#valinxr

mother of pearl:if my muse tends to lift people up or bring them down

                 slender fingers curl around the long stems of the brightly colored flowers as a smile breaks across the elvhen girl’s delicate features.   ❛  they’re beautiful !  ❜   she praises, lifting the small bouquet of wildflowers to press her face into their sweet fragrance.     they reminded her of a meadow her clan had passed once in the anderfells.    wildflowers as far as the eye could see and blooming in every color imaginable.   she and merrill had spent hours making wreaths and baskets and braiding the small flowers into each others’ hair.    the memory brought another smile to her lips. 

                 suddenly fingers went to work,   twisting and bending the stems of the larger flowers,   some of the blossoms held between her lips until she needed them.   only a few moments passed and a wreath was formed with the flowers to be placed gently upon her ashen locks.    with the left over blossoms,    she wove a small bracelet,    blue-green eyes narrowed in concentration.    a larger wreath was easy to make        -    the bracelet was more intricate and laced with the smaller,   more delicate flowers.

            minutes later the bracelet is finished,   and without asking,   she takes his larger hand in her own and slips the woven band onto his wrist.    ❛  there     -   now we match.  ❜

“Y...you didn’t have to do that...”

    ‘I hate wolves, creepy lookin’ things. You seen      the ones with red eyes? Even worse. Been like      that sense the demons came lurkin’ out. Creepy      friggin’ things.’

Send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse:

          Finrod sat upright in bed, one sweat-slicked palm touching his throat in reassurance that yes it was still there. Yes, he could still breath. It was just a dream, a nightmare of something long passed. The elf set his shaking hands to the duty of wiping away pinprick tears and taming curls to fall over one shoulder as his heart settled. 

          As he became aware of his surroundings, the sounds of the night outside, soft light from the banked fireplace embers, weight of blankets and -

༺ valinxr

     “Many are too frightened to see the beauty that lies in the darkness of night,” The lumbering man glanced back toward the forgotten king at his side, eyes glinting in the dark, refracting that full moon’s light and casting that enchanting blue glow. “You are young still, Elessar.  Your heart yet tainted by all this darkness.” The hound took pause and knelt down before the boy, cupping his face between those calloused hands and giving him a meaningful look. “You must promise me, for all the days that you walk upon this world that you will not let the darkness frighten you too.” He cupped a hand down to his chest, right over his heart. “You are good, young one. Your heart is pure and I know it will remain as such for so very long. You will make a great warrior against the darkness one day. I promise you.” He gave the boy a hug then, “And I will be there to help you for as long as I can, my dear friend. I promise you.”

                 Estel had always been drawn to these woods  ––  even at night,                      where darkness and the sounds of night once  frightened  him                     when he was smaller.     Now, he was still yet a child, but wore                     a sober, serious expression as the large man spoke. Blue-grey                     eyes focused on him unerringly,     an age in them that was so                     beyond his handful of years. 

                       He didn’t flinch as the man knelt before him and the large hands                            touched his face;      he heard the advice with the barest furrow                            between his brows and so many questions in his eyes.