#ga1adriel

[mvndrvke]

@ga1adriel gets a starter! ft. celeborn

Celeborn is no stranger to nightmares. He has moved into Galadriel's rooms again, finding normalcy in the way he and his wife orbit around each other in harmony when everything else feels so unsteady. He is calmer with her around. It's easier to close his eyes in sleep when her hand is gently holding his.

He's unable to find sleep on this particular night, though he'd tried his best to beside his wife. He's careful not to wake her, shifting into a sitting position and taking his journal and charcoal from the nightstand. The pale light of the moon shines through the open balcony doors, and it is enough for him to use to write by along with the little orb of star-glass hanging beside the bed.

He balances his journal on his legs, humming softly to himself as he works on a new melody. The hand not holding the charcoal brushes absentmindedly through Galadriel's hair as she sleeps beside him.

He glances at her after some time, and finds her eyes open and looking up at him. He smiles softly at her. "How long have you been awake?"

[celeborn-of-doriath]

C l o s e d for @ga1adriel

A HAZE OF POLLEN HUNG IN THE SUN LIKE POWDERED GOLD and there was nothing else at all in that high world where leaves rode over his face like veils, their veins framing green where the light shone against them. The summer rains had brought up the grasses and      the wild flowers ran in a riot of colors     as far as the eye could see. In the deep glens of Doriath's forests dwelt some primordial sense that hummed of mystery and music so that he felt he could nearly hear the resonance of the universe at its creation.

In Menegroth his servants would plait his hair and adorn it with      obsidian beads,     dress him in robes layered one upon the other until the myriad tissue-fine silks at his throat bled an ombre like fog traced into the velveteen indigo of nightfall.      PRINCE OF DORIATH ー he would sit in his king's hall and cast his judgments, raise armies, apportion blame and absolve it, and every moment he would long to be here, racing through the treetops, where every branch knew the weight of his foot.

These trees had known him since his birth, and he them. A thousand upon a thousand times he had launched himself through this canopy with all the confidence of a man who had known these paths before even the first rising of the sun and would know them still at the last. But the flash of light which caught his eye had come from below, sparking and glittering like a hot coal in a copper brazier, and the next thing he knew was air and the      SUDDEN SENSATION OF PLUNGING DOWNWARD.

The next sensation was a good deal     less pleasant,      for the Prince of the Sindar collided solidly with a branch, which tossed him quite rudely to another, and then he was spinning, scratching for purchase, and wondering what Thingol would say at his funeral. He would never know if it was the tree who saved him or he who managed to save himself, but whatever the case, he at last gripped a branch with enough force to nearly pull his arm from its socket and      UNCEREMONIOUSLY HIT THE GROUND.

It would have been a splendid thing had he managed to look even half the prince that he was, but dressed only in simple gray, having made a decidedly inelegant entrance, with only the liquid moonlight of his long silver hair to mark him as royalty, he could only mouth wordlessly at the Noldorin maiden dancing in the field of flowers before him. ( Very well ー it was not only because she was startlingly beautiful that he could not speak, but also because he had knocked the wind out of himself in his tumble. )

ー She    G L O W E D.

Not only her hair, but     all of her.      He had seen Noldor before of course, when Finrod Felagund and his sister had come to live in Doriath... or perhaps this was the sister. He found himself wishing he had paid more attention to matters of state and less to weapons and war.

❝ You... ❞     he jabbed a finger in her direction as if he were singling out a soldier, but then retracted the offending digit upon realization that one probably ought not point at a lady in such a manner,     ❝ ...are you aware that you glow? ❞     He managed to croak, still half-starved for air, and then doubled over to unleash a string of profanities of the absolute lowest degree, wrought in obscenity with as much artistry as any jewelsmith might treat gold or any mason his marble. With a hiss of pain, he collapsed back into the flowers, every limb aching, and closed his eyes, hoping that when next he opened them he might find she had      MERELY BEEN A FIGMENT OF HIS IMAGINATION.

[celebqinga]

@ga1adriel asked: "The closer they come, the further we drift."

Arondir   stood   silent,   the   weight   of   Galadriel's   words   settling   over   him   like   a   heavy   mist.   His   gaze,   sharp   and   unwavering,   lingered   on   her   eyes,   searching   for   any   trace   of   hesitation   behind   her   resolute   expression.   Eyes   linger   on   the   ring   she   bears   and   then   to   the   stars   above   them.

