin. “Not idly do the leaves of Lorien fall.” Despite the grim circumstances, he felt his stomach flutter at the smile of hope she gifted the world and she hugged him tightly before hurrying off down the path of obvious orc tracks. The giggling from Legolas and Gimli did nothing to help.

Aragorn did have to pull her back when he spotted the riders and did not want her to be trampled and as Amira had simply planned for them to keep moving in the other direction once they had passed them by, she was surprised when Aragorn stood and walked forward. “Riders of Rohan! What news from the north?” The heir shouted and Amira gave him a look. “What are you doing?!” She hissed at him as the wave of horses uniformly turned and moved in their direction. “Getting their attention.” He held onto her tightly as the soldiers surrounded them and pointed spears in their faces.

A tall man jumped from his horse, handing his spear to one who got down beside him and drawing his sword to face Aragorn, he had a horse tail on the top of his helmet, unlike the others. He had brown eyes and a short, neatly trimmed mustache, he had armor with complex designs on it. “What business do you have in the riddermark?” He paused for a moment. “Speak quickly. How were you not spotted? Are you elves? There is a strange magic about you.” Amira opened her mouth to object but only got a small noise out before Legolas hit her in the ribs subtly and she let out a yelp. “And you bring a woman with you.” The man stated with more suspicion, though a general sneer seemed to overtake the company. “Nay, only Leoglas is of the elven folk, we are held in favor by the lady of the golden wood.” Amira spoke respectfully. A strange and untrusting muttering came about the group and a dark look of mistrust flashed across the man's face. “So it is true that a lady dwells there, few escape her golden net they say in old legends.” His eyes narrowed.” Your names.” He said more insistently now “Give me your horse master and I shall give you mine.” Amira wanted to smack Gimli and she had to restrain herself.

“A stranger should declare himself first. Yet I am named Éomer son of Eomund, and am called the Third Marshal of Riddermark.” “Then Éomer son of Éomund, Third Marshal of Riddermark, let Gimli the Dwarf Glóin's son warn you against foolish words. You speak evil of that which is fair beyond the reach of your thought, and only little wit can excuse you.”

Éomer's eyes blazed, and the Men of Rohan murmured angrily, and closed in, advancing their spears. “I would cut off your head, beard and all, Master Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground,” Eomer’s voice was filed with barely controlled anger.

"He stands not alone,' said Legolas, bending his bow and fitting an arrow with hands that moved quicker than the sight of a mortal man could comprehend. “You would die before your stroke fell.” Éomer raised his sword, and Amira released herself from Aragorn and stepped between the two. “Your pardon, Éomer!” Aragorn spoke with earnestness. “When you know more you will understand why you have angered our companions. We intend no evil to Rohan, nor to any of its folk, neither to man nor to horse. Will you not hear our tale before you strike?”

“I will.” Éomer lowered his blade. “But wanderers in the Riddermark would be wise to be less haughty in these days of doubt. First tell me your name.” “First tell me whom you serve. Are you a friend or foe of Sauron, the Dark Lord of Mordor?" Amira knew he was being cautious but she also felt that this was overly so.

"I serve only the Lord of the Mark, Théoden King son of Thengel,” Declared Éomer. “We do not serve the Power of the Black Land, but neither are we yet at open war with him; and if you are fleeing from him, then you had best leave this land. There is trouble now on all our borders, and we are threatened; but we desire only to be free, and to live as we have lived, keeping our own, and serving no foreign lord, good or evil. We welcomed guests kindly in the better days, but in these times the unbidden stranger finds us swift and hard. Come! Who are you? Whom do you serve? At whose command do you hunt Orcs in our land?" “I serve no man, but the servants of Sauron I pursue into whatever land they may go. There are few among mortal Men who know more of Orcs; and I do not pursue them in this fashion out of choice. The Orcs who we pursue took captive two of my friends. In such need a man that has no horse will go on foot, and he will not ask for leave to follow the trail. Nor will he count the heads of the enemy save with a sword. I am not weaponless.” Aragorn threw back his cloak. 

The elven-sheath glittered as he grasped it, and the bright blade of Andúril shone like a sudden flame as he swept it out (Amira felt this was slightly dramatic considering everything but continued to keep her head down). “Elendil!” he cried. “I am Aragorn son of Arathorn, and am called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dúnadain, the heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor. Here is the Sword that was Broken and is forged again! Will you aid me or thwart me? Choose swiftly!” Gimli and Legolas looked at their companion in amazement, for they had not seen him in this mood before. He seemed to have grown in stature while Éomer had shrunk; and in his living face they caught a brief vision of the power and majesty of the kings of stone that had been glimpsed along the river. For a moment it seemed to Legolas that a white flame flickered on the brows of the king like a crown.

Éomer stepped back and a look of awe was in his face. “Tell me, lord,” he said, once he seemed to have recovered, “what brings you here? And what was the meaning of the dark words? Long has Boromir son of Denethor been gone seeking an answer, and the horse that we lent him came back riderless. What doom do you bring out of the North?” Amira sucked in a deep breath. The death of her friend flashing suddenly across her mind.

"The doom of choice,” said Aragorn grimly. “You may say this to Théoden son of Thengel: open war lies before him, with Sauron or against him. None may live now as they have lived, and few shall keep what they call their own. But of these great matters we will speak later. If chance allows, I will come myself to the king. Now I am in great need, and I ask for help, or at least for tidings. You heard that we are pursuing an orc-host that carried off our friends. What can you tell us?”

Amira heard him speak of the slaughtering of the orc host and that none had been found and she pulled her hood back up, hiding her face completely. Her ears seemed to buzz, why hadn’t she tried to convince Merry and Pippin to not come? Had she let her own selfish desire for friends lead them to their deaths?

She had completely spaced out of everything. She missed Aragorn explaining how he had set out and all the stuff she probably would have found interesting. Finally, when she noticed a lull in the conversation, she reached out and hesitantly gripped Aragorn’s hand and whispered softly in elvish, looking into his blue eyes and pleading with him to listen to her, not noticing (or disregarded) how his eyes softened and he seemed to calm. “Please, can we see if it is true?” Aragorn turned to Eomer. “Could we borrow a few of your horse’s? We shall return them with all due haste, but Amira, my right hand, was close to the two hobbits and she wishes to make absolutely sure.” “Of course my lady. I only have three.” Gimli immediately began protesting riding at all, saying he could keep up on foot. “I do not think…that I shall be able to ride alone should it be true.” Amira admitted in a shameful murmur to the man whose hand she still held. “It is alright, Amira will ride with me. Gimli, you can ride with Legolas.” Aragorn winked at her and then led her by the hand after him as he followed Eomer to the horse’s. It was entertaining to listen to Legolas instruct the men to remove the saddle, which in turn made Gimli even more uncomfortable with the whole arrangement.

Aragorn climbed onto the steed and pulled the woman up behind him. She was sitting half on the saddle and half on the horse's bareback and gripped the man in front of her tightly. As they rode towards the smoke in the distance, Amira found herself preparing for the worst.

