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are you proud of being able to say all dwarves look the same to you without actually being racist?
“I think you, Grey one, are the person who should be proud. That is a clever joke. Far better and more creative than those who have asked what my elf eyes see. I must say though, no two Dwarves smell the same. It’s very much like walking into a cheese shop.”
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10, 19, 22?
“Nothing like some quality introspection to start the day I suppose.”
10:Someone who makes you happy effortlessly?
“This one is easy. My son and my wife, or rather her spirit and touch that still lingers in our garden.”
19:Thoughts on affection/intimacy.
“I’m not quite sure what I am supposed to say here. My thoughts on intimacy vary greatly depending on who the other party or parties are. I do believe there are some immutable standards or rules when it comes to intimate matters. The first is consent. No amount of ale or wine or other party favour justifies robbing someone of their dignity or security. The second is laughter. Laughter and conversation. A strong marriage is full of it. Not cruel laughter of course, unless it is the kind that comes after tickling someone’s foot that is sticking out from under the duvet. The third is to never leave toenails or crumbs in the bed.”
22. A time when you felt the most yourself?
“I always feel like myself when I am hunting. I do not feel empowered by having control over a game animal’s life, but rather by the whole experience. Even if I come back with empty hands and a full quiver; the crisp bite of the air, the sounds of everything in the Forest and field unfurling and chirping in tandem with the hoofbeats of my mount will stay with me for days. I also gained a new appreciation for what it means to “feel like myself” after Legolas’s birth. My initial recovery after Dagorlad…was not one of the most proud parts of my life.
Endeavouring to rebuild the Greenwood with my injuries and the tragically diminished numbers of my people was no small feat. Mirkwood would not be the flourishing force it is today without many, many loyal, resilient souls and helping hands. After my wife passed during the birth of our son, I collapsed into a bottle of Dorwinion wine. Several bottles of Dorwinion wine. The moment I was roused and an attendant put my swaddled son in my arms, I felt as though I had broken through the ice covering the Marshes that had been trying to drown me with far more potency than the wine. I felt renewed, and truly like who I was supposed to be.”
The whisper of fingerpads over the stone walls. Distant idle chatter of guards and craftspeople. The gurgling of the small aqueducts diverting hissing warm water from the underground springs. Scorched tapestries from Doriath. Ridges of thread telling scraps of a story as carbon crumbles to soft powder. Hunting in the dense forest air, overgrowth muting the breeze. When you rattle an antler call, it just travels through the fog, richocheting from tree to tree with a haunting cadence of distance...
//aficmaybehappening
Illustration of this response. Thranduil in the bath with his novelty rubber duckies.
//I may or may not have sprinkled references to people who've been there for some dark times all over the ducks XD.
What do you call an Elvenking who faces a dragon?
Blindsided.
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[1/17/2015 5:39:40 PM] Mori: Thranduil favors mounted combat? I'm surprised
[1/17/2015 5:39:40 PM] ThrandyPants: he does
[1/17/2015 5:39:57 PM] ThrandyPants: open fields...a real echolocation challenge
[1/17/2015 5:40:08 PM] ThrandyPants: riding what Thingol wasn't fond of
[1/17/2015 5:40:16 PM] ThrandyPants: the power of a Mongolian recurve
[1/17/2015 5:43:06 PM] Mori: Especially if riding with a bunch of horses clouding the airspace with clops
[1/17/2015 5:43:25 PM] ThrandyPants: It's like war drums spurring him on
[1/17/2015 5:43:28 PM] ThrandyPants: he LOVES it
[1/17/2015 5:43:37 PM] ThrandyPants: his advisors HATE that he loves it
[1/17/2015 5:44:03 PM] Mori: hahaha
[1/17/2015 5:44:20 PM] Mori: His advisors must be spending so much time telling him not to do the thing
[1/17/2015 5:44:52 PM] ThrandyPants: they do
[1/17/2015 5:45:01 PM] ThrandyPants: and he's forever the defiant lordling
//Alright, alright going to do scribbles now, but if you're not watching The Blind Film Critic, you're missing out.
On pelts and hunting.
"The feel of fur alone is not a primary indicator of species or wardrobe. A fox from a buck? Certainly. It is the musculature, the smoothing of hands over the face. What is it draped on? A pair of shoulders? Is there a hard floor beneath a flat pelt? Does it have antlers or horns? What shape are its ears? What does it's voice sound like? Is it a bark, a mewl or a growl? How large are the footfalls across the forest floor? Did your arrow pierce? Can you smell blood? Where along the animal do your fingers get wet with said blood?"