The   breeze   carried   the   scent   of   pine   and   damp   earth,   but   even   nature's   music   seemed   distant   now,   as   if   the   world   itself   had   paused   to   listen.   He   drew   in   a   slow   breath,   his   hands   resting   lightly   on   the   hilt   of   his   bow.   "We   are   bound   to   defend   these   lands,"   he   replied,   his   voice   low   and   steady,   like   the   river   that   refused   to   be   stopped   by   stone.   "Bound   to   sacrifice.   As   long   as   we   drift   closer   to   those   who   neeed   protection."

He   had   failed   in   his   task   once,   Mordor   stood   on   the   failures   of   his   guardianship,   a   shadow   of   vulnerability   flickered   in   his   emerald   eyes.   "If   distance   is   the   price   of   their   safety,"   he   continued,   "How   do   we   bridge   what   is   lost   in   the   fight   to   save   them?"

The   silence   stretched   between   them,   filled   with   unsaid   words   and   the   shared   burden   of   warriors   who   fought,   not   only   against   enemies   but   against   the   growing   chasm   between   heart   and   duty.

[lrdfthr]

@ga1adriel asked: It is easier to start a war than to end it.

𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄. 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐔𝐏𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 . of having to put yet more of his children to rest ... the thought , itself , was excruciating .

a stone slid along a blade , absently sharpening its edges . the sound , almost deafening , brought his attention back to the matter . 𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐋 had not been chained to the chair this time and the camp had been empty , 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 .

lips pressed tightly together , he thought of a response . dark was his gaze , the colour of a stormy sea rimmed with a ring of raven darkness . intense ... haunted ...

it is then that he agreed that those words that had rendered him speechless previously weighed just as wearily upon 𝐇𝐄𝐑 shoulders as they did his .

❛ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐞 . 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭 ... 𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 ... 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐲 . ❜ he closed his eyes , the faintest knowing grin adorned scarred features . ❛ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 . ❜

[oakthcrn]

𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐄, 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐄, 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒

accepting @ga1adriel

𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐉𝐀𝐖 𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃. She was going into the lion's den, and she felt Galadriel's eyes on her. Her King needed eyes in Mordor, and Lark was skilled enough to remain hidden. Still, there was brewing dread within her. This new land…land of evil and smog. Lark could very well be going to her death. Still, she will march, her king demands it. 

❝ 𝐘𝐞𝐬…𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰. 𝐈𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐨𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬. 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬…❞ She frowned and looked to Galadriel. 

❝ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐲𝐞𝐬? 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐈'𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞. ❞ 

[uruuk]

"A CORRUPTED AND IGNOBLE RACE, WORTHY ONLY TO BE HUNTED AND SLAUGHTERED." "YOUR KIND WAS A MISTAKE. MADE IN MOCKERY. AND EVEN IF IT TAKES ME ALL OF THIS AGE, I VOW TO ERRADICATE EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU". layered voices whisper in his mind, replaying themselves. STILL ECHOING, WHEN HE COMES BACK TO HIMSELF WITH INHALE. "THEY'RE NOT CHILDREN, THEY ARE SLAVES." such a different song than she sings to him now. fire diminished to almost tired defeat, that she gathers with unshed dignity, and allows it to harden her once more. AND YET DESPITE HAVING GIVEN HER SUCH A SIMILAR LOOK AS HE REMEMBERS GIVING TO SAURON LONG AGO, HE CANNOT BLAME HER. NOT KNOWING WHAT HE DOES NOW. even then she had been consumed by that same desire, when little did she know he was playing her for a fool.

EVEN WHEN SHE INSISTS ON HIS OWN DESIRE, THE LOOK HE GIVES HER WHEN LIPS RE-FORM LINE IS ONE OF PITY. one that lacks harshness, with welling wetness deepening the almost curve of his lips and narrow of brows in a wistful smile. unable to rid his thoughts of times of which he'd adored mairon, and where he truly believed he adored him in turn. KNOWS THE SAME KIND TOUCH, AND THE SAME PROMISE OF BEING AT HIS SIDE. FOR SHE IS BEGINNING TO SEE. beginning to look at him, as if he knew that same part of herself she dared not acknowledge. THAT HER BLOOD RUNS WITH THE SAME VENOM AS HE WAS BID TO CARRY.

BIRD IS KEPT IN A CAGE IN FEAR SHE WILL NOT ACCEPT HIS TERMS. THAT SHE WOULD FLEE FROM HIM, AND ALL OF THIS WOULD BE A BITTERSWEET DREAM. harbouring violence and force bred within his veins. TWO HOLLOW VESSELS CRYING OUT FOR VENGEANCE. FOR THEY SHARE THE SAME NEEDS. CONSUMED, BY THEM. however, he's long since forsook fighting in his own name. BUT FOR THOSE OF WHOM HE LOVES, he must finish this.

