#colours of Númenór

[insufficient-earth-skills]

Númenórean symbols: Queen-Regent Tar-Míriel in her regalia (seaweed crown, sunburst crown, waterdrop jewel crown).

Part 5 in a series on the colours of Númenór.

[brooklynislandgirl]

👑 / Boromir

Every Face a Different Shade || Accepting

WOULD I: YES / MAYBE / NO

Only maybe a handful of people know the amount of hours I put into an entire re-write of the Lord of the Rings from a Boromir-centric point of view, and the depths to which my obsession Love of this character goes, even before Sean Bean stepped into the role. In fact I remember weeping bitterly to Rabbit when Gabriel Byrne, who more closely resembles a man of Gondor in physical colouring and stature, was recast. And I was a huge fan of Bean at the time, too, so it struck Rabbit that my usual fan-girl feelings were for the character and not the one man he's said I have his permission to run off and leave him for.

{As a point of Order, Nathan Fillion is the one man he has MY permission to run off and leave me for}.

My heart still bleeds for the Captain-General, and it refuses to refrain from mourning him ever more. None shall see his like again.

HAVE I EVER BEFORE: YES / NO

Now, what I said above should more correctly fit into this category, but I feel that the only answer I can give here is thus:

And someday I might be blessed to feel the sun filter through the boughs of the White Tree as I lay among its roots and hear his laugh again.

I am very very overprotective of Boromir and of Tolkien and I don't feel comfortable allowing tumblr to get its filthy, unappreciative and grubby hands on him, on my stories, on any of the last 30 years of my life.

And somewhere in a dark tower in a dark land, I can hear the long suffering sigh of a very put-upon host as he eyes his grey eyed guest. And I am pretty sure that the Marquise put you up to sending this. *peer*.

Bonus:

The Lament for Boromir

From the mouths of the Sea the South Wind flies, from the sand-hills and the stones,

The wailing of the gulls it bears, and at the gate it moans.

‘What news from the South, O sighing wind, do you bring to me at eve?

Where now is Boromir the Fair? He tarries and I grieve.'

‘Ask not of me where he doth dwell – so many bones there lie,

On the white shores and the dark shores under the stormy sky,

So many have passed down Anduin to find the flowing Sea.

Ask of the North Wind news of them the North Wind sends to me!’

‘O Boromir! Beyond the gate the seaward roads runs south,

But you came not with the wailing gulls from the grey sea’s mouth’.

ICON & WRITING SAMPLE (IF YES TO EITHER PREV. QUESTION):

Unfurled across the black firmament were littered stars. Silent in their movements to music unheard, the legends of which he had never been quite scholarly enough to remember even if he reached for that impoverished memory now, some snippet of the long ago whence his brother would babble, too excited to sleep. Standing directly behind her, he drew his arm almost across her cheek, over the curve of her shoulder, and pointed toward one grouping that stood out brighter perhaps than the others.

The seven stars. "The Wain." His voice rumbled against the leaf of her ear with warm breath and he felt her shift from one booted foot to the other that she might raise her gaze toward it. "They were the symbols of Elendil. The Faithful escaped the Allkabeth on Elendil's nine ships. There had been a calamity between Elendil and the King's men, those who surrounded Númenór's king. They had rejected the friendship with Elves and allegiance to the Valar, espousing strife until it grew into outright defiance. Elendil could not countenance this blasphemy and gathered close to his bosom those who would be seen as rebels and dissidents but who knew what they must do. They preserved much of their ways, hiding lore and tradition as they became more persecuted. Eventually, those few who remained boarded ships and sailed forth, until landing in the Bay of Belfalas. Where Gondor was founded, where they were welcomed by your kind." He would have to be a fool not to hear the pride in his voice both for his ancestors and his city and yet more because it paired kinship he could foresee as further strengthening their attachment to one another. Faramir could give her dates and names. Details he's long forgotten. He is not entirely sure all of what he said was complete or true, but it was enough. Stout fingers retracted to feather through the midnight strands of her hair. "Tell me, my Elf. What do you call the Wain when you see it sail through the heavens?" He wait the span of a small eternity. Too close he could see the lines around her mouth pulled tightly together as if she'd taken a bitter bite. Lashes shaded her gaze robbing him a little of their glimmer. He was about to pull her closer still and try to soothe that pained expression. Promise her there would be no harm if she did not wish to share her secrets. But she spoke. It came as a whisper. Not like anything he'd ever heard from her before. "Otselen," she said. He did not know that word. She spoke again, just as bleak. "Valacirca." Sickle of the Valar. A challenge against the Dark Tyrant. This time, he cupped the point of her chin between his inwardly curled fingers. Scoured her face for the things she would not say. Sorrow clung heavily around his Elf. Which then became reflected in his own face until she spoke for a third time, accompanied by a newborn smile to soften them both. "Tell me more about your stars, my Captain."

