thranduil oropherion (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rowancrowned) wrote2015-03-22 06:02 pm
rowancrowned) wrote2015-03-22 06:02 pm
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plucky is a noble and inimitable bird.
[ that is the first message. he pauses a moment before writing beneath. ]
I hesitate to explain the following to you, being that there is so much room for misunderstanding, but I will make an effort.
When Ilúvatar [ and for this he writes beautifully, delicate curving script, no common at all. ] sang the Great Music, he created the Ainur [ this he ecks out phonetically. ] The Valar [ again, written phonetically. ] were the fourteen most powerful, the firstborn of the One's thought. Later were born the Maiar [ you know the drill. ] who were less powerful, but still great enough to prove stronger and more clever than most of the elves.
The Valar ought to have numbered fifteen, but one turned from the path. I will not name him here; I will refer to him simply as the Foe. He ventured into the Void in search of that which makes us alive, the thing that gives us free will and the ability to make choices. He sought to have it for himself, though he did not find it. When the Music was sung, he in anger and in hatred sung in Discord with the Music. He was strong. None of the Valar were seduced, but some of the Maiar fell prey. They were twisted with hatred and rage into many things- dark things. Things that existed only to bring pain and foulness into the world.
One of these things were dragons; foul serpents of greed, of fire and ice and stone. An elf can heal from almost any wound, but dragon-fire is foul enough to scar forever, or at least until that elf is rebodied.
[ he needs to switch to a second page at this point. ]
The Ainur do not see sex as we do. They cannot beget children with their own kind though they may wed. Only one Maia has ever loved an elf, and I suspect she took a female form to please her husband, or even confined herself to a form at all. They chose a form for themselves upon hearing the Music and seeing what plans Ilúvatar had for the world, and he modeled elves upon himself. They made themselves look like us who Ilúvatar had crafted to look like them. But I do not believe dragons wed- I had not asked- and when I have seen them during my life I had other priorities than checking to see if they had sex organs.
But yes, they do speak freely, and being Maia, if corrupted, have minds far more finely tuned than any mortal, and many elves.
It is strange to see them here, so stupid and so easily slain, and breeding so freely.
in her heart she's just doing this trying to make sense of it all tbh
That they are capable of speech is a disturbing notion. There are some things that are: I have met an Elder Tree that spoke in verse, werewolves afflicted under a curse. An archdemon is able to control the Darkspawn through a song that they hear yet that is something else. Though that you mention a Great Music? I must wonder at it again. If there is more to it. Though I have never heard this song myself as I am in the fortunate position not to be a Darkspawn.
[But oh how she is going to have to ask Alistair a few awkward questions. For reasons. It's fine she can trap him in a room with Kieran, she's not above doing that but this certainly begs questioning, even if the false Calling matter has been put to bed.
Still, Thranduil is sharing, so she will share alike since she was in a rather singular position thanks to the start given to her by wishing to flee Flemeth, and the backing of an Empress who wished to know so much of a world almost none knew of at all.]
There is a Void in Thedas too - I wonder at the overlaps. The similarities. Fragments for the most; ancient tongues subject to the ravages of time are difficult to translate when the elves have split off as they have, and even among the Dalish they have few written records. They speak their language. They do not write it. All too easy for more and more to become lost again and again. The Dalish of course have their Dread Wolf who slew Mythal, the mother figure of their pantheon after tricking the rest of the Creators so if there is a foe to be found there then t'would be with him though he was rather more a trickster than what your words tell of the Foe among your Valar; and of course there are the Forgotten Ones. Little and less is known. For all that I have researched freely, without restriction? They have vanished.
I cannot imagine how it must be to know with such a certainty of the origins of how it came to be. Such struggle has come of these things in Thedas - how humans came to Thedas, how Arlathan fell, the truths of Andraste, the Qunari. On and on without end. There is the Chant of Light, of course, but I have never held much to that. And it says nothing of when humans came to these shores. Nor of the history of the elves. Or of the dwarves. Or the Qunari. Spirits were made by the Maker, His first children, though they were unable to create as any of us are, only able to imitate, and a spirit can all too readily become a demon or possess a person or a corpse under the right circumstances.
A second question: rebodied? I do not understand what you mean by that.
[Or...well she might. But she would like to have it confirmed before she makes a fool of herself.]
Tell me - when you speak of a Maia and a mortal lover, have you read heard the tale of Andruil and Ghilan'nain?
As for dragons, they were hunted near to extinction. The current age was named for them when at last one was sighted. An age of great upheaval. It has not disappointed thus far.
[Morrigan calm down.]
