arandinnu-blog

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Lord of the Rings + Water

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   Thranduil turned his attention to Arelia with a calm expression painted over his ever stoic features. He hadn’t been able to tell that she was blind until that moment-- not that he had stopped to really size her up over the flowers. He hoped briefly that she didn’t fault him for making a comment on the sight and that it would be simply let go. It would probably be more comfortable if neither of them commented.

    Facing the flowers once more, he reached out to brush nimble fingers over the stem of a rather vibrant orchid.

    “There isn’t usually a market here,” Thranduil explained quietly. “There is a celebration to happen this evening. The merchants have come from different lands to sell and barter for wares and goods. There will be a feast and a festival when the stars come out to light the sky. A remembrance.”

Arelia jumped and turned toward his voice.

“Ah, yes, I like the way they smell. Most people think it’s too subtle or that they have no smell, but I really like it.”

Her hand reached out slowly until she felt the petals. She counted four flowers on this plant, and she could only hazard a guess at their color. Any color would be beautiful to her, but she enjoyed guessing because there were so many to choose from.

“Does this market not normally have them?”

If she was honest with herself, she wasn’t even aware she’d wandered into a market. It seemed everywhere she went, there were crowds of people. Unless she just had a talent for finding marketplaces, in which case that wouldn’t be so bad.

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thranduilicn:

THAT IS NOT PART OF YOUR UNIFORM U R FIRED

There are two kinds of elves… [x]

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     Thranduil liked to take his time with games. They were meant to be fun, and if he found the little Hobbit straight away, that wouldn’t be fun for either of them. So he counted quietly to 100, then to 120 for good measure. When he opened his eyes, he did not just scan the undergrowth for one tiny Hobbit, he took a look toward the tree tops as well. He kept a count of the trees that would support him, as well as ones that looked as if they were healthy enough that he would not cause leaves to fall with his disturbance. That would be his hiding spot when it came to his turn.

     Next, he set his sights on looking for the Hobbit that was hiding from him. Which proved to be a much more difficult task than imagined. Those large feet left not a trace upon the dust, not a crink in the blades of grass. It was no wonder they were so silent. They walked as if they hovered upon air. This would not be like playing with an elfling. But perhaps one of his tactics for finding his son would work on Bilbo too.

     “Oh dear me,” he feigned exasperation, a hand over his chest as his eyes closed thoughtfully. “Where in the world could that little one have gone? I wonder! It seems as if he is more clever than I, even in all of my years!”

“Uh huh, very important!” Bilbo agreed, now looking up at the king now he was on his feet. He bobbed excitedly up and down on his feet, curls bouncing with excitement, more than ready for their thrilling game.

“Okay!” Bilbo dashed off as quickly as he could; he was brilliant at playing hide and seek and his cousins usually never found him. He headed off just into the outskirts of the clearing, finding a particularly thick looking bush, before diving straight into it.

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"Bring one of those hobbits back for dinner, will you?"

     Thranduil had to pause, thinking carefully on his Adar’s phrasing. Whether he were to tease him about hobbits not making very good snacks, though bite sized, or simply comply and invite them to dinner as guests.

     “Hobbits are friends, not food, Adar.” He chose wisely.

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     Since the war of the ring, things had been relatively quiet. The world was trying to mend itself after the marring and scorching of tainted fires. Thranduil himself had been quite busy with the nature of his forest and the sailing westward of his kin. It was only a matter of time before the light of the elves had faded from this earth. He wanted to pay a visit to the friends he had made before there was no tale left to tell of them. 

     It wasn’t his friend who caught his attention, nor anyone familiar. It seemed strange to him to be greeted by one of the halflings when most had shied away from his presence and strangeness. With a queer look, the Elvenking sized up the Hobbit in front of him, curious of him and his bravery. 

     “I was on my way to visit a friend,” the Elvenking answered, a carefully neutral expression upon his face. “It’s been a very long time since he and I have seen each other, and I would like to meet with him again before too much more has come to pass. Can you tell me where Mr. Baggins is?”

Sam was walking home from the market, a sack of potatoes slung over his shoulder and a cheery tune stuck in his head.  He hummed a few notes as he walked along, enjoying the breeze through his hair.  It had been 6 months since Frodo had left for the undying lands and Sam was just starting to come to life again.  Truthfully, he missed his friend dearly, but the world was calling to him, and he could not stay cooped up in Bag End forever.

