#elesheir

[woodlandborn-a]

               ⋙ SC ⋆    @ELESHEIR .

Blue - grey   light   heralds   the   night   in   slight   shards ,   trees   bloomed   white   as   winter   appear only as ghosts,  adorned with pallid stars.  Bedecked is he,  woodland’s son,  in the pleasant glow,  reclined 'neath the arms of a lilac tree.  Pale evening,  beautified by stars as the white-stone abode he’s wandered from.  Their meeting is of little consequence in the grand scheme,  nor is their timing excogitated,  but when his view beautified by stars is interrupted,  such begets from him a frown.  Elessar,  meant to shine hope bright as the jewels above his head,  appears a ruddy stranger looking down upon him,  some vagabond lost amongst the trees.   The scent of damp earth,  rainwater pervades.

“  Baur-dh al-garo tol bara ae thel-dh an awartha iôl. . .  ”

[pheriannath-blog]

@elesheir

          “There’s much more than just Second Breakfast as well. Though some do skip it.”

[bombadil-archive4]

@elesheir​ happy birthday estel I’m so glad you sent me to investigate those goblin sightings and then peaced out to take a ring to mordor love you bunches xxx

[laikehend]

➹┆ 𝑮 𝑾 𝑨 𝑫 𝑶 𝑹 @elesheir | continued from [ x ] )

The ranger accepted heartily. Cradled in the breadth of his palm, the apple’s color shone; its red, fresh and ripened with spring, glinted wetly in its drops of morning dew. What a pleasant surprise. Head craned, Aragorn casted his friend a grateful glance, and through all his filth and piling toil, a shimmer of a smile yet sweetened him, still. Without wait, he unsheathed the curious dagger draped he kept. Snicking the stem, the fruit was cleanly halved. “Generous is your heart, Legolas,” the wizened mortal praised. Slowly, he reached forward, too, offering him his share. “I see not why I must indulge in it alone.”

       ALLOWING THE MINUTE UPTURN to his lips when offering the fresh fruit to flourish into a full smile. pleased that his friend was delighted by the unexpected , though humble , gift. the fine morning as this deserved a deviation from the travel rations for the breaking of fast , & with an apple tree at hand seemed to spell fate for a sweet morning repast. the fact so little fruit remained on the lower branches dispirited legolas none , a short leap & up he had climbed. in search of the best pick.

       AT ARAGORN’S OFFER TO share , legolas shifted to let his feet slide off their brace against the branch above whilst his hand released its grip in tandem. dropping silently to the ground , soft boots leaving not but a shallow depression within the soil there. extending a hand , he accepted the apple half with an appreciative nod.

                         « ➽ »

          ❝ You speak of my generous heart , yet here you share with me.               Hannon le , mellon nín , mîl-eg mann tad sen aur an-ui yáva nér laeb sui sen. ❞

       FOLDING HIS LEGS BENEATH himself , the eryn edhel sat beside the ranger. admiring the quality of the apple a moment , deep red enticing enough it nearly shone & pale inside dripping a bit of juice along his fingers down to his palm from where it had been sliced , before taking a bite.

[mornedhel]

"It is growing dark."

“It is,” the archer nodded, perched as she was atop one of the sturdier branches of the tree. The Sun had long fallen beyond the horizon, darkness encompassing the wide expanse of the forest and yet it was not of night that she thought while keeping her guard in the penumbra. The world itself was growing ever darker, fouler and worrisome, shadows stretching relentlessly across the land. Her homeland was but one of many being affected by it.

[synthmama]

@elesheir // sc.

"You’ve got some--” She points a finger over her chin, circling, before pointing to him. “--thing in your beard.”

[flyzireael-blog]

@elesheir     liked for a starter.

He was skilled, quiet footed and dark as night. 

❝ Man in the shadows, who do you hide from? You’ve little reason to stalk me, so why don’t we chat? ❞

[nobleevenstar]

         Memories of a life LONG lived flash before her eyes, and spill from her lips. Lips that hid sorrow and grief behind brightened smiles. Her heart was another story. Hidden in shambles. Nearly lost to the world. The time she dread had come at last to her. To him.

          She had seen it, as her Father and Grandmother both; but she had cast those thoughts aside in favor of living for each and every moment she spent with him. Elessar, the brilliant light that lit her life, and the lives of their children, was now f a d i n g. 

          He lay upon the silken sheets, hair white as snow, and limbs frail. Strong still was his spirit, but time had been cruel in the recent years; painting his body with the signs -- while she yet held none. Their children were GROWN, a legacy not easily dimmed in the coming ages, but in this moment, those years seemed only  M O M E N T S . 

         She grasped his hands tightly, fear of letting go for a final time. Eldarion had been passed the crown, their daughters taken to duties within the Kingdoms. All was coming to an end. Yet, a filter she lay across her sight, for she would forever remember her King as the young ranger that had worried so over her heart. He was there, still, lying before her; smile gentle and eyes kind. He knew the pain that would haunt her heart once his eyes closed for the final time -- and so he delayed -- for her. But it was still not enough. 

          Of every farewell she had spoken, this would be her demise. Her doom. Already she saw the blooms upon her grave, atop the hill in which this journey began. Time would catch her yet, but not this day, nor the next. Her heart would grieve until nothing else remained, and she would wither from this world as ash upon the wind. But not this day. This day her heart would die. Her soul, her love, her hope. Their journey led to this final day together, but it would NEVER be enough! 

