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[Open] Ready to Start the Conquest of Spaces

WHO: Haldir
WHAT: Haldir is having a hard time going from the Utopia that was Lorien, to the S*ithole that is Kirkwall
WHEN: This month and the next
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: None at the moment!

I. The Only Tree Kirkwall

Haldir wandered Kirkwall for several days, trying very hard to make sense of it all. In Lorien, everyone had a purpose, a place. In Kirkwall however, it seemed like no one did. There were a handful men grasping at threads of power, climbing and pushing over one another for a chance to climb the next rung of the social ladder, while majority of the population lived in squalor, fighting over table scraps dressed up and sold to them as a full meal.

Besides the political and social climates, the overall structure of city was dreary to say the least. The walls looked to be little more than mud, mortar, and iron spikes slapped upon walls haphazardly. There was no thought to the lines of houses, to their architecture. It was just box, after box, after box. The walls seemed to close in on him, so he mostly spent times on the rooftops. It was easier to for him to move from place to place, especially at night. It seemed like every night, one gang or another converged on anyone who ventured out. Dealing with these ruffians was becoming far too inconvenient as it added at least 10 minutes onto every journey he made. Rooftops were much faster by far.

There also was very little in the way of greenery. In Darktown, Lowtown, and a place lovingly referred to as the Gallows, there wasn’t a speck of anything green anywhere. Hightown had some shrubs, and a few “trees” hardly taller than he was. In his wanderings on the first day, he came upon a large tree. Well, large in terms of what could be compared to in Kirkwall. In Lorien it wouldn’t be considered much more than a seedling. But, it had been far to long since he had stood under the calming shadow of a tree, or heard leaves whisper on a breeze. The residents here, who also were called elves for a reason Haldir couldn’t explain given their differences, had painted the bottom of the tree red, with curling white filigree. It obviously held a great amount of significance to these people, so out of politeness, he did not climb it even though he wanted nothing more than to feel the cradle of it’s limbs under him. So, he came every day, just to stand under it. As he was doing right now.

II. The Wounded Coast

Haldir thought he’d never be able to hear the ocean again. He needed to get away from Kirkwall for a while, and so he just walked. He followed his feet, letting them take him where they would. He came upon a bluff, and his nose was hit with the smell of salt and seaweed. He took a deeper breath, and followed the bluff down to the coast.

He toed off his boots, letting feet shift into the sand as the waves lapped at them. He hissed at the cold, but couldn’t pull himself out of it. He let his eyes drink in the sweeping seascape, and he felt like he could finally breathe for the first time since coming to this forsaken place. With no purpose, and no home, he felt more wraith than elf. He swathed himself in the cover of his cloak, just wandering, watching, existing. A ship without a rudder or sail. He turned left to look at the towering rock pillars that had slowly been eroded by the churning sea. He scooped up his boots, and then climbed the rock, very carefully due to the slippery surface. Once up on the rock, he sat and watched, finally feeling like Haldir again.

III. Speak Friend and Enter!

Got a random scenario? Wanna go climb some shit? Get a drink? Let’s talk. Haldir needs some friends.

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"It is called a vhenadahl. It serves as a symbol of Arlathan, the first elven homeland."

The soft-spoken voice comes from a slight, pale elven woman not even five feet tall. Clad in armor and carrying a staff, she couldn't stand out more from the alienage inhabitants if she tried. The large hound at her side certainly doesn't negate that impression, though he seems calm and friendly enough, wagging his tail at the newcomer. His mistress eyes their company with wary curiosity, a bit protective over people that are no longer truly hers but also keeping in mind that the rifter is new and out of his element. She's not unsympathetic in light of such circumstances.

Haldir isn't the only one running along rooftops. Ellana is up here too, practicing her parkour. She's still a beginner, but at least she's able to scale walls without her wrists wanting to detach from her body and run away before she can torture them any more. Strength has built up in her hands and arms these last few months, and she proudly sits atop a roof, legs hanging over as she observes the city below her. It's only the brief movement of someone up there with her that has her snapping her attention towards him, ready to use magic to go invisible at a moment's notice, should he be a threat. But then she recognizes him -- vaguely, of course, since they haven't been introduced -- and her posture relaxes.

"Oh, hello. You came into Thedas with Lady Galadriel, didn't you? I'm Ellana. I knew her the first time she was here."

"The sea calls to you too, I see!"

Elros hails him from where he's got a fishing line set up, although he looks more like he's dozing than actually fishing.