“Home is behind, the world ahead”

he sang softly, smiling a little at the words.

A figure, tall and cloaked appeared ahead, that seemed to be making its way toward Bag End.  Sam picked up his pace slightly and peered around, trying to spy the face of his unexpected visitor, who looked vaguely like another he had known.  As he approached the other, he saw that it was indeed an elf, and called out.  “Beggin’ your pardon, Mister, but where are you headed to?”

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     Thranduil allowed himself to be picked up, sniffling into his Ada’s shoulder until he was secured. He sat himself up straight, his sniffles turning into a wide grin as he reached up and poked his Ada’s nose. His eyes shone with pride in his own deceit. 

     “I win!” He chirped, then hugged himself around Oropher’s neck. He hoped that he’d not worried his Ada too terribly. His little fingers twisted in his Ada’s soft hair, trying to ensure that he wouldn’t be put down again. If his Ada was tall, then he was tall by extension when Oropher carried him. He even wrapped his legs around his Ada, clinging like a little barnacle. 

     “We can be tall together!”

A roar of laughter escaped him as he ducked down to avoid ramming his head upon certain stall levels. Gracefully he turned to face the running elfling, his movement back tracking each time but with less speed now.

     “It is because I am tall, Thranduil!” He stuck out his tongue before he turned again and dashed away.

The next time he turned his head back, gasps were heard as Thranduil rolled onto the floor. “No..!” Oropher cried out before sped towards his son and fell onto his knees, trying to pick up Thranduil.

     “Ion nin! Are you alright?!”

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     “No,” he answered with an amused simper upon his lips. Thranduil knew rude, and this girl was far from it. She seemed earnest-- strange but endearing. Thranduil stopped one of the guards returning through the halls, talking quietly with him for a moment in hushed Sindarin. The other elf gave a curt nod, and then set off in the opposite direction that they were headed.

     “The bathing chambers are on the lower levels, I will escort you there, and Galion will take you to your chambers from there. He will bring you fresh garments.” 

     Thranduil made his way down stone stairs, the halls shimmering in the torchlight as they descended. The lower they went, the louder the sounds of water were. Not deafening, but enough to echo the main entranceway. Music could be heard from down one of the winding halls, rather rustic-- it explained to the King why the halls seemed so barren. His people must be having a merry time in the wine cellars. The new shipment must be in.

     “Perhaps a glass of Dorwinion with dinner-- are you fond of wine?”

Rose jumped immediately as she felt his hand upon her back. It was unexpected to say the very least, and yet she understood why he’d done so as they continued to walk onwards. Swallowing thickly, she shifted her shoulders around a bit. “Sorry,” she muttered softly. 

A small smile danced across her lips at his compliment. “You’re very sweet, but I’m a lot more worn out than I look,” She brought her fingers up towards her mouth, intertwining them as her eyes looked anywhere besides him for a bit. “Would it be rude of me to accept all of those things? I don’t suppose you have a hot shower—bath around here? I think I’d enjoy that more than anything.” When had hot water become such a luxury?

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imjoakin

     This creature made a strange visage standing amongst the trees. So out of place, and so peaceful was he through the miasma of Mirkwood that it made Thranduil stop and stare. His hands drawn behind his back, he felt no need to draw a weapon, though he stood at the ready, just in case. 

     “You should not be here.”

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A flower crown for adar~

Send me “flower crown” and my Muse will react to yours plopping one on their head

     He’d been thinking rather deeply about the events of the past few weeks. The silence and relative peace had left him in a state of unease. Despite the increased patrols and closely watched borders, Thranduil felt a heavy presence upon the forest. Like a breath of foul wind that made the trees shiver. Through his concentration, he was jerked back into reality when he felt the fitting of an object upon his head.

     Thranduil cast his glance upward, his lips twitching with soft amusement. The ill feeling upon his heart faltered when he looked at his Son. Leaning his chin onto his fist, Thranduil crossed one leg easily over the other, his opposite hand drumming on the oak staff. 

     “And how do I look, Ion nín?”

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Yikes!

