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Ariann, weary of her restless wandering, settled herself on one of the plush meadows, the grass sensuously curling itself around her barely clad form.
"I think I'll stay here awhile," she murmured to the toadstools.
Her eyelids slid closed and she dreamt of times long past, when her soul had known true freedom and the joy of irresponsibility...

“If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?”
{Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass}

[Photos taken at the marvelous Zweet ZurroundingZ: ZurroundingZ]
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The air tasted somewhat forlorn and although the majesty of Celeborn and Galadriel's realm was still evident, the mossy forest scent told tales of the decay of the Golden Woods since the Elves who had dwelt there returned to the West.
Elbereth was grateful for the stillness and memories of dancing and feasting as the moonshine pierced the leafy canopy overhead elevated her spirits.
She missed Galadriel dearly, the Lady of Lorien had been generous with her knowledge and time and Elbereth had learnt most of what she knew of Middle Earth from her.

She had fled Tavrobel.
True, she had consulted her scrying waters to be certain that Tirion's return from the Shire was only a matter of hours away, but then she had fetched her horse and headed eastward at speed. She let out a sob. The encounter with the Woodland King had left her bewildered and she had sought out the tranquility of Lothlorien.
Telvolas had left her and returned to Dorthonion, but he was awaiting her response and demanding she acknowledge that which bound them...

She buried her face in the warm coat of the impressive stallion beside her, her brow creased with anxiety... How long did she still have? Which path should she take? Why had this happened to her at all?
Elbereth sighed, maybe coming here had not been such a good idea... the fading of the Elves could be felt strongly among these blessed trees and they whispered softly to her that any guidance from Galadriel was irrevocably lost.

(Photo taken @ the glorious WesLorien's ElvenWoods:

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Elbereth reclined on a chaise in her dwelling, resting her head on her hand, which she noted, was still shaking...
The tinkling sound of the creek soothed her slowly as she watched the water lazily winding its way into the pond as her whirling thoughts relived the happenings of the time just after the sun had risen...
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Slowly emerging from her reverie, Elbereth sat upon the bloom filled grass and gazed solemly upon the statue of Yavanna in the flowering grove. As the rose coloured dawn kissed the uppermost branches of the many trees in the woods surrounding Tavrobel, she felt forlorn.
No whisperings, no dream messages, no words of wisdom had breached her consciousness during the night.
She knew that she had been watched from dusk till dawn and she sighed softly, knowing that the guardian of her rest did not intend leaving this day without meeting with her.
His mind whirled with questions. Some she could answer, many she could not.

Arising from the sanctuary of the grove, she wandered quietly to her scrying pavilion.. her last hope of gaining understanding or foresight before the unavoidable encounter.
Elbereth felt the vulnerability of humanity weigh her down. Elves were less susceptible to feelings of fear or uncertainty and she shook her head in wonder at the emotional strength of men. Their lives were short and yet they accepted the presence of darkness and light, joy and sadness, love and loss in this world and strived to divine the meaning of it all. Her uneasiness right now threatened to crush her.

Upon reaching the pavilion she turned, sensing the approach of her visitor sooner than she had expected. His impatience was tangible.
She sighed and cleared her mind, approaching the scrying waters with apprehension and her agitation was visible in the taut line of her shoulders and the frown that had settled on her brow...

To be cont.
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Someplace that took up way too much of my time today... nicely decorated though and how I do like free gifties! ;D

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When a certain Faerie gets very bored, she builds her own Rivendell... as one does!

Inspiration was found by watching The Hobbit (once again) and flitting about Imladris (
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Monsters tend to arise more easily when one seeks solitude... when the shadows lengthen and the stillness provides no more comfort, but instead creeps into the hidden crevices of your pysche...
Etain sobbed into the sand under the fast fading stars. Memories scorched her mind and she was shaking uncontrollably.
No! No! I had put this all behind me, she wailed to the disappearing moon.
Her thougths were stricken with visions of her enslavement.
Locked in a cage, magick barring her from any movement, other than those which he commanded. She shuddered. He was sinister and malevolent. He had tempted her away from the Golden Court with his twisted tales of love and freedom.
Teardrops slid down her face like a waterfall, resting momentarily on her chin before falling and seeping into the cool, moist sand below. Etain wrapped her arms around her knees and fought the onslaught of recollections that threatened to overwhelm her.
"Nothing more than a possessive, oppressive tyrant!", she spat. Her shoulders hardened as she recalled his tormenting ways. The dark magick he called upon to twist her exhausted body to stand or fall at his will. The threats to clip her wings forever is she attempted to escape him. The sickening fantasies he shared with her, his plans for their life together. His total domination over her.