"yes." he exhales, deeply. shamefully, albeit. "i wanted it." HE ADMITTED WITH A WHISPER OF A BREATH. "our kind, at that time, having never known a word for death . . . and yet, i found myself to be facing it." HIS WELLING EYES FLICKER. did i not deserve to be free? WHAT CHOICE DID HE HAVE? BETWEEN LIFE, AND THAT WHICH HE COULD NOT CONTEMPLATE? he breathes out, suddenly hardening. looking away from her.

THERE'S A LONG PAUSE. he was the only one of thirteen. THE ONLY ONE TO SURVIVE THEIR REBIRTH.

"i thought i had done so, once." HE CONTINUES. standing, as he looks down at her. LUMBERING FORTH TOWARD LOCK HE CLANKS IT FROM WHERE IT LAY AND PROCURES A KEY FROM SOMEWHERE HIDDEN. "though i intend to do so again. this time, with your help." he unlocks the cage, pulling the door away and offering an outstretched hand. "come, alatáriel. if you truly speak with intention." a pause, as he blinks in earnest. "as i did, when i told you that a star shines on the hour of our meeting."

:  ̗̀➛  *ೃ༄  SHE FEELS LIKE AN ANIMAL WITH THESE CONFINES ; and in truth she supposes she is one. one that is given the freedom of movement and sight. no chains shackle her wrists, no steel at her throat to hold her down. but they both know that it is something else which keeps her held tightly within his grip. galadriel's tongue flickers at her raw and bloodied lips , her own ichor the only susinance she allows - and she is greedy for the metallic salty tang it offers beneath her tongue. her eyes close as it paints the inside of her mouth, running between teeth and gums as she looks back to him through the darkness, his voice settling upon her.

there is a beauty there, she thinks. in a ruining of purity there is creation also, buried deep and wrapped carefully within the layers of her own disgust. exhaustion pours over her again like a warm blanket - her mind swimming as she inhales sharply to seek out the night air that brings her back and inside of her own body once more.

beyond her sight, his children scurry around the periphery of her senses - outside of the tent but afraid to step inside. perhaps they, in all of their waste and discomfort, can sense the shift of power within. she has ended so many of them on her blade , finrod's dagger the cause of so much dark bloodshed over the centuries. black slick tainting the gold and silver forged in the bright and unrelenting glory of the two trees. but it is no more, poured into the ring long gone - no longer insistant and hot against her finger.

❛   ...you wanted it.  ❜  galadriel's words feel tainted, foreign against the dry lining of her mouth as it opens to speak, another deeper feeling spilling forth. she is not a creature built from despair and yet the darkness that has taken root in her very fea quickens, greedy and alien - seeking to fill her up with it's venom. had she wanted this ?  had either of them truly wanted to take sucker from the poison that was offered ? yet they had - and all that was left was the empty pitted feeling of his absence.

but there was no other choice. NO OTHER WAY IT COULD HAVE BEEN. she had wanted it to, wanted to believe in the power sauron had offered her was TRUE - with a based need that was so primal it cut her to the quick to consider now. perhaps she is animal. perhaps there is nothing more to either of them.

❛   there is no shame in it. the desire for more than you can imagine, more than you deserve. i wanted so much and now i am left with nothing more than the need to see him destroyed.   ❜  knuckles tighten at the bars of her cage. the prison HE has placed her within. her torment and peace colliding as she leans forward closer to where adar crouches with eyes wide open - the tempest within them rough and swirling as she growls outloud, exposing herself.

❛   let me end him. i will bury him within the earth he craves dominion over. i will silence his voice in our heads - only your children will remain.   ❜ 

[infernonetwork]

𝔗𝔥𝔢  𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡  𝔞𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡  𝔥𝔦𝔪  𝔦𝔰  𝔰𝔬𝔣𝔱  𝔞𝔫𝔡  𝔤𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔫,  like  a  memory  pulled  from  the  depths  of  a  quiet  stream.  The  sky  is  bright,  untouched  by  shadow,  and  a  gentle  breeze  carries  the  scent  of  blossoms  and  fresh  grass.  Smeagol  stands  there,  barefoot,  his  hands  clean  of  filth,  his  face  lit  with  something  that  could  almost  be  called  peace.  He  blinks,  wide-eyed,  as  though  startled  to  find  himself  in  such  a  place.

