#storiedocs

[heartsdefine]

↪ memes — accepting!

@storiedocs said: Eruingil for Frodo. She’s not a bad cook, just one that is utterly destructive to the average kitchen. “What does this taste like to you?”

        Frodo's head lifts when the Ranger addresses him, blue eyes flickering up to her face and then down to the offered bowl in her hands. “Oh, I—thank you.” He accepts the offering, grateful for the warmth in his hands, though his appetite seems to be growing smaller and smaller as his quest continues. He takes a careful bite before answering: “...like peppercorn and rosemary.” A slight smile quirks the corners of the hobbit's lips. “My uncle used to make roasted potatoes with rosemary.”

[rangers-arecool]

@storiedocs :: eruingil | reply to this ::

Aragorn smiled softly, his attention almost fully diverted from the paperwork. He broke the kiss a moment later but kept her in a hug for a few more minutes, before letting go. He eyed the pack then her with a raised eyebrow but didn't say a word.

"Hal normally does this but he went on a mission, so I didn't have much choice." His smile turned rueful, since it was well known among the Rangers that the Esteldin Commander handled 90% of the day to day paperwork.

There was a side look, before his lips twitched with amusement. "Only if I do the actual writing."

[rangers-are-cool-moved]

((@storiedocs Erui for... Hal, Aragorn, Arathorn, Elrohir... who are you feeling? See if we can get some juices flowing with a few Erui Shenanigans.)) ⚠

sharp silvery grey eyes scanned the area around the small campsite from the trees. it wasn't his turn to do so but he'd offered to take Eruingil's turn, due to her injuries. as Elrohir returned to ground level, he spotted a trail of blood coming from her direction and narrowed his gaze.

"Where else are you hurt?"

@storiedocs

[swordoaths]

Promised starter for @storiedocs

All was still, save for the slight breeze that whispered through the forest, catching the leaf-shaped skirt that billowed down to her ankles. Crouched amongst the trees both tall and ancient, Tauriel seemed to be nothing more than an extension of the forest-- one who moved when the trees no longer could. Fingers curled round the hilt of her daggers like gnarled bark, awaiting disturbances upon the forest floor from the steps of some traveler who did not fear what Men called Mirkwood.

She remained still for so long that her breathing slowed to mimic the coming and going of the breeze. But in her stillness, there came another-- one who walked in the company of animals. Tauriel stretched, and though she grew taller and alert in her stance, her feet did not yet move.

Suddenly, and all at once, Tauriel pulled away from the trees like someone had pulled apart moss rooted to a tree trunk. Her feet came down noiselessly upon the path, with the only sign that she had moved at all being the long tresses of her hair swooping about her form. The wariness of her kin soon gave way to starlit eyes, a lilted brow, and the corner of her mouth drawn upward.

"Mae govannen, Eruingil," she greeted in the tongue her kinfolk adopted. "I see you do not travel alone." Lowering her head, Tauriel regarded the animals travelling with her. "It has been some time since last you came to our lands. Tell me, what brings you here?"

[sonxofxgondor]

@storiedocs

“No. B’gone. Mus’… mus’… mus’…” The fevered stranger in the Houses of Healing tried to bat away the Captain, slurring Sindarin protests even as they forgot what was it they must do. But though they sounded like an Elf, they were obviously mortal (as evidenced by the fact that they had fallen ill). Eruingil was familiar with the sensation of walking into a room and forgetting why, or of realizing they had misplaced an object, or any number of other careless mistakes that made the people around them sigh in frustration and give half-hearted lectures about trying harder. The stone architecture of the Houses, in their delirium, made them think they were home again—but they couldn’t hear the sea! Where was the sea? Had they managed to lose the entire Gulf of Lune? Lord Cirdan was going to be so disappointed in them. “…Mus’ find th’ sea! I’ve lost it!” Frantically, the fevered stranger looked around the room, as if they might spot a large body of water errantly set beside a mortar and pestle, or hanging from a cloak-hook. Rest was not an option when they’d lost something so important! How could they be such a dullard? They lurched forward, frantic enough with fever to begin overturning mattresses and looking under bedside tables for the missing sea. “Ai… Where did I put it…?”

