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eachdraidh2014-07-15 08:24 am
orcsurfing) wrote in eachdraidh2014-07-15 08:24 am
memory. open to both courts.
[ All around is white, snow whips across the picture along with long strands of pale golden hair. A pace or two away a couple figures stand huddled together, pressed against a wall of a mountain. Two tall men, four hobbits whose heads barely stand above the surface of the snow, A DWARF* that stands a little taller yet still, and a greying man dressed in greys in a pointed hat. The image, oddly enough, shows them from somehow above all. ]
If Gandalf would go before us with a bright flame, he might melt a path for you.
[ For some, perhaps a familiar voice, for others perhaps not. Light of heart and little troubled by the storm. The man in the pointed hat answers him. ]
If Elves could fly over mountains, they might fetch the Sun to save us.
[ But no matter the wizard and elf exchanging jabs at each other, there are still Men with ideas here. One speaks: ]
Well, when heads are at a loss bodies must severe, as we say in my country. The strongest of us must seek a way. See! Though all is now snow-clad, our path, as we came up, turned about that shoulder or rock down yonder. It was there that the snow first began to burden us. If we could reach that point, maybe it would prove easier beyond. It is no more than a furlong off, I guess.
[ Another - the tallest - answers him: ]
Then let us force a path thither, you and I!
[ And for a moment there it seems that would be the end of the conversation, the camera - so to speak - follows the toiling men, the way they work through the snow with great trouble yet also with some success. Yet not before long, Legolas speaks up again, his voice rising easily in the noise of the snow storm. ]
The strongest must seek a way, say you? But I say: let a ploughman plough, but choose an otter for swimming, and for running light over grass and leaf, or over snow - an Elf!
[ With that said, he springs forth nimbly. The camera briefly showing his feet on the snow, sinking but only a little, leaving little imprints in the cover of snow. And he runs light and easy. ]
Farewell! I go to find the Sun!
[ He says with a last look to Gandalf first, then to the toiling men, Aragorn and Boromir. For them, he has a wave of a hand, before he speeds off. ]
( ooc; paraphrased book excerpt, sassing off to a maia, have at! visual aid, I mean what. *blanche is a loser kill me now I FORGOT GIMLI )
If Gandalf would go before us with a bright flame, he might melt a path for you.
[ For some, perhaps a familiar voice, for others perhaps not. Light of heart and little troubled by the storm. The man in the pointed hat answers him. ]
If Elves could fly over mountains, they might fetch the Sun to save us.
[ But no matter the wizard and elf exchanging jabs at each other, there are still Men with ideas here. One speaks: ]
Well, when heads are at a loss bodies must severe, as we say in my country. The strongest of us must seek a way. See! Though all is now snow-clad, our path, as we came up, turned about that shoulder or rock down yonder. It was there that the snow first began to burden us. If we could reach that point, maybe it would prove easier beyond. It is no more than a furlong off, I guess.
[ Another - the tallest - answers him: ]
Then let us force a path thither, you and I!
[ And for a moment there it seems that would be the end of the conversation, the camera - so to speak - follows the toiling men, the way they work through the snow with great trouble yet also with some success. Yet not before long, Legolas speaks up again, his voice rising easily in the noise of the snow storm. ]
The strongest must seek a way, say you? But I say: let a ploughman plough, but choose an otter for swimming, and for running light over grass and leaf, or over snow - an Elf!
[ With that said, he springs forth nimbly. The camera briefly showing his feet on the snow, sinking but only a little, leaving little imprints in the cover of snow. And he runs light and easy. ]
Farewell! I go to find the Sun!
[ He says with a last look to Gandalf first, then to the toiling men, Aragorn and Boromir. For them, he has a wave of a hand, before he speeds off. ]
( ooc; paraphrased book excerpt, sassing off to a maia, have at! visual aid, I mean what. *blanche is a loser kill me now I FORGOT GIMLI )
no subject
[ Her questions confuse him in turn and Legolas laughs briefly. ]
An elf living among the trees all his life, though 'tis a different name of the Silvan elves as well. I find there to be nothing wrong with tree branches, why do you ask?
no subject
[ For now, she'll be very bitter about people. And hey! Don't laugh, Alice seems to grow a little flustered, blowing strands out of her face as she heaves a sigh. ]
Misters Maglor and Celegorm don't seem like that. I was under the impression that you lot would come from the same place! A place where humans can't come and remains hidden. Like our fair folk.
no subject
[ It's a kind laugh, if nothing else! Not holding even a degree of mockery in it. ]
Mm, Valinor is such place where mortals cannot come, but for those who earned the title of an elf-friend. And even then, in all of our history only a handful sailed west. I was born many ages after the brothers, in woods of the name Mirkwood among the Silvan elves though my father and mother were both of the Sindar clan. The sons of Feanor are of the Noldor clan, the High Elves if you will.
[ He speaks quietly, softly, his expression light and uplifting, even as he speaks of the one who nearly ruined him once and for all. ]
no subject
She's kind enough to just politely nod, but her curiosity gets the better of her again. ]
Feanor- Oh, Mr. Fëanáro! Yes, I remember him. Are all of the Noldor elves so strange?
[ Because they really do seem that way to an impressionable Alice insofar. Oh, no, and here come the questions as Alice props her back straight up, her hands eagerly in her lap. There are little bits of the little girl she was that still shine through, still curious and eager to learn. ]
What makes them "high" elves? How many ages afterwards?