Want to know why Kíli is so happy? Because Bofur got him some super rare deluxe Maglor Sushi meat for Valentine’s Day.

*gross sobbing*

lorienscribe asked: Just kill yourself already you stupid elf. I'm hungry and in need of elf meat. Happy Valentine's Day.

*gross sobbing, then throws himself out the window*

I hope I sate you, vicious woman.

syrisa asked: Is Ingwe still free to play? How do you join these rps?

Hi, this is Lórien! :) Ingwë, as far as I know, is available! All you need to do is make a blog and then follow the other blogs and just join in! :) Our blogs usually follow a format of ask-(character name.) You can make a secondary or primary blog (own email), but note that a primary blog will allow you to follow other blogs and send asks. :)

gildor-inglorion:

This is not how I imagined a son of Fëanor to be! He’s too, too lovely! Gildor was slightly alarmed. Did i just think Maglor lovely? He replied with another smile, not sure as to how he should find Maglor, lovely or more like a Son of Fëanor. He timidly gave him a look as he motioned him to the private dining room in his chambers. “Indeed it is a wonder how we never met before! I thought you were missing! Well, let’s get going, if we are to meet with your brother.”

Gildor asked him to please take a seat as he fetched fruits, bread and freash wine for their meal. Why is he always smiling?

Maglor thanked him after he was shown the dining hall in Gildor’s chambers. He settled himself, a bit shy and self-conscious of himself. “Indeed it is!” Maglor said. “I visited Finrod many times, but I do not recall ever seeing you.

“Ai, I thought myself lost as well, but it was ironically reuniting with my brother that helped me find Rivendell, and with it my son Elrond.” He hungrily eyed the fruits and bread Gildor was bringing.

(Source: ask-maglor)

gildor-inglorion:

ask-maglor:

gildor-inglorion:

ask-maglor:

gildor-inglorion:

ask-maglor:

“I was in the woods of Imladris? But why?” He listened to his words, and his heart slowly sunk in his chest. “Alarming state? What do you mean? Recall?” He paused and considered the elf’s question seriously. What happened? He could scantly recall a thing.

“There’s nothing in my memory to indicate that anything odd was happening,” he said. “I was feeling under the weather, and my brother offered me some tea, and -” He stopped and sighed loudly, then suddenly feeling embarrassed he covered his face in his hands. “Ai, Curvo! What did you put in the tea?” he yelled out, then tentatively he looked back up at the other elf. “Erm, what exactly did I do last night?” 

Now who could be Curvo? Gildor wondered, his expression a perfect mask of sympathy, but his eyes betrayed his concern. “You were dancing and humming all alone, in the middle of the night”, he replied, scratching his tired eyes from a night of sleeping on a chair. “There’s no need to feel embarrassed, though, I just want to help you. Now, what did you say about drinking tea?” Gildor inquired gently to the concerned figure in front of him. “And who is Curvo, and where can we find him?”

“Curvo? Ai!” Maglor gave a brief embarrassed laugh, hoping his brother will never find out about him uttering his childhood nickname in front of a complete stranger. “It is just short for Curufinwë, my younger brother Curufin as he is known in the Common Tongue.”

He made his way back to the bed and settled on the edge, his hands on his lap. “I was nervous, I recall. I’m remembering more. Some dire news had me shaking. And my brother was kind enough to offer tea. But you see, he’s never been inside a kitchen, and I daresay he used the wrong herb in my tea. 

“I hope my singing and dancing was not disruptive?” He could not help but be worried, prideful as he was of his own musical talents. Was his singing at least good?

“Not disruptive at all! Actually, it was wonderful. I’ve never heard someone sing like that!” Gildor said excitedly to the elf, who was now politely sitting down on his bed, overly concerned with his performance. Gildor took the opportunity to look at him more closely. He had a beautiful face. “We should find your brother, and tell him not to make you tea anymore”, Gildor said, and smiled. 

“You haven’t?” Maglor smiled, unable to help himself. Their eyes met, and Maglor smiled. The elf before him was very handsome indeed.

“Oh, yes, we should find Curufin! I am certain he is worried about me right now,” Maglor said. He stood up. “I do not believe I have your name yet. I am Maglor son of Fëanor.”