Waters and Orcs alike had been cruel in their treatment of Gondor's greatest and finest warriors. Cold in how the blade struck flesh, emotionless in the push and pull of waves overhead, the battle was intense and many were lost by the hand of either foe. No more was there a bridge in Osgiliath to stand upon. Rubble had the stone been reduced to; pearl-like chunks and bits splashed into the Anduin as if they were no more than trash to be tossed away. Boromir and his men had seen the bridge's destruction. Caused the very foundations to crumble, sought the pathway's total defense against darkness, fell into the almost winter-like chill of the waters below. Every part of them was drenched and frozen to the touch. Survivors that numbered just Boromir and Faramir and two others, together they swam until they reached mainland. Coughed and cleared their lungs, fainted nearly into the arms of healers once they came.

And it was from the mouths of those such healers that had sealed Boromir's fate. He could not leave the Houses of Healing without their permission. No foot over the doorway and out into the world. Not even the hairs upon his head were allowed to be swept by possible gusts of untamed wind - all aspects of himself were to remain inside and to remain in bed beside his brother and his men. Sickness had befell the survivors entire. Sore muscles and aching limbs, noses that were stuffed of mucus and ears that felt clogged. Boromir was not to escape the grounds. Nor would he ever attempt to, but wander across them he did. Walked the garden and breathed in the airs. Sampled the treats and meals and hot cups of tea, adventured into the other rooms of the Houses of Healing and watched those who were cast with the same stroke of luck.

"Are you alright, friend?" Boromir asked as he tiptoed into a room that was not his or Faramir's own, just across the hall and to the left. An expression of puzzlement and wonder danced within his eyes. "What is it that you search for? Perhaps I could help you in looking. Here, let me lend you a hand."

Approaching closer to the lonesome stranger who took to a room alone, no friends nor apparent family close by, like them Boromir, too, investigated beneath a table, carved wood from oak trees.

Boromir smiled. "I must confess to you that the hand I lend shakes awfully. I have become terribly sick, stricken with the common cold like my brother and my friends. But I will do all that I can to help you find your lost thing. Least, until my hand grows too tired and is unable. I hope you don't feel as unwell, friend. I wish you fast recovery. May I ask how you are feeling? Do you mind my questions as we... search further beneath your... bedding? Have you taken your mattress from your bedpost?"

[amidst-snow-and-ice-moved]

when the Rangers of the North wanted to keep a secret, they did so far too well. never giving it up unless in exceptional circumstances and this time was no different. especially as revealing it would mean being on the receiving end of both their Chieftain and Commander's anger, which wasn't pleasant.

the secret? Taenil's unexpected return and subsequent recovery after being a prisoner in Mordor.

but he had changed. had turned darker, although none of the rangers could blame him. it was at the young elf's request himself that he'd be given missions, which would take him to places very few went. Aragorn understood, as did Hal, so it was easy to slip away into the Wilds and only have limited contact with folk.

rarely ever did he get missions to go near inhabited places, making most think that he was dead. if he did, the elven ranger tended to work mostly at night to avoid a lot of interaction. but he had stayed away from the settlements of the elves, until now. for his mission was to pick up a letter for Aragorn.

@storiedocs

[askrossiel]

((@storiedocs Eruingil)) “I could go for some dumplings.”

"As could I. I could sing the praises of those fish-dumplings from that stall in the marketplace..." the bard mused, eyes daydreamy. "It is... perhaps well that I am not as skilled in Song as my teachers, or I'd make us all the hungrier for shaping their image!"

[thegreatstrongbow]

((@storiedocs Eruingil for Shits and Giggles)) 🌿

"Come here."

He loved Dúnedain parties, especially at this time of year. He had sampled a great deal of their local alcohol (and of course, he had come bearing gifts of food and drink) and now he sat waiting until a sprig of mistletoe, for someone to cross his path.

He kissed her, swift and light, and gestured up to the plant.

"Enjoying yourself?"

[praeteritus-memories]

@storiedocs​ - reply

He can’t help but admit that the dress was really pretty, but he was thinking of it more on Ilia than on himself. Yet he didn’t really vocalize it given Link often chose to not speak from his own distaste for speaking too much around those he can’t say he knows too well. 

Looking in his bag of rupees, he shows her that he’s just short of actually buying it. Blue eyes stare up curiously, would Eruingil pitch in? 