(the masterlist)

[halsinsbiceps]

The Dance of the Dryads

Here it is!

I'm so excited (and nervous!) to share my very first smut fic with you all! It's a sort-of companion piece to my main fic, A Great and Sudden Change, but it can be read on its own as well.

Please be kind with your comments, and ENJOY!

Fic below the cut or over on AO3.

F/M

Halsin (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s)

Romance Smut Fluff My First Smut Fluff and Smut Okay I think you get it Soulmates Thiramin Kissing Cunnilingus Vaginal Fingering Penetration what else do i put Post-Coital Cuddling Breeding Kink You know Halsin has a breeding kink Halsin -Freeform

The thin silver clasp twisted under Enelya's fingers as she attempted to fasten the oak leaf-shaped pin at her shoulder. She cursed as the fastening jabbed her finger and a bead of blood welled up. She stuck her knuckle into her mouth before it could stain the white cloth of her dress.

"Everything alright?" Francesca poked her head around the curtain. 

Enelya released her hand from her mouth and examined her skin. "More or less," she said with a sigh. "I wield a dagger easily enough, you'd think I could handle a brooch."

"Let me see." She turned and handed Francesca the offending clasp, stooping a bit to let the smaller elf reach her shoulder. She fastened it with ease and smoothed out the surrounding fabric with her delicate fingers.

"Nel, you look amazing."

"So do you, Francesa," she replied with a smile. She turned to examine herself in the mirror. The blonde hair she usually tied back hung in loose, natural waves around her shoulders, obscuring the vine tattoo that ran along the sides of her face and neck before plunging over her shoulders and down her back. Her face was clear of any kohl or stain. The Dryad Dance was a ritual to revere nature in all its forms; makeup was strictly forbidden. Why makeup and not clothing, Enelya wondered, but she supposed civilization has enough of an influence at this point that modesty was a redeeming quality in the eyes of many.

Francesca's gray eyes met her brown ones in their reflection. "Are you ready?" She asked. "We're about to begin."

Enelya nodded. They left the rooms where a dozen druids had prepared for the beginning of the ritual, dressing themselves in clean white robes that draped loosely across their bodies. The men kept their chests bare, but everyone's arms were adorned with bands of oak leaves.

As they lined up at the base of the treeline surrounding the Grandfather Tree, Enelya's insides tingled with anticipation. It had been some time since she had partaken in the Dryad Dance; usually she was stationed deeper in the island, scouting and guarding the lands along the Unicorn Run or the many shrines to the Elven gods. Even when she was present, she had never performed any of the ritual dances. This would be the first time she did so, and as a newly ordained High Ranger of Mielikki, no less.

Her heart swelled with pride and gratitude. 

Within the clearing, hundreds of elves, druids, and rangers from across Faerun gathered to take part in the holy celebration of Silvanus. They talked and laughed and drank in the dying daylight as they waited for the carousing to begin. Once the sun had set and the torches lining the grove were lit, the first dance would begin, and when it was done, the dryads and hamadryads would emerge from the forest to mingle - and mate, at times - with the revelers.

A small hand slipped into hers and squeezed her fingers lightly. Enelya caught Francesca's hand and pulled her to her side, the smaller woman laughing as she stumbled into her embrace. 

"You'll be great," she whispered up at Enelya. Her hair fell about her face, catching in her eyelashes and on her petal-pink lips. Francesca was as elven as they come, with a petite, slender frame and long, dark tresses. She was calm and patient and wise - born to lead, a natural fit as a First Druid. She was all the things Enelya was not, but despite their differences and childhood rivalry, they had become close friends.

Enelya thanked her friend and sent her back to find her place as the forest finally shrouded them in darkness. A hush fell over the clearing, and for a few heartbeats, all of nature seemed to hold its breath.

Then, with a sudden thunder of drums, the torches were lit and the ritual began.

Enelya's body moved of its own accord, keeping time with the music as she stepped forward into the clearing with the rest of the performers. Her hips rolled sensually; her hands turned gracefully at the wrist. She swayed like the bough of a willow tree, moving along the perimeter of bystanders to encircle the Grandfather Tree. Once everyone was in place, they approached the tree reverently, caressing the rough bark as if it were the skin of a lover. 

Pipes rang out, bright and ethereal, and Enelya spun in place, planting her feet into the earth as she rolled her body up from her knees to her neck. Her hair fell in a curtain over her eyes as she swung her head in a circle. She brought her arms up to sweep it back from her face, her fingers brushing against her flushed skin, when the hair along her arms and the back of her neck began to raise.

She snapped her head up to glance around her but continued to dance, the music driving her body almost without thought. She searched the crowd as she spun past, their faces a blur, yet the prickling along her skin didn't stop. 

She was being watched. 

With a final few beats from the drum, Enelya threw herself to her knees on the ground and flung her head back, arms wide to welcome the spirits of the forest and the god Silvanus to their domain. Cheers and shouts of excitement erupted on all sides of her, and she couldn't help the smile that split her face as she caught her breath. She continued to rake her eyes over the throng, looking for the person whose gaze lingered on her. Several people gave her a quick smile or a word of praise before glancing away; no one met her eyes directly. The drums and pipes struck up a new song, quick and light. 

Francesca bounded up to her, eyes shining. The smile fell from her face when she saw Enelya's puzzled look. "Nel, what's wrong?"

Enelya shook her head. "I'm fine. It just feels like…someone is watching me."

Francesca blinked at her. "Well...you were just writhing around, scantily clad, in the middle of the forest in front of hundreds of people," she said, a laugh bubbling up from her chest. "I'm sure there's more than one person admiring you from afar."

Enelya rolled her eyes and nudged her friend's shoulder, although a smirk played at the corners of her mouth. "I mean really watching me. Even now I can feel their eyes on me, like…like I'm being stalked by a wolf." Something that had happened to her a handful of times in the depths of winter as she scouted.

Francesca nodded, but her eyes had focused on something past Enelya. "Or…maybe a bear?"

"A bear?" Confusion read plainly in Enelya's voice and on her face.

Francesca gripped Enelya's elbow and turned her to face the opposite direction. When she saw what Francesca was looking at, her breath left her lungs so forcefully she felt as if she had been punched.

The largest elf she had ever seen was slowly but confidently making his way through the crowd. His eyes were entirely focused on her, glancing away only to greet another with a kind smile before finding her again. Fine chestnut-brown locks hung about his face, while a red tattoo wound its way along the right side of his face and down to a broad, naked chest dusted with hair. Enelya's lips parted and her eyes drifted slightly lower, following that hair as it trailed along the plane of his stomach before diving from view beneath a skirt of oak leaves. She dragged her eyes back up his body to his face.

He smirked, and Enelya felt her heart stutter.

" That ," Francesca said softly at her side, "is Master Halsin, Archdruid of the Emerald Grove. And it looks like he's the one hunting you."