[miloscat]

[Review] Middle-Earth: Shadow of War (PS4)

A worthy expansion. (Spoilers ahead!)

Having rushed through Shadow of Mordor I was expecting more of the same from its sequel, and an even deeper dive into edginess based on outside impressions. What I actually got was a much larger game with conscious steps taken to polish every corner and make this a sequel that truly surpasses its predecessor. And it paid off!

Shadow of War picks up immediately after SoM, with Talion and Celebrimbor creating a new One Ring. The intervention of Shelob—now absurdly a shapechanger with a sexy human form—throws a spanner in their plans and their accord. This new element of conflict between man and wraith makes for some interesting character dynamics which I appreciated as Talion struggles to cling to his humanity and help out Gondor while Celebrimbor becomes more stern and power-hungry (not to mention fantasy-racist). Broadly speaking there’s two phases to the game, one where Shelob is flirting with you and making you her errand boy and the other after reclaiming the ring where the objective is to capture territory and build an orc army across the diverse landscapes of Mordor including not just a lava pit but also a forested lakeshore, snowy mountain, desolate cave system, and the besieged city of Minas Ithil/Morgul. This “New Ring” seems underwhelming when all it does mechanically is unlock the brainwash power from the last game, but it ties in to the plot as well.

The events of the game are even more loony and fanfic-esque this time around (in a fun way, for the most part), with the Nazgûl playing a large role. There’s some nice stuff around the fall of Minas Ithil and the smaller stories like Carnán the Entwife/nature goddess(?) and her conflict with a Balrog, or Brûz the cheerful but treacherous Australian troll. I also liked them fleshing out individual Ringwraiths, including the East Asian ninja princesses in the DLC, although I had to raise an eyebrow at the idea that Isildur got fished out of the Anduin and converted into one semi-posthumously. This late-game reveal dovetails with the complete shark-jumping plot derailment of Talion becoming a Nazgûl himself, and Celebrimbor teaming up with the Elven assassin Eltariel and subsequently being subsumed into Sauron, the great Eye being a manifestation of their eternal spiritual conflict. Retconning major things we actually saw and learned about in LotR itself is where I drew the line, and it just wasn’t worth it for this ridiculous concept in particular. I’m not mad or anything, but when it comes to the epilogue it’s impossible to take this as seriously as it wants to be taken.

Unlike many other Tolkien-universe works, SoW has nods towards diversity… by including in the base game one (1) person of colour and three (3) women (as long as you count the one that’s also a monstrous spider). This is another step forward compared to its predecessor; however it falls into the trap of feeling the need to justify or explain their presence in the story. I can’t help but compare it to the excellent recent TV series Rings of Power, which had a much more varied cast but in such a natural way that never required remarking on. Arondir, Míriel, Sadoc, Disa, Bronwyn, etc. etc. are black or brown people who are just part of mixed cultures, while Baranor is a Haradrim who has to exposit how he came to live in the otherwise white Gondor. Númenór has female soldiers, and Nori and Galadriel are never treated differently because of their gender, where here Idril is “the only lady soldier” whose backstory must give reasons for why she is so, and whose plot involves male authority figures in her life bending over backwards to protect her. Yeah they gave the only female human character daddy issues, how original. (They also did this for the woman they fridged last game, remember.)

