WhiteCity: A LOTR RPG

Home is behind, the world ahead,
And there are many paths to tread
Through shadows to the edge of night,
Until the stars are all alight.
Still round the corner there may wait
A new road or a secret gate,
And though I oft have passed them by,
A day will come at last when I
Shall take the hidden paths that run
West of the Moon, East of the Sun...


Those whose strange re-woven
destinies lead elsewhere are gone.

Those with severed threads have
found new lives to lead in this world.

Those who have always belonged here
and ever shall may now look east without
shadow, to the rising sun and a new Age.

Other stories may be told after this,
new threads intertwining to create new
tapestries upon the ceaseless loom of time.

But this one is complete.


March 3021, Third Age
(February 2004, Fifth Age)


( OOCCollapse )

...the road goes ever on...

(closing comments | fall through | disclaimer)
.

Orophin curls up in front of the warmth of the fireplace and takes a nap, his wood carving tools and various objects half worked on, eventually to be peiced together are strewn about him in his makeshift 'working area' and there is a thick rug he has been using to keep himself from getting sore as he works, which he uses for the nap. Loose black mane of hair falling to tickle his face slightly, the fine metal screen (a creation of Eol's) keeping any stray embers from hitting his skin or his clothes.

A usual day in their small household consisting of him and his lover, with the infrequent visitor and guest from Orophin's own extended family and kin, along with the perhaps less welcome visitor to see Eol and wonder at his strange appearance as one not of this world, but of another and not the mornedhel held in Mandos still.

A kitten, one foisted onto them from Haldir and Maglor when the cat got loose and was not caught for three days, finds Orophin in his 'spot' and bats idly at crystal leaves attached intricately to the light mithril anklet on his left foot, forming a soft bell-like sound. The kitten then curls up between him and the warmth of the hearth. Wrinkling his nose in his sleep at the tickle of the furred tail, the woodelf continues to sleep.

[Because Sala!mun wanted to know how Harry & Karl were getting on. Takes place the afternoon after this]

Harry: I thought I'd find you here. *With a soft smile, I step into the stables, glancing around me at the horses before my gaze settles on you, waiting*

Karl: *I glance over at you and smile, hand moving in a steady motion as I continue brushing the horse in front of me* I like it here.

Harry: *I lean against the empty stall door next to you, gaze following the movements of your hands* I know. *Quietly* You haven't asked yet.
( there is comfort in your embraceCollapse )

( (Takes Place before Hurin's Conversation with BeregondCollapse )

[ OOC: Original ending post -- moved up but kept here to retain comments ]

Beregond: *Nearing twilight, another group of rangers has just finished giving me briefing after returning from patrol. Nothing of note, no need to disturb Faramir. I relax, still not fully used to having more peaceful days than not, but slowly it's becoming the norm. I stand, ready to stretch my legs for a short walk before retiring*

Hurin: *Having finished speaking to Faramir, I'm in no hurry to get back on the road, especially not in the dark. Mordor may have been turned out, but that merely means there are uglier things hiding in the shadows-- Ah! There, a familiar face. I fall into step alongside Beregond, curiously* Remember me, lad?

( Uncomfortable questionsCollapse )

( In which Rumil finds Haldir, Haldir leaves Minas Tirith, and we even get a nicely open-ended epilogue. Er. I hope.Collapse )

I need to grow up now.

That is all I can think, curled up tightly in the pallet in the house of healing. I think I have spent more time here than in any other part of this mortal city.

There is no reason anymore to stay here.

I do not want to get up. To get up, means I have to accept what has happened. All of it. But I do it anyway. Because I have to grow up now. Push aside the need to just curl up tightly and weep like a child. I can't anymore.

I will not think about the possibility of no reuinion with Eol. I will not allow myself to. An eternity is a long time to wait. And I am frightened that only memories, will not be enough to carry me through it. Lothlorien will be a welcome distraction, at least for a time. But only for a time.

It's hard to put on the black mail, different from the normal dark silver of any other kind of mail. I try it on once, and then remove it. I will wear it when I leave, but not until then. I give my farewells to the twins, but cannot find Ambarussa who I had grown to like. Perhaps he has been taken as I have heard others are. I cannot find Captain Hurin as well, but perhaps that is for the best, as it will speed my journey away from here, in the end. Legolas Thranduilion, I am not so certain I wish to see.

