The fire of their hearts was young (open)

[inafadingcrown]

Date & Time: Starting Jan 19th, extending a couple of days. Vague vaguery
Location: See subsections
Characters: Aged-down Galadriel (AKA Artanis) and whoever
Summary: Artanis attempts to explore Exsilium and wrap her head around everything that's going on.

[To say that Artanis was not pleased with these developments would be an understatement. She’s found herself thrust into a strange world- yet another set of customs and rules she would have to learn- told that she’s to fight someone else’s war, and then comes across a child who is convinced that she is her mother.

It’s been a long day.

So, after ensuring that Celebrían was well cared for, she set out to explore Exsilium- a task that will occupy her for the next few days.]

[ooc: This is Galadriel (although she hasn't been named that yet) aged down to sometime during her first few months in Doriath. Using the same account and icons because lol immortality. Sections up.]

Comments

Around Town

[inafadingcrown]

[A thorough exploration of the area surrounding the Hold seems to be in order. She moves silently but quickly, the speed of her steps increasing to match the flurry of thoughts in her head. Those who know her might notice the change in how she carries herself-- there’s been a lessening of that gravitas, certainly. Those who don’t know her will only see an elf who obviously has quite a bit on her mind.]

Re: Around Town

[mushroomthief]

His first real, right-in-front-of-him elf! It was only a glimpse of soft light through the buildings that got his attention. And when Frodo saw her, even that peek of her walking through the Hold, he found himself staring in wonder. So this was what an elf looked like.

Frodo followed after her, trying his best to keep up and keep her in sight. He flit from one shadow and alcove to the next, trying to be so very silent, for it felt like she might vanish as suddenly as a bird that has been startled. The hobbit earned himself a few nicks and cuts, even a scrape on the knee in the process, but Frodo hardly noticed a thing. He had to follow her. Maybe even talk to her!

And it is then, when he rounded a corner, that he found himself with a fence made of chains and links between them, and nowhere tall enough for him to climb it. He would lose her at this rate! Frodo's voice rang out, high and shrill as he called out to her.

"Wait! Please wait!"

[inafadingcrown]

That little voice caught her off guard, something that rarely happens. Perhaps she was too deep in her own thoughts to notice him, or perhaps it's simply that hobbits are very good at not being noticed when they wish to be, but she had not realized she had a little shadow until that moment.

And what a little shadow he was. It was curiosity as much as courtesy that made Artanis approach.

"You wish to speak to me?"

[mushroomthief]

Frodo came up to the very fence, fingers laced through the gaps, the metal digging into his palms, but that was the furthest he could go. She was so tall and kind looking, and so very golden and silver. Oh, she was so pretty, like a clear night sky with a wide band of milky stars across the deep blue! He had thought the Shire and Buckland beautiful, but now, deep down, after seeing an elf, there was no going back.

The hobbit became all too aware of how messy he looked in return. Suddenly, and for his age, he felt unusually self-conscious of himself and the state he was in. Frodo rubbed at the dirt on his cheek, tried to scrub away some of the fresh cuts and scrapes. It only succeeded in smearing it around.

"I-I-" Frodo found his tongue rather tied, and his voice so very small and squeaky compared to how deep and smooth her voice was. The color rose to his face. He had shouted at her, desperately even, and now he couldn't think of what to say. Frodo bit his lip, how very silly he was! He ducked his head.

[spellscry]

[Belth probably shouldn't be out here by himself. He's all of a couple feet tall, but he's terribly curious about where he is. And he wants to find his sister.

As he rounds a corner, he sees a figure as pale as moonlight with gorgeous blonde hair. The absence of the long ears doesn't hit him until after he's called out, a bit unsure--]

Mother?

[But his mother has been dead a long time. He stops, looking distinctly miserable.]

[inafadingcrown]

[It takes her a moment to respond because, at this point in her life, she's not anyone's mother (although a small child here insists otherwise). But she can't ignore that tiny figure, especially not looking as downtrodden as he does.]

I am sorry I am not she, little one.

[And she means it. She may be older, but, having recently been banished from her homeland, she feels the pain of separation keenly right now. It's just starting to sink in, really.]

