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#leaves of gold
alystraea14 days ago
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The Death of Arwen
'But Arwen went forth from the House, and the light of her eyes was quenched, and it seemed to her people that she had become cold and grey as nightfall in winter that comes without a star. Then she said farewell to聽Eldarion, and to her daughters, and to all whom she had loved; and she went out from the city of Minas Tirith and passed away to the land of L贸rien, and dwelt there alone under the fading trees until winter came. Galadriel had passed away and Celeborn also was gone, and the land was silent.
'There at last when the mallorn-leaves were falling, but spring had not yet come, she laid herself to rest upon Cerin Amroth; and there is her green grave, until the world is changed, and all the days of her life are utterly forgotten by men that come after, and elanor and niphredil bloom no more east of the Sea.
'Here ends this tale, as it has come to us from the South; and with the passing of Evenstar no more is said in this book of the days of old.'
(from聽鈥淭he Tale of Aragorn and Arwen鈥, LotR Appendices)
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If like me you always found Arwen dying alone too unbearably sad, you may have imagined her bros Elladan and Elrohir with her at the end, or her grandfather, canon be damned.
Or... maybe this:
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fanfic under cut:聽
Lothlorien, FA 121.
The Wanderer moves like a shadow beneath golden-leaved boughs of mellyrn. His feet have walked the length and breadth of Ennor, but never in the days of Nenya's power did he enter these woods. Only in the last few decades, long after it has lain abandoned by the galadhrim, has he wintered here. The trees of gold awaken memories of Tirion. Each winter he comes, he sees evidence of the fading鈥 the leaves more sparse, the gold less bright鈥 He approaches a great mound at the heart of the woods, with its two circles of trees, white and gold. Even from afar he senses that he is not alone鈥 senses the faint light of a life slowly ebbing away.
She is as a shadow herself, as she lies at the foot of the greatest mallorn at the center of the mound. She is pale as death, and lines of mortality and grief have in the past few months etched themselves upon the face that once was fairest. But still, he knows her. He approaches silently. Kneels near her. He has sung naught but grief and lamentation for millennia. But now, ever so softly, from his lips lilts a tune he heard a maiden sing in the springtime of her life. And her grey eyes slowly open. They are dim, unfocused, and search awhile before they find him.聽
"You," she whispers in Sindarin, her voice barely audible. "I know you."
He is intimate with such despair and loneliness. Such sorrow. "Daughter, how may I help you?" he asks gently.
"鈥ill you鈥 sing鈥?"
He takes her hand as it lies on the still-green grass. It is cold, so cold, thin and frail, the bones like a bird's beneath flesh grown loose. Her fingers tighten ever so slightly on his.
He stays by her side throughout the winter, through sun and rain, and for her he lays aside his songs of woe. From his lips come all the songs of childhood he once sang to a young pair of twins. He hears the clash of swords in the Havens, remembers the nightmares that woke them鈥攁nd him鈥攊n the nights. He remembers the feel of small bodies pressed against his as he awakens to find they have crawled yet again into his bed, fearful of monsters in their own room. How innocent they had been of the true monster that he was, fair of face but black of soul. How touchingly they had gripped his hand for comfort, that had shed the blood of their kindred. As he sings the old, familiar songs he remembers yet other children. His younger brothers as he sang to them. Himself, as his mother sang to him. He would have wept for the loss and doom of all those children, but he has no tears left to shed.
The nights are cold. He takes a cloak from the oiled-leather pack, the parting gift the elves of Imladris had left for him ere they departed, that one of the peredhel twins had contributed to it. The wanderer now lays the new dark-grey cloak over Arwen.
She speaks only once more, as the first buds appear on the mellyrn, and leaves of gold begin to fall. He barely makes out the words.
聽"Estel鈥 tolen*鈥"
Her face in death is young and radiant, all lines of grief smoothed away.
He buries her where she lies, her brother's cloak her shroud. He raises a shallow mound of earth over her, and scatters early-blooming niphredil over the grave. He then finds a grey stone, and with his blade he takes his time to chisel letters upon it. As he does so, he remembers his mother's hands on his as she had taught him, his hands almost too small then to hold the tools.
Golden leaves fall in the empty woods as spring comes. They flutter onto the mound and upon the stone he has left to mark the grave.
She was neither Queen nor Evenstar of her people to him, so on the grey stone the wanderer has chiseled, in the ancient classical mode of Tengwar:
Arwen Elrondiel.