So anyway, I have some niggles with the story. As for the gameplay, no notes. The customisable skill tree is great with many fun new tweaks, expanded mechanics around brainwashing and beasts from the first game’s DLC are now standard (plus the addition of rideable mini-dragons!), new movement options like the double-jump and boosted climbing make getting around the larger maps (which there are now five of, plus an extra one with the DLC!) more fun, and the new loot system gave me more reason to engage with side missions and provided another satisfying way of improving and customising my character. The Nemesis system is back and more streamlined in effect, but also expanded with a lot more variation in orc appearances, the addition of troll enemies, and more distinct tribe/class affiliations and abilities. Basically they took everything that worked in the first game and made it bigger and better!

The only area I think is an actual misstep is in some of the facial modelling. The only character you can directly compare is Talion, who had a slightly stylised look in SoM. They seem to have invested in adding more detail and realism to the faces, which has unfortunately caused them to drop into the uncanny valley to greater or lesser degree, but in Talion’s case he looks much worse. At least his armour is shiny and customisable now, I guess. Small nitpick, ultimately.

As for the DLC, now there’s just two bonus orc tribes sprinkled into the main game, and two big story expansions. These are more substantial than the first game’s extra modes, each with a character that plays pretty differently. Eltariel has the new Light mechanic with all sorts of new abilities and interactions. She goes through four whole maps in her campaign, has her own skill tree, and a fun loot sidequest with optional challenges that I enjoyed ticking off. She also sidesteps the moral quandary of brainwashing orcs (they definitely have souls in this story’s metaphysical reality!) by refusing that power and instead forging real alliances with the weirdos and outcasts of Mordor’s orc/troll culture, it’s pretty cool! Baranor’s campaign is also excellent, set in a new desert map and with a form of permadeath since he doesn’t have magic resurrecting ring powers, although it only resets certain things. He plays more like the stripped-back Talion from the first game, but with his own overpowered skills largely thanks to a steampunk Númenórean device, not to mention powerful mercenaries to hire and a really fun looting system that continually stacks perks and upgrades on his gear. Actually between the grappling hook and parachute he’s a bit more like Scorpion Scorpio from off of Just Cause, and it’s awesome.

I was so surprised and pleased by how much Monolith were able to expand on what they had set up with SoM. The story is stupid at times but has a bigger scope that it also delivers on, more characters worth getting invested in, more compelling dynamics, plus similar moments of levity. The game world is bigger with more to do and more incentive to do it, with mechanics streamlined where they needed to be and expanded where there was room. And the Tolkien-universe stuff is again a fun soup of reverent lore and fascinating worldbuilding, balanced with ridiculous nonsense. I have few qualms regarding it as one of the truly great sequels to an existing work, almost to the point that I’d recommend someone just start with this one if they aren’t too invested in the story or have the completionist tendencies I do. Great stuff!

[pizzamaximoff]

Royal Responsibilities

I FINALLY GOT MY LAPTOP FIXED Heres a request from ages ago that I’m finally able to finish and post

Story: As the youngest princess of Lindon, you are required to attend to some royal duties every so often, even though you’d much rather traverse around on adventures. On this occasion you end up travelling to the Great Greenwood on behalf of your domain and a certain elf prince captures your attention and heart.  Warnings: Oropher is not nice, Thranduil is a Prince, lil teeny bit of angst  Word Count: 3,517

The woodland realm wasn’t like your home, it was hidden away. Shrouded in the vast depths of the Greenwood, it was a kingdom kept tucked far from the rest of the world. Your own home was much more open: being a falmari elf of royalty you travelled, you explored the seas of Arda and the lands too. You weren’t confined to your halls of residence in the Grey Havens but instead you were out interacting with everyone who visited, local or not. You acted more like that of common folk than a princess, contrasting with the other clans of elves who believed they were above the other races.

