#elvensong

[tathrin]

Here’s another “too short to do anything real with” snippet that popped into my head, so I’m once again sharing it with tumblr (maybe I should start a story that’s just Short Snippets In Aman and post it on AO3 that way? hmmm).

❧ When Thranduil Sailed At Last ☙

When some four thousand years of the Fourth Age of the world had passed, and Elves had faded out of the memories of Men and into their legends and stories instead; when the Dwarves who remained had buried themselves so deeply within their mountain halls that only the echoes of their singing sometimes emerged to haunt the waking world; when the forest of Eryn Lasgalen, once called Mirkwood, once called Greenwood the Great, was finally empty of all elvensong save in memory and bewitchment, and those elves who had refused the Call of the Sea and the Grace of the Valar for all time were but faded and fey whispers of what once they had been, flitting through the shadows of their trees with bewitching laughter—then, and only then, did Thranduil, the last King of the Elves, at long last cross the Sea.

He was but a shadow of himself then, for his people were all gone or faded into the greenwood, and his trees barely whispered to him now; but every league he traveled along the Straight Road restored him somewhat in face and form, as the fair light of Valinor stretched gentle fingers towards his proud and weary face.

Thranduil was not wholly pleased by this restoration, for he had spent his life standing against the Shadow of the Valar's broken promises and errant deeds without their aid—or at least, without any aid of theirs that he had taken willingly—and it would be another ten thousand years at least before he would be healed of the pains of his past enough to forgive them for all the blood they had brought to his Middle-earth. He was not wholly pleased, but he did not turn back; he had changed that much, at least, in those four thousand years of Elven Fading, and he could put aside his stubborn pride for his family's sake, if not his own. It was them he sailed to find again, and not the Valar nor their Grace. He had no wish of either, but for the sake of his kin, he would endure their blessed light.

He was the last Elf to leave the forest that had once been Greenwood the Great.

When he set foot upon the White Shores, he was greeted by one of the first.

"Mae govannen, meltha-nín."

Thranduil stood in the foam of the waves and stared at the elf-woman in front of him. She was short and slim as a sapling, with cheeks the soft brown of an oak and hair only a shade lighter. Her grey eyes were bright as sun-kissed iron and her smile was as small as a half-grown flowerbud. She was dressed in flowing robes of green in many colors, as though she walked clad in all the shades of a summertime forest. Her hair hung loose and unbound, so long that it kissed the sands under her bare brown feet. Fine silver clasped her wrists, un-bejeweled but clearly of skillful Dwarven make.

"Angmeril?" Thranduil gasped.

She laughed and spread her arms and he ran up the sands into them, crying out with joy and ancient grief as he caught her up and swung her three times through the air. Those who had known the elvenking in later days would have gaped to see him cavorting so carefree upon the shores, an untroubled laugh upon his lips and a smile altogether unconstrained across his face.

"I almost did not recognize you," he murmured, when he set her down at last.

"It has been that long?" Angmeril said archly.

"Your hair is so long," Thranduil breathed, lifting a soft brown lock with bewildered awe.

Angmeril's smile cracked wider, twisting crooked upon her face; it was the sort of smile that was kept often hidden and could only be teased-out by a rare and secret jest.

"Well," she said, "you did take a very long time to join us."

Thranduil frowned. "I am sorry—"

"I am not," she cut him off harshly. "I am not. I tried to swim back seven times, my love. Ulmo got very tired of me."

Thranduil laughed.

"Had you come even a minute before you truly wanted to leave; if I suspected even now that you had come for me rather than yourself," Angmeril cautioned him fiercely, "I would gut you even now upon these shores and you would have to wade your way back to us through the Halls of Mandos."

Thranduil beamed at her brightly enough to for a moment outshine the sun. He bent to press his lips upon her brow. "Oh my love," he breathed, "I have missed you so."

"Well, you are stuck here until the ending of the world now, like the rest of us," she retorted, "so we shall have plenty of time to make-up for our lost years now."

"True," said Thranduil, and they set off arm-in-arm across the grass. Thranduil kept sneaking glances at the elf-woman at his side, as though he could not believe the truth of his own eyes. She caught him looking and raised her eyebrows in a wry, silent question. "Ah, my iron-flower," he explained, "I still cannot help but marvel at your hair!"

"As I said," Angmeril replied coyly, "you took a long time to join us. I did not want to cut it again without you here."

"Ah," said Thranduil, and a crooked smile to match his wife's teased its way across his face.

"You enjoyed witnessing the reactions so much the last time, after all," Angmeril teased. "And that was a grim army in the midst of a terrible siege. How much more shocked and outraged will all these fine Lords and Ladies be, here in fair and peaceful Aman where they say no ills or hurts can ever find us?"