( But I do so anywayCollapse )

If I'd woken in the morning to find her gone, or come home dropped by in the evening to an empty house, I would not be sitting here writing this entry. I would be out there looking for her right now. And I would not stop looking until I found her, or found who had taken her, or at least discovered why she'd left.

But it's not like that. I remember waking from a strange dream -- I barely remember it now, I remember only a whispered apology like a sigh on the wind, but for what I cannot recall. I awoke and the air felt tense, like a storm was brewing on the horizon. It didn't matter, though. I was safe indoors, and so was she, with me...

I remember rolling to tuck my arm around her, my hand flat against the soft curve of her stomach. She didn't wake, but she grumbled sleepily even as she snuggled back against me, her fingers closing loosely over my wrist. I remember the scent of her hair, not sweet but intriguing. Bitter clean notes, herbs and soap. The scent of the Houses, of home and safety.

One moment longer she was in my arms, another breath, two...

And then? Nothing. She simply wasn't there anymore. The blankets were warm, but she was in not IN them. They fluttered flat to the bed, quiet as anything -- no flash, no bang, just...gone.

Taken.

There's nothing I can do, absolutely nothing. I shall return to duty tomorrow. I shan't lock myself in here and weep and rail against fate like a jilted young swain. I expect she'd be furious if I did. But I bitterly curse the Valar and the West, and I shall request as many foreign assignments as our new king will allow his Warden. Ioreth was well loved, and the story shall spread quickly. Pity in strangers' eyes...in my men's eyes, in the eyes of friends, reminded by every sidelong glance...my stomach twists harshly at the thought. I have to escape. NOW. Perhaps a message post to Ithilien...

...

We were to be wed today.
I waited too long to ask.

There was little for Amras to tend to once he had his brother's lover in the hands of the house of healing. Taking the sword with him, he returned to the storage house where Maglor and Haldir had held residence, and had sat there reading the book that Maglor had been writing, unsure of when the change would happen or if he would take the book with him.

He had laughed, and he had wept at all that he read, fighting the urge to throw the book against the nearest wall and scream that it was lying. It was... a very strange book - no, overly long poem, to read.

Hours later, he had finished the book, not bothering to go back to Haldir. He knew his brother's lover would eventually come here when he so chose to, and he only had so much time before he fell asleep and returned home. Home to his brothers and to Maitimo and Russa...

The brand was slow to heal, but still fading and Amras wondered if that would be brought through his journey home as well. It would certainly cause a stir. And then, there was no time to think of it, because as soon as he had set the book down to rest his eyes, his world lurched and he stumbled against stone to fall to the floor of a very familiar hall to Turco's Himlad residence, blinking in shock.

He was back.

Scrambling to get a foothold, he ran quickly down the hall towards where he still knew his brother's chambers were and gave a distinctively Feanorian glare to the guard who stood outside. He WOULD enter.

Entering, he found what he expected. The pale ashen face of Findekáno as he sat beside Maedhros, ever watchful and steadfastly refusing to eat until Maedhros had done so himself. A low involuntary whimper and Amras was crawling onto the bed like a child, curling up against his brother's side. He wanted to treat him like glass and wanted to hold him so tight they melted into one hroa. He did not know what to do and ignored the quiet rasped protestations of his cousin as he sniffled into the blankets and the russet coloured hair cropped close to Maitimo's frail body.

"R'ssamissedyousomuch.Theywouldn'tletmeseeyou." Silently, Maedhros grasped one of Amras' hands with his left and held it tightly, unable to respond with voice. It would be a long time to come. Wordlessly Amras reached out a needy hand behind him, feeling the presence of Ambarto hovering at the doorway and almost an instant later felt his twin crawling in behind him to press up tightly against his back.

"I see Ambarussa managed to get in." The rich singer's voice spoke in a dry tone, leaning against the doorframe with arms crossed to watch. Amras did not need to know it was his 'Kano', and he smiled a little, relaxing. Everything was okay now. What he had learned in the book and of the White City could wait. Right now, he had his brothers back.