Spring was slowly approaching when you had received word that you were to travel to the woodland realm on behalf of the kingdom for a spring equinox feast, your parents and brothers being away on other business to the island of Númenór, not for anything serious but it was often required every few decades on a peace keeping standard. Of all your travels you had never once attended those to the kingdom of Oropher, always deciding to go on an exploration or adventure of some sorts instead of attending to the required responsibilities. Yet on this occasion there was no other member of royalty at hand so the duty fell to yourself. You had reluctantly agreed: these events often meant you had to present yourself in the manner of a princess, flowing dresses instead of practical leggings and the behaviour of a “proper” elven maiden. Your various dresses and essentials had been packed and with a group of your most trusted servants (who you actually considered friends) were off to the Greenwood. You had arrived later than you were expected to, only by a day or so for you had been distracted by the various travelling merchants and wandering groups you had met along the journey. You were eager to support and so various new pieces of jewellery now adorned your neck and wrists, nothing of gold or silver but of leather strips and coloured gems encased in brass and steel. You didn’t wear a silver circlet to indicate your status instead a simple weaved leather band with a teardrop of Lapis Lazuli in the centre. It was something that hinted at your position without being too flashy for your own personal tastes. The gates of the Greenwood were opened, your horses and carriages being taken in another direction after you had dismounted, careful not to step on the flowing hem of your sea blue gown. A silvan elf with a thin band of silver welcomed you with a bow, quickly sending others to alert the king of your arrival and take your belongs to your quarters for the stay. He soon lead you through the winding paths of the palace, his light chestnut hair swaying ever so slightly in the light breeze of the halls. Your eyes wandered in shock at the never ending palace, the beautiful contrast between the natural dark branches and the intricately carved works. It was unlike the other elven realms: your own home was more contrived of sculpted stone decorated in thick vines of ivy crawling up the walls, it was open to the sea and the everlasting horizon. The grand halls of King Oropher, however, were darker and closed off to the world. Your pace slowed as you absorbed the surroundings causing the advisor (or so you assumed) to turn around after noticing your distant footsteps, his green eyes narrowing by the tiniest amount at your dawdling. “Lady (y/n), please follow, the King is awaiting you”, he spoke gesturing ahead. “Ah right, sorry” you apologised sheepishly, cursing yourself under your breath at your behaviour. You had to present the maturity of a princess and not your usual self for you feared your family would never let you out on your explorations if negative word of the trip reached them. The light increased as you reached what seemed to be the heart of the palace, the throne room. A wooden throne with large and dramatic antlers extending outwards, upon the throne rested the King Oropher. His eyes were narrow and cold as he looked over you. “Princess (y/n) of Mithlond, welcome to Eryn Galen” his voice was monotonous and as cold as his glare. You were still for a moment before giving a quick curtsey before speaking. “King Oropher, I thank you for your hospitality. I must apologise for my lateness I had a few bumps along the road one could say” as you spoke you faintly registered the sound of foot steps approaching, brushing it off as an attendant. You were wrong, so very wrong. The owner of the footsteps waltzed into our line of sight while speaking. His deep voice commanding the room as he spoke. “Yes, it would very well seem so.” His icy blue eyes glanced over your body, lingering slightly on the lightly mud stained hem of your ocean gown before returning to your eyes. You shuffled awkwardly as he gazed over you, self conscious and regretting not changing to a new dress. His own robes were forest green with intricate silver embroidery along the collar and sleeves, they were pristine and gorgeous. His hair was of a platinum blonde, reaching the middle of his back and his height, well he was the tallest elf you had ever met. The King turned his eyes to the younger elf whom was of obvious importance with the twisted silver circlet upon his hair. “Thranduil.” He scolded harshly and it clicked that he was the prince of Mirkwood, Oropher’s only son. Thranduil rolled his eyes at his father before swiftly closing the space between you, he then took your hand in his own lifting it gently. His eyes were locked on yours the entire time “Forgive me Lady (y/n),” His voice was as smooth as honey, and he placed a soft kiss to your knuckles which almost caused your legs to turn to jelly. “Prince Thranduil at your service” a smirk upon his handsome features as he noticed the way your breath hitched. “It’s uh a pleasure to make your acquaintance” you rushed out, voice higher than usual. A cough brought you back into the room and out of the little bubble you had found yourself in. Both catching your own and Thranduil’s attention as he turned back to face the King, dropping your hand. “We shall allow you to get settled for the rest of the evening, if you need anything one of the maids shall attend to it, the feast will be held in a fortnight.” with Oropher’s statement you were escorted out of the throne room, but you couldn’t help to glance back at the prince from over your shoulder, happy to find that a smile graced his face as he watched you.