“Where...  where  is  this?”  he  whispers,  his  voice  trembling,  soft  and  lilting  as  it  once  was.  He  looks  down  at  his  hands,  turning  them  over  slowly,  marveling  at  their  cleanness.

His  gaze  lifts,  and  he  sees  her—a  figure  of  light  and  grace,  her  form  as  if  framed  by  the  trees,  her  eyes  felt  like  twin  stars  piercing  his  fragile  soul.  He  takes  a  step  back,  instinctively  curling  in  on  himself,  but  then  something  stays  his  feet.  Some  memory  of  her  kindness,  or  perhaps  a  longing  for  something  he  cannot  name.   

“Lady...”  he  stammers,  his  voice  catching  in  his  throat.  “We—I—Smeagol...  knows  you,  doesn’t  he?”  He  takes  a  hesitant  step  forward,  his  movements  halting,  as  though  afraid  she  might  vanish  like  smoke.  “Dreaming,  yesss,  it  must  be  dreaming.  Smeagol  doesn’t  belong  in  places  like  this.  No,  no,  not  anymore.” 

But  he  lingers,  his  watery  eyes  fixed  on  her,  as  though  clinging  to  her  presence  with  the  desperation  of  a  drowning  man  reaching  for  a  distant  shore.  “Pretty  lady,”  he  murmurs,  his  tone  softening  into  something  almost  childlike,  almost  whole.  “Smeagol  was  good  once.  Oh  yesss,  we  were  good.  Before...  before  the  dark.  Do  you  remember?  Could  you...  could  you  make  us  good  again?”   

His  hands  stretch  out  toward  her,  trembling,  as  though  the  answer  might  be  within  her  reach.  “Please,”  he  whispers,  his  voice  cracking,  “just  for  a  little  while...  make  the  dark  go  away.”  

a closed plotted starter for @ga1adriel

[putrid-tongue]

BODY LANGUAGE edition

bold/italicize whichever applies! repost if you wish to use. i have put the unedited version beneath a 'read more' cut, so you do not have to edit it. feel free to adjust / add && edit as you see fit!

DEFENSIVENESS:  arms  crossed  on  chest  //  crossing  legs  //  fist-like  gestures  //  pointing  index  finger  //  karate  chops  //  stiffening  of  shoulders  //  tense  posture  //  curling  of  lip/baring  of  teeth

REFLECTIVE:  hand-to-face  gestures  //  head  tilted  //  stroking  chin  //  peering  over  glasses  //  taking  glasses  off  —  cleaning  //  putting  earpiece  of  glasses  in  mouth  //  pipe  smoker  gestures  //putting  hand  to  the  bridge  of  the  nose  //  pursed  lips  //  knitted  brows  //  staring  off  into  distance

SUSPICION:  arms  crossed  //  sideways  glance  //  touching  or  rubbing  nose  //  rubbing  eyes  //  hands  resting  on  weapon  //  brows  raising  //  lips  pressing  into  a  thin  line  //  strict,  unwavering  eye  contact  //  wrinkling  of  nose

OPENNESS  &  COOPERATION: open  hands  //  upper  body  in  sprinters  position  //  sitting  on  the  edge  of  a  chair  //  hand-to-face  gestures  //  unbuttoned  coat  //  tilted  head  //  slacked  shoulders  //  droopy  posture  //feet  pointed  outward  //  palms  flat  and  facing  outward

CONFIDENCE:  hands  behind  back  //  hands  on  lapels  of  coat  //  steepled  hands  //  baring  teeth  in  a  grin  //rolling  shoulders  //  tipping  head  back  but  maintaining  eye  contact  //  chest  puffed  up/shoulders  back  //  arms  folded  just  above  navel

INSECURITY  &  ANXIETY:  chewing  pen  or  pencil  //  rubbing  thumb  over  opposite  thumb  //  biting  fingernails  //  hands  in  pockets  //  elbow  bent/closed  gestures  //  clearing  throat  //  “whew”  sound  //  picking  or  pinching  flesh  //  fidgeting  in  chair  //  hand  covering  mouth  whilst  speaking  //  poor  eye  contact  //  tugging  at  pants  whilst  seated  //  jingling  money  in  pockets  //  tugging  at  ear  //  perspiring  hands  //  playing  with  hair  //  swaying  //  playing  with  pointer/marker  //  smacking  lips  //  sighing  //  rocking  on  balls  of  feet  //  flexing  fingers  sporadically

