Subject: Winterly Mirkwood Fri Nov 06, 2015 7:17 am
For Elvenking Thranduil Winter is Home...
& the snowscape offers sweet escape Come Winter, the Forest subsides in a crystalline, Snow-white Embrace & the only time betides when Thranduil receives relief from the scorching kiss of Drangonfire, soothed by the glacial caress of winterly Salvation!
Thranduil is a YuleKing of snowy Mirkwood
Last edited by Mœrilindë Thranduiliel on Wed Jun 14, 2017 3:42 am; edited 23 times in total
Subject: Re: Winterly Mirkwood Sat Nov 07, 2015 1:43 am
The little Mayfly gazed upon the fair Prince…fair he was indeed & tall – not unlike his progenitor…but he was such a different kind of fair you might as well call them fire & ice! If Prince Legolas was the summer breeze, with all its warmth & ease then his Lordfather be the winter blizzard…either distant & surreal like a ghost of the faraway frost … or howling in your face at full sway, threatening to burst out your eardrums & blow your soul away! The Princes’ hair of golden wheat stalks – just right for the harvest… his cerulean blue eyes like the cloudless summer skies held no surprise …a halo of gilded afterglow lingering about him spoke of the sweetest… midsummer stories. & his smile - a soothing soul-balm like nothing you have ever felt before! But Mayfly took no fancy to him… For his smile was about as special to her as a blue sky in the summer. His air was about as rare as a hot day in July.
But to feel the caress of the melting sunlight upon a bitter wintry morrow – now there was a treat! Just when you had thought you would never see the sun again, that you had long forgotten what warmth even feels like…& thence a Miracle reveals itself unto your undeserving eyes…& spills itself upon the frostbitten flesh! The sheer, unbroken snow glittering back in gratitude, bestrewn with precious white gems of pure starlight - a fairytale without end
No one can put a price on that surprise! & therein… hid the rare blessing appreciated by so few! Therein lay the true Magic that enchanted Mayfly’s heart of hearts. Indeed everyone felt heat in the summer! But to receive the bone-chilling touch of Winter & be gifted by it…with warmth! Then you have been chosen, thence you have true Magic! Or maybe it is that false sense of warmth you get…right before you have frozen to Death? In the end you would know. That was the Love of Elvenking Thranduil!
Last edited by Melethriell Thranduiliel on Wed Nov 30, 2016 12:36 am; edited 20 times in total
Subject: Re: Winterly Mirkwood Sun Nov 15, 2015 3:49 am
Mayfly fancied the jubilant spring wildgardens and bubbling rivulets of the fae vibrating with life - sights, smells & sounds which entranced the senses gleefully... The breathless silver nights of the werewolves, drenched in moolight, along serpentine forestpaths untrodden by human foot, grizzly mountain crags sharp-set against the glaring Moon disc, and the darkling, needly outlines of pinetrees that wept with sweet-smelling, sticky tears. She dearly missed the warm comfort and cozy predictability of her old home, the kind face of her father that she never could fully detach from, heart and mind. She feared yet craved the otherworldly realm of the sylpths of blurry views, eerie dancing lights and nameless dawning dreams that slunk as phantasms to delve into the very Soul of you. She even came to admire the grim grandure of the fortress chasm that encompassed her, ancient Darkness that seemed to leave you a sense of fortitude and perpetuity.
But one foreign and forbiding delicacy there was, that Mayfly could only ever eye from afar. For the closeness of her unforgiving embrace was a synonym of Death. She cared nothing for saving needless things like life. Such trifles to her were devoid of meaning, for there was no flame in her game. The essence that fuelled her was not of this World, other than Alive. So inspiringly uninspired, surprisingly unsurprised, enchantingly disenchanted, touchingly untouchable. So cold & bloodless, aloof & alien, purified from all matter of warmth and filth, passion and suffering. Such artifice & artistry in her refined ways of glacial tranquility. Soaring high above the sullied scurry of low-life upon her niveus wings of sublime Frigidity. The ever-shooting Star of pitch-Black did flaunt her as an icy mane of her own... a snow-white Queen riding the tail of Death's cool breath. Oh, the two of them... Were they sisters, were they lovers...or were they one Soul & the same? No one lived to tell this tail.The cruel Mistress frozen upon her crystalline throne... Standalone. & Death alone - her stealing Shadow.She seemed to begin & sustain herself, only hail to herself, slave for nothing, to no one... sole yet whole & so very free...No force could ever disenchant Mayfly's heart from the fatal finieres of Winter...
& a word to the wise, when the fire dies - you think it's over...but it's just begun!
