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Pretty, shiny things are hazardous to your health.

This is because the Law of Attraction is multiplied 100x once you look at them

Hobbits state the overly obvious

Chocolate is nonexistent in Middle-Earth.

Arwen stole Glorfindel's horse.

Beer and Tobacco seem to have a beneficial effect on hobbits

Never make fires in questionable caves

Kick a troll, and your foot will break

Elvish accents are low and whispery

Never sleep in a boat if your Dad is a Pyromaniac

Don't give twins the exact same name

Imitating voices can come in handy

Running at your brother with a sword and shouting at him in old-fashioned language will get you a big time-out

Really, really big dogs are very useful

Being good at riddles can save your life

Giant spiders freak out elves big-time

Elrond should have pushed Isildur into the crack of doom

Sauron once got pwned by a girl

If you insult any of Tùrin's female relatives, you will find yourself impaled on a rock at the bottom of a raging river.

Speaking of which, do not marry blonde women with amnesia. You never know how closely related you might be.

Law of physics: If you kill a Balrog, you will be killed too.

Ëarendil was the first astronaut

Never look dragons in the eye

Legolas is NOT blonde

Elves have the amazing ability to make up songs spontaneously

Don't ask Gandalf questions when he's grumpy

You do not want to make Gandalf mad.

Watching a Maia spirit dance will cost you about 100 years of your life.

The Elessar looks like an American Airforce badge

There are surprising similarities between the movie-version Elrond and Spock.

The eagles always did provide a convenient Deus ex machina

Never laugh at live dragons

Beware of hospital workers who talk way too much

The favorite color of most elves is grey.

There is such thing as a red-headed elf (YAY!)

Locking up your daughter in a tree house and expecting her to stay there is just simply naïve.

Make sure your master is mentally healthy before you swear fealty to him

Saruman does not need a microphone

Nargothrond snipers can (apparently) see an insignia on a tiny ring from ten yards away.

According to Fëanor, the war of the Silmarils was Galadriel's fault.

Female Noldorin elves with shiny gold hair are most likely telepaths.

Smiths. Are. Insane. (ex. Fëanor, Eöl, Sauron, Maeglin )

Cìrdan is the only elf with a beard.

Bilbo has the best sense of humor ever

Elves can count reeaaaaally fast.

Having seven sons in a row is not necessarily good luck.

A white cat is even worse luck than a black one.

A shiny object about an inch in diameter caused the destruction of the kindom of Doriath.

Hùrin got jynxed. his "aurë entuluvas" only ended up with his family being cursed

Don't speak Quenya in King Thingol's presence.

If you ever meet Miriel Serindë, make sure you pronounce the 's' like a 'p'. If you don't , you will get a five hour lecture on the values of archaic consonant forms.

Dwarves hoard secret recipes

There are more parallels between Gandalf and The Doctor than you think.

Before you discuss confidential information, check to make sure no one is trimming grass under the windowsill.

The word "holiday" means something else to Bilbo.

Singing wildly while dancing on top of a table is not exactly a good idea.

If you see big green mounds with bits of stone sticking out of them like teeth...get as FAR AWAY from them as possible before nightfall.

Try not to separate from your friends, especially in heavy fog.

Knowing how to write songs makes you beloved amongst the elves.

Fëanor and his sons are possibly the cleverest (yet dumbest) elves in Arda.

Do not stare at the flickering lights in the dead marshes.... or else you will become like THEM.

Gender bias cost Sauron his most trusted servant. (a.k.a. the Witch-King of Angmar)

IF guys  in black hoods riding black horses start sniffing around your neighborhood... take that as a sign that it's time to move.

Even Fat dragons gan pack a punch.

It is a good skill to distinguish between numbers 30 and 31.

Everyone in Middle-Earth writes their 'a' s with three dots above it.

The orc sergeant in Mordor has a very limited insult vocabulary

Shiny glass balls can drive you crazy

Gollum has severe vitamin D deficiency

and 500 years in a cave didn't improve his grammar either

If you happen to see an elf, a dwarf, and a man in the Riddermark, try to take it as a maybe/ maybe not situation.

Never trust young men who simply cannot take constructive criticism.

Be very, very suspicious if 13 dwarves suddenly invite themselves to your house and seem to know exactly what is in your pantry.

There are several meanings hidden in "good morning!"

Be sure to compliment a forest whenever you enter it.

The more tragic your death, the more it will be sung about.

Elves sleep with their eyes open.

In The Silmarillion, Eru gave the Men "strange gifts". I am positive that facial hair is one of them.

Keep Fëanor away from flammable substances.

to Mandos, it's pretty obvious where Gil-Galad dwelleth now.
I saw the "71 things learned from dr. who" one, and I just had to do one for tolkien. Some of these even made me laugh. Hopefully they make sense, and hopefully you enjoy.

EDIT: Vote for your favorite one!!!!! i :heart: messages. The top ten will be put in bold!

Edit again: Okay okay, I've gotten about three comments now on the "Pronounce Serindë like Perindë" about how it should be pronounced "Therindë" because it was a thorn letter instead of a P, This deviation was submitted a long time ago and now I know from reading PoME. Please do not comment again on it.
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The beacons lit
The oath gives speed
Horses and riders tall
The sparkling shield
On bloody field
We answer Gondor's call!

Kisses to wives
The last goodbyes
Who returns, we don't know
This is the day
When we can't stay
The King calls, we follow

The sea of spears
The sun sheds tears
Eorlingas ride to war
To the red day
To glory, fame
In the ancestors' hall!
Rohirrim battle song
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The Travellers (or: A Sad Sort of Melancholy Melody) –A short story.
By V.K. Violette

WARNING: I don’t own historical characters, and although I want to be, I am not George Sand. Everything in this story never happened. Also, this fic will contain love between individuals of the same gender. Just deal with it and move on.