[undesiredwish]

((@storiedocs Eruingil for a bit of Arda Fun)) “ i did meet some of the most insufferable people, but they also met me ”

❝  that is a way to look at it. ❞ maybe not entirely healthy but clow supposes it's really none of his business on that front. either way, his company seemed content with that so that was enough for him. / @storiedocs

[orcristwielder]

@storiedocs // continued from this.

x. Bright blues watch the other as he listened. Thorin should have known to expect a lecture with his meal, but there was the small thought that just maybe it wouldn't have happened for once. And then it did happen, so the dwarf had been left to mull over her words as he ate.

'Take care of yourself'

For whatever reason being told to take care of himself or that he wouldn't be here to be there for anyone struck a nerve within. 'For me,' that last one alone was enough to make the brunette rethink how he took care of himself. Erui had been nothing but helpful and how was he to pay that help back? Getting sick. With a soft huff Thorin had taken to delving into the meal before him.

But of course, he had his nephews to look after - since they'd invited themselves on the quest. Their mother had a fit when she'd learned of their decision, ultimately allowing them the opportunity once things had been talked out. And here he was; not eating or resting well. The dwarf snorted at that thought though he turned his attention to Erui, "You don't need me, Eruingil."

[elerondo]

@storiedocs (x)

     In contrast to her rigidity, Elrond was completely relaxed. Returning to the work table, he pushed away some pouches so that he could lean against the edge, turning towards Eruingil. In the midst of singular company, not too many eyes on his lack of grace, the Lord loosed his shoulders and slackened his back. He is just a scholar, enjoying a moment of breeze. He tilts his head, lips pulled a soft edge smiling at the paradox presented. Nice play on words.

     ❝Then, you are not looking at the right place.❞ star eyes were knowing, realising, she must be up this late often. Elrond kept that information in his mind as he stretched a hand to swipe the cup of tea from the tray.

     Reminder of rest almost lured his spirit away, but a deep breath and a swallow of piping hot beverage steadied him well enough. He wasn’t done with the batches, thus he didn’t wish to stop. ❝You have my gratitude, child Please, dispense with the formalities.❞ he nodded to her. ❝What else do you get up to, other than attempt to lure a hardworking elf from his work?❞

[rangers-arecool]

@storiedocs :: eruingil | reply to this ::

  "Love you far beyond the Straight Road West.” He murmured softly, gently running his fingers through her hair. They had no need to worry about getting back, for a message had already been sent to his father and a response returned. He was happy, light fingers moving over her bare skin in a gentle manner.

  “Because we aren’t always on the same mission? And Dad would make me do all the paperwork if I even suggested it.” Aragorn grinned, kissing the corner of her lips. “Sleep Erui.”

[rangers-are-cool-moved]

((@storiedocs Erui kiss meme for Aragorn, who else?)) [ stolen ]

  Contrary to what it seemed, the son of Arathorn did actually do paperwork. It wasn’t something that he enjoyed doing but Hal hadn’t exactly him given much choice. Still he got on with it, for the other Ranger was out on a mission. Caught by slight surprise, storm blue eyes stared at her after the stolen kiss. Before he blinked, stood and pulled his newly arrived partner into a kiss. “Afternoon, Erui.”

@storiedocs

[arawynngoldwing]

It’s just a scratch, don’t worry.

@storiedocs asked:  ❛ it’s just a scratch, don’t worry. ❜ from Eruingil

Arawynn raised her eyebrow in disbelief. She knew Eruingil and Rangers in general well enough. None of them was the kind of person to admit an injury was bad until it get serious. This also included herself.

“I still want to see it.”, the redhead replied calmly, but in a manner that made clear she wouldn’t accept any sort of ‘no’ on the matter.

[amidst-snow-and-ice-moved]

For: Eruingil :: @storiedocs Muse: Taenil Ilmalire Liked for a Starter call | Shipping

getting asked to go on a peacekeeping mission by Aragorn, was not unknown to the young elf. some folk preferred him because they knew he would understand; whereas others found his silent calmness tended to help settle issues more peacefully. this... wasn't that kind of peacekeeping mission though.

somehow their, at least in his and Hal's eyes, seemingly suicidal Chieftain had managed to get one of their most accident prone rangers into a dress for a mission. ERUINGIL of all people. except in typical ranger mode, the mission had then gone completely out the window. and for once, it wasn't the fault of aforementioned ranger.

Taenil quietly slipped through the crowd of people, cool blue eyes scanning them for who he was here for. no one spotted the elvish ranger's approach, until he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Erui, you've got.. people worried..." his scars, combined with his pain roughened voice, had the Southerners looking more far more wary than they were, when Eruingil was alone.