Enelya swallowed, her tongue thick all of a sudden. She knew that, given the nature of the Dryad Dance, there was a good chance she would end up laying with someone by the night's end, but had not planned to find someone so quickly, much less someone as storied as Halsin.

Halsin had quite the reputation among the Circle. First and most importantly, he was a great leader and a renowned healer, as well as one of the Emerald Enclave's foremost experts on the Underdark. But his name was whispered among the druids for another reason as well, one much more suited for bedrooms and brothels…and now he was staring at her, looking positively predatory.

She herself was no maiden, having had a good number of casual lovers in her 296 years; but she had only ever been the object of another's true affections twice in her life. The first was with a fellow druid when they were the tender age of 100, to whom she'd vowed to lay with if they were yet virgins at that age. They had been lovers for a little over two years, trying to make it work but ultimately his heart lay elsewhere. The second, and most recent, was a ranger some twenty or thirty years her junior with strong hands and a tongue gifted in the ways of speech, among other things. She had learned much from their short time together, but even so, that had been nearly a decade past. 

This, however…this felt different. As if her body and mind knew something she did not. As if they knew Halsin, reacting to his gaze in a way that made her very skin crawl with anticipation.

Halsin moved closer, and Francesca pulled her towards him. "Come. I'll introduce you!"

As Francesca pulled her through the crowd, Enelya pondered this feeling of familiarity, like Halsin's eyes had met hers before. She knew they had not actually met, which was hardly a surprise given how often she had been afield when such gatherings took place. Halsin had been Archdruid of the Emerald Enclave for nearly a hundred years, she knew, but had little reason to travel to the High Forest. She had no idea why her body and mind were reacting in this way.

Well…maybe she had some idea…but that surely couldn't be…

All thoughts left her head when she found herself standing in front of the man in question, craning her neck ever so slightly in order to meet his eyes. He returned her gaze, smiling down at her with hazel-blue eyes, the left brow of which was marked by a scar that looked frighteningly similar to a swipe from a bear. It sliced through his brow before skipping down across the bridge of his nose, ending at his bottom lip. The healed skin shone softly in the torchlight.

"Master Halsin, how good it is to see you again," Francesca said. Her teasing tone had been replaced by something more polished and disciplined. She laid her hand on Halsin's forearm and turned to Enelya. "Might I introduce Enelya, Druid of Tall Trees, Ranger of the Emerald Enclave, and the newest High Ranger within the Church of Mielikki." Francesca's eyes danced with pride as she listed Enelya's honorifics.

"Is that so?" Halsin's voice rumbled from his chest, soft and low. He extended his arm, but instead of the usual gruff grip of forearms druids usually made, he caught her fingers in his large hand and brought it to his lips, keeping his eyes trained on hers as he pressed a chaste kiss to her knuckles. "Congratulations," he murmured into her skin.

Liquid fire pumped through Enelya's veins, her hand becoming hot in his palm. "Thank you, Master Halsin," she replied. "It is a pleasure to meet you at long last."

He released her hand, his fingers brushing hers as she withdrew. "The pleasure is mine."

She offered him a coy smile. “Oh, I highly doubt that.”

His eyes widened slightly, then crinkled at the corners as his scarred eyebrow quirked in amusement. Silence fell over the trio as Halsin and Enelya continued to stare at each other.

"I will fetch us some mead," Francesca said suddenly. "Master Halsin, would you care for some?" 

"No, thank you, Francesca," Halsin said with a wave of his hand. 

Enelya tried to shoot Francesca a pleading look, but her friend only winked as she walked away. When she had gone, Enelya looked up at Halsin, suddenly feeling unsure of herself. “Um…did you enjoy the dance?" she asked.

Halsin nodded with a hum. "I did. It has been some time since I've been to the Dryad Dance, but the rituals continue to marvel me." He held her gaze as he spoke. " Your dancing was especially scintillating."

" Just my dancing?" Enelya teased. Emboldened by his flirtations, she stepped closer to the druid to lay a hand on his forearm. Her fingers traced the taut muscles. "I felt your eyes on me even after we stopped, Master Halsin," she murmured. Her eyes flitted up to meet his again through her pale lashes.

His eyes darkened, pupils blown wide as he leaned down. His lips brushed along the shell of her ear as he spoke in a low, gravelly voice. "You are captivating. I cannot take my eyes off you…it’s unlike anything I've ever experienced before." His hot breath ghosted along the curve of her neck. "I am eager to continue our discussion in private, if you would have me."

Enelya openly shivered at his forwardness. Her fingers pressed into his arm as lust curled through her body to settle at the apex of her thighs. She turned her head to speak into his own ear; her cheek brushed against his in a pleasant drag of skin. 

"I would like that," she replied softly. "However, the night is still quite young, and many seek your attention, I'm sure."

A quiet groan slipped from his throat. His large hand came up to caress the inside of her arm. The musicians launched into another rousing song. Around them, people began to dance.

“You speak the truth, as much as I wish it were not so. I would much prefer to spend the evening with you." He reluctantly pulled away with a final sigh in her ear. “Very well. Let us part ways for now. But, meet me at the base of the Grandfather Tree at the witching hour, and we will…get better acquainted."

Francesca returned as Halsin departed, nodding her head in a silent goodbye before turning to Enelya, her eyes alight with a salacious glimmer.

“You two looked rather cozy,” she commented as she handed Enelya a goblet of mead. “Care to divulge any of Master Halsin’s intentions?” She playfully bumped Enelya’s hip with her own.

Enelya watched Halsin’s hulking form as he mingled and drew in a shaky breath. “Oh, Francesca…”

Francesca pulled away, a startled look on her face. “Nel, are you alright?”

Enelya rubbed her hands over her face. “Yes…no? I feel like I’m on fire. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before.” She looked at her friend. “It’s as if Halsin is a bard and I am his very first lute, so familiarly he tunes and plucks at my strings…” She blushed at her poetic outburst, the metaphor suddenly sounding sexual.

“Oh, for the Oakfather's sake! Nel!” Francesca grabbed her free hand excitedly. “He is your thiramin . Your souls recognize each other!”

Thiramin . Soulmates. A common enough concept in most cultures, but among elves it was spoken of as if it were a myth. An elf might never meet their thiramin, but that did not mean they could not find love. But Enelya had given up on both those things. It should have surprised her more, the fact that she was suddenly bound to another, a total stranger. But it felt right, even comforting - like the most natural thing in the world. 

So that was it then . Enelya took a swallow of mead. 

"I might need a little more of this."

Midnight finally arrived. Enelya found herself standing breathlessly under the Grandfather Tree, watching the carousing continue around her as she leaned against the ancient oak. She had taken the time between meeting Halsin and now to mingle with others from her circle and dance with Francesca. Many had disappeared into the dark of the treeline in search of privacy; several dryads had been among them. The knots in her stomach twisted tightly, her head pleasantly fuzzy with drink.

