Scattered pieces of who I am (Legolas/ Arwen/ Mîrioniel)
Jun 6, 2018 20:31:37 GMT -5
Post by Mîrioniel on Jun 6, 2018 20:31:37 GMT -5
TA 2941
It was a long anticipated trip to Imladris. Arwen had told her many moons ago that her brother, Elrohir, had fallen for a fiery haired elf maiden. Their nuptials had been set, and inexplicably crumbled to dust about them at the eleventh hour. Out of respect for the family, Mîrioniel had not returned.
Then the catalyst for moving her north had come in the form of stern words between Haldir and herself. It had come so unexpectedly. The atmosphere had become tense and awkward, Haldir kept to the borders, but she found her walks hampered for fear of coming across his stern expression. Within Caras Galadhon, she would catch glimpse of him and feel unfairly cowed, retracing steps so as not to cross paths with the Marchwarden. Mîrioniel knew not whether he wished to repair the broken bonds between them, and also didn’t feel ready to do so.
There was a fondness she felt for the elf, together they had traversed so much of the hardship to be found in the Arda. He had been a true and honest friend. It wasn’t betrayal she felt, so much as an ache in her heart, unspoken feelings fragile and beset with doubts for the future. Mîrioniel needed to take a leave of absence, rebalance herself and come back rejuvenated. Perhaps unburdening herself with Arwen would help bring prospective to her twisted knot of emotions.
She sought permission from Galadriel for her journey, and it was given, for the wise lady would not refuse Mîrioniel a trip to visit her sister in all but blood. She instead upon a small retinue to accompany her, and the blonde elf maid had not refused, and mercifully, Haldir was not one of those to protect her on the journey. Nonetheless, he would not have been required. Their party travelled swiftly and safely, arriving in Imladris some days later.
Arwen Undómiel was there to greet her, and they embraced each other heartily. As it was late in the day when they arrived, a small repast was arranged for the visiting elves, before they retired for the night. Despite on the journey, Mîrioniel struggling to rest fully, once within the covers of her bed in Rivendell, she found herself in the world of dreams, for the entire night. Unusually for her, it was the sound of birdsong that awoke her. She spent the morning cleansing all signs of travel from her, paying close attention to brushing out tangles from her hair as it dried, and carefully re-braiding her hair, letting curls drape over her shoulders.
She was garbed in a pale green dress, the neckline adorned in silver embroidery, with a darker green pattern embroidered on the cuffs of her gown and the hemline. The dress had long bell sleeves, and a minimal train, it felt good to wear long lines and dress up a little. She knew Arwen would approve of Mîrioniel losing the conservative look for something a little more showy. It felt liberating to use this time to
The two elf maidens met on a veranda, near Arwen’s private rooms. It was early afternoon, the sun was bright, but not too hot. A delightful cool breeze swept through the air, bringing the scent of fresh blooming flowers to them, and the sounds of the waterfalls that cascaded down the cliff tops around Imladris. It was as close to paradise as Mîrioniel could hope to get. Their conversation had ebbed and flowed, and soothed her soul. The real deep conversations were held back for later, in the darkening of the day where such conversations belonged. A glorious afternoon like this ought not to be squandered on melancholic topics.
As she lifted her tea to her lips, she spied a figure coming across the bridge on horseback.
“Are you expecting other visitors?” Mîrioniel asked, lowering her cup back to its plate. She glanced at Arwen, wondering if this mystery guest was for her father, Lord Elrond.
It was a long anticipated trip to Imladris. Arwen had told her many moons ago that her brother, Elrohir, had fallen for a fiery haired elf maiden. Their nuptials had been set, and inexplicably crumbled to dust about them at the eleventh hour. Out of respect for the family, Mîrioniel had not returned.
Then the catalyst for moving her north had come in the form of stern words between Haldir and herself. It had come so unexpectedly. The atmosphere had become tense and awkward, Haldir kept to the borders, but she found her walks hampered for fear of coming across his stern expression. Within Caras Galadhon, she would catch glimpse of him and feel unfairly cowed, retracing steps so as not to cross paths with the Marchwarden. Mîrioniel knew not whether he wished to repair the broken bonds between them, and also didn’t feel ready to do so.
There was a fondness she felt for the elf, together they had traversed so much of the hardship to be found in the Arda. He had been a true and honest friend. It wasn’t betrayal she felt, so much as an ache in her heart, unspoken feelings fragile and beset with doubts for the future. Mîrioniel needed to take a leave of absence, rebalance herself and come back rejuvenated. Perhaps unburdening herself with Arwen would help bring prospective to her twisted knot of emotions.
She sought permission from Galadriel for her journey, and it was given, for the wise lady would not refuse Mîrioniel a trip to visit her sister in all but blood. She instead upon a small retinue to accompany her, and the blonde elf maid had not refused, and mercifully, Haldir was not one of those to protect her on the journey. Nonetheless, he would not have been required. Their party travelled swiftly and safely, arriving in Imladris some days later.
Arwen Undómiel was there to greet her, and they embraced each other heartily. As it was late in the day when they arrived, a small repast was arranged for the visiting elves, before they retired for the night. Despite on the journey, Mîrioniel struggling to rest fully, once within the covers of her bed in Rivendell, she found herself in the world of dreams, for the entire night. Unusually for her, it was the sound of birdsong that awoke her. She spent the morning cleansing all signs of travel from her, paying close attention to brushing out tangles from her hair as it dried, and carefully re-braiding her hair, letting curls drape over her shoulders.
She was garbed in a pale green dress, the neckline adorned in silver embroidery, with a darker green pattern embroidered on the cuffs of her gown and the hemline. The dress had long bell sleeves, and a minimal train, it felt good to wear long lines and dress up a little. She knew Arwen would approve of Mîrioniel losing the conservative look for something a little more showy. It felt liberating to use this time to
The two elf maidens met on a veranda, near Arwen’s private rooms. It was early afternoon, the sun was bright, but not too hot. A delightful cool breeze swept through the air, bringing the scent of fresh blooming flowers to them, and the sounds of the waterfalls that cascaded down the cliff tops around Imladris. It was as close to paradise as Mîrioniel could hope to get. Their conversation had ebbed and flowed, and soothed her soul. The real deep conversations were held back for later, in the darkening of the day where such conversations belonged. A glorious afternoon like this ought not to be squandered on melancholic topics.
As she lifted her tea to her lips, she spied a figure coming across the bridge on horseback.
“Are you expecting other visitors?” Mîrioniel asked, lowering her cup back to its plate. She glanced at Arwen, wondering if this mystery guest was for her father, Lord Elrond.