#elvish love

[windemere-wicklow]

[marbobar]

what did mrinthyr think of kar’niss when they met him ? do your two little guys get along …

Mrinthyr is pretty ah…open minded :)

Astarion not so much

[telanadasvhenan]

Soap opera on the left, Davrin fanboying on the right

[tanoraqui]

I’m not personally a headcanonner of Maglor living in Rivendell in LotR under a new name, but if he is, I adamantly believe that he is not Lindir (“song guy”) but rather Erestor (tentatively glossed “lonely brother.”) Tragic humor or bust!

[bethanynightfall]

Whispers in the breeze, elvish hearts with nature speak, harmony glows in graceful trees.

[judegreenleaf]

Thranduil's bitch mood of the day

[tathrin]

I was thinking about the weirdness of LaCE and the whole sex=soul-marriage thing again (as you do) and a thought struck me:

what if the way it works in cases of assault (or is believed to work by the elves; in this case it doesn't matter if it's actually what happens of just what they think) is that you don't end up with a full-on bond, no, but you do get bits of connection, like hooks stuck in your soul from the other person(s)?

And—if we run with the worst interpretation of the Celebrían situation—what if that's what motivates Elladan and Elrohir to be so determined to hunt down every single orc in Middle-earth?

If Celebrían left because she couldn't bear the feeling or thought or those orc-hooks in her soul (or the ptsd flashbacks and trauma that made it easy to assume the stories were true, and that's what was happening to cause her misery) and hoped that crossing the Sundering Sea would cut them off, or at least blunt them and let the scars heal...

Well, the twins know that you can't really sail back, of course they do. They know!

But Glorfindel did. And a whole host of elves came once, during the War of Wrath. So it's not that nobody has, ever. (They can look up and see their grandfather sailing in the sky every night, out of the Undying Lands. Maybe somebody could hitch a ride...?)

If they can make Middle-earth safe for her again...well, maybe she won't come home. But at least then she could, if a chance ever came to leave and cross the Sea again. She could.

And even if she doesn't, at least when they Sail*, they can tell her that they slew her nightmares, finally.

And maybe that will be enough.

[starleska]

Ramón Salazar is so funny because no matter what version you're looking at if you say 'he's twenty' everyone goes 'he's WHAT'

[yunnd3]

my king

[everythingquenya]

"Just A Man" from Epic the Musical by Jorge Rivera-Herrans

This song made me think of when Maglor and Maedhros found Elrond and Elros after the 3rd kinslaying in the first age. Of course I had to then translate it. I split the lyrics up a bit, so they both had lines. (Also left out the chorus in the transcriptions)

[MAGLOR:]

Céninye mi henilta ar inye

Nansanea ana i yónion

Nárille airave nélesse yá elestienye rá ohta

[MAEDHROS:]

Nwaluva si cari ainya

Ilya námo anahtienye?

Ná i mirma nwalinye oio malie?

[MAGLOR:]

Sáce henilta ar rehtea elto i ehten

Manen polin nahteanye le?

[MAEDHROS:]

Nánye rie elda man néve lenna mélamar

Apa illí loastar au hóta istienye

Nánye rie elda man mahtea rá coirya

[MAGLOR:]

Lún undu mérenye manca i ilu cen inya yón ar indis

Nánye rie elda

[MAEDHROS:]

Apa yá cáre él olea lantel?

Yá lícuma olea ruine?

Yá elda olea úvano?

[MAGLOR:]

Yá ulo olea vangwe?

Yá casta olea cáma?

Yá elda olea úvano?

[MAEDHROS & MAGLOR:]

(Yá cáre él olea lantel?)

(Yá lícuma olea ruine?) Avatyar nin

(Yá elda olea úvano?) Avatyar nin

(Yá elda olea úvano?) Avatyar nin

[oblivious-flesh]

headcannon that gale can't fuckin roll his r's. I have no basis for this claim, it just feels Correct. Like imagine tav speaks literally anything but common and they have either rolled r's or like a soft r or throaty(?) r and they try to teach him. He's great at picking up vocab and grammar and such, but his pronunciation is actually terrible. I just think it's cute I love him sm

[lordofthemushrooms]

Having the DA elvish language page up on my phone 24/7 for totally normal reasons (crafting sentences for my inquisitor to say to Solas in my free time)

[nychthemeron-rants]

Controversial take, but I can see Marcille being bi

[captainderyn]

[Fictober24] Day 2: "It's been a long time."

Prompt: "It's been a long time."

Fandom: LOTRO

Pairings: Wulfwryn/Raenor

Warnings: None

Summary: A young Faewryn spins tales of the Dunedain, playing pretend in a grand adventure. Along the way she learns of old friends of Raenor and Wulfwryn.

Translations:

Telellë: little elf Ada: dad henig: my child emil: mother

----

Tales of the Dunedain were fraught with danger, adventure, and feats that defied what seemed possible. The stories swirled vividly in Faewryn’s mind, spun by the skillful voice of Aragorn to a rapt Eldarion and her the afternoon prior. Both her ada and mother had told her bedtime stories of rangers as well, and she knew the songs her ada sang of them by heart. 

This afternoon she was not Faewryn, the Gondorian half-elf, but one of the Dunedain, proud and tall, forging through distant lands, searching for a foul creature that threatened all of Man. The stone around her did not make up the walls of her family home in Minas Tirith; it was a forgotten hideout in the deep woods. Within her hideout she peeked through the windows—watching for the signal that marked a sighting of her mark. 

There! A bird call. That was the signal, she had to move now! 

Faewryn scrambled down from her perch by the window, scanning the room for her supplies. She snatched her wooden sword in its cloth sheath from the doorway of her bedroom as well as the dark brown throw blanket from the foot of her bed. Slinging the blanket around her shoulders, she tied it in a fumbling knot, only for it to come undone and fall around her feet as soon as she moved. 

