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[07 Dec 2023|09:54pm] |
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~friends only~
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[16 Oct 2004|04:56pm] |
After a morning of putting around the inn and annoying the innkeeper in her usual chirpy manner, Ilsa sat down to write down her thoughts, even if she still couldn't keep still due to all the excitement that seemed ready to explode out of her at any second. Surrounded by piles of books borrowed from the library, the energetic young woman tap-a-tapped a billowy blue feathered quill into some indigo ink and scribbled away in dainty little letters aligned into tidy little rows of sentences.
I am going to marry Faramir. The thought still brings me much joy, even long after he asked me to be his wife. That means, I'll be Mrs. Faramir or Mrs. Steward. Or Mrs. Lord Steward of Gondor. Or Mrs. Lady Lord Steward Faramir of Gondor's wife somethingorother, insert title here. Oh! I think I like that last one...even if I know its not really a proper title and I'll have to check my books to make sure that I don't muck things up, when I try to properly introduce myself. The Very Proper Guide To Acting Proper says that introductions and first impressions are very important in a public setting. So I suppose that I mucked up there already, as I have already given myself a bad name and reputation. I don't think there's a spell to fix that. I do think that Ulmo is laughing at me, because it was with his permission that I was allowed to come here. I do think that maybe he was bored with flooding river banks or stirring up sea storms, and I've become some perpetual source of amusement because of my silly antics.
Haven't gotten into trouble yet, so that's a good sign that he's laughing too hard to stop and tell me 'no-no'.
Anyway, that means that I'll have to work twice as much to assure the people of Gondor that I won't do any harm...even if I've been IN Gondor for longer than any of their families have been. Hello? I can remember every last flood in the past thousand years, for great Ulmo's sake! But Faramir knows that I won't do anyone any harm and that I'm trying to do what's right...but I really don't want to be a poor reflection on him, so I have to do everything just SO. Just RIGHT. Its just a bit difficult, because I've spent so much time without a body or even the ability to move a mouth to form words. And I've only ever had fish or frogs or eels or ducks or gnats or mosquitoes to talk to...and they are nothing like these humans are, in the least bit! Fish and frogs and eels and ducks and gnats and mosquitoes are not very concerned with formalities. They keep to their own groups, mostly, unless they have to eat one another...which is widely viewed as an unfortunate circumstance which must be done, in order to survive and continue the eternal cycle. Most people inside the city, I've noticed, don't take much heed to what they stick in their mouths to eat, like it miraculously appears out of nowhere in particular. The people who are closer to the Anduin and live in a much more simpler manner - farmers and the like - always seem to know better...Valar bless them.
Even so, I've strayed from the topic! Faramir has told me that there is no set time for us to be wed, so I have plenty of time to learn all the things that I should already know about acting proper. I don't want to be too much of a bother to Lady Finduilas, when she tries to teach me. So I'm taking this time to learn the fine art of how to manage household staff and practicing in a mirror the correct way to smile (don't show too many teeth, only the upper row!) and the right pace to walk in (not too quickly lest one seems in too great a haste to be approached for conversation!) and how to cut ribbons for the grand opening of a public establishment (pause, smile all around, and slowly cut! Do not hack away at the ribbon with wild abandon!). Its all quite a bit to remember, but I've luckily got a very good memory about these things. I now remember to knock on the door before entering and that you're supposed to bow to those higher up than you and simply nod your head to those who have to bow to you, because they don't hold as much status as you do.
Honestly? I don't much like that at all, since I think all these people are pretty much equal, inside. They feel things the same way, for the most part, so how can one say they are lesser or greater than the next person? But I know its always been this way amongst the people here and I treat everyone the same as the next person, anyway. Even when I have to kneel down in front of some of them, to meet them on an eye-to-eye level. In fact, I quite like Hobbits - I certainly do - now that I've really had a chance to meet a couple of them.
Now I have to go learn the difference between a soup spoon and a dessert spoon. Luckily the book has picture guides to help sort such things out. Why can't we just use the same spoon? Its been in our mouths, it can be licked clean and used again!
Oh, speaking of spoons? That reminds me that I'm in the mood to make more custard pudding. All of this people food is going to go straight to my waistline if I'm not cautious. I'll need much thicker laces on a bodice if I don't watch it...
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[13 Sep 2004|02:22pm] |
It was not yet dawn, the sky was still dark...as dark as the feeling of despair which had sunk into the water spirit’s very core of her being. A feeling which could not be dismissed, as she wandered the streets of the city, huddled in a blue cloak with the hood draped down even at that moment, so that her eyes were mostly hidden from view and the full pout of her lips were all of her features of her face that would be noticeable.
Terror. Burning. Fiery eyes. Darkness. All that which Faramir had described in his dark vision, that which Ilsa had not seen within her own mind’s eye, yet could be readily felt as an unshakeable emotion. A chaotic emotion, which nagged that some evil happening had occurred within the walls of Minas Tirith. Churning, combined, becoming stronger as she passed one doorstep and fainter as she kept moving forward with quickened steps.
She knew not what direction she was heading in, only the feelings she was able to pick up on. Feelings which led her through the upper levels of the city, looking as though she was wandering aimlessly for she kept stopping and turning around to head back in the same direction she had just came from...trying to sense that which couldn’t be precisely pinpointed.
Never once did Ilsa look around to see if another person was searching for the same indefinite thing as she was. There was little reason to fear true harm would befall her. Her concerns were for Faramir and his people...all those who had felt this fear set in so suddenly, without any warning or apparent motivation.
‘So much for going back to the Inn,’ she mused to herself, letting her bare feet take her where they would and continuing her own search, undaunted by the late hour or that she was all alone.
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