Thranduil's laugh rang out loud and long across the dunes. "Oh," he said again, "I have missed you so."

They smiled together, the onetime Queen and King of Mirkwood, and walked forward together into forever, whether the rest of the dwellers of Aman were ready for them there or no.

{ read more of my lotr fic on AO3 here }

p.s. please feel free to reblog if you liked the fic. I know a lot of folks are new to tumblr right now, but trust me: that’s not just an acceptable thing to do on this site, but a lovely one. Whenever you see a post you like, consider reblogging it to share it with more people.

[thelordofgifs]

Congrats on 300 followers! 🎉

For the foc prompt, if you have the time and leisure for it: Anything with Turgon? (I know I'm being super predictable here but I love him so much) Maybe a snippet of how you see his and Idril's relationship, if you're up to it, or anything like that!

- finnritter

@finnritter thank you and of course!

Finrod was singing again. Turgon did not know where he found the strength, with the bitter wind stealing his breath and the icicles forming on his lashes. But he should not begrudge it; not when others lifted up their voices to join him, and the Ice rang for a few moments with the clear silver beauty of elvensong.

"My turn," he said quietly to Elenwë, under cover of the music, and wordlessly she passed him their daughter.

Idril had been sleeping, but she stirred and yawned as Turgon settled her on his shoulders. "Hello, Atya," she said drowsily.

"Hello, Itaril," Turgon said. "You can go back to sleep, if you like. It will be a while before the next rest."

"I am not sleepy," said Idril; he could feel her shifting in her perch, tugging slightly at his hair as she sat up straight to look around her. Although there were none in the host who would ever object to carrying its littlest member, Idril tended to favour her father's shoulders; from his great height she could see much further than from anyone else's.

"Do you know this song?" Turgon asked her, once the music had reached its swelling peak. "Perhaps you can ask your uncle Ingoldo to teach it to you, if not."

"That would be nice," said Idril, "but the next time we stop for a rest, aunt Írissë is going to show me how to gut a seal. So it will have to be after."

Turgon glanced to his side, but Elenwë, relieved of Idril's weight, had dropped back to cajole along the stragglers. A thankless task – there were none who had lost their zeal for the march who had not eventually sat down to die in the cold – but nonetheless a necessary one, if they were to remember yet that they were civilised.

Speaking of which—

"That sounds unpleasant," he said. "Are you sure you would not rather learn some music?"

"Hmm," said Idril, thinking. "No."

"Or," said Turgon, unwilling to argue but also not ready to give up the point entirely, "your Haru might like to tell you some stories—"

"Haru's stories aren't that good," Idril said, with childlike bluntness. "He's sad all the time. And they're always about the Great Journey." This last was said with an unmistakeable note of derision.

As a child Turgon had loved his father's stories, had sat for hours at his feet as he had woven tales of lovers parted forever in the woods of Middle-earth and children who met strange fae spirits in the train of Oromë under the starlight. He supposed the rather tame perils of those stories would not prove very diverting to a child of the Helcaraxë.

"All right," he said. "Now, it will still be a while before we can meet up with aunt Írissë again." Aredhel and Fingon both preferred to take out hunting-parties ahead of the march of the main host; Turgon had not seen them since the last scheduled rest, some two days ago. He had no proof that they were still alive, but there was no use sharing that fear with Idril. So far, they had always come back. "Shall we play a walking-game until then?"

"Yes!" said Idril; but before Turgon could suggest that they try to identify the constellations, or see who could count backwards from five hundred the fastest, she added, "Let's name all the Disappeared. Uncle Finno says there are more than a thousand now."

If he had eaten in the past day, Turgon's stomach would have lurched. Instead, after a moment, he acquiesced. What was one more small defeat?

[mogai-sunflowers]

elvensonglexic!

elvensonglexic-

a gender that is/is related to the word ‘elvensong’!

[Image ID: A flag with eleven equally-sized horizontal stripes. From top to bottom, the colors are pastel magenta, white, pastel cyan, mint green, medium yellow, medium brown, medium yellow, mint green, pastel cyan, white, and pastel magenta. In the center of the flag, there is a medium brown rectangular bow with a vertical pole of the same color through its center. End ID.]

term and flag by me, requested by @ithriel-coins​​ ! tagging @radiomogai​​ :3

[lyrics365]

Pathfinders

[Music & Lyrics: Aydan] Stand before the new born kind There is a song, taken far by the winds A rhyme of poets, a melody Wrapped in a dream The elvensong has gone, to another realm Stand before the new born kind As young and fresh as the Spring in bloom The song is telling stories Every little is a gain Tells of joy, it tells of pain Pathfinders…searching for new scents We are…

[thewomanofrevelation]

amethystium, elvensong [x]

[voiceofnature]

Elvensong

[linestyleartwork]

Another Work In Progress...😊 This time for an animated musicvideo for the song "Dream2U" by the extraordinary talented Shanna Liebl aka Shayariel BlissfulCure Follow me on: Web:  www.linestyle-artwork.de Instagram:  https://lnkd.in/ghftDBb Artstation: https://lnkd.in/deUDYuM Facebook:  https://lnkd.in/d6tCzbX Twitter:  https://lnkd.in/dFergs9 Deviantart:  https://lnkd.in/dxpHJrZ Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.de/Anna_Jaeger_Hauer

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Cob houses are usually kind of rustic or look like little pueblo’s, but it takes the French to make an elegant one, like Elvensong. First, they made it a pale green and added a swirled design to the exterior.