A Sad Sort of Melancholy Melody
By: George Sand


Where should I start but here? I sit here alone, at Frederyk’s old piano which faces the window. I will not touch the keys and butcher their musicality with my non-ability to harmonize, or play music in general. Right now, there are tears running down my face, and words dying on my lips. However, these words shall live on paper. This short story is meant only for one pair of eyes: mine. But I should start with the background.

Chopin was my friend, and I did love him, more than I have ever loved a man- yet I had basically thrust him into the arms of another with my big mouth and my inability to take “no” for an answer, especially when it comes to the physical. I seduced him when he was weak, and he wouldn’t forgive me- no need to permanently engrave the details in writing. I don’t want to relive them anyway. But it was my fault why he had left me here at Nohant, why he had gone off with a certain Franz Liszt to Hungary for a small tour. I acted when I should have remained in the shadows. Besides, I could never compare to his long-term best friend.

They had a relationship. I’m sure of it. Well, at least on Chopin’s side. Frederyk got a glassy look in his eyes when he thought of or saw Liszt. He was in love with the man, though he never realized it. He was so taken by him, that when Liszt offhandedly mentioned that he was going to Hungary, Chopin asked if he could go, and Liszt accepted without thought.

I knew Franz. I knew him much longer than I knew Frederyk. I could see the stormy self-hate in his eyes when he thought about Chopin like that. He was smitten as well. He had abandoned Marie d’Agoult and his three children, he had abandoned Paris, and all of his friends. Just like that. There was most certainly romance, whether or not it was physical, I did not know. However, if anyone knows anything about Franz Liszt, there is no such thing as a non-physical relationship when it came to the “Hungarian Heartthrob”.

So this is my fictional theory brought out of waiting for Chopin to return. This is what I think happened. Something like this probably did. So I shall begin.


“Frederyk! The coach is outside!” Franz Liszt yelled impatiently from the front doorway of his downtown Paris flat. The mentioned was running about, frantically out of breath as he reached to grab everything in sight- gloves, hat, overcoat, piano wire, etc. Liszt rolled his eyes, and grabbed the smaller man by his wrist, dragging him gently into the luxurious black carriage.
For about seven hours, the two pianists were lost in their own world. Liszt was busy writing letters to his son, Daniel, and his daughter Blandine, making written small-talk about his travels. When he was done with these cordial notes, be began to write a letter to Niccolo Paganini, a friend of his, about some music he had deemed playable “only by the demon violinist”.  When his letter writing ceased, Liszt entertained himself with a book, just a general history on Hungary, not really taking in the information- he was moreso lost in his thoughts.

Chopin spent most of his time just watching the scenery go by, and when he got bored of doing that, he began to read a book given to him by his friend Julian Fontana about music theory. When the light outside had dimmed to the point where reading began to strain his eyes, the Polish pianist decided that it was finally time to make small talk.

Chopin smiled at Liszt warmly. “Ah, Franz! I’m so excited about visiting Hungary! Are you going to show me where you grew up?”

Liszt grinned, eager due to Chopin’s eagerness. “Haha, yes of course! I will show you everything in Hungary, down to my parent’s graves and my barber if you so wish it!”

Chopin let out a small laugh, covering his mouth, once more demonstrating his modesty. “If we get there, dear friend. It’s a week-long drive, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know. It’s part of the adventure!” Liszt said, winking at Chopin who began to blush. “Besides,” he continued, taking Chopin’s hand in his own, “we have plenty of things to do and see. We don’t want to miss the sights of Europe! We only have so long to live!”

Chopin blushed at Liszt’s contact, even more so when the Hungarian slid Chopin’s gloves off his hands.

“Chopinetto, you don’t need to just see the world- you need to touch the world too! So many textures, from piano keys to the wild grass to” Liszt’s voice sunk low “the skin of another.”

The Polish man’s face felt like it was on fire, having realized already his feelings for the other man. For some reason, perhaps his passive nature, he had accepted it with no issue. It was not men it was only Franz. Only Franz made him feel like this, made him long so uncharacteristically for the warmth of another, for the feelings given only by one’s lover…it was only this one person. Though what pained him, was the thought, the belief- that his love was unrequited.

Liszt entangled his long fingers between the other man’s smaller ones, peering at him with his soulful, azure eyes.

“We are free, Chopinetto,” he said, clutching Chopin’s naked hands fervently, a look of rapture and revelation and something anonymous (at least to Chopin) in his eyes. “Free of old lovers- Marie, George, even your pretty fiancee- free of all Parisian speculation, free of rumors- in Hungary, the people are quite conservative- it’s just us! You and I and music, oh the music we shall make Chopinetto!” Liszt’s eyes sparkled as these thoughts bombarded his estatic mind, relayed to his companion through a trademark dramatic Lisztian monologue.

Chopin looked at Liszt sadly. Not all love, I cannot be free from that.

The younger man caught on to the melancholy in the other’s eyes, and pulled the slight man into a soft embrace- Liszt always was the touchy-feely type. He was a hugger, and when he was mad, he was a hitter- it was as if he thrived on physical contact. Chopin felt himself involuntarily swoon as he smelled Liszt’s musky scent- the scent of cigars and the smell of home.

