silvertales:

Tiny bit late with August 26th’s daily doodle sketch-like thing.
This is actually only half the page, the rest of the image I hope to fill in at a later date to bring my original idea to fruition.
This is what I WANT from “The Battle of The Five Armies,” but am unlikely to actually GET: a scene of Thranduil showing *some* kind of paternal affection for his son, after finding him alive after the slaughter on the battlefield. Jackson’s complete lack of any kind of paternal inclination from his Thranduil really kind of irritated me in “Desolation of Smaug.”
As usual, Copic markers and white ink on tan paper at 9x12”

silvertales:

Tiny bit late with August 26th’s daily doodle sketch-like thing.

This is actually only half the page, the rest of the image I hope to fill in at a later date to bring my original idea to fruition.

This is what I WANT from “The Battle of The Five Armies,” but am unlikely to actually GET: a scene of Thranduil showing *some* kind of paternal affection for his son, after finding him alive after the slaughter on the battlefield. Jackson’s complete lack of any kind of paternal inclination from his Thranduil really kind of irritated me in “Desolation of Smaug.”

As usual, Copic markers and white ink on tan paper at 9x12”

    Deep in conversation

    goldenglorfindel:

    ecthelion-of-the-fountain:

    "Thank you." He said quietly, a faint smile on his lips but it didn’t exactly reach his eyes. He looked down on his hand, only a bit of red mark now left that would heal quickly, within a day or two probably. He still reached for the bandage though, wrapping just enough so it would be protected from rubs and such. And perhaps, hidden from sight.

    "It was just the kettle. El was running around and pulling at my legs and I missed the hand." He explained the incident shortly, looking back at Fin, though his gaze was still quite distant.

    "I stared at it for too long…" He added almost apologetically, shaking his head. "And you. You need a change of clothes." He noticed, reaching to move a strand of wet hair back over his ear. "And a bath, to warm up?" He suggested, trying his best at being practical, at least, even if he couldn’t hake off the mood and memories completely.

    "Aye, I do at that. I think the wind is changing, there’s a freshness coming, I think the cold will be here soon." He gave an involuntary shiver as he realised the dampness of his uniform had spread to his under shirt and grimacing stood to go to the bedroom to strip. 

    "Tis quiet a thing to be caught out staring at a boiling kettle for long enough that it might scald," he commented, voice becoming muffled as cloth covered his face and he called back through the doorway. A shirt was tossed haphazardly towards the linen basket, trousers soon following and goose-bumps were raised on his skin as the air hit his clammy frame. That combined with cold tresses now lain upon his back and he wishing the bath was already drawn as he padded through to the adjacent bathroom.

    It wasn’t what he meant but he still smiled at the small joke, taking care of the rest of the bandage and the salve, putting it back into place before he followed Laure to the bathroom, the same distant expression back to his face. 

    "I meant my hand." He explained, pulling one of the stools closer to t the tub to sit on. "I stared at my hand too long, like a fool. But it’s been a while since I got myself burned… I’ve been rather cautious around fire since I came back." He continued, making a challenge for himself of not picking at the bandage as he watched Fin dip into the quickly filling tub.

    "It was one hell of a duel…" He murmured, almost as if to himself, resting his forearms on the edge of the tub, dipping the tips of his fingers into the water as he allowed himself to look back at the memories of his last fight in the previous life…

      Deep in conversation

      goldenglorfindel:

      ecthelion-of-the-fountain:

      goldenglorfindel:

      With an audible sigh Glorfindel lowered his blade, sheathed it at his hip and pushed his damp hair back off his forehead. He straightened, looked at the expectant ellon before him and with a flick of the wrist and a few words dismissed him, along with the rest of the Imladrim on the training field. 

      It was drizzling in the valley, not un-typical for early autumn and the air smelt of the woods. the leaves that had started to fall and the ferns that were dying back. The earth that had been disturbed by the showers they’d been having, it was the smell of decay, yet it was far from unpleasant. Usually he enjoyed being out, but today he was becoming soaked through with the dampness and he just couldn’t concentrate. 

      Glancing over to the houses, white stone with golden gilt visible through the trees, he sighed again before turning towards the barracks to rid himself of his armour for the time being, wondering just why Ehtele was in such a brooding mood. For it was that more than anything that was taking his attention and he resigned himself to going back to talk.

      The fire was red
            It flaming spread…

      He wasn’t sure where he knew the song from. The slow, nostalgic melody, deep, vibrating voice of the singer… It came back to him today, almost like a bad omen but he only thought of that now, putting some salve over his burned hand before he could wrap it with bandage.

      It was his own recklessness, really, and the strange aura of the day that wouldn’t let him focus properly. Elensil running around and between his legs and the hot kettle were enough for him to fall a victim to a rare case of clumsiness. But he blamed the day. Now, with his son having his afternoon nap, he could finally take care of his hand.

      The burn wasn’t very big or bad but it didn’t have to be. Once the house fell silent, there was nothing else he could think about, nothing he could look at. Sat on the couch for a long while and he just stared as if the damaged skin was supposed to reveal some secret to him.

      The fire was red
          It flaming spread…

      The sound of the door snapped him out of his memories and thoughts, making him look up sharply with a breathless “Laure!” and close his hand, pulling it closer to his body in an instinct. He still didn’t even start bandaging it, he realised with a small pang of guilt for what his husband was probably about to say.

      "AI!" His eyes darted to Ehtele’s hand, starting forwards and going automatically to one knee before him, reaching tentatively for the injury, looking at his face then back to his hand as his own fingers hovered over the angry red mark. He could feel the heat faintly emanating from it and tutted softly.