They also gave it French doors and beautiful pane glass windows.

The walls are white with antiqued appliques. 

This is elegant. 

Even the bath is light, bright and as cheery as the rest of the home.

I have to say, the French can really build a pretty cob house.

https://www.canopyandstars.co.uk/

[tolkienrsb]

Happy Friday, folks!  Today we bring you a lovely TRSB writer, Aussie_Lass.

Hi, I'm Aussie_Lass but I also go by Aussie. I wrote a little fanfiction a long time ago. I've had a lot of time to be online because of covid and binge watched the trilogy and all of the hobbit and I thought I'd try writing again. 

I'm writing for TRSB2020. Lucky for me by the time I decided I would try to claim a piece one of the ones I really liked was still available! I can't art so I loved getting to see all of the great art everyone made!

A Tale of Two Lords - Aussie_Lass

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was a hidden city, it was known but unseen, it was a time on the edge of a knife, and everyone fell. Glorfindel was not always so beloved, nor Erestor so wise. A slice of life story about the House of the Golden Flower in Gondolin, with the aftermath in Imladris."

This is an NC17 story about Glorfindel and Erestor in Gondolin. The story has slavery in it and character death and slash.  I wrote it for Elvensong for the 2006 Slashy Santa. I guess I was inspired by all of the great Glorfindel and Erestor stories I was reading at the time. I'm pretty proud of it because it was nominated for an award and it's the longest fanfiction I've written. 

Top creative tips/words of wisdom for fellow participants:  Um, maybe I should get some of those myself? I guess relax and have fun? I was nervous at first, but my artist is really nice, and it's nice to write again.

***

Friendly mod reminder...if you liked a creator’s work, show them some love by commenting, kudos-ing, or reblogging! ;) <3

[veyot]

At Lake Hector, this tower was new since I had been there last. It’s a 4096 rental plot, Elvensong Gardens. You walk in at the road level, where there is a wishing tower with all wishes granted. I wished for everything, so that I could see all the particle effects. A path leads to a waterfall, a pool and finally to a tower on top with a good view of the Lake. I kept looking over my shoulder for a dark haired Asian woman, because I had just read Slexplorer’s latest chapter of her mystery.

[mogai-sunflowers]

unofficial word lexegender requests ! (there's a lot, so please take your time, or choose only a few to do :3)

sunland, sunstar, sunglow, sunsong, sunsky, sunchild, aurorasun, nightsun, sunmage, sunscape, sunstory, wondersun, sunmuse

elvenland, elvenstar, elvenglow, elvensong, elvensky, elfchild, elvennight, elvenmage, elvensun, elvenstory, elvenwonder, elvenmuse

eternalland, eternalstar, eternalglow, eternalsong, eternallight, eternalsky, eternalchild, eternalmore, eternalflame, eternaldawn, eternaldusk

oceanland, oceanstar, oceanglow, oceansong, oceansky, oceanchild, oceanmage, oceansun, oceanmuse, oceanstory, oceanscape

WOOOOOOOOOOOOO BABY!!!!!!!!!! THEY'VE ALL BEEN QUEUED!!! this was such a fun request, but prepare for your notifs to be spammed the next week and a half lmao /lh

[viksler]

Вот мои следующие дредики. •Количество:50шт

•Длина:60см~

•Вес:260 гр без учета украшений

•Фактуры: крючковые де-дреды,разнофактурные косы,гофро

•Украшен бусинами-черепами от Дредобусины от ElvenSong and BraidWay , опаловыми бусинами, камнями и блестящей обмоткой

•Материал:Kami-Kami

Мастер Вероника MINTDREADS

[scribblessims]

And at The Fishery, the tree is still burning. It’s like the one the Elvensongs had long ago... by which I mean three installs and two computers ago, in like 2010. 

[fuckyeahextrememetal]

“Det som en gang var” Burzum

“Between the bushes we stared At those who reminded us of another age And told that hope was away Forever... We heard elvensong and Water that trickled What once was is now Away All the blood... All the longing and pain that Ruled Are away... Forever... We are not dead... We have never lived”