Beyond the Edge of the Forest

This is an independent, low activity, and private multi-muse blog for muses from Tolkien’s works, as well as OCs inspired by Scottish folk songs and history.  Cherished by Chelsea (she/her. 29.) Please read rules before interactions. If you are a non-roleplay/personal blog, DO NOT FOLLOW OR REBLOG my content. 

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I know I have not been here, and I do apologize. <3 IRL things have really worn me down and made me hide in reading and fanfic writing where I can.

But I'm coming on here to say that I've been reading the ACOTAR series for the first time (yes, I know, I'm late and it IS odd I haven't read a fae book series but here we are), and I really just wanted to say that I was heavily invested in the Suriel to the point where I was like getting nudged to write here again and maybe even add the Suriel whom Feyre talks to....

And then chapter 60 of ACOWAR happened and I'm distraught.

Casually crawling onto the dash because I'm presently reading Emily Wilde's Map of the Otherlands, and running true to form with my reactions whilst reading Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries, I have been consumed by thoughts of Fourth Age Thranduil (who does not sail, see here and here) turning into full on Fae. (Additional Fae adjacent discussions here and here)

In taking Galadriel's foretelling of what will happen to the Elves should they not sail (i.e. fading into a rustic folk slowly to forget and be forgotten), I just think it fits! Let Thranduil be entirely consumed by the forest until he is a projection of it-- made of branches and moss and vine-like fingers with leaves as hair and eyes as deep and dark as the forest. I will not stop thinking about it!

And not only that but like....

The concept of Thranduil Never Being Able to Forget about what happened at Mordor (and also being one of the very few who believed Sauron would one day return) eventually fading into remembering None of It. Like... I do think that this would be the only way he could rest. Sailing wouldn't give him that peace, or at least, he does not believe it will. The only way he can find peace is to let the forest completely fold into him until he is a projection of it.

ANYWAY, these books make me think of Thranduil constantly.

@therapardalis sent: 🥂💋 [Bard - let's get this party started!]

The ever present damp chill, amplified by the clear sky, persisted on the Long Lake this night. The stars winked down upon the people, and the moonlight glossed the lake in light. On any other night, it would have been a sign to stay in, curled up in whatever blankets or furs were afforded to the people of the Lake. But on this night, most of the people were out, passing out mulled wine for warmth and spirits.

Even the Master of the Lake seemed more tolerable, as evidenced by his turning the other way to such protocols pertaining to curfew and noise. After all, the loudest amongst the masses were the Master's band trumpeting on into all hours of the night.

Bard navigated his way through the gathering crowd that began to huddle in pairings. His boots were heavy upon the wet, wooden boards, and yet he moved with a level of agility that could only come with repeated travel on these floating walkways. He nodded to those who called out to him as he passed-- some in slightly inebriated jeers over whether he had any prophecies to give for the new year, whilst others were more truehearted wishes.

"Are you still glad to be on the Lake tonight?" Bard asked, slipping in next to Thera. At that precise moment, several of the musicians played off key, causing him to wince slightly before the gentleness appeared across his face. "Even when the Master's band is no Elvish entertainment?" Despite the lines that etched along his brow and eyes--- a gift from the harsh living conditions--- there was mirth and warmth there. "Thera, I--"

All around them, the people of the Lake began their countdown from ten. The sea of the crowd swelled, bumping Bard closer to Thera as his arms wrapped around her. Any such hope for exchanging words were lost now, for the countdown grew louder and louder and the band braced themselves for a grand finale.

And so, Bard simply lifted a hand to Thera's face, his thumb sweeping gently across her cheekbone.

3...2....1.... Happy New Year!

As the band trumpeted out their song, Bard leaned in, pressing a kiss to Thera's lips. "Happy New Year, Thera," he whispered by her ear, grazing kisses there, too.

This is oddly specific, but there is one Main Image from the movie that I strongly associate with Thranduil. To me, it speaks of him and remains (to this day) the one image that will pop up in my mind when I think about him during my forest walks, or when I write him on here (or write meta).

And that image comes from DOS when Thranduil says, "No one enters this kingdom, and no one leaves it." I should stress that it's the physical movements/body language/imagery of Thranduil in that moment that just plays in my head on repeat. I do have thoughts about his entire dialogue, which I will get to in another post on another day. But this is simply focusing on his movements!

First of all, his stance. It's tall and rigid and the train of his robes all puddle off to the side, which to me, gives off impressions of a tall tree with its roots protruding from the ground right at its base.

His unblinking eyes in that moment. The way he is juxtaposed against a darker backdrop whilst the light shining on his face both illuminates him and covers him in a bit of shadow (his grief that darkens him and his heart and the forest). The way he turns around without breaking eye contact and his countenance sinks more into the shadow. How his back eventually is fully turned toward us (the viewers) with his head slightly bowed and his hair spilling down past his shoulders... hair which is the only source of light/brightness on him in that moment!

Like!!! If you needed more physical representation of the grief that has shadowed Thranduil's heart (and by extension the forest) AND Thranduil's belief/fear that Sauron would return plaguing him in a darkness of his own until he is finally proven correct when Sauron is right at his door in the forest he loves... I say go watch that scene specifically! It's all RIGHT THERE!

Liesl!! <3333 Thank you so much for this heartfelt birthday wish! I honestly cried a little bit when I read it (in a good way- you got me right in the heart!). I'm truly so grateful that this website and our mutual love for the hobbit brought us together. YOU have inspired me with all of your meta and takes on Susan and Sigrid, and I have cherished our ooc chats rambling about our characters and plots. But the most important thing of all is how touched I am by your kindness not only to me but also to everyone on the dash. The world is a little brighter because you're in it, and I will always be cheering for you, friend! <333

Right, I've officially gone on another trip around the sun! It's my birthday <3 I'm not certain how much I'll be on today in terms of writing, though I'm taking an extended holiday off work, which (I hope) will mean some writing will appear on this blog in the foreseeable future.

Today's thoughts have been these two different lyrics from songs and poems + how they are Éomer and Lothíriel.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down. I'll crawl home to her."

"they asked 'do you love her to death?'

i said 'speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life.'"