A large, hot hand clasped hers, fingers intertwining as it pulled her away from the tree. She allowed herself to be led, Halsin cutting a swift path through the revelry. Enelya bit her lip and kept her eyes glued to the expanse of his shoulders. She smiled when he glanced back at her, and his own mouth twisted up in a smirk that held promises meant only for her. 

Halsin turned to her when they entered the forest proper. He pulled her closer until they stood only a hair's width apart, his head lowering until their lips were nearly brushing. "Where shall we go?" he asked in a low whisper. 

She hummed and trailed her fingers over his chest, glancing up at him playfully. "Follow me, Master Halsin."

His hand tightened around hers.

She led him through the forest, leaves crunching under their feet. Torches lined the paths and shone down from the walkways spanning between the enormous trees. It was one of Enelya's favorite sights, the warm glow giving the City of Trees an even more surreal atmosphere than usual. The music faded to a quiet thrum in the distance as they walked.

They reached a set of stairs that wound around a huge oak. Still holding his hand, she led him up. Her heart beat erratically as they climbed, the anticipation of what awaited flooding her body. Finally, they reached the door to her room. She pushed it open with a quiet creak and stepped into the room. Pale, bright moonlight fell in beams through the open windows. Gauzy white curtains drifted in the cool evening breeze that carried music and laughter into the room. 

The door had barely latched behind them before Halsin's hands were on her, gently pulling at her hips to draw her closer. She laughed and pressed her palms to his bare chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath her hands. He grinned before lowering his lips to her neck, pressing quick kisses along her throat and jaw.

"Mmm…I've heard rumors about you," she sighed, the heady mixture of her arousal and the mead making her bold.

"Oh? And what might those rumors be?" His kisses lingered at her neck as one hand came up to tug at the filmy fabric clasped at her shoulder. His other hand gripped her hip tighter.

"That you are...quite experienced." Enelya gripped his shoulders. "And…selfless…"

"Well." He brought his head up to look down into her eyes. His own were tinged gold around the irises. "I'll be sure to maintain my reputation."

His petal soft lips met hers gently, moving against them to pull breathless sighs from her as his tongue dipped into her mouth. Enelya brought her hands up to snake through his hair, fingers scraping along his scalp and tangling themselves around braided strands. She gasped against his mouth when he rolled his hips, his erection evident as it pressed against her.

He growled and pulled the silver clasp she’d struggled with earlier out of the cloth and stepped back as it puddled at her feet. A quiet sigh escaped him as he took in her naked form, glowing in the light of the moon.

“Gods, look at you.”

As he stepped towards her, Halsin gave a sudden, choking gasp and fell forward onto his hands and knees. The gold ringing his irises flared to a bright copper. In the next instant, fur rippled up his back and neck, and he let out a strangled snarl as he transformed into a hulking brown cave bear before her eyes.

Enelya leapt back, muffling a scream of surprise with her hand. Halsin - the bear - both? - looked up at her with something like embarrassment in its eyes. It huffed and shifted in the small room, and in another flash of light Halsin stood before her in his elven form once again, although less confident now as his shoulders curled inward. Enelya's hand drifted from her mouth as he stammered an apology.

"I - forgive me, the beast inside can be…difficult, when I am - that is, when blood runs hot…ugh…" He looked away, shame blazing in his eyes.

Enelya bit her lip. Part of her wanted to giggle and tell him it was alright…but another part knew that even the lightest laughter might further injure his pride. So she extended her hand and stepped forward to slide it along his jaw, cupping his cheek and drawing his eyes forward to meet hers.

"When I was young - 87, I think? - I was preparing to lay with someone for the very first time." She spoke softly, a smile in her eyes. "When the time came, he hovered above me, about to…well…I got so nervous I turned into a field mouse."

Halsin chuckled and leaned into her hand. His body relaxed. "And what happened then?" he asked.

"Oh, I ran away and avoided him until he left the circle some years later." She caressed his cheek. "You need not be ashamed of your nature when you are with me, Halsin."

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers. "Thank you," he murmured.

His hands and mouth found her again without another word, pulling her to him as he walked her backward until her back pressed against the rough bark of the giant oak that served as a wall of her room. He kissed her lips once, twice, then moved back to her neck, slipping down every few inches until his hot, wet mouth found her breast. 

Enelya whined when his tongue laved across her nipple, flicking at the hardening nub. Halsin drew it into his mouth, rolling and sucking it between his teeth before releasing it with a lewd pop. He showered her other nipple with the same attention before settling onto his knees, his eyes finding hers. 

"I long to taste you." He kissed between her breasts, then her stomach, just above her belly button. "May I?"

" Please ." The breathless plea tumbled from her lips.

Halsin circled his tongue around her navel, then trailed down over her lower abdomen, alternating between licks and kisses. When he reached the top of her mound, he skimmed his hand along the back of her left leg and lifted it, slinging it over his shoulder. Enelya released a stuttering sigh as his head dipped down.

He kissed along her slit, softly nipping at her labia with his lips. She whimpered and arched her back. She felt a smirk against her quim, as well as a rumbling chuckle that shook her.

"So eager." He kissed the join of her thigh. "We have all night, and all day, if you desire. I don't intend to leave you until you are entirely sated, my heart."

Enelya cried out softly when the tip of his tongue found her clit, flicking the tiny nub until she writhed above him. Then, he pulled away to press hot, open mouthed kisses along her other thigh.

"You taste ambrosial. The sweetest honey on my tongue."

She gasped as a wave of arousal surged through her at his words, a hand coming up to clap over her mouth.

Halsin's head reappeared from between her legs, a concerned look on his face. "Is something wrong?"

She shook her head. "No…just the opposite, actually."

A smirk graced his lips, and he lowered his head again. "You liked that, didn't you?"

"Yes," she sighed. Then she cried out in pleasure as he dove between her folds.

His breaths came hard and fast as he rooted into her pussy, his nose rubbing her clit as he sucked and licked wetly at her entrance. One hand pushed her leg up and out, holding her behind her knee. Every few seconds his tongue slid up and around her clit, circling and sucking before dipping back into her pulsing cunt. 

The rough bark of the oak tree bit into Enelya's back as Halsin ravaged her with his mouth. She shuddered and ground down against him, one hand moving to tangle in his hair. He lapped at her incessantly, tasting her, while his right hand gripped the thigh slung over his shoulder. His left hand snaked up and pressed firmly against her belly, holding her hips still against the tree.

She let out a strangled keen of pleasure as her orgasm crashed over her. Halsin continued to lap at her as she arched and ground against him, until she whimpered and released his hair.

He slowly lowered her leg, holding her steady by the hips as he stood. She let him guide her to the bed and lay her back on the mattress, her body gelatinous. He settled on his side next to her.

"I thought you said we should take our time," she muttered.

Halsin chuckled and kissed her, dipping his tongue into her mouth to slide along hers. She could taste herself on his lips, sweet and tangy and altogether pleasant. 