Gildor’s gaze flashed with surprise, followed by the tiniest flash of disappointment. “Son of… Fëanor? ‘Tis a honor to be in your presence, Maglor son of Fëanor. I am Gildor Inglorion of the House of Finrod, here to help you with whatever you need.” He bowed slightly, meeting Maglor’s gaze again. “Shall we have something to eat before we go in search of your brother?”

“Yes, Fëanor,” Maglor said, oblivious to Gildor’s disappointment. “And you are from the House of Finrod my dear friend and cousin? It is a wonder why we never met before!” He gave him a warm smile. But yes, some food may be a good idea. If we are lucky, he may already be there.” Maglor gave him another smile before turning to the door, but he waited for Gildor to leave him, for he was uncertain where to go from here to get to the dining hall.

gildor-inglorion:

ask-maglor:

gildor-inglorion:

ask-maglor:

“I was in the woods of Imladris? But why?” He listened to his words, and his heart slowly sunk in his chest. “Alarming state? What do you mean? Recall?” He paused and considered the elf’s question seriously. What happened? He could scantly recall a thing.

“There’s nothing in my memory to indicate that anything odd was happening,” he said. “I was feeling under the weather, and my brother offered me some tea, and -” He stopped and sighed loudly, then suddenly feeling embarrassed he covered his face in his hands. “Ai, Curvo! What did you put in the tea?” he yelled out, then tentatively he looked back up at the other elf. “Erm, what exactly did I do last night?” 

Now who could be Curvo? Gildor wondered, his expression a perfect mask of sympathy, but his eyes betrayed his concern. “You were dancing and humming all alone, in the middle of the night”, he replied, scratching his tired eyes from a night of sleeping on a chair. “There’s no need to feel embarrassed, though, I just want to help you. Now, what did you say about drinking tea?” Gildor inquired gently to the concerned figure in front of him. “And who is Curvo, and where can we find him?”

“Curvo? Ai!” Maglor gave a brief embarrassed laugh, hoping his brother will never find out about him uttering his childhood nickname in front of a complete stranger. “It is just short for Curufinwë, my younger brother Curufin as he is known in the Common Tongue.”

He made his way back to the bed and settled on the edge, his hands on his lap. “I was nervous, I recall. I’m remembering more. Some dire news had me shaking. And my brother was kind enough to offer tea. But you see, he’s never been inside a kitchen, and I daresay he used the wrong herb in my tea. 

“I hope my singing and dancing was not disruptive?” He could not help but be worried, prideful as he was of his own musical talents. Was his singing at least good?

“Not disruptive at all! Actually, it was wonderful. I’ve never heard someone sing like that!” Gildor said excitedly to the elf, who was now politely sitting down on his bed, overly concerned with his performance. Gildor took the opportunity to look at him more closely. He had a beautiful face. “We should find your brother, and tell him not to make you tea anymore”, Gildor said, and smiled. 

“You haven’t?” Maglor smiled, unable to help himself. Their eyes met, and Maglor smiled. The elf before him was very handsome indeed.

“Oh, yes, we should find Curufin! I am certain he is worried about me right now,” Maglor said. He stood up. “I do not believe I have your name yet. I am Maglor son of Fëanor.”

gildor-inglorion:

ask-maglor:

“I was in the woods of Imladris? But why?” He listened to his words, and his heart slowly sunk in his chest. “Alarming state? What do you mean? Recall?” He paused and considered the elf’s question seriously. What happened? He could scantly recall a thing.

“There’s nothing in my memory to indicate that anything odd was happening,” he said. “I was feeling under the weather, and my brother offered me some tea, and -” He stopped and sighed loudly, then suddenly feeling embarrassed he covered his face in his hands. “Ai, Curvo! What did you put in the tea?” he yelled out, then tentatively he looked back up at the other elf. “Erm, what exactly did I do last night?” 