[elfmutt]

That walk is a walk he's rather familiar with. He's seen that sort of air among the elves he's been around or it's more hurried and less calm then he had grown used to when he had been home. But then he pushes thoughts of home away as that won't help him here.

No, he has a tall she-elf to follow and if he has learned anything recently it's how to follow people around and try and not get noticed.

Except that had been on ground he knew wouldn't shift like the bit of rubble he found to stand on and watch her and next thing he knows he's tumbling to the ground and landing a few feet behind her, letting out a startled yelp as he rolls onto his back. Such a graceful elf.

[inafadingcrown]

She whirls around, ready to shoot an accusing look at whoever dared follow her- only to be confronted with the rather comical sight of a disheveled young elf. Well. She would have mercy on him.

"It is usually considered polite to begin an acquaintance with an introduction."

But then again, there was no harm in rebuking him a little either.

[priad]

[ Someone isn't any younger. Just more grim. He looks down at Artanis from his gigantic height with contempt in the stare, despite his masked appearance. ]

[inafadingcrown]

[She can feel that contempt. Don't think she can't. She turns and glares right back at him, his height not withstanding.]

If you have grievance with me, air it.

whoops. first one got posted to the wrong spot. sorry!

[werycherk]

[He's heard before she sees him, probably, with bare feet slapping on the wet ground in a furious tattoo. That, and the fact that he's yelling at the top of his seven year old lungs. In English and Yurok both, but the way he is shouting would probably lend them meaning even to someone who knew neither language. "Mom" and "Dad." He sounds panicked, and looks it too, with a few tears streaming down his face.

He also isn't paying the strictest attention to where he's going, and so nearly crashes into her, which at least slows him down.]

Sorry!

No worries!

[inafadingcrown]

[She dodges him, elven reflexes kicking in at the last second. If it had been almost anyone else she might have snapped at them...but even in her rather foul mood, Artanis can't be cross with a child obviously in distress. Her brow furrows as she looks down at him.]

It is alright, child. Be calm.

tenative late tag omg

[wearsblack]

[Teravian spots her and quickly moves to shadow her as is his habit. The urgency of her bearing doesn't quite fit her demeanor the last two time they had spoken, so before long he heads her off to find out why]

Where are you going to in such a hurry?

I will always take late tags from you <3

[inafadingcrown]

[Artanis gives a little irritated huff. When did it become acceptable for strangers to trail ladies in the streets?]

And what concern is it of yours?

A training room in the Hold

[inafadingcrown]

[It had seemed like a good way to work off nervous energy at first. She was a natural athlete, strong and swift. But when she finally did make her way to the training room with her sword, she found herself sitting on a bench, staring at the sheath. She couldn’t bring herself to draw it. The sight and sound of steel, the movements that practice would entail- it would bring her back to Alqualondë, she feared. And while she would not forget- would not allow herself to bury the memories- she would rather not bring them to the forefront. It was still too fresh.

Eventually, she shoves the weapon aside and goes to examine the other equipment provided by the Initiative. She was thinking too much.]

[lepetitvoleur]

<sub>( In his exploration of the Hold, Remy hadn’t really thought of training, much. The thought has crossed his mind that his father would be upset if he let such things slide, but he then quickly decided he had more pressing concerns. Still, in combing over every inch of the place, he eventually ends up in the Hold’s super-gym.

He’s not prepared for the sight of her, has never seen an elf or anyone who comes close. So, Remy, with all his boyish enthusiasm, stops in his tracks to gape at her for a moment. He’s always been partial to beautiful things, but she’s really beyond his scope of understanding. He’s been called a devil all his life, too, so the possibility that angels might also be real doesn’t seem entirely far-fetched.

Eventually, as she begins to walk away, he manages to call out— )</sub>

Is dere something wrong with your sword—ah, madame?

[inafadingcrown]

[She pauses, turning towards him almost sheepishly. She hadn't meant for anyone to see that- an open display of weakness, to her mind.]

The blade is in perfect condition; its bearer, less so. I find I have lost the will to wield it.

