[Perhaps he will accompany him back, perhaps he will not. This is often highly dependent upon his mood, rather than enticement with any sort of trinket.
[Caring is an incredibly tricky thing, insofar that so very few who know him—who truly know him enough to apply such labels to an Endless—would not describe him as such. Distant and frustratingly obfuscated by mystery, bound by his duties, utilitarianism in place of warmth and even empathy, at times; this is how most would describe the King of Dreams as he sits upon his throne, lording over the Dreaming with an ever-watchful presence.
But, perhaps only ever so slightly, something has shifted in his time between that far-away then and the now. Enough to where even Dream can find the presence of mind to wonder how Johanna Constantine fares with her repeating night terrors now removed.]
Already, your time spent in the Dreaming has been filled with far more pleasant fare.
[Yes, proof that he already knew the answer to this. But confirmation is heartening on someone's end, surely.]
( it is oft not necessity that turns elvish minds to the winding paths of their dreaming realm, blending a living night with what Men may call sleep.
yet the place elrond's mind enters is one of rest, and a place of reflection, with the glimmering goldens of lindon's birches and the vast open waters beyond.
yet there is much that weighs heavy upon elrond's shoulders, as is the nature of melancholy so often found amongst the eldar. there is much hope, in his endeavors with celebrimbor, with durin — dear friend durin, who's lived 20 years of his life, that had seemed a mere blink to one who's years are all but in abundance.
he finds this high peak soothing; even from eregion, he revisits it now in the realm of his dreams. there is much to think on. he hopes galadriel had been greeted well in valinor, old song remembered, even if he finds an odd weight settling against his thoughts of his dear friend — missing her, yes, but something more. a falling star across that sky; a question in judgement or a hope for peace, much as she deserved, much as they all have. a knowing that should she be right, it is he who must keep his promise and wield the blade.
but today he finds another at this point of contemplation, amidst the golden leaves and hewn stone. he carves a tall figure, such stark contrast, the darkest night in a starless sky; a waystone around which whole galaxies might be born and yet elrond finds no discomfort in this intrusion.
ever curious he walks towards him, until he stands beside him, until he can turn to observe him. perhaps there is something that is known in this being; though he might look of Man, mortal he is not; some endless thing even in the eyes of someone who has seen as much removed from the mortality of time as he. elrond's smile is as pleasant as a summer breeze. ) Lindon welcomes you.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
for lavai (tfln)
And what would you be able to give me?
[Perhaps he will accompany him back, perhaps he will not. This is often highly dependent upon his mood, rather than enticement with any sort of trinket.
Yet he's still curious.]
for johanna. (tfln)
[Caring is an incredibly tricky thing, insofar that so very few who know him—who truly know him enough to apply such labels to an Endless—would not describe him as such. Distant and frustratingly obfuscated by mystery, bound by his duties, utilitarianism in place of warmth and even empathy, at times; this is how most would describe the King of Dreams as he sits upon his throne, lording over the Dreaming with an ever-watchful presence.
But, perhaps only ever so slightly, something has shifted in his time between that far-away then and the now. Enough to where even Dream can find the presence of mind to wonder how Johanna Constantine fares with her repeating night terrors now removed.]
Already, your time spent in the Dreaming has been filled with far more pleasant fare.
[Yes, proof that he already knew the answer to this. But confirmation is heartening on someone's end, surely.]
👀 ✨
yet the place elrond's mind enters is one of rest, and a place of reflection, with the glimmering goldens of lindon's birches and the vast open waters beyond.
yet there is much that weighs heavy upon elrond's shoulders, as is the nature of melancholy so often found amongst the eldar. there is much hope, in his endeavors with celebrimbor, with durin — dear friend durin, who's lived 20 years of his life, that had seemed a mere blink to one who's years are all but in abundance.
he finds this high peak soothing; even from eregion, he revisits it now in the realm of his dreams. there is much to think on. he hopes galadriel had been greeted well in valinor, old song remembered, even if he finds an odd weight settling against his thoughts of his dear friend — missing her, yes, but something more. a falling star across that sky; a question in judgement or a hope for peace, much as she deserved, much as they all have. a knowing that should she be right, it is he who must keep his promise and wield the blade.
but today he finds another at this point of contemplation, amidst the golden leaves and hewn stone. he carves a tall figure, such stark contrast, the darkest night in a starless sky; a waystone around which whole galaxies might be born and yet elrond finds no discomfort in this intrusion.
ever curious he walks towards him, until he stands beside him, until he can turn to observe him. perhaps there is something that is known in this being; though he might look of Man, mortal he is not; some endless thing even in the eyes of someone who has seen as much removed from the mortality of time as he. elrond's smile is as pleasant as a summer breeze. ) Lindon welcomes you.