O Lúthien, O Lúthien, what wilt thou weave? What wilt thou spin?

( application under here )

Drop me a note here for comments or criticisms or plottings or questions or random whatevers! I should reply quite soon.

Also, I'll be dumping random musings or rantings about the character and related subjects as comments to this post. Criticism and comments on them are also welcome.

It is a sign of wisdom for one to see beyond what the senses reveal.

Often they mean this for overlooking outward beauty for what is inward. Sometimes they mean this for overlooking the current suffering for the future joys. Yet rarely, if ever, do they mean this for overlooking the futility of this reality itself for the fullness of the true reality to come.

I do not mean to claim knowledge in such 'reality to come' but to proclaim my endless longing for it.

When comes the time for us to declare our vows, Edhelharn, I shall not promise to love you 'til death parts us but also beyond, even if I know not what lies beyond the circles of this world.

This I know: that I do not, cannot, love you as I ought to, wish to. Yet when what binds me to Arda is removed, I may finally behold you as I ought to behold you. And then will I love you truly.

I have almost forgotten this journal.

The recording of one's thoughts was never my pastime, but my father have oft advised me that it makes a good one. Oftentimes we forget our past wishes and our past experiences.

When one is grieving, it is far too easy to see one's life as a bleak road filled with misfortunes. Yet journals give one a fairer view of one's life. It lets one see oneself better. I see, through it, that my life is beautiful, even here. I see now that all is well, even here.

Please extend your greetings, my friends, to a noble man, an ally of ours, a friend. I hope the City has been kind to you, Boromir.

How much more blood should be on our hands if we bear as well the blood of those we did not save. Is death truly so commonplace that its inevitability breeds neither fear nor grief in your hearts?

I have heard said that evil prevails when good men fail to act. Does the blame then rest on those who have done nothing, moreso even than those who have done the evil? Evil prevails, does it not, when evil men succeed to act.

Or does evil prevail nevertheless?

Nay, evil prevails not. Never had it prevailed and never it shall.

A flurry of songs, and most of them joyful too.

Elessar, have I told you of how beautiful you are when sleep covers your eyes? Your face is more radiant to me than even the sunrise.

I am glad for these days, for even more now I am assured of the wisdom of my choice. The path you have set for us leads to glad meadows in the end, and I shall ever be overflowing with joy while your hand finds mine.

There is an Academy in the City. Might we teach them our music?

A gathering is due.

This is an invitation to all those who wish to join us for music and singing.

Tomorrow we shall meet in Xanadu, after the sun is down. Any and all may come to listen, as any and all may present their music. The festivities will end when it does, or until the sun rises.

I believe it will be a welcome relief for all.

( filtered to Aragorn/hackable )

[ooc: I'll put up a log dated for tomorrow soon LOG HERE~! It's open to all~ this might get regular, but that's kinda up to attendance~ More info will be on the log! pleaseprettypleasecome?♥]

[a quiet gasp]

Na-erui lor.

[rustling of sheets, sound of bare feet walking away. Creaking as windows are opened and a quick rush of night breeze]

Im ereb mi vôrn ir caim haill gódat enni. [a pause] Atar, rínnathach an nin ennas?

Is life, also, only just a dream?

[There is only the sound of the breeze. Then, creaking as windows are closed. The breeze stops and a deafening silent falls. If you strain your ears, you may almost hear weeping]

I cannot say a word.

[end]


[trans: 'only a dream'/'I am alone in the darkness when invisible hands reach for me.'/'Father, do you remember me there?' Correct my translation if I'm wrong? ♥ action post allowed for people in the house~]

My mother awaits me. I remember only her pain, but my father tells me we shall see her again, beautiful and fair as she had once been.

I have heard of Telperion and Laurelin, the bejeweled shores of Aman. The Eldar sing not of Valinor; the songs have fled from us. We remember them not. We find the words to sing of the sun, the stars, the moon --flawless, though they be nothing but waste!

I wish to see a land unmarred, a land undying.

Yet the Valar are cruel, for the sea calls not to me!