“What is bothering you, Chopinetto?” Liszt asked gently, practically purring into Chopin’s ear. The Hungarian couldn’t resist his temptations any longer- he was alone for a good long while with the smaller man- the newest, yet strangely always present, object of his amorous advances. He had spent months agonizing about the wrong-ness of loving another man in the way he loved his Chopinetto. Was it the femininity of the man? Even now, Liszt wasn’t quite sure. But he loved the smaller man being in his arms, he loved holding him possesively, watching the blush across his face. And now there were no more George Sand or Marie d’Agoult to start rumors about it, he noted wryly.

Chopin shivered, feeling Liszt’s cool breath against the inside of his ear. He involuntarily leaned into the other’s touch. Outside of the carriage, the sun had gone down completely, leaving the two pianists in the dark. Chopin whispered Liszt’s name under his breath, feeling faint.

Liszt had waited so long- almost two years- to get up his normally overstocked courage in order to confess to the man in his arms, the man who upon his face was a look that was involuntarily sensual- sensual because it was involuntary.

“Frederyk,” he breathed. “Do you know the meaning of the word ‘alone’?”

“Of course I do,” the soft-spoken man replied distantly, his mind elsewhere.

“Right now, we are alone- a state in which we haven’t been in for a while. And I have wanted to wait until we were alone in order to tell you this. I was going to wait until we arrived, but seeing you, being close to you, my friend I cannot hold back anymore.”

“Franz, I must confess something to you-“

“I must say something I’ve kept within me-“


“Chopinetto, I-“

“-love you.” They said at the same time.

Surprise was etched upon the two men’s faces, and this sweet confession uttered by the Polish man had set the little trigger in Liszt off, and he crashed his lips roughly to those belonging to the small man in his arms. Chopin groaned when Liszt shamelessly ravished his mouth, tangling his long, talented fingers in his Chopinetto’s hair. Said man whimpered, intimidated by the Hungarian’s animalistic hunger for him, and it took him great strength to push the other man away, noticing the hurt, yet hazy look on the younger’s face.

“I’m sorry, Chopinsky,” Liszt said with regret.

“No, Franz it’s not whatever you’re thinking! We have plenty of time together on this trip of ours- let’s not spoil it so quickly.”

Liszt grinned. “My, Frederyk,” he smirked, “was that flirtation, or was that my mind making tricks?”

Chopin’s face turned scarlet, and he looked down at his feet. Liszt tipped his chin upward, peering into the other man’s eyes, raw emotion reflected in both.

Chopin’s eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into Liszt for a soft, chaste kiss. The Hungarian caressed his now-lover’s face, his lips dancing about the elder’s face, his neck, and his collarbone, eliciting soft sounds from the untouched man in his arms.

“Franz,” he whispered in a paradoxically innocent yet sensual voice “I don’t want to go home.”

Overcome by the emotions the Hungarian had locked within him for so long, Liszt crashed his lips to Chopin’s again, and this time- Chopin did not stop him.


I cannot go on. I have tried, and although these sort of scenes always come to me, I just can’t write a love scene depicting my Frederyk in someone else’s arms. So I shall end it here- it seems a just ending. Someone is knocking on my door, and something within me suspects it is Eugene, whose comfort I need at this moment. He seems to take care of me during my emotional times. The paper is stained with tears, and it isn’t worth it to rewrite it- as the falling of tears occuring while rereading it will be bitter, and for many times after that. It is just a waste of ink and paper. Romance between men was never my specialty, and for good reason. I am no better than a man myself, and men most certainly do not write such things about each other. So I end. What a waste of an eloquent prologue.

-George Sand, 1838
A totally (somewhat plotless) Fluff-let done for an art trade with :iconmiyuko-101: for her drawing of Achille, which is SO AWESOME by the way. Check out her gallery! She's pretty darn good! :D

I was also shamelessly testing another plot-bunny of mine- George Sand writing a novel based on Chopin and Liszt's relationship. It sounds like a good idea, but I don't really know how I would possibly go about it without screwing it up. I

haven't read any of George Sand's novels, sadly they are all in French.

However, I have read Nelida by Marie d'Agoult (aka Daniel Stern), which was a very good read, though it was obvious which character Liszt was portrayed as, and which character (the beautiful heroine) Marie inserted herself as. It was like a really bad revenge plot. :ohnoes:

But yes! If you like short-fluff-drabble-stories, then this is for you! (I didn't like it, but if you read my Artist Comments, you notice that I don't like any of the stuff I write. It grows on me after a couple of re-reads, I must say.)

Pianistic Fingers was the best Chopin X Liszt thing I've written. And Medianoche, there's Paganini, diverting the romance for a long time. I might have to postpone my upload, depending on how much homework my Geometry teacher swamps me with. :paranoid:

~Miyuko-101 for her awesome art trade with me! :glomp: Hope to do it again sometime! :hug:
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Among the songs of waterfalls

in a valley green and fair

I sang the song of Lúthien

and spring was in the air.


Among the birches' silver trunks

I heard your silent song.

And I saw youth and innocence -

- and I felt something strong.


In that moment I lost my heart:

forever will it dwell

enchanted in your tender palm

in spring in Rivendell.


The wind sang in the mallorn leaves:

each leaf a small green gem.

I found no peace with summer breeze

in dreamy Lórien.


From distant lands under strange stars

I came weary, my feet sore.

I sought only rest from the war -

- and I found so much more...


You came to me like a king of old,

a white gem upon your brow.

And what I saw was a noble man.

And what I felt... was love.


Autumn has come to Rivendell,

the leaves wither and fall.

And I must go: to victory,

or to the end of all.


I watch you leave: as strong and wise

as a mighty king of Men.

And behind darkness, winter's chill

I hope we meet again.


The path is dark, the shadow grows,

on the edge of hope I stand.

But I don't fear, because my heart

is safely in your hand.


The river sings about the Sea,

but I stay on this shore.