      "Should I ask?" Brows knitting in concern and Glorfindel held one hand, palm down over the site and concentrated a brief moment in sending out healing energies, countering pain and damage as best he could. He was no Elrond and his skils really lay elsewhere, but he was Eldar and graced by the Valar also, so not entirely useless.

      Rising only to sit beside him and he didn’t probe for an answer, knowing the other well enough that he would speak in his own time. Something was obviously bothering him and besides, seeing a burn upon pale skin…well the memories it pushed to the surface were certainly not the pleasant sort.

      "Thank you." He said quietly, a faint smile on his lips but it didn’t exactly reach his eyes. He looked down on his hand, only a bit of red mark now left that would heal quickly, within a day or two probably. He still reached for the bandage though, wrapping just enough so it would be protected from rubs and such. And perhaps, hidden from sight.

      "It was just the kettle. El was running around and pulling at my legs and I missed the hand." He explained the incident shortly, looking back at Fin, though his gaze was still quite distant.

      "I stared at it for too long…" He added almost apologetically, shaking his head. "And you. You need a change of clothes." He noticed, reaching to move a strand of wet hair back over his ear. "And a bath, to warm up?" He suggested, trying his best at being practical, at least, even if he couldn’t hake off the mood and memories completely.

        Deep in conversation

        goldenglorfindel:

        With an audible sigh Glorfindel lowered his blade, sheathed it at his hip and pushed his damp hair back off his forehead. He straightened, looked at the expectant ellon before him and with a flick of the wrist and a few words dismissed him, along with the rest of the Imladrim on the training field. 

        It was drizzling in the valley, not un-typical for early autumn and the air smelt of the woods. the leaves that had started to fall and the ferns that were dying back. The earth that had been disturbed by the showers they’d been having, it was the smell of decay, yet it was far from unpleasant. Usually he enjoyed being out, but today he was becoming soaked through with the dampness and he just couldn’t concentrate. 

        Glancing over to the houses, white stone with golden gilt visible through the trees, he sighed again before turning towards the barracks to rid himself of his armour for the time being, wondering just why Ehtele was in such a brooding mood. For it was that more than anything that was taking his attention and he resigned himself to going back to talk.

        The fire was red
              It flaming spread…

        He wasn’t sure where he knew the song from. The slow, nostalgic melody, deep, vibrating voice of the singer… It came back to him today, almost like a bad omen but he only thought of that now, putting some salve over his burned hand before he could wrap it with bandage.

        It was his own recklessness, really, and the strange aura of the day that wouldn’t let him focus properly. Elensil running around and between his legs and the hot kettle were enough for him to fall a victim to a rare case of clumsiness. But he blamed the day. Now, with his son having his afternoon nap, he could finally take care of his hand.

        The burn wasn’t very big or bad but it didn’t have to be. Once the house fell silent, there was nothing else he could think about, nothing he could look at. Sat on the couch for a long while and he just stared as if the damaged skin was supposed to reveal some secret to him.

        The fire was red
            It flaming spread…

        The sound of the door snapped him out of his memories and thoughts, making him look up sharply with a breathless “Laure!” and close his hand, pulling it closer to his body in an instinct. He still didn’t even start bandaging it, he realised with a small pang of guilt for what his husband was probably about to say.

          + aww

          picking-up-where-dad-left-off:

          No but just think

          Little Faramir asking Boromir how to talk to girls and blushing when he repeats what his brother told him to one of the women in the court.

          Faramir getting injured in battle for the first time so Boromir spends the entire night curled up at the end of his bed.

          Faramir and Boromir getting really drunk and caught by their father so they try and prove their sobriety by practicing sword drills…..It does not work out well….

          (mainly based on the film portrayal of them rather than book)

              Anonymous said:
              what is the first word, one word, that comes into your mind to describe what Glorfindel means to you?

              "Love." he said without hesitation.

              "The love you give, the love that rips you apart at times, only to make you a better person. Love that makes you do things you would never be able do to without it. Makes you strong where you were the weakest and brave in face of any danger. Love that brings up your worst traits so you can fight them and win."

              "It’s also the love you receive. Love you’re never going to be worthy of but it’s not for you to decide anyway. Love that will reach for you even if you fell into the darkest pit of hell. Love that cares, that trusts and never falters."

              "Love you only know if you felt and if you did, you will never let go of, never give up."

              villainyforbeginners:

decided to colour today’s doodle. idk how they’re planning to make thor unworthy but i’m really hoping it involves demonic possession/non-consensual soul deprivation of some kind and thor goes around swinging a breiðöx, stripped of his morality and his shirt, doing terrible terrible things.

              villainyforbeginners:

              decided to colour today’s doodle. idk how they’re planning to make thor unworthy but i’m really hoping it involves demonic possession/non-consensual soul deprivation of some kind and thor goes around swinging a breiðöx, stripped of his morality and his shirt, doing terrible terrible things.

                + gold
                • C.S. Lewis: I made you a character in my book!
                • J.R.R. Tolkien: OMG me too!
                • Lewis: You're the man who created the wardrobe that leads to Narnia!
                • Tolkien: ...
                • Lewis: Who am I?
                • Tolkien: A tree
                • Lewis: ............
                • Tolkien: But, like, a cool tree
                ❛❛

                Ah, those two. In a fight, they’re lethal. Around each other, they melt.

                Sonya Karp, The Golden Lily (via zoeyrps)

                (Source: rosehathway)

                  monkeyelbow:

                  Young Elrond and Gil-Galad. From Lord of the Rings.