Last edited by Melethriell Thranduiliel on Wed Jan 11, 2017 11:42 pm; edited 3 times in total
Silmaril
Posts : 55 Join date : 2015-07-26
Subject: Re: Winterly Mirkwood Thu Jan 28, 2016 9:32 pm
It was a fine winter day in the secluded realm of Mirkwood. Fresh snow had purified the sapless skeletons of the trees, their branches twisting themselves in tangled stories of sorrow; and the fair frozen crystals of water were humidifying nature's own Ikebana museum; this is what the Forest had become in the season of living mortiferum. The circulating chilly air lightened Lord Thranduil's ever burdened spirit; it reminded him of the Universal Humming's elevation, so indifferent to the agony of a cursed soul; it wasn't even indifference; it was just absolute remoteness and absence, which left the suffering faded spectres on their own; not because of cruelty or any other form of passion; simply no emotional response whatsoever, because the Humming had ascended in a sky of no subjective manifestations; it was inside of everything that ever was while being integrated into an inseparable Whole, therefore it was never anything in particular. It was always yet never there. Even torment and ferocity would show more compassion, for they would at least connect with you, communicate you a message, be a part of your world.... Maybe that's why the silence of the snow had an effect both decimating and inspiring; a soul used its morbid metaphors to fill its matrix with memories and loads of grim feelings; And so, the snow, having accumulated lonely stories, started emanating sirenlike mute memorial songs of infernal fire; inconsolable pain that craved to scream itself, devour matter and time as an act of afflicting desperation; destined to be enclosed in an immobile image of cold tranquility; the latter's power in a process of postmortem rejuvenation and wise acquiescense. Only, would a soul truly immerse itself in Winter's truth or would it accentuate on Winter's abbandoning solitude? For it is true that, when Cold burns, you beg for Fire's gentle touch. And how did King Thranduil's soul feel right now? He inhaled slowly; he was One with every single dead animal and early sprouted blossom in the Forest; the Legions of crows weighing upon the trees, drained of vital sources, like parasites of a demonic plague infesting the lungs of a living being - literally! The quietude of Death, which Thranduil aspired to - everywhere! The King was at peace; there was nothing but peace! He was leaning on the florally ornamented handrail of one of his Palace's Winter Gardens. He usually preferred wooden material for his edifices; it was important for Him to always be One with Nature; a Forest King could not (and was repulsed by the idea alone) to enclose himself in artificial heavy beauty; had he done so, he would soon leave the forest heartless, without an OverLord to pulse through its essence; only a lowly parody of a dwarvish rank would let themselves be deluded by the comfort of metallic luxury before the Life Force of Nature. Jewelry was a matter to be treated very carefully too. For the Elvenking had a weakness for it but not for artificial shine and its vacant illusion; but for the secret cosmic emanations incorporated inside of a few special jewels among the hoaxes of no value. Pure Starlight, magical powder of Costellations, strings of Crystals' core, this is what could make a jewel come to life; and treasures of the kind were a part of a King's nobility, they charged the bloodline, the spirit of aristocracy with an awe-provoking superiority that did not pretend but simply was there to glorify, to tremble before the magic of its very alchemic fountains and to absorb their power wisely so as to use it for enhancing the virtues of a King to rule constructively and to establish his own idea of prospering domains. Their Ruler - first an active vessel of establishment, maintenance and defense; and only after achieving successful results in this regard, an Idol and Icon of Worshipment. The latter's taste very seductive but once you intoxicate yourself with it, you lose the Ruler inside. Soon the Throne will refuse your empty body decorated with irrelevant symbols of Royalty; and you will discover your own insignificance in some of Theater Life's humiliating ways. So, King Thranduil had ordered that his Winter Garden be upbuilt of Sapphire stone, which had been exposed to the chanting of December, January and February Fabuleas (invisible frost nymphs who chant winter stories under the starry nocturnal sky). It had taken a long time for his missioners to fulfil his wish, for the Fabuleas were furtive; and really good at being it. The location of the stones the King was keeping a deep secret, for personal reasons - and the missioners' would be punished very severely, in case they ruined it for him - the penalty, of course, Death. The Elvenking was leaning against the ornamented handrail and observing Winter's beauty; Meanwhile, currents of Fabulean unutterable tales were whirling around his legs, blessing (or cursing him?) with the gift of unimmaginable experiences.
Silmaril
Posts : 55 Join date : 2015-07-26
Subject: Re: Winterly Mirkwood Sun Jan 31, 2016 3:04 pm
Subject: Re: Winterly Mirkwood Thu Jan 05, 2017 4:34 am
MERRY YULE FROM THE GREATEST GIFT-GIVER IN MIRKWOOD! May he rule in his winterly Kingdom with a warmed heart beneath the icing! & let us bid FAREWELL to another Year under the rule of my ElvenKing Thranduil...
& CHEERS TO THE BEGINNING OF A NEW ONE & so on AD INFINITUM!
Subject: Re: Winterly Mirkwood Thu Nov 30, 2017 1:04 am
Meet Thranduil's cousin Selbjorn - The Frozen King
How elegantly now step forth his feet... he's walked this earth for countless years, he's heard a million hearts cease to beat... his armour gleams with thousand spears!
A word to the wise... When the Fire dies You think it's over but it's just begun!
Fri Nov 06, 2015 7:17 am
