Bandwagon? What bandwagon?
The blow didn't hurt as much as she expected. Maybe it was because she was receiving in the place of her son. Maybe it was because death came quickly, faster than the little droplets of blood staining her silver and white gown were propagating themselves, like an opening rose in the morning.
She closed her eyes on life and her hands on the javelin - slowly, like one does to fall asleep, almost a beautiful, perfectly choreographed movement as her body fell soundless to the ground. Her black hair fell on the floor of Gondolin's hall.
Stars. Stars and a million beautiful colors swirling in her mind, before her closed grey eyes, before suddenly....
Air, air in her lungs and grass beneath her hand, and she gasps, surprised and aghast.
How can this be?
T: Aredhel Ar-Feiniel, Irisse, the White Lady of the Noldor, sister of Fingon and Argon, and Eol's wife, whom he just killed. Er. From the Silmarillion - of course. And we're going to attempt at being done with new puppets for a while. Also, we can't really blame anyone for suggesting something that we wanted to do anyway, but we dedicate this to the usual suspects. <333
She closed her eyes on life and her hands on the javelin - slowly, like one does to fall asleep, almost a beautiful, perfectly choreographed movement as her body fell soundless to the ground. Her black hair fell on the floor of Gondolin's hall.
Stars. Stars and a million beautiful colors swirling in her mind, before her closed grey eyes, before suddenly....
Air, air in her lungs and grass beneath her hand, and she gasps, surprised and aghast.
How can this be?
T: Aredhel Ar-Feiniel, Irisse, the White Lady of the Noldor, sister of Fingon and Argon, and Eol's wife, whom he just killed. Er. From the Silmarillion - of course. And we're going to attempt at being done with new puppets for a while. Also, we can't really blame anyone for suggesting something that we wanted to do anyway, but we dedicate this to the usual suspects. <333