mallossel

The pounding of her feet resounds like the drums of war resounds like the beat of her heart burning in her breast. Smoke and ash chokes out the sky above and holds it in wretched darkness. Not even the slender rays of silver moonlight break through the thick clouds to offer the favor of the Valar upon the sight of this war, where fair fey fall and fairer are sundered.

This letter is written in Sindarin, with a rather messy hand trying to be neat. At some points, the page is splotched with dried tears.

Naneth,

Imladris, after the return of the Windswept from Angmar

Lothlorien, 4 and a half years ago

Two Elves sat on a high flet in Caras Galadhon, sipping red wine and looking out over the city of trees below. 

“Loth, you must bring your new friend to your Aur en-Onnad, I would love to meet her!” Melleth bustled around the small home, making tea and pulling out food for her daughter.

Worthy of Song 

When the hammer falls, back our enemy crawls! When the hammer quakes, Orcish cowards’ bones will break! When the hammer cracks, and it beats their armies back! When the hammer’s boom, sends the monsters to their doom! When the hammer falls, when the hammer falls! 

“Ye won’t make it.” 

Gondolin, First Age

“Mind how much wine you drink,” Amathlan frets over her in a low tone as they approach the large hall of the House of The Heavenly Arch. “And we are only staying as long as I shall be performing!” 

“Why are you a healer?” I ask Nestorion one afternoon as he treats the wound on my abdomen with the given grace and learned skill to be expected from the elves. He raises his gaze to meet mine, staying silent until he is through with his work.

Lorien, T.A. ; the past