Silmarillion muse finally gets icons.

[thingol]

I do not know why you have bothered yourself. I am troubled by no one if I do not wish it, and if you displease me, I shall displease you in turn.

Do not mock the Lord of Beleriand by pretending to assume his voice.

[OOC: Canon point is during the Children of Húrin storyline unless otherwise requested.]

Comments

Hey, Thingol :D

[sonof_thrain]

[Oh, another elf. Wonderful.]

Lord of Beleriand?

[thingol]

[He stiffens somewhat, really only because he knows she's right and he doesn't like it. He still reaches a hand out to hers without looking.]

Then what would you have me do, Melian the Wise? It is an ill time to ask me to suffer this manipulation.

[He's cranky and worried because Túrin took off and won't come home.]

[inafadingcrown]

[There's always a good chance that Galadriel is going to get a blast from the past when she finds herself in this place and it seems no exception. Thingol is just as impressive as she remembers, a looming figure, literally and figuratively. Whatever intimidation she might once have felt has been softened by the years. She is no longer a young exile with no home of her own.

But she remembers when she was. She remembers the kindness and mercy he showed to her and to her brothers when he did not have to and it colors her tone.]

I have always found speech on such matters to fall on deafened ears, my Lord. But mayhaps your words will carry more weight than mine.

[thingol]

[Thingol knows Galadriel well enough by now (gal pals with Melian etc.) to know not to say "I should think so!" out loud. She's very powerful in a non-political way (as far as he knows) and can almost certainly make herself heard by whomever she pleases.

Nor does he have any temptation to say that or any other smarmy thing to her, such as "Oh, taking a break from boinking my nephew?" because she's kind of become one of his, in a way. And she's Olwë's granddaughter, to boot, and he's the closest kin she had who was residing in Middle-earth when she first came. So. She's got her own personal soft spot in his heart.]

Mayhaps they shall. But perhaps you have found ways better than speech, Eärwen's daughter?

[inafadingcrown]

[In her defense, his nephew is a very handsome man. It's been a very long time indeed since she has been addressed in that manner and it brings a little smile to her face.]

Would I be here, had I learned the means to keep them at bay? [Her smile shifts, a little amusement creeping into it.] Yet we hold sway over their minds and hearts, do we not? There is some power in that.

[thingol]

[Of course he is. He's related to Thingol. The High King of the Sindar smiles back in that manner which no one who only knew him by reputation would expect. Well. No one who knows him only by reputation would expect him to smile at all, probably, unless it be in malicious glee as he...whatever the horrific stories are about him.

He even reaches out to take his niece's hand as if he intends to bow over it, or guide her somewhere.]

You speak true, Galadriel, and lighten my heart somewhat. Tell me what has become of you since last I saw you, for you do not look the same.

[inafadingcrown]

[And she gives him her hand without hesitation. Whatever his reputation might be, Galadriel knew better.]

A great deal has become of me; I scarcely know where to begin. [And she would rather avoid talk of the troubles that so many of the intervening years have held.] It might please you to know that I am now both mother and grandmother.

[And, thus, your nephew is father and grandfather, but she hopes that goes without saying.]

[thingol]

[He closes her hand in his and guides her to a place to sit, eager to hear news.]

Glad is my heart to hear it. I hope you may see them often.

[With Luthien and Dior in Ossiriand...yeah.]

[therangerking]

'Tis a strange word to use, my Lord. 'Assume'.

[ ooc; jesus christ on a stick, I am late, and I am sorry for being late. ]

[thingol]

[He looks down on this man.

Because he has no choice but to look down at everyone.

So many generations removed, it's not like he can recognize his own blood in this man. But on close inspection, there is definitely something else he recognizes.

And he frowns. It could be in thought, or it could be in displeasure, or he could still be deciding between the two.]

How came you by that ring?

[therangerking]

[ Aragorn glances down at his own hand, at the Ring of Barahir that he wears on his index finger. He smiles, slightly wry. ]

An heirloom, my Lord. [ He inclines his head. ] From a Man who lived long ago, but who left a legacy behind that is richer than Kings'.