For, without you, there is no joy

for me in Valinor.


My Evenstar, you are my light

when darkness spreads its wing.

And after winter cold and bleak

I still have hope for spring.


Like in the woods of Doriath

the spring will come again.

You are my Beren, you're my love,

and I'm your Lúthien.
Beren walked lonely in the woods of Doriath for the whole winter, until Lúthien returned with the spring. Now Middle-earth is falling into darkness and winter again - but there is love that reaches through it with hope. Written for Teitho: Elven Realms ([link])

Featured: :icondanaanderson:[link] :iconegil21:[link]
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In the quiet forests of Doriath, the sunlight was falling dappled through the leaves high above. The birds were singing, the branches were rustling, small animals were hopping happily through the undergrowth. A slight breeze whispered through the trees, and a small brook murmured nearby. All in all, perfect day in the forest.

Galadriel, however, was unable to enjoy it.

"I feel disgusting," she complained, pulling sharply on her reins to steer her horse around a small bush. "Do you people never wash?"

Her Sindar guides looked offended, but were unsure how to respond. She was a high lady of the Noldor, after all. As usual when in need of guidance, they turned to their lord.

Celeborn sighed quietly and gave Galadriel a mild smile. "We will be in Menegroth very soon, my lady. Be assured that King Thingol's halls have very beautiful baths."

A frown marred the loveliness of Galadriel's face. "We will be in Menegroth in two days. I feel disgusting now." She huffed out a breath and pulled her horse to a smart stop. "Surely there is somewhere I can at least perform minor ablutions near here?" she asked, turning in her saddle and frowning at Celeborn as he drew to a halt beside her.

Celeborn looked to their guides. "Is there a river or stream nearby?" he asked.

One of them nodded. "The brook we can hear widens to a small river quite suddenly a little further down this trail, my lord," he said demurely. "If the lady wishes, she can bathe there."

Galadriel looked mildly horrified. "Bathing in a stream?" she hissed, her eyes narrowing.

Their guides shifted uncomfortably. Celeborn indicated that they should take the lead, and spurred his horse to a gentle walk behind them. "Surely you have had to do such things before?" he asked as she drew level with him again. "There were no bathing halls when you arrived from the Grinding Ice, I imagine?"

Galadriel sniffed. "Indeed. But I had my smith make a bath tub, which my ladies would fill with heated water in my tent."

Celeborn allowed himself a private smile. That is so like her. "Did you allow your brothers use of this amazing innovation?" he asked, amused.

Galadriel laughed suddenly, and then looked quite surprised that she had done so. "Of course not!" she exclaimed. "They could most certainly take themselves to the river. If I'd let even one of them use it, my maid would have been scrubbing the dirt out for weeks! Besides, Finrod alone would have insisted on sitting in there for hours upon hours, to make no mention of the rest of them."

Celeborn laughed softly. "Indeed. You are most justified in your actions."

Galadriel gave him a look that was faintly suspicious, and would have spoken had a guide not called, "My lady, the river is good for bathing here!" from up ahead.

She spurred her horse into a trot and soon came to the riverbank, where she gracefully dismounted and looked disdainfully upon the river. Celeborn joined her. "Will this be suitable?"

She sighed heavily. "In the circumstances, I suppose."

Celeborn nodded. "Take the horses a small way through the trees," he said to the guides, "Make a fire to cook some game. We may as well stop here for the evening, if the camping looks suitable to you." The guides nodded and disappeared through the trees.

Galadriel gave him another suspicious look. "And what are you intending to do yourself, Lord Celeborn?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I thought I would also take the opportunity to rid myself of the dirt of the road."

Galadriel pointed imperiously towards a bend in the river, hidden from their current position by a growth of brambles. "Well, bathe over there then," she commanded, "I am not going to bathe in the presence of an ellon, no matter how honourable he may be."

Celeborn stifled a laugh and bowed. "As you wish, my lady." He disappeared around the patch of brambles.

Sighing again, Galadriel removed her cloak and spread it on the ground, leaving her boots next to it. Checking once again that no one was within sight, she removed her leggings, tunic and shirt, and laid them on her spread cloak before stepping speedily into the river. She let out a harsh gasp at the iciness of the water, cursing under her breath.

"Is everything alright, my lady?" Celeborn's voice drifted to her from around the bend. She swore she could detect a hint of stifled laughter in his tone, so she simply made a non-committal noise and tried to adjust to the freezing temperature. It didn't appear to be getting any warmer, and now her toes were definitely numb. She washed herself at an alarmingly fast rate, gasping and panting from the cold, then skittered out as fast as her now jellied legs would carry her. Once on the grass she collapsed to her knees, and then realized she didn't have anything in the way of a towel.

"Damn it," she muttered. What an oversight! She hugged herself, feeling her teeth begin to chatter. "C-c-celeborn?" she stuttered, "D-do you h-have s-s-some kind of towel?"

There was a silence. "I have a spare cloak," he said brightly after a pause, "Will that do?"


A piece of thick cloth came flying over the brambles. She snatched it up hastily and wrapped it around herself. Not a moment too soon, it turned out, as Celeborn himself appeared shortly afterward, fully dressed and looking refreshed. "The river is chilly this time of year, is it not?" he smiled.

Galadriel brought the full force of her formidable glare to bear on him. "Celeborn. I am not yet fully dressed."

He looked surprised. "Oh."

He didn't move.

Galadriel made an impatient movement at him with her hand, catching the cloak sharply just before it fell open. "Leave. Go see to the horses or some such. Go!"

