#:: idril :: pxnxply ::

[scion-of-kings]

The tides of Sirion | For @pxnxply's Idril Celebrindal

Their numbers had grown, but that was seldom a good omen in a place such as the Havens of Sirion. Their numbers had grown because the remnants of another fallen realm had found their way into their sanctuary, and only more would follow.

Gil-galad was barely sixty, but the sense of naivety that tends to cling about someone at that tender age had departed him long ago. Today, sweat covered his brow and the worn tunic he'd donned earlier in the morning had become a canvas of mud stains and saltwater as he helped around the settlement.

It had been barely a week since the host of the Gondolindrim, led by Princess Idril and her husband, had arrived with weary feet and even wearier hearts, and Sirion had since burned with activity. More tents had been raised to protect the newcomers from the elements while construction work began, children had been gathered at one of the longhouses so they could continue with their lessons and games, and the adults were making sure their newest additions had safe places to rest, and that their provisions were enough.

Círdan and Naneth had assigned him several tasks for the day while they oversaw their own share of duties, and Gil-galad had soon found out that physical work could be rewarding —in the sense that his head didn't spin with everything that entailed having the Gondolindrim here.

It was when he lifted his head to reach for a jug of water that he saw that Idril was just a few paces away.

"Watch your feet!" he called, hoisting himself up from the hole they'd been digging. He wiped his brow with the cuff of his tunic before getting to his feet. "It is... Uhm, foundation work. I have been told your new dwellings will be stronger that way."

He knew next to nothing about construction work —other than ship building—, but he'd found out it was at times difficult to speak with people he barely knew yet, and that was as good an excuse as any. His mind was still reeling from the fact she was a cousin of him, one he had never known until now, and all the implications of her being here.

"I trust your people are adapting well to the Havens?" he half asked, his voice tentative.

[orodrethiel]

Sun dipped across the vale of Tumladen, hiding at end of day behind Echoriad Mountains, and soon the night stars appeared. Finduilas watched the process from upon the walls, silent as a spectre though her mind was ever moving. Such was the nature of her life still, not yet fully recovered from the fall of Nargothrond, still haunted by the shadows and snarls of orcs in her ears. The stars whirled above her head as she laid on a bench, unsure exactly what she would do next. She was fortunate to have found this place, a hope beyond hope had given way to blessedness, some small benevolence.

She should be dead. Guilt still gnawed on that score, the memory of the elleth who had taken her place filling her with both gratitude and shame. She missed Gwindor. Another point of guilt. Love had returned for him, but all too late. He had defended her to the last. How foolish had she been to allow her heart to wander, to a mortal who did not even come for her. What sort of imaginings she'd had to his valiance, how empty had they been. Death would have met her upon the road to Brethil, and Turin would not have been there.

Footsteps caught her attention, and her eyes moved although her head did not, looking to see who it was. "Hello Cousin, what brings you here?" She asked lightly, as if her thoughts were of summer instead of darkest night. "Do you require me for something?"

starter for @pxnxply

[ondothlim]

❝ A title is all I am to you. Don't pretend otherwise. ❞ (Idril and Maeglin for the dramaaaa)

Inbox Answered---

--- He would never understand his own feelings toward her, but her words cut through him like a knife. Brow furrowed, his breath was heavy in his lungs, heart battering away in his chest. Idril was speaking to him, but the words coming from her were just. . . Wrong.

Titles? Whatever made her think he cared about that? He was Lord of the House of the Mole, which was more than he had ever expected. After all, his father had told him since he was capable of understanding speech that none of his kin would accept him. But Turgon had recognized him, given him power, a voice in his council, and asked his opinions and trusted his perception. He had more than he could have ever desired.

Except for her, of course. He could not understand that either, she seemed determined to dislike him, no matter what he tried.

"Titles are technicalities. A word used to convey respect, and quickly taken away on the whim of fate. It is something to gain or something to lose." He approached her cautiously, unnerved by his own desire for her, yet he lowered his voice all the same. "It is not your title I crave, Lady Idril, but your spirit, your soul, the freedom of your laugh and the cleverness in your eyes. They are worth more than any title anyone could bestow."