FRUSTRATION:  short  breaths  //  “tsk”  sounds  //  tightly-clenched  hands  //  fist-like  gestures  //  pointing  index  finger  //  running  hand  through  hair  //  rubbing  back  of  neck  //  snarling  //  revealing  teeth/grimacing  //  sharp-eyed  glowers  with  notable  tension  in  the  brows  //  shoulders  back,  head  up  -  defensive  posturing  //  clenching  of  jaw/grinding  teeth  //  nostrils  flaring  //  heavy  exhales

tagging: @menelvagor (for any muse you like!), @prvtocol , @oflorien , @ienemy , @iriysse , @admirableringmaker , @elr0nds , @leg0lais , @uruuk , @muutos (any muse you would like to do this for!), @ga1adriel , @m0rlain , @jewelbeloved , @springsdawn , @infernonetwork (for sméagol?)

if i haven't tagged you and you wish to do this, please go for it! in the same vein, if this isn't for you, feel free to ignore of course. have fun! alternatively let me know if you don't wish to be tagged in posts of this nature.

DEFENSIVENESS: arms crossed on chest // crossing legs // fist-like gestures // pointing index finger // karate chops // stiffening of shoulders // tense posture // curling of lip/baring of teeth

REFLECTIVE: hand-to-face gestures // head tilted // stroking chin // peering over glasses // taking glasses off — cleaning // putting earpiece of glasses in mouth // pipe smoker gestures //putting hand to the bridge of the nose // pursed lips // knitted brows

SUSPICION: arms crossed // sideways glance // touching or rubbing nose // rubbing eyes // hands resting on weapon // brows raising // lips pressing into a thin line // strict, unwavering eye contact // wrinkling of nose

OPENNESS & COOPERATION: open hands // upper body in sprinters position // sitting on the edge of a chair // hand-to-face gestures // unbuttoned coat // tilted head // slacked shoulders // droopy posture //feet pointed outward // palms flat and facing outward

CONFIDENCE: hands behind back // hands on lapels of coat // steepled hands // baring teeth in a grin //rolling shoulders // tipping head back but maintaining eye contact // chest puffed up/shoulders back // arms folded just above navel

INSECURITY & ANXIETY: chewing pen or pencil // rubbing thumb over opposite thumb // biting fingernails // hands in pockets // elbow bent/closed gestures // clearing throat // “whew” sound // picking or pinching flesh // fidgeting in chair // hand covering mouth whilst speaking // poor eye contact // tugging at pants whilst seated // jingling money in pockets // tugging at ear // perspiring hands // playing with hair // swaying // playing with pointer/marker // smacking lips // sighing // rocking on balls of feet // flexing fingers sporadically

FRUSTRATION: short breaths // “tsk” sounds // tightly-clenched hands // fist-like gestures // pointing index finger // running hand through hair // rubbing back of neck // snarling // revealing teeth/grimacing // sharp-eyed glowers with notable tension in the brows // shoulders back, head up - defensive posturing // clenching of jaw/grinding teeth // nostrils flaring // heavy exhales

[heireign]

MORALITY ALIGNMENT TEST — YOU ARE: LAWFUL GOOD.

people who are lawful good believe that an orderly, strong society with a moral government can work to make life better for the great majority of the people. when the laws are fair and the people respect them and try to help one another, humanity as a whole prospers. therefore, people who are lawful good strive for a social order that will bring the greatest benefit to everyone and cause the least harm. lawful good personalities may sometimes find themselves faced with the dilemma of whether to obey the law or do good when the two conflict. for example, when upholding the law of the land would lead to unfairness or harm or when there is a conflict between two orders of what is right, such as between the ways of their community and the law of the government.

tagged by: taken from @lightburnsyou 🫶

tagging: @lcerys , @daekarys , @lenfear , @stormbcrn , @ga1adriel , @greydeath , @maidmyth and @sanctamater

[mvndrvke]

Celeborn smiles cautiously at her words, and gives a small nod. He lets her pull him into movement, bare feet barely making a sound as he walks beside her.

"The paths are no longer familiar to me," he admits as they walk, gaze moving around as he tries to remember each and every detail. "I have found myself lost more than walking familiar halls since I arrived."

It's been frustrating, but he has time to relearn, to understand. He's trying to grant himself a little more grace.

He squints each time they walk past the large windows, eyes burning in the bright sunlight that he's been a stranger to for so long.

