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...Círbann o Alassiel Meril-Finnel...

.....Mae govannen, randír.....

Name:
alassiel_elleth
Birthdate:
22 August
External Services:
  • alassiel_elleth@livejournal.com
  • ShdowCourtFae AIM status
History:
"My father was a high-born Eldar warrior of Imladris, who for many a year by mortal reckoning served Lord Elrond. When several members of his family sailed into the West, he did not yet wish to depart from the beauty of Middle-earth. Hence he rode on errantry for Elrond to the bright glory of Caras Galadhon in Lothlorien and spent the span of a moon's phase there before he met the one who would alter his fate forever.

He met and loved an elf-maiden of Lorien. I have been told by the House that raised me that it is from her that I gain the strange color of my hair, not the gold or silver of most of the Galadhrim, nor the night-borne color of those from Imladris.

My father stayed with the elf-maiden from that day forward, just beyond the borders of Lorien and eventually sired me. My mother went to dwell in the Halls of Mandos shortly after, though how, I do not know. Nor do I even know when precisely I first took breath upon Arda, or the names of those who bore me.

After the death of my mother, whose light filled the heart of my father like an embrace from the Valar, the warrior nobleman from Imladris grieved, and took the mewling babe I was far from my birthplace and to the dwelling-lands of Men in a lowly-populated region of Gondor. He brought me to the house of Galomir, a Man who had fought beside my father once, and was his friend. His kin would be the ones to raise me for generations of their lives. They, upon swearing an oath to my parentage, would never tell me anything more of my parentage than I have told you now.

My father left then, either to pine away from grief back in his homeland, or to join his kin in Valinor. All he left me was this blade I bear *She indicates the ancient and beautiful sword on her belt, the hilt made of gleaming mumak-ivory* and the elfstone I wear even now about my neck.

The last remaining member of Galomir's line died several years ago, and I have since traveled Arda, only recently coming into the settled company of other Elves for the first time, hoping to find a place where I may belong."

Traits:

Her hair is a highly unusual (for an Elf, anyway) dark shade of ruby red that falls in gentle waves to her waist, like deeply blooming roses in twilight; her eyes are a color akin to tiger-eye stones, a dark and deep mixture of chocolate and honey. Both of these unorthodox features are a constant source of self-consciousness to her, even if her pride doesn't allow her to show her discomfort.

With fair skin that faintly glimmers with the strength of her fea within her and fine, delicate facial features, Alassiel looks as if she could easilly be at the highest courts at any of the Elven
kingdoms.

However, whatever beauty is contained in her Arda-bound form is usually overshadowed within her by her unease and unsurety with herself when in the company of others of her kind. Her unusual colors of hair and eyes is the cause of a certain feeling of seperation from her Elven kin in her heart, but she overcomes it with a combination of her strength and focus. Because of her years of training and discipline, she's a formidible warrior when the
occasion calls for it.

This degree of warriorship has given her an ease and freedom of movement that brings to mind the effortless gallop of the mearas, as if borne aloft on the breath of the Valar.

Because much of her time is spent in the forests and wilderlands, she usually dresses more for comfort and practicality, but still indulges her love for beauty.

Her reverence for the natural creations of Iluvatar is reflected in the leaf and flower-inspired embroidery on her clothes, which usually consist of a riding dress with high collar and belled, flowing sleeves in a typical traditional Elven style, with breeches worn beneath and riding boots. Her clothing is most often wrought from rich and beautiful fabrics of deep shades reminiscent of both nature and jewels. She almost never wears jewelry, except for an ancient pure green elfstone once belonging to her paternal grandmother.

Although she may sometimes appear aloof to those that don't know her well, she's deeply compassionate and wears her heart on her sleeve once you earn her trust enough to pierce her self-protective exterior.

Alassiel loves just as fiercely as she fights and has absolute loyalty to those who are close to her. She loves to laugh with those she loves more deeply than anything else in the world.


She has ridden horses since she was tall and strong enough to mount atop one, and its a natural enough activity to her that one could almost think she was born upon a horse's back.

Sometimes when she is alone and daydreaming (which she does more than one would suspect), she will sing to herself; her favorite melodies to sing are lays to legendary figures like Beren and Luthien, or hymns to Iluvatar, the Valar, or Elbereth.

Sometimes, she has a propensity for being overtaken by her sense of loneliness and solitude. She's often bullheaded and stubborn when she thinks she's right, even if she's not in reality.

She has a habit of overcompensating for her lack of full understanding of social interaction with her own kind, hence seeming a bit stiff and cold when circumstances don't necessarily warrant it.

Because she looks a bit different from other Elves, she has an occasional tendency to be judgemental when it comes to others of her race, due to being the subject of scorn from other, less understanding Elves in the past.

Also, because of an incident while she was growing up among human children, she has an intense fear of drowning. (She was teased mercilessly for being different from the other children and was pushed into a river during the taunting...If it was not for one of
the members of the House she lived in hearing her cries for help, she would have drowned.) Having to travel across any significant degree of running water on foot can almost prove traumatic for her, due to the attached bad memories. The degree of her petrification
from fear is dependent upon the size and the rushing strength of the body of water she's attempting to cross.

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