#halbrnd

Elrond likes blues very much. And greys, like misty mornings. He likes a dark blue like the night sky, foam green, moss green and cold colours in general, that may also delve into plum or lavender. Galadriel is the opposite, she likes warm colours, like red, orange and yellow. The blues she like are rich like the ocean or sapphires. She likes brilliant gold and silver.

There was a deep restlessness inside Galadriel's heart. It kept her from sleeping and resting. Any waking moment was spent with a sense of unease. She prowled through the streets of Eregion like a tiger, putting the other elves at the same sense of unease. It was to Galadriel as if the world had changed. When she gazed outside the city walls, she saw a different Middle-earth. A heavy shrowd had started to settle over it, and nobody else seemed to notice.

It nearly drove her mad, until one evening, when the sun had just began to set and the sky was dipped into rich orange and pink. Even during this favourite daytime of hers, she saw the darkness that marred the beauty in the sky. And so she made her way to Halbrand, who had just recovered from his grave injuries, thanks to the help of Elrond and the healers. Why Halbrand? This was a question she didn't dare to answer, or to examine any closer. All she knew was that he promised a kind of soothing of this agitation that plagued her.

↬ @halbrnd says, “ i could have sworn i saw something. ”

a sound bubbles from their chest, to their throat, and out of their mouth. the fear worries that it will draw the something closer. the fear also wants to ignore this. so it does, and all focus turns toward the sound. to act mortified of their laughter never crossed the knight’s mind, and it never will.

Starlit eyes watched Halbrand work in utter fascination. Blacksmithing never failed to impress Elrond. He himself was more drawn to the less physically taxing crafts, like calligraphy and music, with woodcrafting large figures posing as an exception.

He found it admirable that smiths didn't only possess the raw strength to lift heavy hammers, but also the endurance to spend their days in a hot, loud environment. Elrond himself had already gotten uncomfortable, with the forge being too hot and the air filled with the very distinct scent of various irons, smoke and coal. The shattering and clanking of the anvils had become a source of agitation.

don't thank me, he says, and florence thinks it odd. it lacks the humbling humility she expects from such a demand, or, at least, it is what she assumes. it is what she has, does, and will do.

“ very well, ” starts the knight, “ i will not thank you. ” the words try to choke on the air they take in. still winded from the fight, still trying to recover from the harsh ground. even now their shoulder screams, and it worsens with a grimace when they reach out to set a calming hand on their ferocious mount.

her fea aches with the weight of what they have seen, what they have done together. an ever considered pull within her heart, shattered and pieced back together so often that the cracks within it are thickened with growth - the expansion of her perception.

yet here, within this quiet glade - she feels that @halbrnd sees her more than she would like. yet he senses it too, knows that the feeling is reciprocated despite their many differences. the unease within her spreads like a twisted bushel of wild strung vines.

❛ i had hoped it would bring you some peace; a chance to feel at ease if only for a short amount of time. yet i must confess it has done little for me. ❜ she huffs softly, nose twitching as she finds herself drifting toward a fallen tree, resting her knee upon the gnarled breadth of it before stepping gently to the other side and allowing herself to sit - perching upon the half rotted wood to look up to him with a quiet expectation, cheeks flushing in a way she cannot seem to stop as she regards him above her.

Her head turned left and right, desperation in her eyes as elves and men fell to the ground and orcs kept coming like there was no end to them.

Galadriel was tied up and chained as if one set of binds wasn't enough and even in her rage, she took pride in that small fact alone. They knew she was not someone they could underestimate.

Halbrand was beside ber, bound as well, while they were made to stand, no doubt to be taken to their master, when she heard him speak. Her head turned swiftly with rage burning in her blue eyes as strands of her hair, loosened from her braid, danced around her face.