He keeps his face impartial while he looks over to asses the speaker. At first glance, he thought they must be a halfling of some sort, like the ones Estel had brought with him the last time he came to Lorien. But, it would seem this land had no halflings, at least none of the admittedly few people he'd asked had heard of them. One of the this land's elves then? He wondered why this one was so slight. Sickness as a child perhaps? He remembered Estel had mentioned something akin to that effecting men. Perhaps such a thing had befallen them too. Either way, he was at least 2 feet taller than they were.

He looked back to the tree, in thought. "If they are of importance, more should be planted. How long has it taken for this one to grow to it's current size?"

Haldir cocks his head slightly to the left. He hadn't expected anyone to be using the same mode of travel as he, but if he saw the value in it, it wasn't surprising that someone else had too. He stood where he was with his feet planted firmly on the roof, She had claimed this space as her own, and he would not invade that unless invited.

"I have heard of the assistance you gave my Lady. For that, I thank you." He nodded his head, and bowed ever so slightly at the waist. "You aided her when I could not. An action I do not take lightly. If ever I may repay those actions, you have but to ask."

Haldir lets out a soft chuckle, and moves his direction, heart lightening. His easy manner reminded him more and more of Estel. Although they had never been as close as he was with Legolas, he still counted him in the few people he would call a friend. He hoped he could also do so with Elros in the future.

"You know us Silvans." He said with a shrug and shy grin once he was standing next to him. "Always were ones to admire landscapes. May I sit with you? Or would you rather scare off all the fish?"

He laughs and sits up a bit, gesturing to the spot next to him.

"By all means, come and sit! I'm not catching much at the moment, anyway - if there is even anything to catch, this close to shore! How are you finding yourself?"

She automatically straightens upon being assessed; her height will never be impressive but she'll make the most of what she does have. Her companion does likewise, though he's already a large hound and doesn't need to appear any more impressive. A thin smile forms as she holds back thoughts better unvoiced; this elf is new, out of his element. She can give some leeway based on that.

"I can't say, Kirkwall's alienage is not the one in which I was raised. It's quite likely several generations have come and gone since its planting. As for more, that would require space alienages simply do not possess. That there is even one is a luxury, and some do not even have that."

A smile breaks out across her face and she pats the spot beside her.

"I wouldn't ask for much," she explains. "But you could repay me now -- if you're not busy -- by telling me about yourself. I love hearing about Middle-earth, but I know there's both good and bad." Because Galadriel once told her of the Kinslaying, of Fëanor and his sons and their terrible Oath. Ellana knows that Middle-earth isn't an idyllic place, but Caras Galadhon sounds as close as a person could get. And since she can't visit it herself, she has to rely on stories.

His throat tightened a little at the thought of his home, but her request was one he could grant easily. With a shy nod, he took a few steps forward, but still kept a polite distance.

"If that is your desire. Although, I am not nearly as old as the other Quendi you may have met. Their experiences have been far more...colorful... than my own." He shuffled one of his feet a little, and rested an arm on his sword's pommel. "What is it you would like to know?"

He goes where he is invited, sitting cross legged next to the other. He took a small moment, wondering if Elros every felt as homesick as he did. He seemed to be the sort to slip easily into new situations. He was more than a little envious. "I am better now. How do you fair?"

Since he keeps his distance, she turns her body instead, pulling her legs up from the edge and scooting in a few feet before crossing her legs and settling in, an eager look on her face.

"That's all right! In fact, it's kind of refreshing. When you meet people thousands of years old, it can feel a little intimidating. Let's start with age. I'm twenty-eight years old. How old are you?"

"Eh, well enough."

He shrugs.

"I miss being able to come down to the shore and talk to Osse or Uinen or Ulmo, though. I was only just getting used to not being able to hear the Song of the water, and now I can't even talk to it's lords. It's a bit lonely, if I'm honest."

Haildir swallows hard, and stiffens at her comment. He had no idea what the lifespan of the elves here were exactly, but obviously if a thousand years of life was considered ridiculous, then they must be short indeed. He then panics, thinking this person would indeed feel intimidated by him. Galadriel had said that he could be quite terrifying at times, and sometimes without quite meaning to be. But, he would not lie to her.

"I am six....thousand... years old. Give or take." He cleared his throat, and anxiously awaited her response.

Her answer was vauge, wheather it be on purpose or not he did not know. He knew these elves were mortal, but he had no idea how long their lifespans were, so guadging the age of this tree by generations didn't really clarify anything.

He knew not what had motivated her to speak with him. Her outward mannerisms spoke of distrust; stiffening of the body after he spoke, followed by a tight lipped smile. He didn't know what it was about his interest in this tree would cause such a reaction.

"Cuttings could be taken and given to those who are without." He suggested. "With care they would take root quickly."