"Once a bear tastes honey, he will not stop until it is devoured." 

Enelya snorted out a laugh before she could help herself. "Are you going to make bear innuendos from here on out?"

Halsin laughed as well. His hand slid up her waist to settle under her breast. "That depends. Do you want me to?"

"I do, actually," she replied. Her eyes lit up in challenge. "I wonder how many you have prepared?"

"I'm afraid you will be sorely disappointed."

"Are we still talking about innuendos?" She grinned up at him. Halsin hummed and leaned over her.

"Believe me, I have many more… innuendos in me than you might think."

His mouth sealed over hers, silencing their banter as his thick fingers trailed over her stomach and through coarse curls to probe at her slick entrance. She moaned and let her legs fall open at his touch.

Halsin pressed a digit into her, then another when he met no resistance. "Is this alright?" he asked lowly.

"Gods, yes."

He lowered his head to suckle at her nipples while his fingers slowly began to pump and curl into her, his stiff cock pressed against her side. She slipped a hand down his softly rounded stomach to undo the skirt around his waist. As it fell open she tossed it away into the room with a clunk , then reached for his large member where it stood proud and beaded with moisture at the tip.

Halsin gave a shuddering groan against her breast as her fingers wrapped around the base and gave it a firm stroke. He began fingering her faster and brought his head up to look down at her. 

"What would you like, Enelya?" A ragged exhale punctuated his question when she swirled the palm of her hand over the weeping head of his cock. She whimpered in response.

"I want you inside me."

He wasted no time, pulling away from her hand and settling between her legs with a quick kiss against her lips. He removed his fingers gently, then gripped his cock and dragged it through her folds. Her breath hitched in her chest and she pulled her knees up to his waist when he finally prodded into her with the swollen tip. He was larger than she expected, but not overly so; she'd have no trouble taking him. 

He entered her slowly, allowing her to stretch around him. Halsin focused on her face, watching for any signs of discomfort; she met his gaze, staring into his lovely hazel eyes, her mouth falling open in a gentle sigh

Once he was fully seated within her, he leaned in to kiss her. Their tongues explored languidly as he began to thrust into her. Enelya hummed happily as a familiar, tingling heat spread through her body from the top of her head down to her toes. 

Halsin moaned. "You feel incredible, my love. Gods…" His head dropped against her shoulder.

Enelya inhaled sharply and gripped at his arms. "D-deeper," she gasped.

He growled and slid his hand up her thigh to grip the back of her left knee. He pushed it up against her shoulder; at the same time he pressed his other palm down on her inner thigh, opening her right leg like the wing of a butterfly. His hips surged forward, his thick cock brushing against that sweet, spongy spot at the front of her walls.

She cried out. The pressure built with every thrust, her body splayed out before Halsin like a prize. His grunts as he fucked her filled her with a raw, primal need, and her fingers scrambled to find her clit, rubbing in tight, hard circles.

She came hard with a shout, her walls clamping down on him. He continued to pound into her, drawing her orgasm out until she collapsed back onto the pillows. Then he chased down his own release, pulling out and coming on her stomach with a huffing, guttural groan. He collapsed next to her, then pulled her body against his and kissed her softly. 

"Thank you," she whispered. "That was…" she trailed off, then kissed him again. 

" That ," he said with a deep chuckle against her lips, "was just the beginning."

They remained in Enelya’s rooms for nearly two days, Halsin leaving only to find them some food; he came back with a satchel full of cheese, bread, fruit, and wine, along with his own belongings. When they were not taking pleasure in each other’s bodies, they share the stories of their lives, whispering to one another as if they were afraid to disturb the peace that had settled over the room. 

She told Halsin about her childhood in the Misty Forest, before she joined the Church of Mielikki and came to the High Forest. In return, he spoke of his misadventures throughout Faerun, including how he had gotten the scar over his left eye. Enelya slowly dragged her fingers along the grooves in his forehead before leaning in to kiss them each one softly. Then he laid her back on the bed once again, their whispers turning into cries of passion.

Finally, on the second day, as Enelya sleepily lay curled against Halsin’s thigh while he sat up in the bed, he cleared his throat.

“My heart.” He brushed her hair from her half-lidded eyes. “Before I go…there is something we should discuss.”

She sat up. The sheet pooled around her hips, leaving her breasts bare as she slipped her hands into his. “What is it?”

Halsin’s thumbs skimmed over her knuckles. His thick brows were furrowed in thought as he stared at their joined hands. “The other night…I felt as though we were connected in a way I’ve only ever heard about. Two souls, linked as one.”

Enelya nodded, looking down at their hands as well. “ Thiramin ,” she said softly. "I felt the same sensations. As if we are two halves of a whole, fitting together seamlessly."

Halsin released one of her hands to bring his to her chin, guiding her to look into eyes full of affection. “I did not expect to find this here, or now. You are…” He paused, then leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers with a sigh. His fingers traced along the curve of her jaw. “You are part of me. Made of the same soul.”

Enelya’s heart swelled as she reached her own hand up to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck. “A bit frightening, isn’t it?” she asked. “And impulsive, jumping straight into bed with each other. Certainly not the usual path, for elves our age.”

Halsin chuckled, pulling her closer to press a soft kiss to her lips. “I could not help it,” he murmured. “You intoxicate me. And when I am intoxicated, I am very rash indeed.”

Enelya gasped when he pushed himself up to tower over her. He licked into her mouth, swallowing her sigh as he guided her down against the mattress. His hand left her cheek to cup her thigh, guiding it up to catch on his hip as he ground his erection against her core. 

“Mmm.” She arched into him. “You are truly no better than a ninety-year-old, and with the stamina to match.”

He hummed, pulling away to gaze down at her lustfully.

“In the past, I often found myself giving in to desire wherever it flourishes. I can see myself being sated for eternity with you at my side.” He gave her a meaningful look.

Enelya froze. “What are you…” Her mind spun, trying to make sense of what he’d just said; it sounded like he'd just asked her to...

“Come to the Emerald Grove with me.” His eyes searched hers for an answer.

Her breath caught in her throat and she moved to sit up. He pulled back and away, allowing her room. His hand lingered on her thigh as she stared at him. 

“I...I can’t.”

His face fell, but she reached out to him before he could speak. Her hands caressed his shoulders. “It is not for lack of wanting,” she added. “But my work is here. My family…”

“Bring them.”

She laughed. “They would not come. But I love -” she stopped.

“You love���?” he asked softly, affection in his eyes.

“...that you would think of them, welcoming them into your grove, to make me happy. In truth…this is all so sudden, Halsin. Normally a thiramin courtship might last months, or decades, and here we are, rushing into it as if we are running out of time.”

“Enelya." Halsin took a hand from his shoulder and gripped her fingers delicately. "I want this. I want you . I have never been one for convention, nor for following the rules of society. Why must we delay our happiness when we can seize it?” 

