All Things LOTRO

"you’re quiet tonight." doron murmurs shortly, picking at the rough skin of his calloused hands. he considers making some new runestones, but the thought is fleeting and barely there long enough for him to register before he hears another voice join his echo in the gloom.

"you complain when i talk too much, and now you complain that i’m too quiet?" the older elf glances at doron with an amused smile, and doron ducks his head, mumbling something incoherent. tiran laughs, the sound warm and familiar amongst the cold hostility of these empty halls, and doron is glad of it. he glances up and raises an eyebrow pointedly at tiran, incredibly unwilling to admit that particular fact.

nonetheless, tiran only grins and loops an arm around doron’s shoulders, and they make their way towards the last gate that will lead them on to lothlorien before nightfall.

At last I have arrived at Dol Amroth, glorious city in Gondor, kingdom of Men. Faeneth arrived some days before me, and I must wonder if she has remained, or already carried on. As she bears little love for walls of stone, I would not hold much hope of finding her here still.

I had wished to see this city for the first time together, however aware I was that this would be unlikely. For it is beautiful, and she would not have been able to deny that, especially on first sight. The setting sun now touches every tower, every golden-winged ornament, with a brilliant glowing fire. The scent from the bay, brine carried on the wind, is unfamiliar but enthralling. I would have looked upon her as she beheld it with the wonder I know she would possess; her eyes just as blue, wide open and staring as though they would drink in the entirety of the sea.

Gwathnor. The Foundations of Stone, Moria.

Galadriel & Celeborn  Lothlorien.

Around Evendim~

First RP Anniversary Special! Part 3/3

Garavon had had more than a few reservations about leaving the two younger elves on their own. So it was unsurprising to return and see them not in the same condition as when he had left. They were both different, strangely; Harathir was soaking wet, and Faeneth was covered in mud. For Faeneth to have gotten dirty while hunting worms was unavoidable and completely expected. In fact, she seemed to delight in activities that would muss her clothing and it was not an uncommon occurence at all. Garavon had not known Harathir very long, but had not thought him anything like Faeneth in that regard.

When Harathir explained that he had simply fallen in due to slipping on the edge of the dock, Garavon was not sure whether to believe it. Yet Faeneth offered no different explanation, and he decided to leave it be. Still full of doubts, he nonetheless tried to smile, hoping that if Harathir stayed with them the two would learn to become friends… somehow.

—-

Miserably wet, Harathir walked along beside Garavon without saying much more. He had not explained the true cause for his fall into the pond out of a hope that maybe Faeneth would see he did not bear her any ill will. He had hoped they could be friends, and it had seemed maybe they were getting along better… up until she had lied to him about the way to fish and startled him into falling in the pond. It seemed it would take more work for any sort of friendship to occur.

For the moment, all he cared about was getting back to the inn for a bath. He carried his boots in one hand, not wanting to put his wet feet and legs into them. Did they feel heavier than he remembered? It must be his imagination.

—-

Trying to hold back a laugh, Faeneth walked along with absolutely no concerns. If she was honest with herself, however, she was troubled with why Harathir would not tell what she had done. Why not get her into trouble? She had not been nice to him in the slightest, and she would have understood a need for revenge. But he had not told Garavon of anything she had done, from the worms in his pocket all the way up to his fall in the pond.

Faeneth still did not like Harathir. But maybe he was not quite as bad as she thought.