Ellana's green eyes widen in alarm, and her already pale skin gets even whiter as she realizes she really said the wrong thing here. Of course she would say thousands of years was intimidating to someone who was thousands of years old. That's just her making a fool of herself. Why does she never learn?

But what does one do when they've said such a thing? A hand curls up against her mouth as she debates what to say, but then a giggle surfaces completed unbidden and she presses her hands to her cheeks.

"Oh, I've really stuck my foot in my mouth, haven't I? I didn't mean to make it sound bad. It's not; it's different. No one here lives very long, so the world changes a lot in that time and we only have stories to know what it was like before. But time to you and Galadriel and all your people, it must feel different to you." Her hands slide away to reveal a pink flush of embarrassment.

"I really would be interested to hear more about your world from your perspective, I mean, six thousand years old? You don't look a day over one thousand." Which is her attempt at a joke, to try and lighten the mood. Besides, he does look good for his age. In Thedas standards, he doesn't look a day over thirty, but she doesn't say that, because what if thirty to him is still a child? No need to stick her foot in even farther.

That is a fair point, and her expression softens as she stares up at the great tree's branches. "They could, for those alienages who still honor such things. Not all still do. Some lack the room, or the attachment to the distant past." But she's grateful that one remains in Kirkwall and it shows. Perhaps her own attachment to it is some explanation in itself.

Her hound approaches, lacking his mistresses' reserve. He sniffs at the very tall elf, then lets out a soft woof of greeting, wagging his tail again. Friend? His demeanor seems to have an effect on her own, and the tension in her shoulders eases somewhat. "He means no harm...nor do I. This alienage may not be my own, but I am a city elf by origin. The vhenadahl brings out a certain protectiveness in me."

Last time Yngvi had been to the Wounded Coast there had been more Tal-Vashoth, the angry kind, the freshly free of the Qun kind still with their vitaar in angry stripes ready to spring out and attack if you thought about taking the scenic route back to Kirkwall. Strange for it to be quiet, downright disturbing for there to be nothing leaping out at him but he makes his way down to the shoreline quite easily.

Easily being a relative term, leaving his room or leaving the Vauquelin estate both being things requiring more effort than he likes to put too much thought into but eventually questions are going to get asked if he's not pulling his weight with the scouting so here he is. Out. About.

Four nugs scurrying along ahead and the slap-slap-slap of a goose. It rears, honking and hissing violently when it catches sight of Haldir, the nugs roll in the sand to leave the dwarf to make a grab for the goose.

"It's water! There's plenty of it will you stop making that noise?"

Saoirse, more or less, lives in the alienage when she is not working within the Gallows. She helps the people ready for the winter: repairing home, knitting warmer clothes and helping to store the food gathered from the small garden spaces allotted to them. Her trip to the vhenadahl is also a daily tradition, sitting in silence and simply enjoying the safety she felt near it.

She had noted the unfamiliar face day after day, leaving him to his own silence but after a few days of this she cannot help finally speaking out to him one day:

"Oh! You're back again today, hello." It is said with a warm smile, wildflowers in her lap and more in her hands as she slowly weaves them into a crown.

Her reaction was not what he had expected at all. Her embarrassment seemed genuine, and she hadn't given off any feelings of resentment or anger at his confession. His interactions with the citizens of Kirkwall were uneventful at best, and they often kept their distance and chose not to interact at all.

Ellana's was very different from the others. Refreshingly different. Although, why she would be interested in his history instead of the other Eldar with more colorful and interesting pasts he did not know. But, if she had interest, he would tell her what she wished, although it would take some time he supposed.

He moved to sit on the edge of the roof, still keeping a respectful distance, but he hoped it created a more friendly atmosphere. "6,000 years is considered young among my kind. Of the other Eldar here, I am the youngest." He paused and looked out at the landscape before him.

"What has my Lady told you of our home?" He asked as he looked at her with another shy smile. He did not wish to bore her with information she already knew, and wanted to get a sense of what Galadriel had trusted her with. If she withheld anything from her, there probably was reason for it.

Edited 2017-12-09 21:53 (UTC)

His comment caused Haldir to look up at him in awe and a little shock. He still talked to the lords? He sighed, and looked back toward the sea again.

"I know the feeling. The forest and animals here have different songs. I can hear them, but know not what they say." He paused, hoping Lord Elros didn't mind him confiding in him. "It has been... hard for me lately. Kirkwall is very different from Lorien. I miss my forests, my home...my purpose."

