As others depart the early brunch, the sudden emptiness of the greenroom, save for Celebrían Altanissë and herself, makes itself uncomfortably apparent. Without her son to defer attention or her husband to lead in conversation, instinct is to escape rather than engage in a discussion alone with her in-law. But such manners are unworthy, even for her. Her gaze, though temporarily deferred by those departing, returns to the table. There, two porcelain cups emptied of their tea and a freshly brought teapot recalls fragmented memories of a Pultic custom where the youngest in the family attends to the needs of their elders. ❝More tea?❞ she asks, clearing her throat and stunting the silence, with intent to pour Altanissë’s cup before her own. An invitation, perhaps, to engage in a conversation long overdue.

WHEN ELROND VAULTS OVER THE SIDE OF THE SHIP INTO GENTLE WAVES,  she knows that celebrían has called him,  and she would join his mad dash to the shore,  truly,  but her children deserve their own reunion  —  she will wait her turn,  even as her heart beats wildly inside of her chest in anticipation.  there will no doubt be many who await her on the shore  ( even despite her own fears,  she knows that her parents have never held grudges in their hearts,  least of all against their children, )  but her heart yearns to see her daughter’s sweet face above any other’s.

had she not been stopped by the familiar,  unexpected form of finrod,  perhaps she would have interrupted them sooner,  but it takes her a moment to find the will to extricate herself from his grip,  and when she does it’s only because she catches sight of them,  coming in from the sea dripping wet and clinging to each other.

she has eyes for no one but celebrían,  then,  speeding across the glittering sands of her childhood to meet them,  and gathers her daughter into her arms as soon as she’s near enough.  she had thought,  once,  that they would never be reunited.

“  oh,  my hónairë.  ”

          “i read in a book once that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but i've never been able to believe it. i don't believe a rose WOULD be as nice if it was called a thistle or a skunk cabbage.”

𝙼𝙰𝙼𝙼𝙰 𝙼𝙸𝙰 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂. / 𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶.

@aeternitie​ asked : ❛ Tonight, it’s a night for celebration. ❜ / claire to lewis, re: her making of penicillin or ether

lewis had still, four hours later, not recovered from the sheer shock of claire’s announcement. he had wished endless times for some miracle drug or elixir that could render a patient insensible during surgery — indeed, what surgeon had not? — but he had never held any genuine belief that it might be possible within his lifetime, if at all. when claire had first told him, he had scarcely believed it. her demonstration, however, had been impossible to doubt, and lewis’ elation had been positively incalculable. he had half a mind to dash out into the street and offer a free surgical procedure to anyone who might be in need of one, just to give himself the opportunity to test the new drug. 

          “I practice all the time, and he still bests me--” There are very few people who is so open with. His mother doesn’t even have to try, all she had to do was look at him to know something was wrong, and didn’t even have to ask before everything came out in seemingly one breath. “It seems hardly fair.” Arms cross over his chest, his brother seemed to shine sho brightly in everything. Well everything save the fact Faramir seemed to hold onto information with great ease, but he couldn’t win a sparing match with recounting of tales. 

@aeternitie​ said: ❝ would you take a drink with me? ❞ / from claire!

he had not heard her approach and he started slightly at the sudden sound of her voice at his elbow. but quickly, a slight smirk replaced the surprised expression. he recalled the last time he’d encountered lady grey at an event not so dissimilar to this one -- and he was pleased to see that whatever liquid camaraderie they’d forged still remained. 

he made a slight bow.    “  it would be an honor, ma’am,  ”    he said, a knowing glint in his eye.    “  i take it this gathering is no more to your liking than the last.  ”