She opened her mouth to reply, then closed it, her brows furrowing. Why, indeed? She could continue her work scouting the lands of Faerun and spreading the word of Mielikki, helping those in need; she could do so in any corner of Thoril. In truth, she had never considered leaving the High Forest…but now, with Halsin gazing at her so expectantly, so hopefully, she felt a giddiness rise in her chest and spread a grin across her face. 

"Yes."

A grin to match hers lit up Halsin's face. He leaned in to kiss her, but she leaned away, bringing her hand down to press against his chest. 

"Wait. A few conditions, first."

He settled back and nodded solemnly, his eyes crinkled with a smile. "Of course."

"First, I need a few weeks to make arrangements here. I have to see my parents, and let them know." 

Halsin's face softened. "Take all the time you need…in fact, I could come with you, if you would like."

Enelya smiled and gave his hand a squeeze. "I know you're eager to meet them…but that will come, in time. You're needed at your grove."

"As wise as you are beautiful, my heart." He kissed the back of her hand. "Very well…is there something else?"

She nodded. "I would also like for us to have our own space. I know you share rooms with the others in your grove, but I'm not accustomed to that. Besides, we will need a place to call our own, if…" She licked her lips nervously. "Someday...we are to have children."

Halsin's eyes darkened suddenly, and his lips parted. "Is that what you desire? To have a family?" 

Enelya bit her lip and thought for a long moment. "I never gave it much thought," she admitted. "I suppose I did want a family, once. And when it never happened, I chose to let nature run its course, whatever that may be. So…if it's what you want…"

She found herself on her back once more, Halsin poised over her, eyes blazing with want. "If I had my way I would plant my seed in your womb right now," he growled. 

Her eyes widened. His words - and the way he spoke them - sent a jolt of arousal straight to her loins. Her toes curled into the sheets beneath them. 

"Well…you may as well try." Her voice was barely a whisper, her eyes glinting in a way that he was learning tested his resolve. 

His lips crashed to hers, nipping at the swollen skin with a fervor that made Enelya dizzy. 

"We shall have our own space," he murmured as he pressed kisses to her throat. "I will make it so, as soon as I return to my grove. Whatever you desire, my heart, you need only ask."

She sighed and ran her fingers through Halsin's hair. "Then take me one last time, Halsin. The next time we meet will be when I come to you."

The weeks passed, then turned into months; no birds arrived with news. When Halsin finally reached out to Francesca, worried about his thiramin, all she wrote was that Enelya had been called deep into the forest. She did not know when she would return.

After six months Halsin stopped writing. He stopped preparing their home at the bottom of the hollow. He stopped believing she would ever come to him. He stopped holding on to her, and tried to move on with his life. But even as he threw himself anew into researching the Shadow Curse; as he lay with another; as he was captured by the Absolutist cult that took hold in his forest, he knew she was out there somewhere. 

And when he was out of hope…

She came.

[weariedwight]

Faegalad, Wight of Eregion

((bio under the cut!))

Name(s): Amdiriel (daughter of hope; father-name); Faegalad (spirit of radiance; mother-name)

Epessë/Nickname(s): Narupîneth (little red); Fae; Maethorwen (warrior maiden); Maethorwen, Commander of a Broken Army; Wight of Eregion

Title(s): Lady; Ring-bearer; Commander

Gender: cis female (she/her)

Date of Birth: Second Age 1582, March 20th

Age: 4,880 years old (as of TA 3021)

Race: Elven (half Noldorin, half Silvan)

Height: 6'0"

Face Claim: Florence Welch

Voice Claim: Florence Welch

Hair: deep red with a lock of gray; classic length

Eyes: gray-blue; blind right eye

Language(s): Sindarin (primary proficiency); Westron (primary proficiency); Exilic Quenya (professional working proficiency); Khuzdul (professional working proficiency)

Anything spoken in Sindarin will be displayed "{like so}", in Exilic Quenya "[like so]", and Khuzdul "< like so >".

Realm(s): Ost-in-Edhil, Eregion (formally); Ost-in-Rínas, Eregion

Orientation: demiromantic; demisexual

Horse: Sador (during and after the events of lotr)

Skill(s): sword fighting; archery; horseback riding; hunting; fishing; foraging; tracking; diplomacy; singing; dancing; basic healing (through use of magic and herbs); natural navigation; combat; falconry

Family:

immediate: Brenior (father); Ellother (mother)

maternal: Barhador (grandfather); Eweneth (grandmother)

paternal: Mahtan (grandfather); Nerdanel (aunt); Fëanor (uncle); Maedhros (cousin); Maglor (cousin); Celegorm (cousin); Caranthir (cousin); Curufin (cousin); Amras (cousin); Amrod (cousin); Celebrimbor (first cousin once removed)

Identifiable Marking(s): heavy freckling across her face, back, chest, and shoulders; long scar across her right eye; heavy scarring across her back and shoulders; scattered scars across her body (scar chart)

Associated Item(s): Hathellas (leaf blade; the Star of Fëanor is represented on the pommel; longsword); Echmith (thorn of gray; dirk); long silver chain necklace wrapped thrice around her neck; hooded black cloak with a white dogwood flower brooch; golden circlet adorned with leaves and a small emerald

Notable Habit(s): intense staring when focused; often scanning her surroundings; head tilting

Affliction(s): C-PTSD; depression; survivor’s guilt

Personality Traits:

positive: lionhearted; clever; resilient; kind-hearted

neutral: proud; stubborn; guarded; dignified; observant

negative: blunt; self-sacrificial; relentless; distrustful

Bonus: pinterest; spotify

Background:

cw/tw for: war, death, murder, wartime imprisonment, torture

details can be found here

please note that events listed are only relevant to Faegalad in some way

[paganfantasy]

Lord of The Rings Hobbit Cloak & Broach

https://amzn.to/4jmuQPg

This lord of the rings cloak is made of luxurious velvet material in a rich forest green color, soft, sturdy and warm, perfect for the LOTR look. Elven Leaf Clasp - The lotr leaf brooch ensures the hooded cloak stays securely in place, adds an authentic touch to your LOTR inspired outfit.

[jeynepoolelovebot]

[ID: It's a drawing of Legolas riding a horse at Helm's Deep with soldiers of Rohan riding in the background as well. He is drawn with brown skin, long brown hair which is loose, and dangling jade earrings. In one hand, he holds a sword covered in orc blood while in the other, he holds the reins of his horse. He wears thick green and brown clothes with embroidery on the sleeves and a belt made of multiple parts with intricate engravings, above a white sash. Over this, he wears a shoulder pad strapped across his chest, a piece of armor around his tricep, and a dirtied elven cloak clasped by a leaf brooch. A bruise is visible on his forehead and a thin, bleeding cut marks his cheek-the soldiers behind him are similarly dirtied and bloodied. End ID]

(ID taken from alt text.)

helm's deep

[id in alt]

[thespeakingsquid]

Drewly: A brooch from the forests of Lorien.