"It brought me joy to see the Great Tree once again flourishing," he says to fill the silence between them. He glances at Galadriel. "The High King said it was the work of the rings."

It is a simple request and yet , she has walked alone for so long now she can barely remember what it is to truly be with another — ( and perhaps there was a time she considered that being alone was not the cruelest way to pass the time, when the bond she had shaken off was nothing more than a punishment for her temptation - the lick of monstrous flames at her core only seeking to remind her that she is never truly alone ) ocean eyes flickering down from his face to look at where there hands join with no other thought than perhaps she has forgotten how to be with him. They are neither of them the same as they once were - and yet the sweet song that carries beneath his words hums a melody all too familiar despite the space that feels so vast between their hearts.

❛ this is no dream. ❜ Perhaps it is more of a reminder to herself, her feet feeling heavy upon the wooden floor of the room as she regards their hands once more. galadriel holds celeborn as tenderly as her blade , a guarded protection she dare not release lest the light within her fade once more.

❛ come, let me show you the way. then perhaps you can take me where you wish to go. we do not need to stray from the familiar paths — the trees will remember your face, i am sure of it. ❜

The pull of her palm against his is gentle as she turns toward the door that remains open , the dappled sunlight and birdsong a balm to her when she needs it most — calling to them to step through the threshold together.

[0fmanynames]

𝐎𝐎𝐂; quick update. have done a few tweaks to the rules and verses in accordance to the little changes I have applied to the Sauron portrayal, thanks to the beautiful things @ga1adriel ( my first official affiliate woohoo! ) and I have been writing on discord. Since I been prioritizing that, it's also why I haven't done any RPing over here yet, because I still need to finish icons. But with that being said, know that the muse is being developed and that will be a boon for the tumblr stuff too. As always, thank you for the very appreciated patience!

[muutos]

"galadriel -" there's a sigh heavy 'pon lord of gifts, the greenery of the outskirts of ost-in-edhil almost entirely separated from the darkness and despair of the city.. his voice has woven within an unhidden breath akin to parent heavily scolding their young, whilst head dips in forwards stride to follow her swift exit. still she seems so intent to hide her mind from his reach, however fruitless she knows it to be. knows why she resists, yet resents it, and the patience end of his hour glass has long since run thin . . .

fingers reach impossibly to grasp tightly at porcelain wrist. perfection, undeserving of such plight.

he could mend it all, if she only allowed. purge it all away.

"it is not too late for us." his eyes are all-too earnest in her snap forth, absorbing the fury of her anger and reflecting in deep eyes. stricken with a tinge of pleading. even with his iron crown still hanging from clenched fingers, tight about his prize. "you loved me once. why not now?" his brows eek inward, softly. searching. "fighting by your side, i believed that if only i could hold onto that influence, i could be a true, and noble lord. not a dark one."

@ga1adriel. starter call.

[oakthcrn]

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒. She would miss her parents dearly, but they deserve to feel the light of Valinor upon their faces. Their service had been long and devoted. They tried to hide it, but their souls were growing old, while time did not touch his hand upon the cheeks of the Eldar, there was a sense that her parents were ready for retirement and she was not going to stand in the way of that. 

It was good to hear that the 𝑳𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒍 did not think of her as petulant or selfish for wanting them to stay. When the time came, she would see her parents off at the Gray Havens, and then she would have to learn to live without them. A small ache pooled in her chest and she placed a hand over it as if to quell it. Her parents deserved all the happiness that Valinor could offer. There was comfort in knowing she would one day look upon them again. 

Lark offered a small smile to Galadriel and shook her head. 

❝ 𝐀𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐈 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧. ❞ She said with great reverence.

 ❝ 𝐓𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠'𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞. ❞ Loyal to a fault was a family trait, it seemed. Canting her head to the side, she continued. 

❝ 𝐎𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞, 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭. ❞ She was a child, but the vestiges of memory she held dear, and the construction of Lindon was one of them. Oh, how she could recall the sweet moments of her father lifting her to show her the ramparts and talking about how the walls were made, or when her mother would take her into the markets. She recalled the sea of stalls of vibrant colors and how she went into a lecture on the history of Elven cities past. Lark remembered it all and held those lessons close to her heart. 

❝ 𝐌𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭. ❞ 

❛ Wishing them well and mourning their loss are not thoughts than cannot exist together - ❜ Galadriel's fingers knit together as her hands cross, digits ideally stroking gently over the rings of gold that litter her skin. There is a familiar sensation there - one that is not entirely welcome, all mention of the undying lands sparking something within her that sets her very fëa aflame. A rush of emotion channeled slowly into the movements of her hands, her temperance remaining untouched.