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My cousin and IThere is something wrong with the Grey Wardens. They are corrupted, a song- not the Song, but a song that is wrong and wretched coming from them. I understand you were among the group that dealt with the last Blight. I would be curious to know if this is recent.
I would not be surprised if it is the same Void- let there be only one well of nothingness. When the Song was sung and the Enemy gave voice to the discord, it is possible that worlds beyond Arda were made, a thousand thousand descants created by a moment of poorly directed Creation, and all of them now freely tumble and mix through the Rifts.
The Foe wished only for dominance and destruction. There was no subtlety to his mind, no paying of prices, no kindness to the weak or children. He bound back both sets of what the Dalish call gods, but took up no mantle himself. That is not what the Foe would have done.
Forgotten is forgotten. One purpose of the elves in Arda is to keep the histories, lest Men forget them. I mourn for all the libraries that might have been lost. I would be glad to tell you of what every elfling knows about the Creation; a gift freely offered without expectation of repayment. I would tell the elves wishing to know first, for you have less claim to our histories, but I respect your scholar's inclinations.
This is interesting news indeed, for the elves are known as the One's first children, and Men the second-born among my people. And as for reembodiment, I mean simply that. The flesh is weak and can be destroyed, but the spirit is eternal. This is when a new body is crafted for the elf that has- I suppose the best word is died, though a better one might be severed. One of the Valar crafts it as it was before the destruction, and then flesh and spirit are reunited.
[ very, very basic, because he's going to keep some things to himself. ]
No. I have not heard this tale. And I confess I cannot express equal joy for the reappearance. Though smaller and stupider, they can still burn farmstead and city alike to the ground.
no subject
Grey Wardens are secretive by nature, it is necessity. If you have questions of the Wardens and Blights other than the Fifth Blight, might I suggest you ask them yourself. Cup your hands over your ears if you must but expect little so you will not be disappointed.
[Morrigan can such more more than most about Darkspawn and Wardens, but this is out of a kindness to Alistair. She will keep his secrets because he is keeping hers.]
That is what I had wondered when so many have come. When demons are known by different names between such worlds then we could say that tis but the world that shapes the names, when we we understand the Fade, spirits, and demons so little. And dragons too. If not in the flesh then there are many worlds where they are there in their myths, or they write tales of them, I have been told that as well since first I asked. Perhaps you have not ventured so far, or none have told you but I shall, for I have: the ancient elves of Thedas left no roads. Make of that what you will.
[Smug. Smug snaking it up touching her eluvian. Can't be tamed. But you know if she has to wait last then you don't get to know about her eluvian more than whatever nonsense gossip is floating around, and she and Merrill have agreed to secrets.
For now. That's about to change but again probably more secrets. Maybe a giant spider glaring at people with eight eyes.]
When a person dies, tis said that they go to the Maker's side. Dwarves return to the stone. The Dalish plant a tree over their fallen though with their Creators being as they are, if they go to the Beyond as well, I cannot say. If one comes back, they are possessed. Spirits have always pressed close. Where there have been great battles - the Exalted Plains is a fine example - then corpses are possessed and continue on as they did before death, sword or bow in hand. Unless you are something like my mother, as I said, yet I do not know what she may be.
Andruil is the elven goddess of the hunt, and just as likely the goddess of sacrifice. In some legends she is daughter to Mythal and Elgar'nan whereas others paint her as a child of the earth though in all she is the creator of the Vir Tanadahl, the Way of the Three Trees, watching over the forest and teaching the elves to respect all that dwelt within. Andruil's chosen was a mortal elven woman, raised to godly rank when betrayed by another. Thus she became Ghilan'nain, the mother of halla.
There was a day when Ghilan'nain came across a hunter she knew not, this hunter having shot dead a hawk. Andruil watched over all animals as I have said, and taught all elves to respect them but the hawk was a favourite of hers, and so at the sight of Andruil's beloved bird lying slain, did rage fill Ghilan'nain's heart. She called upon her goddess to curse this hunter. Never again would he hunt and kill a living creature. Indeed, that curse took hold and the hunter found he was unable to hunt. Shame filled him. Vengeance soon filled the heart of this man and he swore he would find Ghilan'nain, that she would pay for what she had done. The hunter blinded her, bound her as one would a kill after the hunt yet the curse meant he could not kill her so he left her for dead in such a state. Ghilan'nain prayed to the gods that they might aid her in her darkest hour; Andruil was the one to come to the aid of her beloved. Hares did she send to chew through the ropes that bound her, but still was Ghilan'nain blind. And so she transformed her into a white deer, the first halla, and that is why she came to be known as the mother of halla.