Haldir turned at the sound of honking, and felt a wave of amusement at the site of a dwarf, (it appeared to be a dwarf although he lacked the long beard, trying to rangle a goose and a creature he'd never seen before. Most of it's appearance resembled that of a pig, but it had pointed ears of a hare, and small whiskers.

He waited, curious to see what this dwarf was up to.

Edited 2017-12-09 23:14 (UTC)

"I should have realized. Your people have seen Ages come and go. The elves here used to be immortal -- or so it's said -- but not anymore." And while she'll gladly tell him all he wishes to know about Thedosian elves (as she told Galadriel before him), she wants to know about him right now.

"She's told me a great deal! Let's see... she spoke of Aman and the light of the Two Trees, and how Morgoth and his monster destroyed them. And how Fëanor had their light in the Silmarils, but he refused to share them to restore the light. And then Morgoth stole them, and Fëanor and his sons swore their Oath, and that led to the Kinslaying." There's a brief pause as she collects her thoughts. The idea of elves killing elves had seemed horrifying to Ellana, but Fëanor was selfish and that led him down a terrible path. It's a sad story that could play out anywhere.

"Galadriel told me good things too. She told me of the Valar, and of the elves who saw the Trees' light and those who didn't: the Moriquendi. She said I'd be considered that too since I'd never seen the light from the Trees." Not from the Trees, no, but she has seen the light, as Galadriel entrusted her with the Light of Eärendil the first time she was here. That, however, is something she hasn't shared with anybody, and she decides to remain cautious now and wait to see if Galadriel thinks that fact should be shared.

"She's taught me a little bit of Sindarin too, and I've taught her some elvhen." As she's sure other elves here have too. "I know Mae govannen, mellon nin, um, Ilúvamillë means All-Mother." There are others, but she won't wrack her brain to bring them forward now. "She's told me of Lothlórien and her garden there. Oh! I learned that in your world, the Eldar don't sleep, only take their rest. Here we sleep and dream. I'm afraid you will too, eventually. It took Galadriel a couple of weeks, but eventually she was so weary she needed to, so I had to teach her how." And wasn't that a strange thing, explaining the act of falling asleep to one who never had before.

"But I think that's a pretty good overview of what I know. Now I'd like to know about you, and your place in the world. If that's all right, of course." Ellana sees that shy smile, and hopes to get him to open up without being too pushy in doing so. He can't know how curious she is, and how much she desires to know about things beyond her experience.

He listened to her patiently, smiling again at her animation and excitement as she spoke. If Galadriel had told her she would be one of the Moriuendi, she must hold her in high esteem indeed.

"It has been hard for me to adapt to the necessity of eating and sleeping. I will admit, I was most reluctant to sleep at first after the concept was explained to me." He chuckled softly, and then continued.

"I too am one of the Moriquendi, as it happens. And she must think highly of you if she recognized you as one of our own. My lady doesn't bestow her faith in the undeserving, so take heart in that. She must see a great strength of spirit in you, for she has little time for those who do not."

"As for myself, I am a Silvan elf, not one Gódhellim, like my Lady, Lord Thranduil, or the Feanorians. Silvan elves are better known for their skill with a blade or bow rather than their skill with their whits. And as much as I'd like to say the assumption is inaccurate, if you ever met my brothers there would be no denying it. They are far from imaginative thinkers."

"Lorien was my home, and very much my haven." His throat got a little tight thinking about it, the grief at loosing it I was still fresh. "When I close my eyes and I can still feel the sun poking in through the dense leaves, hear the woods creaking and and animals scurrying about. Caras Galadhon, the great capital, was built within and around the trees. Very different from here." He swallowed, a little harder than he wanted.

"I was the Commander of Galadhrim. We protected Lorien's borders and were Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn's arms, eyes, and ears. We were the best archers in all of Arda, although do not tell Lord Thranduil that. Tis a sore subject for the Mirkwood Elves, as we usually trounced them whenever our skills were tested." He let out a chuckle, and rubbed the back of his neck a little.

"I must admit my past to be quite lackluster compared to the others. I was happy protecting my home, and serving my lady. What else would you know?"

He turned to the speaker, looking her over as she sat. He watched her deft fingers weaving the flowers together in curiosity. Most hadn't taken notice of him, and those that had seemed to find his presence an intrusion. A friendly greeting was not something he had expected. He turned towards her, and inclined his head in acknowledgement and appriciation.

"Hello. I was unaware my presence was of much notice. I hope I am not intruding. I..." he cleared his throat. "I will go if it causes discomfort."

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[Open] Ready to Start the Conquest of Spaces

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II duh XD

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Oh dear....

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She's ruined it ;_;

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ii;

i

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Re: ii;

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