It’s a big house this, and very peculiar. Always a bit more to discover, and no knowing what you’ll find round a corner. And Elves, sir! Elves here, and Elves there! Some like kings, terrible and splendid; and some as merry as children. And the music and the singing…
what’s their posture like in a normal situation? (guessing it’s this one?)
Glorfindel holds himself well, straight and tall and with a good stance. he somehow manages not to make it look like he’s looking down on anyone though (well, unless they’re a dwarf or a hobbit…or a lot of mortals…Okay. He looks down on a lot of people!). When he’s relaxing he tends to sprawl out, all long legs.
Glorfindel couldn’t actually say anything right then, so just held Ecthelion close against himself and stood otherwise stock still. He closed his eyes and concentrated very very hard on just that. To ground himself. Just the very fact that the other was in his grasp, his scent enveloping him, his voice sounding and all of the things he was feeling flowing right thr-
Nay. Not going to work.
The golden-haired lord grit his teeth and growled, low and menacing and tried to defuse the anger building up. It wasn’t often that he lost his temper but it was best to be well out of the way when it did happen, particularly if you were the one who’d sparked it off…
He swallowed hard and closed his eyes and was quite proud of his voice sounding to even and controlled in his own ears. “I might well pay him a short visit tomorrow,” he spoke up then, “I hope there aren’t too many people waiting on commissions from his workshop currently, he may be out of action for a while.”
Though Glorfindel held Ecthelion close he was still gentle, he hadn’t lost his head that far and likely never would. He rubbed soothing circles on the other’s back and sighed before pulling him over to sit.
"I doubt that’s wise." He said quietly as he followed him over to the bed, sliding into his lap and wrapping his arms around his neck, unwilling to let go. He needed the comfort now and there was no denying that. Burying his face in Laure’s neck, he sighed. "He’s still Turgon’s nephew. I think I hurt him enough while getting him off me…"
Though he spoke with reason now, he understood Glorfindel completely. If anyone dared to do such a thing to his spouse… Talking him out of sheer wrath would be as hard. Harder, probably. But he had enough time to think the matter over and over while laying under the cold water in the tub and he knew attacking Maeglin in return would really do no good.
"I’m no fool Ehtele," Glorfindel returned, "nor am I one for mindless violence. You know that better than any. I do intend however to see him, are you going to forbid it?"
He rose a brow at the other and shook his head before laying it gently over his shoulder, letting out a very long sigh. Although Glorfindel was very much bothered by what had happened he was less concerned for Ecthelion’s well-being than that of others whom the young elf who’d assaulted him might try it on with. It might well be someone less able to defend themselves next time and that couldn’t be allowed to happen. Not especially after he’d already been witness to how Maeglin had been round Idril for a time now and since Tuor had shown up with his nephew to be honest he worried over them quite a bit.
describe their hands
Hmm…Glorfindel has rather large hands, though not large as in beefy. His findels are long and slim and he has just a few calluses, not nearly as many as you’d expect with his profession. He keeps them soft with balms that he has made especially because though he doesn’t like people to know, he’s a little paranoid about having rough hands.
do they look up or down while thinking?
Actually neither. He’ll usually just look distant, either staring out over the view, out of the window or likely as not just narrow his eyes and zone out for a while.
⌆ a nervous tic or habit they do
⏀ describe their usual smile
⇅ do they look up or down while thinking?
❧ describe their usual sleeping position
✑ describe something they like without naming it
✜ what’s their posture like in a normal situation?
❖ describe their hands
❞ write a quote they would find themselves saying
§ how would their hair gray? or would they lose their hair first?
❤ describe how they show affection.
✭ what is one of their favorite items?
A faint blush tinged Laurefindil’s cheeks as he looked up at the other, “It’s been quite some time has it not?” he spoke quietly and looked about, “I would ask how you’ve been, if that’s not a delicate question to pose?”
"It has been some centuries since our last meeting if I remember correctly, so I you have possibly a lot to tell yourself" In truth, Nelyo had lost every sense of time since his captivity. He answered Laurefindil’s question with an indifferent voice, afraid that memories would possibly return "I assume you have heard half of the story anyway" Nelyo could not suppress a sigh, sometimes he had the impression that every single elf on Arda knew of his fate "But I fare well enough these days. Some things have changed though but I have learned to cope with it. "
"Half heard or read," he shrugged, "though there are plenty who know much who I’ve spoken to to be able to piece most of the whole sorry business together." He eyes Nelyafinwe with a smile, though his eyes showed a touch of hardness. Though family he still harboured a little resentment to the Feanorians, even if he felt sorrow mostly over all that had passed.
"I dare say you know enough of my own that I don’t have need to recount it all?" He asked as a question rather than statement for he knew not how long the other had been walking in the world again and his tale was long having been returned ages passed.