[ooc: Arwen never met Aragorn~ whiny elf is whiny]

The days have lately been uneventful, but not so this day.

At the least, this curse appears to be nothing more than inconvenient. I believe it shall pass soon enough. Though I wish for it to end merely for reasons of propriety and not because of you, companion.

Dúnadan, I hope you are safe.

The making and unmaking of things here pass so swiftly.

Is it so because of your diminished time? Or is it so because of your wisdom in counting the very fractions of time?

I have thought this once before, and a gardener was standing by: I bade him tell me.

"Thyme," he said, "it is the prettiest thing, and time it will grow on, and time it will bring all things to an end, and so does time grow on. It's very well drinking ale, and it's very well singing and merrymaking, but it's far better sitting by a young man's side that has won that heart of yours."

Gifts, Mat Cauthon, as promised.


[ooc: the quote is non-canonical and is actually from a traditional English song titled The Sprig of Thyme yes they had puns back then Mat's gifts are wrapped in cloth and placed in front of his door; you know what they are, the Elven cloak and dices of bone]

Are all gifts so? That their joys are never without a trace of sorrow?

Though 'tis not sorrow that I feel, but fear. I cannot read the signs of the times. I know not what shall unfold, thus I fear the worst.

Mat Cauthon, I shall be away for a score of days. I thank you for your hospitality, but now I have gone to be with my dear one. Join us, if you will, you need only to tell me and I shall guide you there.

How few now wonder that even the strangest winter has its spring!

Peregrin Took, will you come walk with me tomorrow?

I believe halflings have a certain affinity for mushrooms, we can gather them in the forest. Do not forget your boots, the path shan't be very easy, though worry not for no harm shall come to you if I am with you.

( filtered to weaponxanimal )

'tis a reminder.

"Memento mori," a man said to me. Remember that you must die. And naked came I from my mother's womb and naked shall I return thither on the day of payment.

Yet I am still not beyond anger at this inane humiliation.

1. the way he leans into me when he stands by my side
2. the way he smiles when I tell him I love him
3. the way he sings into my ear and the way each word falls laden with silence
4. the way he touches me like the prized treasure of kings
5. how he forgives me for wrongs I have done and for mistakes I might yet make
6. the way no water nor wine can wash away my love
7. the way I lean into him when I stand by his side
8. how he tells me all his wonderful plans for our lives
9. the way he makes my hopes true, my joys full and my sorrows meaningful
10. the way I faint for his love
11. how he comes to me and says, "arise, my love, my beautiful one, come with me"
12. the way I am his and his desire is for me
13. how my love is as strong as death, its longings as unyielding as the grave
14. how he loves me, how he loves me, oh how he loves me

Who of us in this City are the helpless?

Who of us are the grieving, the hungering, the thirsting? Who of us cannot return the gifts bestowed to us though we wish to? Who of us in this City are the weak, though perhaps not the meek? The ailing, though perhaps not yet wishing for healing?

I wish to know of them.

I have never seen the enforcing of laws produce any lasting virtues.

It seems absurd that even the eating of one's meals must be regulated. Is there anything we can do to gain their trust?

Some wishes are best left not granted.

Though the end is but a haze to me, I know that all will work for good. Even my choice and the choice of my father will be but a black thread that outlines golden wonders.

Yet still I wonder if there may yet be a better way.


[ooc: disowned and runaway princess going off with a slave~ volunteer to be the slave?]

To whom must I address this?

The one I wish to speak to cannot hear, and those who hear do not wish to.

I had a dream --I saw my beloved-- but I woke myself before more could be seen. So pale was his visage, and in my hand a withering garland held. The stars did shine over us that Midsummer's day, Edhelharn, but has the darkness now caught me?

I... dared not speak farewell.

[a clear voice singing softly]

Ne minuial tôl lû. Ir tirich er-'îl gelair awarthannen, ir in-elenath gwennin. I 'îl thinna, i amar ú-dhar--

[sound of fabric shifting]

Irime? Mas le?

Mas bennich?

[a short pause]

Where could I be?