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(*tolen:聽鈥淚 come鈥)
(from Ch 35 鈥淭apestry of Three Worlds鈥 in The Golden and the Black https://archiveofourown.org/works/5289005/chapters/12208913)
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fangirlfortress19 days ago
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Of course, he has no human money. But the High King of Elfhame refuses to pay with glamoured leaves, as though he were some common peasant. He hands over glamoured gold instead and walks out with his purchases, feeling smug.
How the King of Elfhame Learned To Hate Stories by Holly Black
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violenceistheanswer23 days ago
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@duskregrets鈥 { Jonah } asked:聽鈥測ou wanna talk about it?鈥
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James鈥 well鈥
If he were more aware, he would perhaps better-note Jonah鈥檚 look of concern. [ After all, as safety-conscious鈥撯搒ome would say paranoid鈥撯揳s he is, when had he ever聽left the door unlocked, let alone not even bothered to close it all the way. ]
If he were more coherent, perhaps he could manufacture some [ unconvincing ] excuse as to why he had been so careless.聽
If he were more composed [ and not currently sitting on their kitchen floor, half-slouched against a cabinet ], perhaps he wouldn鈥檛 even have needed to offer explanation.
If he were more sober, he would be ashamed to say that he鈥檚 absolutely wasted right now.聽
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鈥溾 Her name 鈥榮 Teresa,鈥 he begins at last and, despite the pronounced聽slur, how careful he is to correctly say her聽name.聽鈥淗er name 鈥榮 Teresa鈥 鈥榥鈥 i鈥 was a bad breakup鈥︹澛
He says no more for a moment, simply raising the [ current ] beer bottle and swirling it around a bit as he narrows his eyes. For a moment, he simply watches the liquid slosh around in the bottle, before he finally takes another swig of it and continues, blinking hard as he looks away from even the general direction of the younger man.
"We鈥︹ A shrug.聽鈥淭hings en鈥檈d fine, but鈥︹︹ But,聽fuck. I never wan鈥檈d i鈥 to鈥 I never wan鈥檈d i鈥 to en鈥, you know鈥 ?鈥
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artschoolglassesa month ago
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Wreath of oak leaves and acorns, Greek, 4th Century BCE
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nightfayre2 months ago
no thoughts just the idea of tianshan date idea going through a haunted house on halloween and waiting in line for hours like it鈥檚 a fright fest type thing
no thoughts just the image of guan shan shouting in true Terror when one of the haunted house actors that walk around the entrance/lines scares him and he tian has to pretend like it didn鈥檛 happen to save his boyfriend鈥檚 pride but there are literal tears building in the corners of his eyes because of how hard he鈥檚 trying to hold back his laughter
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gamingofkenna2 months ago
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Thief Gold Thoughts
As I mentioned in my bingo update, I didn't actually play this one, I watched a 6.5-hr long play video of the entire game on YouTube instead. I got about halfway through playing the first real mission before giving up for the twin reasons of 1)I hate these controls and the way they interact with this oldschool video game logic, and 2) I can't see my screen??
(I realize I can remap controls, which I did start to do, but there were just so many controls and I didn't know what most of them did yet, and I am not an adherent of the 'git gud' philosophy.)
So I watched the whole game (and looked up mission recaps on the wiki to get all the lore the gamer I watched was skipping) and it was interesting, I can see why it would've been a game with a cult following.
But I also kept seeing people comparing this trilogy to newer stealth games, saying things like this is 'true' stealth whereas newer games let players just brute force their way through. The guy who's video I watched was definitely brute forcing his way through; running around, knocking out every guard, getting all the achievements but not really being... stealthy about it.... And sure, that's just this one video, but if this game makes the brute force technique possible then how is it any different from later stealth games?
I've also seen people praising the protagonist, and there's two more whole games with him so I'm sure he'll reveal himself to be a fully realized character over time but in this first game he's really just... not. His personality traits are "I'm too cool for school" and "I enjoy completing the main objective of this game." I see so many guys thinking characters are well-written just because they're male power fantasies.
That isn't to say this is a bad game or anything. I think especially for its time it's even a good game. But I think there's a lot of childhood nostalgia involved in people thinking later stealth games aren't better.
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maybemorrigan2 months ago
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I can't actually see the sun from here but I am watching the sunlight sparkle in the pine trees after the rain, watching water drip and glitter, watching the green turn gold and glistening, and I am so tired of winter
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