You awoke to a strong knock on the doors of the guest chambers. You groaned, opening your eyes and wincing at the bright light that assaulted them. The knock came again at your lack of response. With sleep disorientating you, you called out a weak response to let whoever was knocking know that you were coming. You dragged yourself out of the soft and plush bed and stumbled to the door, it was most likely your personal maid Phelorna coming to wake you for the day so you didn’t bother gathering your robe or smoothing your hair (she had seen you in worse states). Pulling open the door your eyes met a chest instead of the sea blue eyes of your friend. You slowly looked up meeting the widened eyes of the very prince you had fallen asleep thinking of. You both froze in place his eyes darting down for a split second and a faint blush appearing on his pale skin.  You quickly remembered your attire of a thin slip night dress and with a squeak you slammed the door shut. Your skin was warm with embarrassment, wishing you had put on the robe. A moment of silence passed before Thranduil knocked at the door again lightly, this time it was accompanied with his voice, deep as ever making your knees weak and in turn causing you to slip a little down the door you rested on. “My apologises, I didn’t realise you had just awoken.” Despite the expression you had seen on his face, his voice was particularly calm and controlled, unlike your own as you responded with a stutter. “Th-the fault is mine, my prince, I should have been decent”. With your words you could have sworn that you had heard a faint muttering of something from him, but you brushed it off as nothing. “Anyhow, did you need anything?” you continued, curious to know why he had come to you. 
“I was wondering if you’d like to join me in the Royal Garden’s they’ve just come into bloom and it is quite beautiful, after you’re ready of course” His voice wavered slightly, as if he was nervous of your response. You smiled at his request, however you spoke your head, he was just being polite, a good host, nothing more. “I would, very much enjoy that, but wouldn’t it take you away from your duties and the other guests, I don’t want to be a burden.” you said to him. “It’s no hassle. I’m sure the others will be fine, they’re of my father’s type anyway, all rather boring and dull.” You giggled lightly at this before responding. “Give me 10 minutes and I’ll be out.” You dashed back to the bedroom, pulling a sea green dress out and quickly changed. You smoothed your hair down, and tied back the front section. You went to rush back, holding up your skirts as to not trip, turning back to pull on your new items of jewellery and your head piece. You pulled the door open again and grinned at the tall elf who was shocked at your speed. “Lead the way, my prince” you said and he smiled as he walked towards you, holding his arm out for you to hold, which you do. “Please, just call me Thranduil.” Your smile widened as you looked up at him. “And call me (y/n) , if I’m honest I’m not too fond titles, or any of this princess business”. He chuckled at this and soon lead you to the gardens of Mirkwood and you were engaged in conversation the entire time.

The days passed and you had spent every waking moment with Thranduil. It started with the royal gardens, you would the talk walks or journeys through the forest, something to quench your need for adventure. Thranduil was eager to join your journeys, guide you through the forests. He would teach you the different plants and wonders of the Great Greenwood, it was more than you could’ve ever asked for on your stay. You detailed your many explorations to him, the changing environments of Arda and the various weird wonderful people or creatures you had met. He was fascinated, only ever having visited other nearby elf settlements or the nearby human city of Dale and Dwarven stronghold of Erebor. For such a great elf it seemed his life was sheltered, closed much like the kingdom he resided in itself. As you travelled through the forests and talked the nights away a strong bond had begun to build between the pair of you. Although there had been moments where King Oropher would be nearby, you could always feel his harsh glare upon you, as if he thought of you as a common elf; someone not good enough to be so close to his heir. Whenever he was around Thranduil would pull away ever so slightly, bringing a small distance. It was upsetting but you could see the need to please his father in him, so you let him pull away.