She can understand the pull, the tug that feels as if it comes from deep inside of her. It is the fight that hurts the most, the knowledge that no matter how strong her natural urge to journey west it is something that she cannot surrender too. Not yet. Perhaps not ever.

❛ You are not selfish. You simply have a heart that longs to be beside the ones you love. It not a weakness to feel their loss. ❜

Lark is young. She has not seen what exists beyond the boundaries set in earth and stone by the rolling hills of Middle Earth that work to protect her peace. Yet somehow she sees her brother in every falling leaf and tumbling stream. His gentle eyes and easy smile. Troubled eyes flicker downwards momentarily - blinking upwards with haste, searching out the other's face as if seeking clarity - instead she finds freckles that dust across fine features as if covering them in cascading starlight.

There are times Galadriel wishes she could step back to Valinor if only for a moment. To gaze upon Finrod one more time. But she will endure here because she must - because she has no other choice.

❛ Will you stay in Eregion ? Or perhaps will you return here to Lindon ? ❜

[oflorien]

𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓  𝐈𝐒  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐙𝐄  𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐘.  daughter  stands  before  mother,  her  throat  catches  every  emotion  in  a  sham  show  of  strength.  if  she  could  encapsulate  even  a  portion  of  her  courage  it  would  be  enough  to  shine  upon  the  entirety  of  imaldris.  she  could  only  be  so  lucky  in  time.  a  cloak  the  same  hue  as  the  lavender  which  grew  wild  in  lorien,  a  silver  grey  thread  woven  through  reminds  of  her  beloved's  eyes.  a  home  left  and  one  gained  in  its  stead,  a  harmony  of  all  that  makes  her.  ❛ amillë...  ❜  gracious  hands  reach  for  the  garment,  a  soft  line  of  fur  beneath  her  palm  catches  the  line  of  her  gaze.  to  still  herself.

all  in  vain  it  seems,  the  trickle  of  tears  spills  from  golden  eyes.  It  is  a  moment  that  fleets  and  she  is  a  child  once  more,  at  the  edge  of  independence,  frayed  little  nerves  wishing  to  hide  in  her  mother's  embrace.  a  wistful  smile  blooms.  ❛ this  is  beautiful,  thank  you.  ❜  the  crossroads  of  time;  uncertainty  and  elation  thread  as  one.  to  live  a  life  of  her  own  means  leaving  one  behind.  all  in  love,  blessed  was  she  to  know  nothing  else.  homesickness  held  within  yet,  forgotten  in  the  light  of  the  kindest  summer.  a  hand  that  reaches  for  her  mother,  gentle  grip  insistent  with  the  tremble  of  celebrían's  voice.  ❛ you  are  not  leaving  so  soon,  are  you?  ❜

i brought you something. it gets cold in Imladris in the wintertime. @ga1adriel 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 // 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

[mvndrvke]

SHIPPING INFO. answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog.

what’s your otp for your muse(s)?

i have so many muses so just running through some of the top ships-- penelope/odysseus, nico/will, effie/haymitch, celeborn/galadriel, meg/christine/raoul, achilles/patroclus, neoptolemus/telemachus, inej/kaz, viktor/jace, carlisle/esme, annabeth/reyna idkcmsdlkc

what are you willing to rp when it comes to shipping?

i'd say mostly anything, i'm not opposed to writing smut and stuff like that. the only thing i won't rp is toxic/abusive ships, i'm not interested in those. i'd say i'm a pretty chill writing partner otherwise.

how large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable?

anything that falls into the age range of student/teacher or stuff like that is a no for me.

are you selective when shipping?

not really. i'd like there to be chemistry obviously but i'm always open to discussing ships with people.

how far do steamy moments have to go before they’re considered nsfw?

once clothes come off and/or certain body parts are having.... reactions to what's going on, then i consider it nsfw.

who are other muses you ship your muse with?

some current non-canon ships that i have going that i really love rn are edwina/larys, cecil/lou, cecil/lou/pollux, shmi/obi-wan, penelope/icarus, effie/haymitch

does one have to ask to ship with you?

depends. do you need to ask to send a shippy ask or meme if we haven't written them as a ship together? no, go for it! do you need to ask if we write a canon couple? no, i ship most canon couples. if it's not the vibe for me, it's not a big deal. i prefer to talk about ships but i definitely don't mind people sending a meme or something

how often do you like to ship?

always. i really enjoy shipping and forming those dynamics, so always.

are you multiship?

absolutely yea

are you ship obsessed or ship more-or-less?

listen, i love writing ships. come ship with me.

what is your favorite ship in your current fandom?