Celeborn bit his lip to contain a snort of laughter. Somehow the gracious lady of the Noldor reminded him of an angry chicken, hopping from foot to foot and waving her hand at him, the cloak flapping loosely around her lower thighs and a very angry expression on her face. "As you wish," was all he could choke out, before moving swiftly in the direction of the camp, muffling rather un-lordly giggles with the palm of his hand.

Galadriel turned back to the river and huffed as she rubbed the cloak over her shoulders. "Honestly. Males."
Introducing Galadriel the Angry Chicken ;)

Sorry for slight character assassination. Shall we say it's slightly parodied?
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Some memories are too dark to bring into the light, and I have seen too many dark things. Do not ask me. I will not recall memories to darken the very light of day; do not ask me about the dark. Ask me about Light.

Ask me about the light, and I will speak. Ask me about the light, and I will tell you of one day when the light was strong. I was young, barely twenty years of age, and had returned from a journey when Elrond called me, he who had been like a father to me.

That day all was changed.

That day, for the first time, I heard the name of my father. That day, for the first time, I saw the heirlooms of my house. That day, for the first time, I knew my inheritance.

That day, for the first time, I knew my own name.

And I was young. For a whole day pride filled me and I thought that the world could bring no more beauty. I thought the world was full and could give no more for I was young, and I was of noble birth; higher than any among Men. I did not think about the years ahead, on the responsibilities that lay before me, or the burdens my birthright brought. The world was full of light. Nothing could darken it. Nothing could make it shine more bright.

A man can be so wrong.

I walked underneath the trees at the hour when the sun set. What did I feel, you ask? I cannot tell. Even in that moment I could not have told; my heart and mind was too full to tell. This alone I know: I was glad, and I could not keep my gladness inside. It burst out in song.

Then I saw a sight that overthrew it all.

The memory of that vision has not faded with the years, for there she walked between the trees; Lúthien Tinúviel, most beautiful among all the Children. I do not know how long I stood there, dumb by the sight, speechless at this vision. But then I saw her walk away under the shadows of the trees, and suddenly I feared that if I lost sight of her now she would never again be seen. And so I called to her:

"Tinúviel, Tinúviel!"

And she halted. She spoke to me and she was no dream. She lived, she breathed; she was flesh and blood. Arwen Undómiel, Elrond daughter. My own name and lineage crumbled to nothing against her beauty, and even in my youthful pride I knew then that the light carries within its own darkness. Just like dark spots appear before the eye when we have been staring at the light, thus the world was dark when I turned my eyes from her.

No, do not ask me about the dark. Ask me about the light, and I will show you the light in my beloved's eyes.
Battles comes in many forms, and the memories are not always dark. MEFAs first place 2009

First in a vignette-series with the memories of several characters, with Aragorn as the most prominent. Each vignette have a different memory, told in first person.

Disclaimer: These vingettes are based on the characters and world created by J.R.R. Tolkien, all of which are the property of the Tolkien estate. The stories are made for entertainment and at no monetary gain.

rstrider9 made a wonderful illustration that links in to this and the last vignette (not posted here yet): [link]
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Common Phrases in Sindarin
Sindarin is technically not a functional language, there are so many words missing. Simple words are just simply non-existant. But there is some help for the language, it's a beautiful, poetic, and its in Lord of the Rings for goodness sake. :D

If there are any phrases that you would like to see me translate, feel free to contact me and I will add them to the list.
So you may want to review this page many times after seeing it for the first time.

"thou" : formal
"you" : informal

-----a dash before the characters make it a suffix that is used for verbs and possessive
Version A
Formal: lín ; informal: -ch
Version B
Formal: -l (obscure) pl: -dh ;  informal: -g ; pl: -ch
(the reason the –l is obscure is because it can often be confused with a verb tense that is why it is best to avoid it)


__1: Aiya "Hail" [this one stems from Quenya]
__2: Suild/ suiliannad informal "greetings"
__3: Suilannen formal "greetings"
__4: Mae govannen "well met" [this is a descriptive term that describes the nature of their meeting, not an actual greeting. approx litteral "good to see you"/ "ive been looking for you, its good i caught up to you"]
__5: huiliannaid annon alle "greetings give-i to you" [i give you my greetings]

__1: Námarië formal "be-(at)-goodness" / "be good" (sindarin equivalent: novaer )
__2: no ven lín mae "be path your well" (Lit: may your path be good)
__3: no elenath síla or ven lín "(may it)be! stars shine over path your" (lit: may the stars shine on your path)

inquire: "How are you"
__1:  Inquiring about a household:"mar" : home/dwelling
______F: Ma var lín vae? [ ? home thou well?]
______F: Ma vareth vae?
______IF: Ma var chin vae? [Chin > cîn , gîn]
______IF: Ma varech vae? or Ma vareg vae?
__2: Inquiring on the persons well-being
______IF Ma noch vae? [?are-you well]
________ Ma nog vae ?
______F: Ma nol vae? (this one is kind of obasucre…best to avoid, see note at top)
Ma nodh vae? </i> (this one is fine)
__3: Inquiring on how life (as the verb's actor) is treating them; verb na- "is/be" > no / naw "is/are"
______F: Ma alle cuil no vae? [ ? to-thou life is well]
________ Ma alle guil naw mae?
______IF: Ma achen guil no vae?
________ Ma achen guil naw mae?
__4: "It", being non specific
______F: Ma alle no vae [ ? to-thou is-it well?]
______IF: Ma achen/ agen no vae [? to-you is it well?]
[note: If you want to include a noun, just put it inbetween "alle/achen" and "no" example: Ma alle aran no vae [? to-thou king is good?] [is the king good to you?]]