          Her reminiscing of their troth upon the mound of Cerin Amroth fades to S I L E N C E , and tears fill her vision until all recognition is blurred. A cry echoes in the room, from where she does not know. She knows only one thing. Estel is gone. Hope is gone. Love. Is. Gone. Time stills as she clings to the lifeless body of her heart, desperately hoping for a single moment more. A hope to no avail, for her prayers fall to empty ears. His fragility has increased tenfold, for there is none but the body of an old man in her arms. A bell sounds above, echoing through the stone walls. It is the toll of finality. The King has died.

          Distantly, she can hear the footsteps of the King’s Guard, waiting outside the door -- they wait for her -- but she ignores them.  This would end on her account, at her heart’s readiness. She would let him go; to be solemnly carried to the grave that awaits, but she would not join him. She would ready her leave. But not yet. Valar, please not yet!  

                                                             ❝ Lá! Endanya!❞

          Her voice startles her to realization. Time has passed amidst the cries mingling with tolls. Her body shakes with the intensity of it. It had been her voice all along, those guttural cries of primal grief. So unknown to her. Yet now she wraps herself in it, clinging to the only thing she would now feel. The sun lowers in her sky, moving steadily toward the horizon. It would be cruel to have the Guard bury him at dusk. The thought echoes along the outside of her consciousnesses; pulling her from broken stupor. 

           Time reveals itself in her stiff muscles -- for she is mortal although touched only lightly by age -- and she lay a final kiss upon his cold lips. The Valar had blessed their union; and they would REUNITE in the Halls of Mandos, in time. Now came the moment of her payment. The PRICE for such a life as theirs. Tinúviel had known her grief, and so too would Undómiel. Slowly did she rise to unsteady feet, shakily making way to the door. It was opened afore her, and all parted way for her exit. She saw none of them. Her mind closed everything around her as she walked to her painting room. Here she would remain until the ceremony had passed. Word of Elessar’s death would shake the Kingdoms to their core, but Eldarion would bring a strong rule as his father has -- had. 

          The days fade to one, and she packs only for a light journey. Her children gather before her, and the first SMILE in nearly a week graces her lips. The loves of her life. How they had grown into such strong people. They had known little strife, but had been educated upon the sufferings of their people’s history. They would carry the future upon their shoulders. Yes, it was theirs now. No longer did the world need their Evenstar, for the flames of her children would now light the way. Their parting was brief, for all that needed to be said had been spoken weeks before, during Aragorn’s beginning of descent. It now was time.

          She remembers the journey not, only that she now walks among the deserted, silent  remains of  Lothlórien. To Cerin Amroth. Time blurs. The seasons have changed since her arrival, but the only season she knows if GRIEF. Rain settles upon her dress as she makes her final ascent, the arrival she has so been awaiting. Her heart tells her the time has come -- for it can hold no more as this empty shell. She lie, looking to the clouds that reflect her glassy eyes, and at long last, PEACE washes through her fëa. Eyes close. Arwen Undómiel, Queen of the Reunited Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor, daughter of Elrond or Rivendell, and Evenstar of her people  f a d e s  from the world of men.

[warhornofgondor]

elesheir replied to your post “honestly all i need is the AU where Boromir retires to the Shire and...”

id read an entire 900 trilogy on this au

this is only encouraging me to write a drabble.

[pheriannath-blog]

fckn longshanks. ( @elesheir )

[laikehend]

DÚNADAN  EN  FORVEN  /  RANGER  OF  THE  NORTH ;

“ ... they were now few and rarely seen. When they appeared they brought news from afar , and told strange forgotten tales which were eagerly listened to ; but the Bree - folk did not make friends with them. ”  ( fellowship of the ring , j.r.r. tolkien )

for @elesheir  /  bc this rugged ranger you hold so dear   

[starmcrning]

@elesheir

    His presence is heady as smoke and just as quick to dissipate. Because of this, she finds that the time they share need not pander to pleasantries. They are too familiar with one another to have need for anything but a single glance to know how the other is feeling. She looks him over now, standing 'neath the dim cast of a waxing moon, all the age he carries evident in sullen features.

    ❛ Cin gal-gum. ❜

[chainsxwsmile]

It was a trap for some massive animal; perhaps it had been built to capture an unfortunate bear. Or something larger, who knew. Bruce was quite ignorant of the fauna beyond the mountains of Mordor. He was an alien among bizarre animals and plants of which he hadn’t yet seen. Granted, there were the few shrubs and herbs that appeared to possess a wide range extending from Mordor and further west. However, animals were another story.

And whoever had set this trap had expected quite a large beast. Unfortunately for Bruce, that large beast was him. 

The olog reached out towards the tree onto which the trap was secured, only to fall more than a few meters short. He tried once more before accidentally putting pressure on his injured foot and collapsing to the ground. The trap’s metal teeth embedded themselves sufficiently into the flesh along Bruce’s ankle, bypassing his foot and slicing dangerously close to his Achilles tendon. He had attempted to tug the trap off from the ground in order to break it open with his hands, but found that the devices was, instead, chained to a number of trees, all of which prevented the olog from moving any further. 

Bruce had, rather foolishly, launched his spiked mace at one of the trees in hopes of dislodging the chain, and allowing his injured foot a bit of give from the trap, but missed. Greatly. 

As night fell, the olog grew exhausted with his efforts and slumped down on the pine needle-laden ground with despair. There existed the option of chewing his own foot off. Goodness knows, he’d imagine some ologs wouldn’t be against that, especially considering the alternative of facing whoever made the trap in the first place. 

Just as Bruce was about to give in to a drowsy slumber, his nostrils flared at the sudden familiar scent.

Man.

@elesheir