@pxnxply

[helreginn]

@pxnxply​

@thegreatstrongbow asked:

[ FAKE ] :  for  sender  muse  to  pretend  to  know  receiver   muse  in  public  to  save  them  from  a  difficult  encounter. (Idril)

She knew it was bold and somewhat impetuous to approach a woman of such standing without ever having been introduced to each other first but Hel was desperate. Heart racing, tears welling desperate. She couldn’t see him but she felt him there still. Waiting. Watching. Following her every movement.

He had trailed her for more than ten minutes. An intimidating leer in his eye and a devious smirk on his mouth. For a moment she thought herself cornered alone. Luckily she caught sight of Idril before desperation turned to violent defense.

In a moment of sheer panic and helplessness, Hel stepped forward, calling after the only other person in the courtyard. “Ah, Princess!” Her voice was shaking, eyes silently pleading, “It is such pleasure to see you again. I bring news from my lord, m.. may I share it with you in private?”

@pxnxply

[amidst-snow-and-ice-moved]

‘ you'll find more cheer in a graveyard. ’ (Halre from Idril)

a snort was the first response Halrë gave, his expression remaining blank. "I'm not surprised. I'm only here because your father asked for some reason." the smith was leaning against the wall, hands resting on the handles of his swords and ignoring the way that the King's gaze kept flicking towards them both.

@pxnxply

[iriysse]

❝  i remember little more than scattered images from my life then.  ❞ (Idril)

Inbox Answered---

--- Aredhel looked at her niece in contemplation, a pang of sadness filling her at Idril's admittance. It had never occurred to her that as young as she was, memory would not have been as strong as her own. Aman felt like a dream, here in the colder and darker Beleriand, even to Aredhel, but she spoke of it with fondness. She'd thought Idril would have been able to recall. . .

"I'm sorry, I did not realize. . ." she paused and sighed, pulling her niece close by her shoulders with a smile. "Doesn't matter. What do you remember, if I may inquire?"

@pxnxply

[helreginn]

"Both." Hel repeated again, confirming that she approved of the beginnings of this plan. She wasn't confident that it would work but in lieu of literally any other option... the redhead sighed softly and sipped at the tea.

"I have coin, if your attendants are able to find someone willing to part with a dress." Probably not enough to buy a new one, only a few Castar but.. with the princess' favour, hopefully it wasn't too big an ask.

She missed her old friends. It felt like they all were gone now. She ran from danger with no person or place of safety to run towards. "Are you sure it's alright? I do not want anyone to be in peril because of me."

“Both.” That would work nicely. The festival was already planned; it would be a small matter to make sure the crowds ‘accidentally’ shifted him down the wrong paths, and she had a lady-in-waiting, about Hel’s height, and with a hood and the right clothing, she could pass for her at a distance. “I will oversee it. Someone will pretend to be you, and while he follows them I will send you off in the opposite direction. Hm. You’ll need new clothes.”

[strengthandvigour]

"What happened to you?" (Idril @pxnxply)

"I am not sure what happened. I only remember that I was bruised, with some blood on my face. I did not want you to see me like that, my lady."

@pxnxply

[rangers-are-cool-moved]

List of Tolkien only replies, asks and starters. If your name isn't on here and you think it should be, let me know please.

Blog: @rangers-are-cool

Owes Talion | easternshadow | 1 Mairon | admirableringmaker | 2 Thorin | orchristwelder | 2 Beleg | thegreatstrongbow | 16 Eruingil | storiedocs | 9 Viola | wanderingarcherviola | 2 Maedhros | gezelligheiid | 1 Bruce | chainsxwsmile | 1 Fin | lordofthegoldenflower | 1 Elrond | maedhrosthered | 1

Asks Eskelwolf | [ nightmare ] - for my muse to meet your muse in their nightmares. | Hal Eruingil | ❛i'm here for you. no matter where or when i'll always be here for you.❜ | ? Mordu | ❝ a man in your place should count himself fortunate that his head is still on his shoulders. ❞ | ? Eruingil | She is playing with his hair because Chief Hair Soft. | Aragorn Mordu | here, i think this is yours. | ? Eruingil | Erui at… a number of people probably (especially Aragorn) but her mouth is Shut)) ʘ‿ʘ | Aragorn