Re: A training room in the Hold

[kingdom_of_song]

[There's a young man here as well, flitting along the shelves and racks of weapons, fingers moving over each gun, axe, and who knows what these are. He has a banjo slung carelessly over one shoulder, hanging by a strap, and a hat plonked on his head. It doesn't quite fit him; his head is full of thick, brown curls. Getting a brush through them might be an interesting experience had by all.

[He turns quickly when she appears, a simple dirk in one hand, still sheathed.]

They expect us tae use this stoof, eh? Bit o'the fists always served me well.

[His brown eyes widen a bit as he takes her in and stares for a few beats.]

Blimey, yer a tall one.

[inafadingcrown]

[What a strange looking man. She's far too polite to say anything, of course, but she returns his stare for a moment before replying.]

Fists will serve you well enough until your opponents arm themselves with steel.

[That came out far more bitter than she intended it to. Oops. At least he's already provided her with a place to re-direct the conversation.]

A family trait. My brothers are tall also.

Transport Clinic

[inafadingcrown]

[She’s been here many, many times as Galadriel, but the clinic is a strange and foreign place to Artanis, albeit one that she was sure to investigate. Even at this young age, she’s a skilled healer, after all, and she’s not about to let her talents go to waste when she might be useful.

But when she enters, she’s immediately distracted by the equipment in the room. Anything new to her will be examined carefully and with the sort of enthusiasm found only in those who still believe they can learn all there is to know- usually, the rather young and exceedingly clever.]

[incorrupt]

[ Strange thing, this place. Sharpe is standing in front of a long mirror, looking at his back over and over again. He's seen the backs of men with flogging wounds, and all of them are messes, what with the crisscross of scars, the tiny lines of stitches. Sometimes there's even worse things when infections and such come into the skin. But Sharpe's back is entirely smooth, as if a whip hasn't touched it at all, and he grins slightly to himself.

He might be distracted, but Sharpe's a soldier and - more importantly - he's come from the streets, and new footsteps are something to be wary of. He turns around and- hah. It's a strange feeling, seeing a tiny face on this tablet thing and seeing a person in reality. (He's been looking from the tablet and finding himself once he's realised that woman who brought him here - her name's Mia - knows him from before, and when he's older, and ain't that a strange thought?)

She's tall, taller than he is, and Sharpe knows he's no shrimp. He walks over to his bed, swinging his legs over it and leaning back against the pillows. His head still needs to tip up further before he can find her face.

Now only if he can remember her name... Sharpe squints. ]

Those things are expensive, I think. Not very safe ta be touched. [ Dryly. ]

[inafadingcrown]

[She lowers her hand from whatever medical device she had been examining and glances over at him.]

I will take care. [Meaning, of course, that she'll touch what she likes regardless of who tells her otherwise.] I have seen nothing like it.

IDEK. Choose your own adventure

[inafadingcrown]

[For anything you want to thread out that I haven’t thought of.]

BY NATURE ?? / not in the town or hold or clinic

[uncalled_for]

Was there anywhere in this place that did not reek of grease and metals and shit? Some of it, Fiona was unsure what the smell truly was, all the more reason to distance herself from it or try to. Going further away from the town seemed to be the best choice to do so.

When she finally found some grass, she was well beyond the shops and the people. Still the smells lingered, but at least it was not nearly as strong. It was enough, however, to at least be able to take in a deep breath and pat off her white robes, as if wiping off the smells like dust. As she looked back up she caught sight of another close by. Likely one here for the same reasons, there hardly seemed to be anything else this far out of town. Still, it seemed no reason to bother them. Instead she walked by casually, at least in hopes of not disturbing the other from their solitude.

[inafadingcrown]

If the lack of greenery had been difficult for Galadriel before, it was much more so for Artanis. It had only been a few months since she was in Valinor, surrounded by that which would not die. And now she was here, in a world that seemed to her to be barely alive at all.

Even this little oasis seemed to be a miracle.

Artanis had been deep in her own thoughts when Fiona first made her appearance, but as the other elf moved past, the sound of footsteps drew her back to reality and turned to look at this newcomer.

Another elf. But one unlike any she had ever seen. She couldn't help but stare for a moment before she gathered her wits enough to offer a nod in greeting. Not the most elegant or dignified of hellos, but it will do.