response: "good"
__1: "it is good" "good"
______ Mae "good/well/useful"
__2: "im good"
______ non vae [ be-i good]
_______ naun vae
__2: "we are good"
_______ nam vae [ be-we good]

response: "not good" / "poor" / "bad"
______ u-vae [(it is) not-good]
_________ no u-vae [it is not-good]
______ faeg [(it is) poor/mean]
_________ no faeg [it is poor/mean]

________________ Doing/ action

inquire: "What are you doing?"/ "What did you do"
___1: Present tense
______F:mana le câr? [ what do-thou?]
_________ mana caril
_________ mana caridh
_________ mana le câr sîr? [what do-thou today?]
_________ mana caril sîr?
_________ mana caridh sîr?
_____IF:mana carich? [ what do-you?]
_________ mana carig
_________ mana carich
_________ mana carich sîr? [what do-you today?]
_________ mana carig sîr?
___2: Past
______F:mana le agor? [ what did-thou?]
_________ mana agorel
_________ mana agoredh
_________ mana le agor sîr? [what do-thou today?]
_________ mana agorel sîr?
_________ mana agoredh sîr?
_____IF:mana agorech? [ what did-you?]
_________ mana agorech
_________ mana agorech sîr? [what do-you today?]
_________ mana agoreg sîr?
___3: future
_____F:mana le caritha? [ what do-will-thou?]
_________ mana carithal
_________ mana carithadh
_________ mana le caritha sîr? [what do-will-thou today?]
_________ mana carithal sîr?
_________ mana carithadh sîr?
_____IF:mana carich? [ what do-you?]
_________ mana carithag
_________ mana carithach
_________ mana carithach sîr? [what do-will-you today?]
_________ mana carithag sîr?

inquire: "Where are you going?"/ "Where did you go"
___1: Present tense
______F:mas le bâd? [ where go-thou?]
_________ mas badil
_________ mas badidh
_________ mas le bâd sîr? [where go-thou today?]
_________ mas badil sîr?
_________ mas badidh sîr?
_____IF:mas badich? [ where go-you?]
_________ mas badig
_________ mas badich
_________ mas badich sîr? [where go-you today?]
_________ mas badig sîr?
___2: Past
______F:mas le bant? [ where did-thou?]
_________ mas bannel
_________ mas bannedh
_________ mas le bant sîr? [where go-thou today?]
_________ mas bannel sîr?
_________ mas bannedh sîr?
_____IF:mas bannech? [ what did-you?]
_________ mas bannech
_________ mas bannech sîr? [where go-you today?]
_________ mas banneg sîr?
___3: future
______F:mas le beditha? [ where go-will-thou?]
_________ mas bedithel
_________ mas bedithedh
_________ mas le beditha sîr? [where go-will-thou today?]
_________ mas bedithel sîr?
_________ mas bedithedh sîr?
_____IF:mas bannech? [ what did-you?]
_________ mas bedithedh
_________ mas bedithedh sîr? [where go-will-you today?]
_________ mas bedithedh sîr?

inquire: "When will X X X again?"
__1: when will I see you again?
_________ ma  adgenithon le? [when re-see-will-i thou?]
__2: When will we see you again?
_________ ma adgenitham le [when re-see-will-we thou?]
__3:"When will we speak again?"
_________ ma adbeditham [when re-speak-will-we?]


response: "going to X"
__1: "I am going to X"
______ badin X [go-i X]
______ radon X [find-the-way-i X]
__2: "I will be goin to X"
______ badithon X [go-will-i]
______ radathon X [fine-the-way-will-i X]
__3: "I went to X"
______ bennen X [went-i X]
______ rannen X [found-the-way-i X]

response: Reffering to a time:
__1: "today"
______ sîr [today]
__2: "yesterday"
__3 : "day-light hours"
______ calan [daylight hours]
______ nan chalan [to-the daylight hours]
__4: "this morning"
______ aur hen [morning this]
__5: "tomorrow morning"
______ aur doled [morning coming]
__6: "tonight"
______ dû doled [night coming]
______ nan thin [to-the evening]
__7: "midnight"
______ fuin [dead of night]
______ ed uin fuin [out from-the dead of night]
__8: "time"
______ lu hen [time this]
______ adlu [previous-time]
______ i oslu [that around-time]
______ lu doled [time coming] [future time]
______ si [now]
______ lu doll [time (that) went]

response: Cardinal directions:
__1: "north"
______ forn
______ uin forn [out-of-the north]
______ nan forn [to-the north]
__2: "south"
______ harad
______ uin charad [out-of-the south]
______ nan charad [to-the south]
__3: "east"
______ rhûn
______ uin rûn [out-of-the east]
______ nan rûn [to-the east]
__4: "west"
______ dûn
______ uin dûn [out-of-the west]
______ nan dûn [to-the weast]
The Following is a growing list of Sindarin Common Phrases

If you see something that is missing or something that needs to be corrected...feel free to post

I have studied this language for 10 yeas, and am fairly confident in my accuracy and reliability to Tolkien's original intention while allowing for modern interpretations of Tolkien's work by professional linguists.

This is all i have done at the moment, and will add more when i have time.
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Sokka knew that Toph was beautiful, but at that moment, standing in front of him, he could have sworn she was one of the spirits.  Her wedding gown flowed around her small frame.  She almost looked like she was floating.

"Toph, please," he whispered to her.  "You don't have to do this."  He grabbed her hand as she turned away.  

She bent her head until her chin touched her chest.  "Yes I do."  She heaved a sigh.  "Goodbye, Sokka."

Toph began to walk away, into the fog that surrounded them.  Her hand started to slide through his fingers.  He grasped her tighter, determined not to let her go.  He knew that if she left him, he was never going to see her again.