Starters Eruingil | storiedocs | Lyth Viola | wanderingarcherviola | Hal Oriinthel | fxrest-born | Aragorn Celebrian |silvercrowned | Arathorn & Estel

Blog: @amidst-snow-and-ice

Owes Celebrian | silvercrowned | 1 Beleg | thegreatstrongbow | 4 Mablung | thegreatstrongbow | 1 Thranduil | kingofthemirkwoodelks | 1 Duilin | pxnxply | 2 Amarie | ofthevanyar | 2 Turgon | malkuvoitenoldoran | 2 Maedhros | gezelligheiid | 1 Eruingil | storiedocs | 1

Asks Amarië | ofthevanyar Beleg | 😞 for Halre ❰❰ ALMOST ❱❱ (kingofthemirkwoodelks) Idril |‘ you'll find more cheer in a graveyard.’ | for Halre

[scion-of-kings]

a kiss on the temple. (Idril)

It was meant to be a sweet, tender gesture, but Gil-galad felt his lips tightening to contain emotion when the soft pressure of his cousin's kiss graced his temple. With a lowered head in a futile attempt to hide his expression, his gaze got lost on the intricate patterns woven in the carpet at their feet.

“Thank you,” he mumbled at last, voice soft and laden with everything he dared not say aloud; all his hopes and fears, all the anxiety building up inside. “Thank you for trusting I will be enough.”

@pxnxply

[ofthevanyar]

Amarië thought of a very specific book she kept under her pillow - but she would not be sharing that with Itarillë.

"It is the act that marries two elves..." Amarië began. "Sometimes it is a man and a woman, or two women, or two men. The couple removes their clothes -" Well, she supposed sometimes this was not necessary, but she didn't want to confuse Itarillë.

Amarië paused again and sighed. Finally, she took out her sketchbook and drew Itarillë a diagram.

“Very well.” Amarië sighed. “When a couple desire to be together…” how to phrase it?

[ondothlim]

a kiss on the cheek. From Glorfindel from Idril

Inbox Answered---

--- "Why hello there little flower." She was the sweetest being in all of Arda, that was Glorfindels opinion. She may be his princess, but to him she was his family. The kiss made him grin, and in appreciation of the affection he dropped a fond kiss to her forehead. "There, just for you."

@pxnxply

[helreginn]

[ FAKE ] :  for  sender  muse  to  pretend  to  know  receiver   muse  in  public  to  save  them  from  a  difficult  encounter.  (Idril)

✧ — ⋆   𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 .

@thegreatstrongbow

@pxnxply

>>Answered Here<<

[ondothlim]

  your vote of confidence is overwhelming.  (Idril and Glorfindel)

Inbox Answered---

--- Glorfindel studied the plans, jade gaze roving over the map which they included, heavy in heart and mind. Defenses had never weighted on him like this, but the knowledge that one day these tunnels would need to be used felt inevitable. And with it another weight was felt: the weight of something ending, yes, but more. . . more that he could not put into words.

Yet, he moved his mind from it, passing back into the moment and laying the map down upon the table.

"On the contrary, my lady, I am confident that the tunnels will successfully lead us out of the city safely. I am confident that we can build them in secret as well, easily manuevering it between ourselves." He paused, and looked up at her. "I am less confident in where it will lead us out to. The mountains would be difficult to defend in the event of invasion. They would leave the retreating citizens very open as they went through the passes. I may suggest we create something more. . ."

He paused and shrugged sheepishly. "More."

@pxnxply

[nandekano]

Nande laughed, deeply amused by Idril's solution even as Finno cast him a brief scowling look. "Ah but I do not believe your uncle Finno wants his little brother to toss him into the air like an elfling."

He gave his niece a playful wink, "It might ruin his reputation with the other elves you see."

“I fear I can go no higher dearest one. You shall have to be content at the height you are now.”

“Or return to your ‘better’ uncle.. uncle Nande! For I am tall and strong and will toss you high into the air.”

[ofthevanyar]

(Idril) ❝ I would rather die than marry the likes of him. ❞

Amarië sighed, and continued brushing out Idrils hair.

“It’s not as though you’re marrying him tomorrow. He is a good man, Idril.”

@pxnxply