Leaf Brooch: These brooches held closed elven cloaks interwoven with magic to shield the wearer from unfriendly eyes. While the brooches themselves were not inherently powerful, they were treasured possessions to each who received one as a gift from the Lady of the Forest.

That was Drewly. We did it. A whole month dedicated to work we already completed. I took this month as a victory lap to be amazed at myself for the scale of work that I can get done. Not all of the art is amazing, but it is amazing to get any work done at all, let alone 31 pieces of art that have just been sitting waiting to see the light of day.

I am going to take a break and be back next Sunday with more items from Four Swords Adventures. 

If you enjoy my work, please consider donating:

Make a one-time donation with Ko-Fi:  https://ko-fi.com/theeasyspeaker

Become a sustaining supporter on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ItemCardswithTheSpeakingSquid 

Thank you for your support.

Be excellent to everyone.

-Ceph

[playtimegarden]

𓆩 Viorel 𓆪

𓆩❀ Profile ❀𓆪

Pronouns: he/him

Flower: Violet, a small purple flower once associated with blood for the resemblance in color to bruises. 

Quote: Treat me however you wish.

Color scheme: purple, brown, and green

Style type/inspiration: fantasy elven with traditional Romanian influence

Physical description ❀𓆪

Body: warm golden beige TPE, average height and weight, metal skeletal structure

Hair: dark brown, to lower back in length, braid tied with a violet ribbon

Face: triangular shape, pronounced cheekbones, round nose, pointed ears

Eyes: thin shape, gray purple irises, dull, long lashes

Lips: full lips, nude color, downturned in soft frown

Sexual characteristics: Outer: realistic human male genitalia and anus, Inner: soft, straight channel

Notable features: Purple bruises paint Viorel��s skin in several places, including most obviously around his left eye, the left corner of his mouth, his neck, and wrists.

Clothing ❀𓆪

Outer clothes: 

Top layer: dark green vest lined with soft brown fur and decorated with geometric violet designs along the edges

Middle layer: white woven tunic with elbow length sleeves with geometric designs of violets and leaves woven around the ends and along the steep, laced up neckline, woven violet sash around the waist with leaf designs

Bottom layer: dark brown trousers with geometric violets embroidered down the sides

Under clothes: ruffled pale purple underwear made of silk

Accessories:

Head: dark brown circular furred hat with the center indented in a fold, a gold wire and gemstone brooch pinned in the hat

Feet: mid-calf dark leather boots with green laces and violet designs along the sides

Jewelry: golden cock ring with a dangling chain that has several green and purple gemstones, gold and purple earrings

𓆩❀ Long Form Description ❀𓆪

Physical description: Viorel is a life-sized doll made of thermoplastic elastomer (TPE) which gives him a hyper-realistic look. His flesh is a warm golden beige skin tone and he is of a fairly average height and weight for an adult in their thirties. His metal skeletal structure allows for semi-realistic posing. He has a full head of dark brown hair that is braided tightly down to his lower back where it’s tied off with a violet ribbon. Except for his long pointed ears and his lack of breathing, he likely could pass for a living human. 

His face is triangular in shape, with a pointed chin, round nose, and prominent cheekbones. His eyes are thin with gray purple irises and dull, seemingly made of a matte material that wasn’t given a shiny coating, perhaps indicating they are replacements for his original eyes. The left one is surrounded by a deep purple bruise. Another bruise mottles the left corner of his thin, downturned lips which have no other color to speak of. His expression is soft and sad. 

More bruises circle his neck like a choker and each wrist bears a bracelet of abuse. Along his left ribs and hip are more splotched blooms resembling blood under his skin. 

Sexual characteristics: Viorel possess a cock, balls, and anus all of realistic size, shape, and texture. His cock is average sized and his balls are on the small size. His anus is flexible can be stretched carefully to reach the soft channel inside him. It is long and straight, unrealistically for a human.

Current outer clothes: Viorel wears a woven tunic of white cotton which has woven patterns along the edges of the elbow length sleeves, framed around the lacing at the neck, and along the hem, which reaches mid-thigh. The patterns are of five-petaled violets and wide green leaves and are geometric in style. Under the tunic is a pair of deep brown pants that lace in the front and are embroidered down the sides in more intricate designs of violets.

Above the tunic, he wears a thick woven sash around his waist with short tails. It’s violet in color and decorated with borders of wide green leaves. Further on top of the tunic is a dark green vest with violets woven around the ends, up along the open front, and around the neck. It’s lined with a soft, thin fur of a deep brown color. 

Current under clothes: Under his clothes, Viorel wears only a pair of short, ruffled shorts made of lavender silk that is decorated with one violet bow on each hip.

Current accessories: To accompany his outfit, he wears a conical hat of dark brown fur. The top has been pushed inward, creating a folded look and a golden wire brooch decorates the right side. The brooch creates a small stem-like framework for gemstones to be set in, ten purple ones forming a pair of violets side by side while several green ones create the wide leaves to match.

He also wears a pair of brown leather boots that reach to mid-calf. The inner sides of the boots have green laces while the outer sides have sewn patterns of violets, the designs being independent of one another and appearing random. 

For jewelry, Viorel wears a golden ring around the base of his cock which is engraved in a leaf pattern and bears a small, thin chain that hangs down along his cock. The chain contains two purple gemstones and three green whose settings hang from separate loops added to the chain. He also wears a pair of gold earrings on his lobes that are set with violet gemstones. 

𓆩❀︶꒦꒷Have a happy playtime!꒷꒦︶❀𓆪

[faedragonmyths]

My first clay and resin project, Tatiana could use it for cosplay anyway 😉

[counsellorerestor]

Elrond's pavilion is suspiciously quiet as Erestor re-enters, in the way a group of people get when the object of their gossip appears. He fixes them all with a stony look as he walks past them to his seat. Elrond passes him his refilled goblet, and they watch as the tournament resumes.

As luck would have it, Glorfindel is up first again. This time, with his suspicions of the other's feelings and the knowledge that they will at least get to the truth of the matter later, Erestor is able to bear the scrutiny accompanying each rose with a little more equanimity; he thanks each defeated combatant who brings him a rose and adds it to his bouquet.

In the final round Glorfindel faces Galadir, the reigning champion from the previous year. Galadir is no green warrior; a veteran from Doriath, his strength and skill are evident in his movements. He is often slow to begin, preferring to watch and wait for his opponent to overextend and leave an opening before he strikes. It is small wonder that he is often champion of the Imladris tournaments.

Glorfindel, however, almost never enters tournaments for good reason. He was by no means unskilled before, but having returned to his second life with the Valar's blessing, his speed, strength and stamina, not to mention his unerring instincts, are spoken of reverently across Elven realms.

They circle each other patiently, like wolves on the prowl, all coiled strength and hidden steel.

Erestor leans towards Elrond and murmurs, "Given the stakes, might I recommend a token for our runner-up as well? I can send a runner for something appropriate."

