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Nar's eyes briefly widen before he stumbles and fights off a terrible sensation that is a pain he's never felt before. He'd not felt it when Duilin was petrified by the monster, not by half, even then it had been an awful sensation like something trying to pull his heart out through his chest. This was indescribably worse in its subtlety. There was nothing to fight. Something was gone from him, and he couldn't get it back. Even while he falls, he uses his sword to deflect a blow from his sparring partner. He's been learning quickly, as quick as he can how to start using weapons and knows he'd better learn faster. Every day has been a constant schedule of hours of relentless fighting, accompanied by hours into the night of an altogether different grueling work related to his societal position. He isn't sure which is more difficult.

His partner pauses, realizing Nar is distressed by something other than the fight, and they stop. He sits for a moment, blinking back tears, then at last gets up and finishes their fight.
I thought it would destroy me to lose Duilin. Instead I feel nothing at all. I can't even feel sadness, there is only a great well of emptiness where my heart once was. I have to keep moving, just in case it's only shock. I can't afford to break down, not right now when we are all in so much danger.

into the wilderness again

It's been twenty-seven days since I left the Gondolithrim. Now I'm being sent somewhere else. I have to keep reminding myself that I made the 'choice' to go. There wasn't much of a choice, if I had fought it, it would only have become worse for everyone. I don't know when, or if, I'll return, since life has shown me remarkable unpredictability. I have good memories when I feel the distance, but they are only memories for all their vividness. I hope I can learn something useful while I'm out in the wilderness again, it would be nice to surprise Duilin with something, like being able to show him I've learned how to hunt, or finally be able to properly sneak up on him. It helps, thinking about when I will be back, rather than if.

My father being alive is not too shocking with all of my dreams and strange happenings in Gondolin, but it is awkward sometimes, and I haven't found the courage yet to include Duilin in my talk of my time there. I miss him. When I am awake it is only awake and without him nearby, when I am asleep it is a restless sleep. Being this far apart feels like being partly naked in the winter, only all of the time. I need to some how ignore it, but I can't figure out how, and am not sure if it is such a good idea to do so.

Oct. 2nd, 2008

Celeborn is interesting, he's completely unlike Mablung and yet alike at the same time. They both speak very carefully, but I think for different reasons. It is annoying, to try to talk to this silver haired elf that is supposed to be kin to me, and to have him so afraid of saying anything of substance that all that comes out are painfully polite words. Is this what it was to be in the court of Menegroth? Maybe it is good that I left, I would never have liked it. Mablung is a relief. I think I see Duilin only when he is sleeping lately, he is so busy, and so the company of someone I can at least speak my own language to is comforting. Quenya is fine enough as a language I suppose, but it is a little rough and hard, like the stone city itself, for all its beauty, and it can be a little tiring trying to speak too much of it. And he understands me when I unknowingly slip into the speech as it was changed in Angband, which I am working hard at losing as a habit. I remind myself of Maelverin's words in the mines before he was taken away.
Sex is very ridiculous. There is something quite awkward about it, and almost comical in its nature, and yet it is also strangely something the body desires in a way that allows for no compromise. I cannot help but to feel my face heat up at times, even during the most passionate of moments, due to the bizareness of such an act.

Stranger still, that I should not recoil with loathing from it. To be shown a way of things, that does not include the pain of Angband, but another pain two bodies apparently know how to strive for without any effort on the part of a mind, and are quite happy to struggle to suffer from. It is still very ridiculous. I am glad it is not like Angband. It seems that Angband is another part of me, that is not me, and me all the same. There are times when I feel I am me, who was in Angband, and then times I am me who is now free, and I cannot seem to reconcile the two of them together yet. Nor the me that I was before then. Though we three share the same memories, I can only look back on him with pity, and know that I am one and the same, yet the feelings are too far apart from me. This is troubling, as I do not like to feel a division within myself, it is unnerving enough to gain memories you never had in the first place, most especially when they are from a father never known, and recently expired.

No wonder then, that our minds become like mudCollapse )

Sep. 2nd, 2008

Last night was the same nightmare. That I'm wasted away, more skin and bones than I was before, and I can't do anything. I was strong enough to fight at times, but not like these people. The Gondolithrim, they have not faced their bodies being forced into such reduced shapes and are much more strong of spirit and body than those who struggle to live in Angband. They have never felt so weak they could not run without wanting to faint. Maybe it was the air. It always felt dirty. I dream I am being chased, and I cannot run fast enough, and my body is only skin wrapped delicately over bone. I was never so frail, so how can I recall this dream with such vivid detail? I blame the zombies.

Also; I can't decide what is making me more irritable. The smell of orcs, or that I haven't been able to get my hands on a naked Duilin in almost a week since we left the mountains, though yes things have been a bit busy I'm allowed to grump about it nonetheless aren't I? I think I'm adjusting fairly well to this having a libido thing other than the inconvenient timing of it, but then I suspect a philosopher might say there is never a convenient time for it. I keep catching myself talking like Duilin and it is a little weird, like we're both talking at the same time. Or something. Maybe it is because most of my learning of how to better my lack of Quenya speech, has been with him, so I have picked up the nuances of his own manner of speaking it. Perhaps spending more time with others of the Gondolithrim in our group will give me some measure of variance.

momentarily wallowing

I have tried to convince myself that my thoughts are only born from the bitterness of my time in the Iron Hills. That all is well. I cannot help it, though I should deny these dark thoughts for something that would rather give me joy, I have no illusions about what is between us. I don't need the idle chatter of others to remind me of that.

I cannot let myself stop to linger over these thoughts, for I am afraid I might never get up again.

Maybe there is a healing for even a descendant of Feanor, in this Blessed Realm I hear of.


I am grateful Celebrimbor is willing to make the light that I have had on my mind. It should prove itself in the tunnel route, and I think Duilin will know well what to do with it. Hopefully I will not lose the whole of the lamp it will be from, I feel it may prove needed to have a light of my own.


I am learning how to kill orcs with weapons of my own, but more important I think is the chance to instill fear into their hearts with this light construction I have brought to mind with Celebrimbor. Call it what you will, it is revenge, a bitter one. Let them see daylight in their most comfortable of places, the dark of the earth. Let them be afraid. It will give the Gondolithrim who take that route only a moment probably, but even a moment, less than that, can save a life. It can show the archers where to shoot, surprise the servants of Morgoth for the moment they need to kill them, or the people of the Hammer to crush them as they recoil in fear and surprise.
I accidentally hurt someone today. They came up behind me at the common range, to ask me something, and before I realized what I was even doing I reacted like they were an orc. I apologized, they will only have a few bruises but it won't hurt their aim, I just wish I could get rid of this, whatever it is that is part of me that does that. At least I have no weapon but Ninniach, and am not used to keeping even her on me.

Maybe it hurts less than it seems it should, because my heart is already so used to the dark, and to hiding away. Maybe it is because I stopped listening to it so very long ago that I can't even remember my own name for how hard I pushed Who I Was from Who I Am, and so is long used to silence rather than this loud welcoming shout. He says he will die, and so I must believe him. I will hope he does not, but will prepare for it. I will lock away every moment until the end, because I think it is all that the Iluvatar I hear songs of, will grant me. It will have to be enough. Perhaps because I have gone so long without, continuing without, will be not too dissimilar. But I think it will be different too much, because then I will know what is missing. Oh little green elf. As brainless as a chickadee. I will prepare for the end because that is all that I can do.

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