Even so, by the time the feast was held you and Thranduil had become as this as thieves, there was never a moment of discomfort when you were not with him. He sat at the main table next to the King, at the head of the open roofed hall, the stars shining down on him. Combined with the warm candle light it illuminated him, causing the long blond locks to seemingly glow and his eyes to sparkle. When your eyes met he smirked, knowing of your staring, you in turn smiled sheepishly but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. He was perfect, as if the Valar had crafted him themselves. It was only when Oropher called his name that he reluctantly pulled his gaze from you. You sat at a side table, observing the father and son, Oropher didn’t look particularly pleased as he spoke to Thranduil the latter’s strong brows furrowing and a frown settling onto his features as Oropher spoke. Oropher’s own eyes gestured briefly to you and his face turned sour and that’s when you realised he was talking about you. With shame you looked down, resorting to picking at the food on your plate with the cutlery, appetite suddenly gone. The dinner went on the same way it was only once the dancing began that you perked up, Oropher had left sight and Thranduil had promised to dance with you before the festivities began. You rose from the elegant eat and rounded the corner of the table. Thranduil to moved round, you walked towards him a bright smile upon your face. It was gone as soon as you had out it on as he walked away, instead to another elleth. One with eyes of sapphire and hair of white gold and a dress of a shining silver. He took her hand in his as he kissed it gently, just as he had done with you on your meeting. He hadn’t spared you a single glance as he lead the woman off to dance. It was as if the past two weeks had never happened, that you had just become another plain face in the crowd, a bore. You were brought out of your frozen state by another young ellon, a silvan elf with sweet green eyes. “Excuse me, may I ask you to dance” He asked, somewhat nervously with a warm flush on his cheeks. It was quite cute, however, you were really not in the mood to dance thanks to the Prince so you politely declined, mentioning that you needed a moment away from the party. His head fell in what could only be described as a crushed ego and you were quick to console him, “Ah but maybe later, mithril.” you said with a smile. He brightened up again and nodded enthusiastically making you laugh at the younger elves ways before excusing yourself. The weight of Thranduil’s ignorance came back in full force as you left the open room. The teal gown you wore was beginning to feel to tight and your head light so you began to make your way to a place where you knew you could relax with everything going on, the gardens. As you suspected they were empty, all servants working on the feast and all guests in attendance.  The beautiful flowers in full bloom were illuminated by various lantern posts lined along the path of the gardens, you followed down the path with your hand delicately passing along the petals and shrubbery. It filled you with peace, allowing you to push thoughts of the Prince to the back of your mind. The minutes passed and you had reached the secluded pool that was hidden deep within the gardens. The night sky above caused the pool to glitter, it was so inviting, tranquil. You pulled of your shoes and hiked up your dress, settling on the lip of the pond so your feet and calves were submerged into the clear water. It was a cool blanket against your skin, and finally being with the water reminded you of home, oh how you wished you were still there. It was in the silence of the night with your head resting in your hands, which in turn rested on your thighs, that you let your thoughts return. The harsh gaze of the King was one thing but Thranduil, that was unbearable. You sighed letting the emotions build and the tears to slip out. Your body shook lightly with the soundless tears turned sobs, it had been a a long time since you had last cried. God you hated it.  The influx of emotion was suffocating. You took a deep breath to calm, deciding to never go on outings for your parents ever again upon your return. A sea voyage for a few months sounded quite tempting. Together with your trusty crew and away from all the soul draining responsibilities. You could be free to do as you pleased without the watchful and judging eyes of society. The sound of footsteps startled you, they were restrained and light as if the owner was attempting to remain in stealth. You froze, wiping your tear stained face with your sleeves and doing your best to halt the sniffles and shivers. Hopefully whoever was walking through would notice your presence and be swiftly on there way. Yet it seemed luck was not on your side as the voice which called your name belonged to the Prince himself. You visibly stiffened but still payed him no attention. Maybe he’d get the message and go back to the other woman. You couldn’t blame her to be honest, she was beautiful and probably as kind as the spring itself. When he spoke your name again you listened this time. It was weak, feeble full of nerves unlike the confident tone he usually spoke with. It was broken. You couldn’t ignore him even if you tried and so you slowly turned to face him, although you couldn’t quite meet his eyes you could see how he towered high above you from your seat on the plush grass. Without a sound he kneels by you, taking your head in his hands; you want to pull away from him yet his touch felt so natural you could not, your eyes still averted, finding the  rippling water more so interesting instead. “(y/n), look at me.” His deep voice was soft but commanding. When you chose to ignore he repeated, with more softness, stroking under your red eyes with his thumbs. The delicate touch coaxed you into submission and your eyes finally met his again. Although his face was mostly stoic you could see the pain and guilt in his eyes. The sight had the tears welling up once again, before they could spill you were pulled into a tight embrace. Thranduil’s body was surprisingly warm, a relaxing contrast from the cool night air and water surrounding you. You were startled to say the least but more pleasantly surprised. You could feel his voice through his chest as he spoke, it was oddly comforting although he was the source of your sadness. “I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to cause harm to you. For once should not have listened to my father.” He ended with a sigh, you knew it was personal but you had to ask. “What did he say of me?” You spoke, albeit muffled, weakly. “It wasn’t personally directed at you, but you see my father is still quite traditional. He would prefer it if I were to court one of his chosen suitors, all daughters of generals and nobles. If I’m honest I find them all quite boring much too focused on trivial matters with absolutely no strive for adventure.” You laughed at this, mood lifting greatly. You realised how stressful it must be for him, as the only child of a great king. As the only heir to the woodland realm there was a huge responsibility placed upon him. It was only natural for the king to want what was best for his son. You were aware that you weren’t exactly the greatest option of a potential romance, always out being reckless on your journeys, not quite the picture of elven grace and elegance. You shrunk in his hold becoming insecure and as if he knew your thoughts he pulled away from you, gently lifting you by the chin to face him again. “That being said, he does not get to choose who I fall for. If you’ll have me, my lady (y/n) than I would be honoured to travel with you, to learn from you and to be with you.” He now averted his gaze on you, the slightest hint of anxiety in your answer hidden within him as his hand dropped. This caused a smile to break out on you, all signs of your previous upset state gone. You brought your hands to his much larger ones, clasping them tightly. “I would love that.” As you spoke his eyes widened in shock before a smile spread on his face and you were soon pulled back into his arms. Maybe your royal duties were fruitful after all.