[ This blog is not abandoned, I promise you. I had an unfortunate run in with being under the weather, and my anxiety/depression spiked really bad. I’m better than I was though, and I will be getting to drafts tonight/tomorrow. ♥ 

Does anyone want memes/stuff in their askbox? I can do that.~]

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flower crown

Send me “flower crown” and my Muse will react to yours plopping one on their head

     Eyes closed, Thranduil had been enjoying the sounds of the Shire. His fingers clasped lightly over his lap, he felt no need to be tense. This trip had proven just what he’d needed, even if their destination was a few days south, ultimately. The Shire Folk had seemed cautious at first, but the more they left him alone, the more Thranduil felt at ease. 

     There seemed to be one exception of course. And it came in the form of very tiny hands, and rather tiny furry feet climbing him to sit upon his chest and plop something upon his head. By the smell, he hazarded a guess of daisies, dandelions, and perhaps marigold. 

     “Master Bilbo,” Thranduil smiled, opening one eye to stare up at the child on his chest. “I’d wondered if you would pay me a visit this afternoon. And what have we here?”

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     “Yes,” Thranduil replied, another gracious smile upon his lips. “I am a King, and I’ve never met a Baggins or a Took before you. So it’s quite an important meeting, wouldn’t you say so, Bilbo?” He set the little hobbit gently on his feet, then raised himself to a knee. His gaze scanned the surrounding area, finding it would be incredibly difficult for him to find anywhere to hide, being quite a tall elf. 

     “Hide and seek sounds like fun. Why don’t you hide while I count?” That way while I search for you, I might find a better hiding spot for myself, he thought to himself. 

“Elvenking,” Bilbo murmured, “You’re a king? I’ve never met a king before!” he grinned, “I’m a Baggins! But Mama’s a Took, so I’m a Took too!” At his name, he said, “Thran… Thranduil,” he repeated slowly, unused to such long and grand names. He blinked, unable to understand the Elvish, but he liked how it sounded and it must have something to do with his star, so it must have been something nice.

“A game? Yes!” he shouted in his excitement, grinning, “Yes! Hide ‘n’ seek! Hide ‘n’ seek!”

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"You're not a monster,"

Tell my muse “You’re not a monster” and see how they react.

     “Sometimes in the pursuit of monsters, we ourselves succumb to the same darkness. I will do what it takes to protect the lives of our kin while the walls of my Kingdom must be defended. If I am lost–” Thranduil paused and met his gaze evenly with the young warrior’s. There were times that the startling resemblance took him off guard. Much like a certain elf in Rivendell, Thranduil often suspected that Tilarphen held the fëa of another. His rant cut short, the Elvenking let his mouth click shut. 

     “Kings fall, and kingdoms live on. If I should fall, it would be but a small matter in the grand scheme. If I were a monster, would you still follow me? I think not.”

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stings-wielder

Bilbo nodded, watching the king with some caution, wringing his hands together. He knew that it wasn’t a particularly grand gift; in fact, it was rather a strange gift to give to a king. But Bilbo’s reasoning had been that, firstly, he didn’t have any kingly gifts to give, and secondly, the king already probably had mounds of what constituted as ‘kingly gifts’. What would it matter to him if he received any more? A toy, especially a deer, might suit him better. At first, Bilbo had thought that he had made a mistake in giving him the present and he felt heat crawl up his neck, before he saw Thranduil’s face break into a smile, a smile that he hadn’t seen before. He was unused to seeing him so joyous; it made for a pleasant change. “You do?” the halfling asked, his eyes widened, a smile of his own appearing on his face. At the rest of his words, he smile grew fully into a grin and he clasped his hands together in delight, “I am so glad that you will! I hoped that you would like him!”

     Pleased, once more Thranduil stood straight and clasped his hands behind his back, the small stuffed deer still in them. Bilbo had always shown exquisite judgement-- or unusual judgement-- that was a debate that Thranduil was willing to set aside. His  dear friend had probably travelled a long way to deliver him such a gift, and he thought that the hobbit would no doubt be tired and hungry. 

     “I do, and I will keep him in my chambers upon my pillows,” he answered, having no shame in admitting he would rest with the stuffed animal in his grasp. It was perhaps a little bit unkingly, and more of a child’s wish, but Thranduil had drifted into dreaming while Legolas had left his toys behind. Surely there would be no harm in keeping one of his own. 

     “Will you join me for the evening meal? It would honor me to have you sit at my side.”

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Misty forest…..by Kristjan Rems