[thingol]

[An heirloom.

The implications settle in, and grey eyes look keenly into Aragorn's face.

This man is descended from Beren, and therefore Luthien.

This man is descended, therefore, from him.

Thingol has inadvertently sired many ages' worth of Men.

The irony is not lost on him, thank you.

Elu...thaws. It takes him a second to go from utter stillness. His head tilts slightly, and he continues to stare at this human being who carries some of his own blood somewhere in his body. Also a little of Melian's, and a little of Luthien's. And...Beren's, as well, as hesitant as he still is to count Beren in with the dearest people in his life. No longer because he believes Beren unworthy, but because Beren remains the great man who took his daughter from him for ever and beyond the world.

He looks down at this man, who is the legacy of Beren.]

And what makes this legacy richer than that of kings?

[therangerking]

Great Kings have been born of his blood. [ Softly. ] Their legacies are his own as well. The father of Kings, he is, and the King of Kings, with his lineage stretching long thousands of years past.

[ Aragorn knows he looks upon Luthien's father, the face of the Elf who is one of his own ancestors, and he keeps his head bowed and his voice soft, reverent. ]

None will ever forget his name, or his story, though he no longers lingers in this world to tell it with his own lips.

[thingol]

[To tell Beren's story would be to cast Thingol as the villain, and Thingol is well aware of it.

He loves Beren. That's a strange thing to admit even now, but Beren earned it, first with his hand and then with his life. But is it only Beren's blood that is the mark of pride in his line?]

Do they speak still of his wife?

[ladyofrivendell]

[Celebrian inclines her head and smiles.]

I'm sure that no mockery is intended, my Lord. They typically do this out of fondness.

[thingol]

[You, he does not know. But it's only his own kin who have that hair color, so it's as good as an ID card.

He inclines his head right back. Sort of redundant, given that he has to incline his head to see her at all.]

I daresay it is an ill way to show fondness. What is your name?

[ladyofrivendell]

I wouldn't disagree with you, it is terrible manners but I suppose that's simply how they are.

I am Celebrían, my Lord.

[thingol]

I have not heard your name, nor do I know your face.

[ladyofrivendell]

It would surprise me if you had. I was born many years after your time, in Eregion. I believe, however, that you do know of my parents: Celeborn and Galadriel.

[luthien_tinuviel]

Do not think ill of those who admire you so, Ada. If nothing else, it can be quite diverting.

<333333333333333333333 bb girl

[thingol]

[How to be in a sour mood around Lúthien. How to dooooo iiiiit...

He gives up. Silver eyebrows rise, as do the corners of his mouth, a little.]

Diverting, sellig*?

[He gives in to the smile and reaches both hands out for hers. She has but to come to him he never gets to see you bb you're always in Ossiriand...


*diminutive of "daughter"]

oh maybe I should mention I've been playing her from before she met Beren

[luthien_tinuviel]

[She prances up to him and puts her hands in his, allowing him to twirl her once. As always, she is radiantly beautiful, but she seems innocently happy in a way that her father would not have seen for many years.]

Of course! I have been living in Gondolin, of late, and I have met so many interesting people. There are humans there, and dwarves, and creatures in such varieties as you could not imagine! Birds that swim instead of flying, and some with no wings that stand two times as tall as an elf, even one so tall as you!

[Lúthien beams up at him, looking young and bright.]

sldfihldf I've been playing him from around Túrin's debacle

[thingol]

[This is very confusing. He's...not real crazy about her being in Gondolin. At all. Actually, he's starting to test that idea that he can't be sour around her.

...guh]

Gondolin, Lúthien?

what a mess THAT turned out to be

[luthien_tinuviel]

Yes, Ada. [Oh, how to explain it?] People from many points in time throughout the history of the world have been brought there by some magic. Lord Turgon is trying to determine why, but no one is really sure.

I know that there are many fell things that are to befall Gondolin, but I believe that it's possible the future has changed. The city's, and mine as well.