Post by Tauriel on Jan 30, 2015 14:32:16 GMT
Tauriel dismounted her horse. She was in traveling outfits that were loose-fitting and comfortable, all of her hair tied into a large braid. She led the horse to a place where the ground was flat and removed her belongings from it, and then stood there awkwardly until some amiable Elf came and guided her the way to the stables, where her horse would be tended to.
It has not been her first visit to Rivendell, but her earlier visit had been so faint a memory that she can't even recall it very much. This time it was a traveling company of the Wood-elves that has reached Rivendell for some business - as for what specifically, Tauriel could not say. She had always regarded this place as one of wisdom and a reminiscent of the fair ages of old, but she never felt as merry as she had been in her own realm during their feasts and entertainments. Although the Valley of Imladris was a place full of wonders that she remained too young to understand, Tauriel did not feel too much attached or drawn to it. Plus, the wines weren't as half as good as their own.
But this was such a place where it was tranquil and the surroundings were quiet enough for her to contemplate things about her life, and to practice her skills on weaponries. Tauriel walked through half-familiar paths that led to a fountain, where woods that felt homelike to her stood not far away. The twittering of the birds sounded like a melody merry enough, but yet Tauriel was able to focus her mind. She meant to practice her archery there.
Tauriel stood away, and reached for her bow. The carvings that she did into the wood as a decoration still felt raw against the touch of her hand, but she was sure that it would be smoothened soon by the frequent handling. She took it out and put her fingers on the string to try out the tightness, and felt that it was okay from further adjustments. She retreated back a few steps, and stopped at the right distance for shooting.
Tauriel then reached for her quiver. She was glad and relieved to find out that there was still something inside, and she randomly picked out an arrow and fitted it to the string. Tauriel took a deep breath.
I am shooting that leave on that tree.
The breezes flowed by and made the leaves swing slightly. Tauriel steadied her arms from the mild trembling, feeling that she was still not quite the warrior that she dreamt of becoming. She closed one eye, and pulled out tighter.
She let that arrow fly.
Falyön
It has not been her first visit to Rivendell, but her earlier visit had been so faint a memory that she can't even recall it very much. This time it was a traveling company of the Wood-elves that has reached Rivendell for some business - as for what specifically, Tauriel could not say. She had always regarded this place as one of wisdom and a reminiscent of the fair ages of old, but she never felt as merry as she had been in her own realm during their feasts and entertainments. Although the Valley of Imladris was a place full of wonders that she remained too young to understand, Tauriel did not feel too much attached or drawn to it. Plus, the wines weren't as half as good as their own.
But this was such a place where it was tranquil and the surroundings were quiet enough for her to contemplate things about her life, and to practice her skills on weaponries. Tauriel walked through half-familiar paths that led to a fountain, where woods that felt homelike to her stood not far away. The twittering of the birds sounded like a melody merry enough, but yet Tauriel was able to focus her mind. She meant to practice her archery there.
Tauriel stood away, and reached for her bow. The carvings that she did into the wood as a decoration still felt raw against the touch of her hand, but she was sure that it would be smoothened soon by the frequent handling. She took it out and put her fingers on the string to try out the tightness, and felt that it was okay from further adjustments. She retreated back a few steps, and stopped at the right distance for shooting.
Tauriel then reached for her quiver. She was glad and relieved to find out that there was still something inside, and she randomly picked out an arrow and fitted it to the string. Tauriel took a deep breath.
I am shooting that leave on that tree.
The breezes flowed by and made the leaves swing slightly. Tauriel steadied her arms from the mild trembling, feeling that she was still not quite the warrior that she dreamt of becoming. She closed one eye, and pulled out tighter.
She let that arrow fly.
Falyön