"Don't leave me!"  He didn't care if he was screaming or begging.  He couldn't lose her like this.

She slipped out of his hold and vanished into the fog.

Sokka woke up feeling like he'd never rested at all.  He was sitting against the outer wall of the Bei Fong estate, arms resting on his bent knees.

He leaned back against the wall.  The sun had not yet risen, so he still had time before Aang and Katara left.  Maybe he could go back to Toph.  Maybe he only needed to explain himself better.   He just needed to talk to her alone for a few minutes, and everything could work out the way it was supposed to.

He shook his head.  There was no point.  She had dismissed him last night, there was no mistaking that.  She made it quite plain that she didn't love him.

So why had she kissed him like that?  Everything about it felt so...right.  

"Did you really sleep out here all night?"

His head snapped up.  Toph was standing in front of him, arms folded over her chest.  She was wearing her travelling clothes and carrying her bag over her shoulder.  "Morning Toph," he said, and shrugged.  "I guess I did sleep out here.  And what about you?  Headed back to Ba Sing Se?"

She nodded and pushed a piece of hair behind her ear.  She was wearing it loose again, a headband keeping her bangs out of her eyes.  "I was hoping it would be okay to stop there on the way.  I have to pick up a few things from my apartment."

"On the way?"  Way to where?

"Yeah.  I'm sure the Earth King could find something for me to do in the Fire Nation."  She tapped a finger on her chin and smirked.  "I do like the sound of Ambassador Toph Bei Fong."

"Ambassador?"  Sokka's mind reeled.  Nothing she said was making sense.  

"Sure!  Being an ambassador could be fun!  At the very least, it would mean a better room in the Palace."

Sokka rubbed his forehead with his hand.  "I know it's early and my brain isn't fully awake yet, but I'm so confused."

Toph took a couple steps toward him.  "Then let me explain.  Last night, this guy with a ponytail –"

"Wolftail," he corrected without thinking.

"Ponytail snuck into my bedroom, declared his undying love for me, and practically begged me to run off with him.  Now, I thought that was you, but if it wasn't, please tell me so I can go find him because he was one amazing kisser."

Sokka scrambled to his feet.  He couldn't believe what he was hearing.  She was really coming back to the Fire Nation...for him?  "Wait a minute," he said.  "I thought you made a promise to your parents and Lin."

"Well, I did promise to marry him."  She grinned at him, and he knew exactly what it meant.

"You're not telling me everything."  He crossed his arms in front of him.  "Spill it, Toph."

She sighed and smiled again.  "I also said that if ever the clumsy, obnoxious, clueless, oblivious, meat-loving, sarcasm-spouting..."  She paused and her features softened.  "...brave, caring, and completely wonderful warrior I fell in love with four years ago came for me before the wedding, I promised I would tell them before I ran off with him again."

A hundred things went through his mind.  "Wait a minute," he said.  "So last night, when you told me to leave, you knew what you were going to do."

"Of course I did.  I had to find some way for starting to make you pay for making me wait so long."

"Starting to?"  She only smirked.  He almost wished he didn't know what that meant.  "Hey!  Don't I get any credit for –"

"Snoozles."  She pounded her foot on the ground and was raised up by a small mound of earth.  She was eye-level with him, and she rested her arms on his shoulders.  "Would you just be quiet and kiss me already?"

Any objection he had was lost.  "Be quiet, Sokka," he said with a smirk, and leaned into her.

Their first kiss a year ago had been tentative and nervous.  Their second was rushed and heavy with passion.  But for Sokka, the third kiss they shared next to the wall of her parents' house was what he would always remember as their real first kiss.  It was light at first, and then deepened into something else entirely.  Something he couldn't describe in words, but he knew that it wasn't longing or infatuation.

It was love.

He wrapped his arms around Toph's waist and picked her up from her small hill.  He felt her smile beneath his lips, so he spun her in a tight circle.  The smile turned into a laugh as she clung to his neck.  

Sokka set her back to the ground and held her close to him.  Her head rested against his chest.  He could only think about how good he felt – even the pain in his shoulder had disappeared.  "Don't ever leave me again," he whispered to her.

"Promise," she replied.  She tilted her head up to him.  "Don't ever let me go."

He pressed her even tighter to him and smiled.  "Wouldn't dream of it."


Well, ladies and gentlemen, that's it. It's all over. Officially the longest piece of writing I have ever finished - 95 pages in Word (using Calibri 11pt - it would be longer if I used a different font :)), 37,773 words (wow, how palindromic).

There may be additions to this one day. There's a couple of scenes I had to cut out simply because they didn't fit into any of the chapters nicely. There's a conversation between Lin and Toph that has happened in my head and in the story, but there was no where to put it. Also, Zhan's back story is really tragic and depressing, I may delve into it one day.

A huge thank you to everyone that had read, commented, and/or faved this. It means more than you could ever know.

Special thank yous to :iconcapt-ba: and :iconmyah5000: for betaing the chapters, and to :iconthephoebster: for keeping me on-track when I would put this aside for a while.

And to everyone that hasn't figured it out yet, everything I've written for the Tokka weeks fits into continuity with "Heart of the Warrior." Also, the Pic & Fic entry "Heat" fits as well. If you reread all of them, I promise you'll find new little things I sprinkled in them to link to this.

Will I ever write a fanfic this long again? Probably not. I won't say definitely though, because stranger things have happened.

So, for the last time, thank you all, and if you enjoyed any of this, leave a nice comment below.