As for dragons, well, this Age has not disappointed. I imagine t'would be far harder for my mother had they not returned too.
no subject
[ please imagine his tone for that sentence, spoken out loud. dry enough to catch fire off a particularly warm breeze. ]
But elves are elves wherever. I speak the word in my mother-tongue and you understand it as referring to the people who have pointed ears and whom the mortal death has no hold on. Even if the elven of Thedas have lost it, it will be returned to them. There is power in that, there is significance. And a lack of roads could mean many things, but I see the things that are accomplished by Craft in this world and can only come to the conclusion that they had no need of such things.
[ morrigan, stop having secrets with everyone but him. it makes him feel abstractly annoyed, even though he can't quite place why. ]
Whatever your mother is, I have questions for her. Why might the return of the dragons aid her?
These stories disgust me; I admit this freely. Kinslaying is a horrible crime, and to hear it spoken of so freely only further illustrates the state this world is in. These tales sound like the ways Men will recite deeds of their House generations after the battles or stories, when little of the truth is left.
no subject
Mankind has crushed so very much that it does not understand, and if it is not stopped, we will be left with only the mundane. That is what I seek to halt. I know this very much to be true.
You will recall that my mother can become a dragon? Imagine, whatever she might be in truth, how much harder t'would it be for her to disguise such a thing were the world emptied of them entirely? When dragons take to the skies again, she could indeed be but one of any of them. And when she is an old woman she is Flemeth. Flemeth of the legends or Flemeth of tales to frighten a disobedient child. Asha'bellanar to the Dalish. There are some here who have wondered if she might aid us now as she did the Hero of Ferelden and Champion of Kirkwall before they wore such lofty titles and I say this: when a woman such as that offers aid, she does not do it out of charity, or the goodness of her heart. She knows nothing of these things.
A tale such as the one I have told is one oft recited among the Dalish, and one that hunters indeed hold particularly dear to them. They have carried it a long time, when she is the mother of halla. Fen'harel's teeth is not solely reserved for shemlen with some clans. You might think elves are elves, but you are a rifter, stranger to them than the flat ears in the cities.
no subject
Altruism is possible, even past a certain age. Her motivations are likely longer-reaching than are possible for you to see as you are, without full knowledge of her past.
[ she's an intelligent woman. she'll catch onto what he's not saying about himself and his plans. it's not wholly territorial- in fifty years, in a century, in two, he'll have what he wants, which happens to dovetail neatly with what she wants, in a way. ]
Given time, the abnormal becomes normal. If they do not see, then their children will, or even their grandchildren.
What are Fen'harel's teeth?
no subject
[If her hand shakes when she writes that, she does well to hide it. She has spent a lifetime this way; Flemeth is always the shadow and the sculptor, and Morrigan might never be free of a thing under her skin like this, but she will do her best never to show it, now when she would rise like a lion to keep her son safe from that woman.
When she would do better, no matter the cost to herself.]
To some, tis a game. To others...likely something much darker. The version I have heard of involves a pair of hardened leather leggings with tiny nails driven into the insides. A captive is forced into them. They are made to run whilst the Dalish give chase after a count of one hundred is given, their hands lashed behind them. Twas a Dalish now gone that told me such a tale, and I had heard such from humans but believed it to be some of the darker stories told of them. To hear the truth of it from one of their own was as unsettling as it was unsurprising.
no subject
[ her handwriting is flawless. he notes no tremor. ]
And this elf, did they speak of it as something they had seen done, by kin? Or only as a story.
no subject
Though he did leave his clan long ago, and call him traitor for doing so. But the Dalish do not always wish to remember that their stories have teeth even when they set the Dread Wolf outside their camps.
[Like any time Andruil had zero chill.]
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Why is it the elves who have drawn your interest? Only for the Empire that once was? You would be able to look at the ancient Tevenes and go back nearly as far in history. Why not the origin of your own people?
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I know only my mother. Nothing more. I grew up in the Korcari Wilds with only she and I, my forays into a civilised world that forgets itself and the Chasind were they not apt to flee should they think Flemeth close behind me then. That is my people, nothing more.
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Gwenaelle seems very fond of you. Fonder than she is of me. I suspect she would call herself one of yours.
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Why would she not? I know what it is to be a young woman making my way in a world that would seek to bind me. I am curious, however, as to what you mean by 'one of yours'.
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[ it was just kind of a Thing you did as one of the quendi. no biggie. ]
Your mother is your mother in name only, you had no choice in being of your line. You chose our mutual friend, I suspect, but she is kin to you despite having none of your blood.