#asaw23

[arofili]

@arospecfanworksweek day two | loveless aros | findis

She was born a princess, born someone else’s pawn. Overlooked by her brother the heir; named for parents and not her own soul; forgotten in the shadows by all—save her mother, a princess herself. She was born to marry a prince, to strength alliances, to be her mother come again.

Love will find you, if you let it, says her mother. But she sees “love” as it drains her mother’s spirit, and she will have no part in it.

She rejects her royalty. She rejects her broken heart. She will burn it all down if she must, to find herself, to be Findis and no one else.

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[lovequeerindigo]

happy aro week besties <3

[arofili]

@arospecfanworksweek day seven | free day | soft romo ilmarë x arien

My starlight // My sunshine My midnight // My dawn Dear maiden, I love thee In time with the Song My teardrop // My sunbeam My glimmer // My gleam Dear maiden, I love thee As hearts love a dream

As stars rise // As dawn breaks As light fills the sky I long to be with thee When twilight is nigh As hands touch // As hearts blush As choruses sound I think of thee fondly The love I have found

O nightfall // O daybreak O sweetheart of mine Thine orbit eludes me And yet I am fine O darkness // O brightness O light and its lack I need not to love thee If thou lov’st me back

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[arofili]

@arospecfanworksweek day six | aegoromantic | finduilas faelivrin

I loved you in the morning, when you named me for the Sun. I loved you in the afternoon, when you asked me for my hand. I loved you in the evening, when you walked out of the shadow.

But in the dead of night I loved you not. Did my heart turn to another, against my will? Did my thoughts stray to the Doom of mortal flesh?

I know not. I love the thought of you, the thought of him: and yet never did we marry, in the golden years before the Flames. Never do I wish to whisper to him the secrets of my heart. I love our love: and yet I love you not, not in the way you wish I could.

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[arofili]

@arospecfanworksweek day one | non-sam aros | círdan

The sea has always called to him, but unlike his brethren it is the waves themselves that bring him peace, not the promise of a paradise beyond. The waves are indifferent; they are constant; they are ever-changing. They are only themselves. And upon these shores, Círdan can be nothing but himself, and feel complete.

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[arofili]

@arospecfanworksweek day five | lithromantic | finrod felagund

He is so full of love it flows out of him like light from a lantern. He laughs, smiles, seizes onto joy and affection and shares it like precious jewels. He sighs and sings and soliloquizes over those he adores, and never does he wed.

He tells his sister he has a Doom before him. He tells history he left his love behind. He tells his dear, mortal friends he cannot love as they: but the truth is, Finrod Felagund loves to be in love, but not to know his love returned.

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[arofili]

@arospecfanworksweek day three | aroflux | vána

Blossoms open; close. Spring ripens into summer gentles into fall settles into winter blooms into spring again. She is youth, beauty, hope personified: she is Vána, she is Spring. Her heart opens; closes. She lets Oromë her husband frolick in the forests; she lets herself dance among the flowers, ever-shifting, ever-young. She waxes and wanes, and yet always stays: she is Vána. She is Spring.

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[arofili]

@arospecfanworksweek day four | frayromantic | curufin

If his father is fire, he is an ember. If his will is a sword, his heart is a shield. If his mind is sharp, his heart is its whetstone.

He loves: fleeting, passionate. He loses: it falls away, no matter how he tries. The closer he gets, the further he reaches, all the swifter it vanishes, slipping out of his hands.

He is an ember, a shield, a whetstone. His true love burns low and quiet—his true love is protection—his true love is a thing against which a blade grinds, so that it might be something greater and better than himself.

Curufinwë Atarinkë is lesser than his father and lesser than his son, but he loves them, and that is his true love: not whatever thing he might have felt for one who could not stay in his heart.

definition | picrew