Elrond nods. "I was just considering that as well; you read my mind." He beckons a nearby guard over, and Erestor gives him quiet instructions; he nods and runs off just as swords finally clash on the field.

It is perhaps the longest bout Glorfindel has yet fought this day, and even those who know little of combat can admire the skill of both fighters. They strike and parry smoothly, dodging and weaving around each other, pausing to recalculate and then feinting and striking again.

Eventually, after being hit on one arm and having to switch to his non-dominant one, Glorfindel manages to twist out of the way and land a strike to Galadir's shoulder. The tense silence breaks as onlookers erupt in cheers and applause, and Erestor's composure cracks into a small smile, even as doubt once again curls through him; what claim can he have over the champion of the Valar?

Both Elves approach the pavilion, panting slightly and flushed with effort but grinning. Elrond rises and waits for silence.

"A most entertaining bout! Very well-fought indeed; you had us both on the edge of our seats." He picks up the token Erestor had sent the guard to get from one of the local jewellers; a ring, elegantly wrought to look like a tiny just-fallen oak leaf wrapping around one's finger.

"Galadir, come forward. You may have lost the championship by a hair, but your skill as a warrior is, I deem, well worthy of recognition by this token."

Galadir accepts it graciously, and murmurs his thanks with a bow.

"And I think our champion of the Rose Tournament was self-evident early on," Elrond continues, laughter in his voice. "Glorfindel, I see that my Imladrim are led by one with unmatched skill - though your second-in-command comes close. Watching you on the field has been a pleasure. I bestow upon you this token, with my congratulations."

As he leans closer to pin the delicate rose-shaped brooch to Glorfindel's cloak, he mutters under his breath, "Good luck."

Erestor casts Elrond a suspicious look as he declares the tournament over and encourages the audience to take part in games and visit the artisans before the feast. Still, the Counsellor gathers up his file and his bundle of tea, and approaches Glorfindel with measured steps.

"You have rather ruined my plans; I did not expect such an armful of roses. Would you mind carrying them for me, please? I need to drop them off in my room and borrow a vase." He nods towards the armful of roses on his chair.

A small part of him cannot help but think that, since this rose-related embarrassment is Glorfindel's doing, Glorfindel ought to be the one carrying it through the house.

Spring Festival II: Part 3

@counsellorerestor

(Continued from Part 1, Part 2)

“What?”

Though at first taken aback, his instincts rising to defend, Glorfindel is quickly reminded that this is Erestor before him. He sees the other’s distress, and he thinks he knows Erestor enough to at least recognise when the other is trying to keep his calm, when he clings to pride and reason when pulled to unsure and uneven ground. Suddenly, Glorfindel is sorry to have made Erestor feel this way, especially when he wants nothing more than to be someone to whom the other could run to for comfort from these very things.

“Erestor,” he tries again, more gently this time, “of course not. I wish I had given you confidence enough in me to be assured that I would never wrong you or hurt you in such a way.” He glances at the flowers, still clutched against Erestor's chest. “I am… sorry, if the flowers caused offense. Of course they were not out of any obligation either, nor was I upset at their giving. Why would I be? Instead, you can say I was…” Glorfindel falters, hesitating for a moment before he can be honest. “I was nervous—afraid—that you would not receive them kindly. Or that they would be unwelcome, or that they would make you feel uncomfortable.” He winces at this last one, and has the grace to look abashed. “Although I suppose I should have known the latter would be a given. Especially up close, they are not an insignificant amount of flowers, and I know you do not like pulling attention unnecessarily.”

[murraywalker]

There's not enough Lord of the Rings merch for my liking..

[ebaeschnbliah]

Not idly do the leaves of Lórien fall .....

They went in single file, running like hounds on a strong scent, and an eager light was in their eyes. Nearly due west the broad swath of the marching Orcs tramped its ugly slot; the sweet grass of Rohan had been bruised and blackened as they passed. Presently Aragorn gave a cry and turned aside. 

'Stay!' he shouted. 'Do not follow me yet!' He ran quickly to the right, away from the main trail; for he had seen footprints that went that way, branching off from the others, the marks of small unshod feet. These, however, did not go far before they were crossed by orc-prints, also coming out from the main trail behind and in front, and then they curved sharply back again and were lost in the trampling. At the furthest point Aragorn stooped and picked up something from the grass; then he ran back.

'Yes,' he said, 'they are quite plain: a hobbit's footprints. Pippin's I think. He is smaller than the other. And look at this! He held up a thing that glittered in the sunlight. It looked like the new-opened leaf of a beech-tree, fair and strange in that treeless plain.

'The brooch of an elven-cloak!' cried Legolas and Gimli together.

'Not idly do the leaves of Lórien fall,' said Aragorn. 'This did not drop by chance: it was cast away as a token to any that might follow. I think Pippin ran away from the trail for that purpose.'

'Then he at least was alive,' said Gimli. 'And he had the use of his wits, and of his legs too. That is heartening. We do not pursue in vain.'

'Let us hope that he did not pay too dearly for his boldness,' said Legolas. 'Come! Let us go on! The thought of those merry young folk driven like cattle burns my heart.'

The sun climbed to the noon and then rode slowly down the sky. Light clouds came up out of the sea in the distant South and were blown away upon the breeze. The sun sank. Shadows rose behind and reached out long arms from the East. Still the hunters held on.

JRR Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, The Two Towers,  The Riders of Rohan

[chezcocoflower]

Fairies Brooches collection - limited edition - handmade wood and hand embroidery 

[suvetar-amethyst-dream]

Magic of the dark elves.  Two brooches with hematite gemstone, and leaf shaped earrings. All still available in my Etsy store. Instagram Facebook

[middleearthtolkienfantasyart]

Elven brooches were given to all nine members of the Fellowship of the Ring and were used to fasten the hooded cloaks made for them by Galadriel. Each brooch was fashioned like a green leaf veined with silver.

the Fellowship prepared to depart Lórien on 16 February T.A. 3019,the Galadhrim brought them cloaks with hoods that matched the size of each traveller. To keep them attached around each wearer a brooch was provided.

On 26 February,as the Uruk-hai were driving Merry and Pippin across the Wold, Pippin swerved to the right and ran from the Orcs. He was quickly caught but he managed to drop his Elven brooch on the ground in the faint hope that it might be found.

Pippin's faint hope was answered on 27 February when Aragorn discovered the hobbit's brooch. "Not idly do the leaves of Lórien fall," proclaimed Aragorn. The Three Hunters were encouraged by this find although they hoped that Pippin did not pay too dearly for his boldness.

On 7 March, in Henneth Annûn, Frodo displayed his Elven brooch to Faramir. Faramir agreed that it was of the same craftsmanship as the golden belt that his brother wore in his funeral boat, further confirming Frodo's story and knowledge of Boromir.

The Mouth of Sauron displayed Frodo's Elven cloak and brooch to the parley group at the Morannon on 25 March.At the end of the parley Gandalf seized the tokens.