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Glorfindel of Imladris

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Lurking, in the halls [24 Apr 2003|08:16pm]
[ mood | restless ]

((OOC: Fyre here - taking Glorfindel on and this is on the night of... well... everything: Legolas/Haldir cheating on each other and shagging silly, Boromir's (eternal) confusion, Galadriel's pissyness. Hope you like the way I play the boy ;) And Collie, m'dear, you wanted a scene with me (although God knows why), you got one!))


Roused from his sleep by a feeling of... uncertain fear and anger, Glorfindel once more wondered if he had chosen wisely to remain in Gondor. Rising from his bed, the chill of the night casting a light wash across his skin, he captured a fallen shirt from the back of his chair, drawing it on over his bare skin, his hair cascading in a golden flood down his back.

Moving to the open window, his arms folding upon his chest, Glorfindel closed his eyes, bowing his head, and allowed his senses to reach beyond the confines of his chambers to seek out the source of the feelings that troubled him.

His eyes opened sharply, recognising the displeasure of the Lady of the Galadhrim. What, he wondered, could have driven her to ire? Letting his senses flow further, traces of anger and fear ebbed around him, all edged with the emotion of the Galadhrim. Glorfindel's brow furrowed. How very unusual.

Outside of his chambers, something clattered and he whipped around, immediatelly checking himself with a chastising laugh. "You are too wary," he chastised himself. "To oft you jump at the tread of a child, fearing the steps of a troll."

Making his way towards the door, he felt a smile lifting his lips, recognising the voices beyond. Elladan and Elrohir, the sons of Elrond. Who else would deign to crash around the halls of the keep, while others desired to find slumber? Perhaps, he mused, they required some lesson in respect.

He drew the door open, slipping out and girding himself in the shadows, soundless as he made his way in the direction of the twins' voices.

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::in the courtyard:: [08 Mar 2003|03:58pm]
[ mood | calm ]

::of the palace, sitting in a shady corner with his feet tucked beneath him and reading a book that is open on his lap, about the histories of Gondor, remembers some of these things, but not all of them, trying to put into perspective some of the feelings he's been having lately::

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::wandering:: [04 Mar 2003|05:41pm]
[ mood | pensive ]

::having left Elrond to his own thoughts, although secretly those thoughts also trouble Glorfindel for different reasons, he walks slowly around the courtyard on the highest level of Minas Tirith, looking at the lands around him and contemplating his past and his future, of what had happened in the aftermath the first time he drew swords with Men, and how unfortunately right he had been about the Witch King... he is having one of those feelings again, and is attempting to clear his mind and let it come as his other prophecies have, but it is not coming... he does not force it but lets it rest in his mind, finding a place near a tree bearing a few scattered green leaves, sighing longingly and sitting beneath it to meditate::

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::walking through the gardens of Imladris:: [22 Feb 2003|10:10pm]
[ mood | pensive ]

::humming a quiet song that he is composing in his mind, watching as more of Elrond's household pack to leave for the Undying Lands, still considering in his own mind whether or not he will make the journey, if there is anything left for him here in this world where his people are fading, his deeds no longer matter, for their memories travel over the seas, and the splendor of life as he has known it will soon be gone::

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