Now who could be Curvo? Gildor wondered, his expression a perfect mask of sympathy, but his eyes betrayed his concern. “You were dancing and humming all alone, in the middle of the night”, he replied, scratching his tired eyes from a night of sleeping on a chair. “There’s no need to feel embarrassed, though, I just want to help you. Now, what did you say about drinking tea?” Gildor inquired gently to the concerned figure in front of him. “And who is Curvo, and where can we find him?”

“Curvo? Ai!” Maglor gave a brief embarrassed laugh, hoping his brother will never find out about him uttering his childhood nickname in front of a complete stranger. “It is just short for Curufinwë, my younger brother Curufin as he is known in the Common Tongue.”

He made his way back to the bed and settled on the edge, his hands on his lap. “I was nervous, I recall. I’m remembering more. Some dire news had me shaking. And my brother was kind enough to offer tea. But you see, he’s never been inside a kitchen, and I daresay he used the wrong herb in my tea. 

“I hope my singing and dancing was not disruptive?” He could not help but be worried, prideful as he was of his own musical talents. Was his singing at least good?

gildor-inglorion:

ask-maglor:

gildor-inglorion:

ask-maglor:

gildor-inglorion:

ask-maglor:

gildor-inglorion:

ask-maglor:

gildor-inglorion:

ask-maglor:

((Setting: Rivendell at nighttime. AU from the Imladris Plot, with Gildor Inglorion.))

Little neon butterflies twinkled at every turn, and Maglor was uncertain how he had gotten here. Just an hour ago his brother Curufin had given him some tea with herbs meant to calm him, but instead it seemed to have transferred him to this strange new and magnificent world.

Frightened he was at first, but how could he? He was surely being silly to feel this way! Mermaids with jellyfish tails swam past him, and the neon butterflies lit paths through the purple mist. He followed the butterflies, humming merrily to himself. Through the purple fog he could see that the grass was swaying around his feet, singing tiny happy songs. And soon all fear left Maglor, and he was chuckling to himself, forgetting the entire world.

Gildor was finally heading home. He gently urged his horse to go a little faster, knowing that both wanted a good night’s sleep. And a good, warm bath. He followed through the familiar vegetation that growed around Imladris’ surroundings, letting his mind rest for the first time in what felt like ages, when he heard weird noises.

Rather, rather weird noises. Was someone singing? He was suddenly fully aware again. Can’t be much of a problem to delay my rest, he thought as he followed the sounds. Weird singing. He felt like his horse agreed with him.

Just as he took a turn to his left, he found someone. A dark-haired elf loomed among the trees, dancing languidly, humming happy tunes to himself and seeming completely unaware of his surroundings. This fellow is not alright, Gildor thought to himself as he got off his horse to touch the elf’s shoulder.

“Are you alright, friend?”

A touch to his shoulder felt like a tiny starbust of light and colors, which drew Maglor’s attention away from his song. He spun around and tried to focus on the being of light before him. He could scarcely make his face, but there was such a beautiful glow to his aura that he did not flinch.

The other being might have asked a question, but Maglor did not hear it, for from his mouth sprout little bubbles that flew across his face and tickled his nose and cheeks.

Maglor gave a hearty laugh and kept singing, encircling the other being with a sort of dance.

This is definitely not good, Gildor thought, frowning. “Do you need any help?” He asked to the dancing elf in front of him. I should bring him with me, this is no place for someone in such state, even if it’s a safe place. He needs a bed. 

He started gently pulling him towards his horse, saying it was going to be alright, that he was a friend, just in case the elf turned violent. He didn’t know what he would do if this happened. He managed to place him on his horse, much to the poor, tired animal’s displease. “You’ll soon get some rest, my friend, I’m sorry”, he said to him, whishing he could say the same to himself. 

He set his course to Imladris again, holding the elf in front of him as he sang unintelligible words and waved his arms around. Fool, you never get to rest. Didn’t you learn that already?

Maglor knew not how he ended up upon the winged unicorn (for that indeed was how it looked to him, complete with shimmering wings and flowers entwined in its long blonde hair), but it pleased him all the same. He sang as he swayed on top of the animal, and he could feel the brilliant light close to him, warm and comforting. The touch made him sleepy, and he leaned forward on top of the winged unicorn’s head.