@ga1adriel has made me absolutely feral for celeborn/galadriel so i'm gonna say celeborn/galadriel

finally, how does one ship with you?

message me, send a meme, literally anything. i'm always up for shipping-- if you have an idea of characters we could ship, just send me their names in an ask or message. i swear i'm easy to talk to, i'm just slow.

tagged by @twistedtangledfate

tagging anyone who wants to do this

[scion-of-kings]

Impending war, one that could very much stretch across the lands and threaten their own borders, was something that kept the High King's mood in a perpetual state in which he felt he could start barking at the slightest provocation.

And he had, in fact, much to his own chagrin.

He had a temper, but it had never run as short as that of late —specially with those closer to him. It was something he was reluctant to acknowledge even to himself, because both his concerns and harshness had been well merited, but he planned to set aside some time to sit down and talk with them. Soon.

For the moment being, his thoughts wandered between the maps scattered all over the war room's table and the plans he had established long ago should a situation such as this arise: the escape routes, the supply roads, the defences, the places where his people would brave the tough times that would follow while his armies braved the battlefields.

It lent a look of concern to his already burdened expression, and he didn't realize he'd started fiddling with the ring on his middle finger, flicking it so the blue gem faced his palm and only the thin golden band greeted the scant sunlight filtering through the trees.

He hadn't realized, either, that his steps had taken him through the gardens and towards the forges, which would be nearly deserted at this hour —save for the golden braid he spied through the door.

There was one he should sit down with.

“There is much about that expedition that I wish to discuss with you, Commander,” Gil-galad said. She was his father's first cousin, and despite everything she'd done for him in the past, he felt now their roles had been reversed. “I would not want to distract you from your task.”

With that, Gil-galad stepped forward, left his outer robe on a hook near the door and rolled his sleeves up. He didn't intend to work on his smithery today —which was not exactly bad, but could use some refinement— and so he perched on a nearby workbench, his feet propped on stools. He could watch Artanis's expressions from there, feel what his words would do to her. With her, he knew, harsh statements tended to have the opposite effect, while issues were better addressed if phrased not as criticism but as genuine worry.

“I would hear your thoughts on the placement of our troops. Surely the last council is still fresh in your mind?” Gil-galad's wrists rested over his knees, his fingers idly spinning Vilya on its place on his finger. He then raised his head to meet the elleth's gaze. “I will have you know that, despite my earlier words, I am not opposed to you fighting. It is your state of mind that which worries me, Artanis.”

: ̗̀➛ *ೃ༄ A BLADE CANNOT SHARPEN ITSELF ; and she is no stranger to the task - hands working steel against stone , lithe fingers determined and focused as her intent stays upon the weapon held with both tenderness and frustration - between blackened digits tainted by ash and cinders. the forge in lindon is stifling - the great belly of the beast behind her roaring in a heated fury that thrums in time with the raging pyre inside her own heart. that this fire burns so furiously , flames licking at the granite and iron , the metal tested with its great and indomitable passion - that she must earn back her own right to battle inch by smouldering inch.

galadriel thinks that she would cut down one thousand enemies , chain herself to a rock and be thrown to the great sea beast as sacrifice - her guilt is heavier than that boulder. but her grief - her grief stronger still. more painful that she could have ever imagined ...

the blade quivers beneath her touch once again, beaded sweat at her forehead - golden glory braided thickly and frayed over her shoulder as she looks back with reddened eyes to the shape at the door casting a broad shadow across her work. @scion-of-kings would almost look concerned if she did not know his rightful and well placed anger - the heavy pain of a king's concerns weighing against the sapphire and gold that settles on his hand is if it were always meant to be there. her own nenya hangs against her breast, hidden - safe. close. close to her core , save it's light shattering against her own , dimmed and depleted - but not extinguished.

❛  it would be negligent of me to not prepare for our journey to eregion. ❜  breath feels heavy within her lungs against the heat , weak. galadriel had never been aulë's keenest student but now she feels she need to prove that she can complete this task, compelled to sharpen her tool to the peak of it's potential. to hear it's song - ❛  am i needed or may i return to my work ? ❜

starter for @scion-of-kings