That wouldn’t do, it wouldn’t do at all. She had to make haste! The Enemy could escape at any time. 

The bird call sounded again, more urgent this time, and Faewryn gasped. She hurried into her parents room, tugging along the small stool from the corner of her own bedroom. 

Using the stool, she stepped onto it and reached for an ornate wooden box sitting on the dresser. Her mother had taken it down several times for her to sort through the broaches and cloak pins, and if there was something she needed urgently now it was a pin. 

Her mother had always cautioned her not to prick her fingers on the sharp edges, but she’d never cautioned Faewryn about using one at all…

A shining cloak pin caught her attention and she picked it up, balancing it in her palms. It was a black broach emblazoned with a six-pointed white star. It reminded Faewryn of her mother’s daily uniform—the colors matched and the star echoed the ones that surrounded the White Tree on all the banners around the city. 

She let the box drop closed and hopped off her step stool, running back to her discarded cloak. Once more the bird all sounded and she fumbled with the pin. 

“I’m coming!” she called, finally getting the clasp to snap. With that she ran for the door, shoving it open with a grunt. Just to slam into a veritable wall of heavy fabric. 

The Enemy was here!

With a great battle shout, Faewryn freed herself of the Enemy’s clutches, shaking the cloth sheath off of her sword after wild waving it about and taking up her stance for battle. 

“Come no further, Enemy!” she cried, brandishing her sword. 

Her mother rocked back on her heels before an amused glint flashed through her eyes. 

“Telellë, you have caught me unarmed!” Wulfwryn exclaimed. 

Faewryn grinned, gesturing broadly with her sword. “Surrender, you can’t win!” 

Wulfwryn gave a beaten sigh, lifting her shoulders up and down dramatically with the motion. “So it would seem…” She said before smiling. “But you’ve underestimated me, warrior!” 

Before Faewryn had the chance to react she was scooped off her feet and hoisted over Wulfwryn’s shoulder. She squirmed but couldn’t free herself and her sword clattered out of her hands. 

“Ada!” She howled, tossing herself around. “Ada, I’ve been captured!” 

Wulfwryn grunted, letting Faewryn down. 

”You’re getting big, henig, I won’t be able to capture you much longer.” she said. 

Faewryn scampered over to her ada, who appeared around the corner. Raenor ran his fingers through her hair as she melted into a hug. She glowered at up at him from beneath furrowed brows. 

“Your warning call didn’t say the enemy was right there.” 

Raenor tossed his free hand up in an oh dear gesture. “Ach! I was never made for scouting. You fight bravely though, henig.” 

Wulfwryn eased herself into a crouch, waving Faewryn over, “What’s the broach you’ve chosen today? Let me see.” 

Faewryn protested when Wulfwryn went to unclip it, tugging her ‘cloak’ more tightly around herself, so she leaned closer to inspect it instead. Her lips pressed together in a wistful smile as she ran her fingers over the six pointed star. 

“Ah, have I ever told you of the story behind this one?” she asked. 

Faewryn shook her head but pointed to the embroidery on Wulfwryn’s overcoat, “No, but I thought it looked like yours, emil.” 

Wulfwryn pushed herself out to her feet, holding out her hand to Faewryn. “Would you like to hear the story?” She asked. 

Grabbing her hand, Faewryn held out her other hand for her father. Raenor fell into step alongside her, holding her hand even as they had to bend and stretch to go single file though the door. 

“Of course I want to hear it!” Faewryn exclaimed, clambering onto her mother’s lap as Wulfwryn pulled out one of the chairs at the table. 

Wulfwryn wrapped her arms around Faewryn, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Raenor settled in on their other side, leaning his forearms onto the tabletop. 

“That star is that of the Dunedain.” Wulfwryn started, tapping her finger against the cloak clasp. “This one in particular came from a group known as the Grey Company.” 

Faewryn looked down at the broach, mouthing the name to etch it into her memory, “Did you travel with them, emil?” 

“Ay, both your ada and I traveled alongside them for quite a time, through Dunland and times before. It’s been…I’m not sure I can put a count on how many years ago that was.” 

“It’s been a long time.” Raenor agreed. “It is a great honor to receive one such star, and I’m ashamed to admit my own was lost to a place dark and foul during our travels.” 

Faewryn ran her fingers over the indentations of the engravings, eyes wide. 

“Does that mean you’re Rangers?” she asked in awe. 

Wulfwryn laughed, “No, alas, we were simply honored with a token of their kind.” 

A sorrowful look crossed her face and Faewryn shimmied closer, wrapping her arms around her mother’s shoulders. Wulfwryn held her close, deep in thought for a long moment. 

“They were very, very good people.” she finally said. “Would you like to hear some more stories?”  

[labotor11]

Remora d'Amaronis ✦ Satyr ✦ Charlatan ✦ Great Old One Warlock (Beholder Patron)

A fluffy-eared woman who revels in theatrics, Remora left her former life and responsibilities behind upon encountering her enigmatic patron – a whimsically cheerful Beholder with an insatiable appetite for magical relics. Her days are spent assuming the role of a scholarly wizard, worming herself into unsuspecting adventuring parties in pursuit of her patron's coveted treasures. It's only after the group achieves its quest that she drops her facade, gleefully skipping away with their hard-earned spoils.

don't mind me just showing off ;_; somehow the pink eldritch blast took the longest to figure out

[vexx-the-egg]

"Kabaru has no special intrest" WRONG. Kabaru regularly Binge watches The Batchlor while making highly informative graphics on all the drama, relationships, and seasonal changes. And then he spends 4 hours talking to his freinds about it under the guise of being "a bit of a romantic"