He still sang, but his voice was drifting away from him, from the vibrant reds, oranges, and golds to wispy hues of violets and blue. He tried to bring the colors back to him, but the darkness and sweet-smelling promise of sleep was more tempting, and with a few more notes Maglor fell asleep.

After a few moments, the humming elf drifted into sleep. Gildor fervently thanked Elbereth for making his journey easier, for trying to hold him on top of the horse as he swayed was not an easy task. I wonder who is he, and why is he in such a state, he thought as he saw the warm lights of Elrond’s House in the valley below him. He wouldn’t go for his advice now, he decided. His eyes were closing and he was so, so tired. He’d take care of the elf tonight, and in the morning, yes, after he rested, he’d go. 

Once he was in the stables, he carefully slipped the elf to his arms and headed to his room, hoping no one would come across. He didn’t want to explain anything, he wanted to rest. He must be under the effect of some substance, he thought as he opened his chambers’ door and carried the smiling elf to his bed, where he placed him and carefully removed his shoes. “Now, rest, friend, for you’re safe”, he murmured as he sat on a rather uncomfortable chair. And please let me at least have some sleep.

Though Maglor slept, his mind’s eye could see all sorts of visions and sounds and even some strange yet wonderful smells, but everything was a confusing haze. Maglor tried to make sense of it, but the colorful clouds kept drifting. He smiled instead, letting the pretty colors just calm him throughout his sleep until he became conscious of them no longer. 

When he finally opened his eyes, the rays form the sun was directly in his face, and he gave a little annoyed grunt. Did his brother Curufin do that to annoy him? He was having a small headache, and he was certain he could see some sort of blinking white squares before his eyes, fluttering like tiny butterflies. But these afterimages faded soon enough as Maglor slowly became aware of his surroundings. This wasn’t his room at all, and he wondered again if this was some dirty trick of Curufin’s. But his brother wouldn’t dare causing too much trouble under Lord Elrond, Maglor’s son, so Maglor shifted his head around to study this room.

His eyes fell on a sleeping elf on the chair, and he wasn’t certain how he should react to this bit of discovery. He had never seen him before.

“Am I still in Rivendell?” he wondered to himself as he slipped out of bed. He felt a bit woozy, but he steadied himself. The strange elf, tall and rather handsome, was sleeping on a stiff chair, and his neck was craned at an uncomfortable angle. Maglor lifted the pillow from the bed and approached the elf, then with as much care as he could do (for he had so many times before for his brothers), he slipped the pillow under the elf’s head, correcting the position somewhat.

“You’re welcome,” Maglor mouthed teasingly to the sleeping elf, and he wondered if he should leave the room now.

Gildor woke up to find that his head was comfortably rested on a pillow, although he was still in the chair. Surveying his room with his gaze, he found his bed made, and the elf looking out his window. As he motioned to get up, he could see his face as he turned with a smile to say “Mae govannen, friend”.

“Mae govannen”, Gildor replied, thinking about how peculiar those words sounded in the situation they were in now. 

Maglor smiled shyly, hoping the elf was not hostile. Earlier he had been looking out the window, ensuring himself that this indeed was Rivendell still. “Erm, I do not know how I came to your room. This…is your room, I presume? And your bed? Whatever reason I came here, thank you. I hope I wasn’t a bother.”

“Absolutely not”, Gildor lied softly. At least he’s not hostile, he thought. “This is my room, yes. I was coming back from patrol yesterday when I found you in the woods in Rivendell’s surroundings.” He refrained from a minute, pondering his words. “You were in a rather alarming state. Do you recall anything about last night?”

“I was in the woods of Imladris? But why?” He listened to his words, and his heart slowly sunk in his chest. “Alarming state? What do you mean? Recall?” He paused and considered the elf’s question seriously. What happened? He could scantly recall a thing.

“There’s nothing in my memory to indicate that anything odd was happening,” he said. “I was feeling under the weather, and my brother offered me some tea, and -” He stopped and sighed loudly, then suddenly feeling embarrassed he covered his face in his hands. “Ai, Curvo! What did you put in the tea?” he yelled out, then tentatively he looked back up at the other elf. “Erm, what exactly did I do last night?” 

(Source: pusheen)