Facts

Midnight

Euripides, from “Orestes”, An Oresteia (trans. Anne Carson)

                           entertainment - open to all

          Lindir’s words are only audible because they are carried from him on the gentle breeze that brushes through his hair in the most pleasant of ways. The smell of the forest beyond is INTOXICATING, and he wants nothing more than to shirk his duties and lose himself to the trees as he oft did in his younger years. “But it is important for the health of one’s soul, to be in touch with the Earth.”

🍯 yellow is my colour 🍯

The two choirs join after the Bragollach, each one diminished but not destroyed. Imagine, in the second age, the minority who survived and stayed under Celebrimbor’s rule trying to trying to organise themselves once again and struggling to find a director they can respect. For the first time the female voices are more than the male ones. Imagine, in the late third age, the last few survivors of those who sang in what is known as “Himring’s choir” joining for a last song, maybe in the ruins of Himring itself. As they sing, for an instant, the wind seems to carry all the voices of all those who died and once again their voices are a roar, they can almost see the faces around them, and the hall rising pristine over their heads, held up by their music, yet it is but an illusion that breaks too soon, leaving only old elves amidst ruins.

Erestor // Rivendell for @jane-ways

         "Hail, Lindir. You are looking well!“ She remarked, blue skirts whispering across the stone floors behind her. It was the first she had seen of him since her return, although Angmir had told her there was a rumor he was composing a song about her exploits. She was certain it was merely flattery, as Angmir likely thought her his best customer, given the state she brought her armors back in.

                            A smile warms his features at the ring of a familiar voice against the high ceilings of the corridor as snow begins to cover the ground just outside the window. Lindir forgoes the polite bow of his head and shoulders to open his arms for a friendly embrace (it has been months after all). “Andriel! I did not see you ride in. Wherever did you get to this time?”

Black Mirror: Hang the DJ (2017) Directed by Timothy Van Patten