Taglist:

@evyiione

[insufficient-earth-skills]

Númenórean symbols: golden wave symbol/triskelion on Tar-Míriel and Elendil.

Part 4 in a series on the colours of Númenór.

[insufficient-earth-skills]

Númenórean sunset-over-the-sea colours (aka our favourite Númenórean family in beige, orange and blue).

Part 3 in a series on the colours of Númenór.

[insufficient-earth-skills]

Númenórean blue and gold (sea and sand).

Part 2 in a series on the colours of Númenór.

[insufficient-earth-skills]

Númenórean colours: blue, red and gold (aka the colours of statecraft and the court of Armenelos.)

Part 6 in a series on the colours of Númenór.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bonus: the younger generation of apprentices and cadets in orange and blue.

[insufficient-earth-skills]

Númenórean blue and gold.

Part 1 in a series on the colours of Númenór.

[insufficient-earth-skills]

References to island life: Númenór, the Land of the Star.

Part 7 in a series on the colours of Númenór.

[insufficient-earth-skills]

References to island life: Númenór, the Land of the Star (pt. 2).

Part 8 in a series on the colours of Númenór.

Bonus: horse relief on the Númenóren soldiers' breast plates:

[insufficient-earth-skills]

The colours of Númenór tag is my collection of love letters to the show.

[insufficient-earth-skills]

It's been a long day without you, my friend. I'll tell you all about it when I see you again. - From the song 'See you Again' by Charlie Puth.

Day 4 - Friendship: The Númebro's AKA Valandil Mourning the loss of his best friends.

Day 4 - Gray Spaces, Friendship, Self - what relationships do you feel exist on that border between platonic and romantic. Which relationships are unrequited, or simply unfulfilled? Explore your favorite friendships, or take a second to think about a specific favorite character you have in mind and how they think about themselves, or what their own relationship might be to romantic attraction.

'Númebro's' was coined by@makalauriels.

My obsession with them was helpfully birthed by @aadmelioraa.

The song quote choice is a bit cheesy maybe but it's what I first thought of when I saw that scene of Valandil alone on the ship. WE know Isildur is alive, HE DOESN'T!!!! 😥😥

Doing the prompts for @ringsofpowervalentinesweek out of order.