A harsh laugh escaped her lips and her eyes narrowed maniacally.

But, he had learnt his lesson.
She had warned him not to underestimate her. He had done just that and he had paid the price... as the suffocating air in the dungeon grew thinner and the walls were bathed in a supernatural blue hue ~ precisely the colour of her eyes.

Etain moaned sadly. Her path had led her to darkness. She had turned her back on her Golden faerie kin and had hid herself away many long ages.
Now the Unseelie Queen had her fealty, if not her devotion. She preferred to be alone... but not quite so alone, not at the mercy of remembrance.
She rose swiftly, spilling sand in all directions and turned her back on her tropical hideaway, flying without pause towards Tir Ildathach in the hope of eluding her daemons.
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"I built a beach house this week, actually a whole sky box landscape..." she looked about proudly at the sleek modern structure before her eyes went all cloudy and she murmured, "I built a house to escape from... from...", only the gentle lapping of waves could be heard.
Etain rose dreamily from the sofa and entered her tropical hideaway.
What was it she was trying to avoid?
"Probably just that insufferable slimeball Gancanagh!", she grimaced and hopped onto a bar stool, talking to no one in particular.
There was no one there... that was the whole point of the exercise. It was a hideaway she had imagined and even if she couldn't quite remember what she was hiding from, at least it was peaceful here.

Maybe she should imagine herself a dolphin or a seal for company... someone to watch the stars with...
She shook her wings to clear her mind, then shrugged and thought better of it.
"No, I shall simply go count the waves and wait until the moon rises... the Queen probably isn't aware I am gone yet and those pesky goody-two-shoes faerie are surely out in force again. I shall remain here where it is tranquil and no one can nag me and keep a low profile."

She sauntered out of the glass door and plopped down in the sand.. her toes tickled deliciously by each recurring wave and she began to recite, "1... 2... 3..."
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The tale of the Awakening of the Elves as retold by Tirion, Lord of Tavrobel, was full of wonder, of newness and of joy. His deep, resonant voice vividly conjured images of new formed Elves opening their eyes on the verdant banks of Lake Cuiviénen and gazing first upon the sparkling illuminations which blanketed the skies above.
The Elves of Tavrobel surrounded Tirion, under the dazzling spectacle of countless falling stars.
Old and young, ageless beings of Eru's benevolence, they rejoiced in the beauty of their homeland, the tender kinship that bound them and the certainty that their beloved Valar yet watched over their fates... the wondrous phenomenon of stars streaking across the cosmos a sure sign from the revered Varda, Queen of Light and Lady of the Stars, that the Elves remained the cherished children of Eru Iluvatar.

Tirion and Elbereth wandered a spell beneath the shower of stars, past Elves singing sweetly or lost in dance. Tirion was bound for the southern borders of the Realm with a party of the youngest rangers on the morn. The time had come to visit the Shire, inquire as to the wellbeing of old friends and affirm the security of the region.
Elbereth listened quietly to his plans and agreed to remain in Tavrobel until his return. Yet even as she attended to his projects, her eyes wandered towards the falling orbs and she sighed sadly, memories of eons spent among the Kindler of the Stars bittersweet and filling her with longing.
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Gancanagh groaned. Pounding waves of pain made opening his eyes no option. He marveled that even the tips of his antlers hurt... that was some full moon. Three days of manic mischief-making across the realm does take its toll and even after countless ages, he had still not learned to keep his hands off that potent human ale.
A smile flashed across Gancanagh's face... at least the ale had a way of making human women all giggly and flirty. He grinned as he recalled the moonlight cavorting with three comely lasses from the village of Annwn. Nope, all in all, a rather memorable full moon this time round. If only the human alcohol didn't have a way of fogging his brain and causing his horns to ache!

He rolled onto his back, the summer blooms providing a soft, pungent mattress and listened for the chatter of his faerie kin.
Suddenly his eyes shot open and he bolted into a sitting position. It was dark, yet the sky was alight with stars streaming in all directions across the hemisphere.

"*!&%$*," Gancanagh blasted a juicy expletive towards the surprised squirrels scurrying about amongst the trees. "I nearly slept through the annual meteor deluge!"
He jumped to his feet, glancing about at the empty throne of Queen Orlaith and wondered how many nights he had missed of this annual celestial occurance and where she was celebrating the star rainshower this year. It always put her in a good mood and she tended to be more indulgent when in a good mood. He paused for a moment and then took off at windspeed towards the clifftops at the centre of the Fae Realm in hope that there was still time to luxuriate in the goodwill of the capricious Faerie Queen.
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