(Shame on everyone who thought Toph and Sokka would end up apart. I'm one of the mods of the TFU! Did you really think I wouldn't end this with one huge Tokka payoff? :giggle:)

Chapter One: [link]
Chapter Two: [link]
Chapter Three: [link]
Chapter Four: [link]
Chapter Five: [link]
Chapter Six: [link]
Chapter Seven: [link]
Chapter Eight: [link]
Chapter Nine: [link]
Chapter Ten: You are here
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Sokka's boot drummed on the wooden floor, an impatient staccato that pricked the quiet air like the point of a needle. He leaned against the wall behind him, listening to the chorus of clinking silverware and mindless chatter drift through a nearby doorway.

His breath whooshed out of him in a frustrated huff, his hands tugging at the folds of his formal Water Tribe garb for lack of anything better to do. On impulse, his neck craned to one side, then the other, his eyes roving both ends of the hall in hopes of catching a glimpse of something besides empty space. He'd done this so many times in the past few minutes, a bystander might've wondered if he had some sort of nervous tick.

Where in Spirits' name was she?

She was supposed to have met up with him fifteen minutes ago. Fifteen. Minutes. And he was still waiting.

Lucky for her he was such a nice guy. And that she was so cute, in her own abrasive way. Otherwise he probably would've given up and left about fourteen and a half minutes ago.

Faint, casual footsteps floated toward him from somewhere off to his right, gradually increasing in volume. Sokka's head snapped up so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash, short nails digging into his forearms, cobalt eyes watching the corridor like a raven-eagle on the prowl.

His pushed off the wall with a sigh as Toph — finally — rounded the distant corner, his shoulders sagging, annoyance flitting across his features.

"Well it's about time you showed up," he called as Toph approached, folding his arms over his chest. "Do you have any idea how bored I was? Counting the cracks in the floor is only fun for so long, you know."

"Hey, my job wasn't as easy as you'd think, Snoozles. Give me some credit, here." Toph halted a few feet away from him, mimicking his pose. Sokka pretended not to notice the way her crossed arms exaggerated her cleavage because sweet Agni that girl had filled out over the years and who decided she should wear that dress with that neckline anyway there was no way that could've been legal —

He shook himself out of his daze, clearing his throat nonchalantly. Toph smirked as if she knew exactly what she was doing to him — and judging by the way his pulse was hammering against his eardrums, she probably did. "So you got the stuff, then?"

Toph snorted, her expression mildly offended. "Of course I got it. What kind of evil mastermind do you take me for?"

She reached down and yanked up the bottom of her dress, scowling at the armfuls of fabric in her way. Sokka inhaled sharply, hand perching itself on the back of his neck as his body temperature rose a couple thousand degrees. It took all of his willpower to keep from staring at her legs.

After a moment's struggle, Toph apparently found what she was searching for; her gown cascaded back into place as she pulled out an innocent-looking bottle, clear liquid sloshing around inside it.

The edge of Sokka's lips twitched. "You kept that hidden in there? How did you —"

Toph held up a hand to silence him, her eyebrows furrowed. "Long story. Let's just say it's complicated and leave it at that." She passed the bottle over to him. "Think that'll be enough?"

Sokka peered through the tinted glass, a smirk crawling over his features as he examined its contents. "Oh, it's definitely enough. One sip of this and everyone'll be bouncing off the walls in no time."

"You know Katara's gonna kill you for ruining her wedding reception."

A shrug, a shift of his weight from one foot to the other. "I'm not ruining it, I'm enhancing it. She'll thank me later, trust me. As long as Aang doesn't hurt himself. That kid's kind of unpredictable — who knows what cactus juice'll do to him."

Something akin to affection glittered in Toph's misty eyes. "I don't really think Twinkletoes counts as a kid anymore, Sokka. He is twenty-one, after all. And he's married to your sister."

"Meh, he'll always be a kid to me. Even if he is my brother-in-law." Sokka's devilish grin softened into a fond smile. "He sure has grown up a lot, hasn't he? Of course, I guess we all have." He paused, eyes widening. "Wow, we're getting old."

Toph shook her head, arching a smug eyebrow in his direction. "Please, I don't get old. I just get taller. I'm as young as I ever was."

Sokka rolled his eyes, reaching over to tug on a strand of her hair that'd fallen from the mess of pins and clips Katara had arranged it in. "Whatever you say, Chief Beifong."

He cast his gaze to the open doorway just down the hall, where the hum of the reception beyond still rippled in the air. "Ready to go shake things up in there?"

A broad grin flashed across Toph's features. "I was born ready."

Chuckling to himself, Sokka tightened his grip on the neck of the cactus juice bottle, following a step behind Toph as she headed for the reception room.

They were just about to cross the threshold when Sokka abruptly latched onto Toph's arm, his fingers curling around her wrist and tugging gently.

She turned to him, the question clear in her expression before she voiced it. "What's up, Snoozles?"

Sokka swallowed hard, suddenly feeling very small. "You look beautiful tonight, by the way."

The words were hardly more than a whisper. Toph blinked in surprise for a fraction of a second, and then Sokka was lurching away from her, clutching his shoulder where her fist had slammed into it.

He gaped at her, irritation bubbling beneath his skin and a rebuff leaping to his tongue. Then he realized she was beaming at him, and whatever it was he wanted to say crumbled to dust before it could spring from his throat.

"Don't start getting all sentimental on me now, boomerang boy. We've got a job to do."

She let out a bark of laughter, leaving Sokka to stare in disbelief as she spun on her heel and disappeared into the room beyond the doorway. He straightened slowly, rubbing his injured arm absentmindedly.

His lips quirked upwards into a smile.
Prompt request from someone over on Tumblr. Not much else to say about it otherwise.

Avatar: The Last Airbender (c) Bryan Konietzko, Mike DiMartino, and Nickelodeon.
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