Post by arwenundomiel on Feb 21, 2012 9:23:56 GMT -5
Arwen Undomiel
"From the ashes, a fire will be woken. A light from the darkness shall spring. Renewed shall be blade that was broken. The crownless again shall be king."
full name, Arwen Undomiel
nicknames, Evenstar, Undomiel, Lady of Imladris.
age, 2,500
class/profession, Royalty
marital status, Engaged
race, Half Elf
alliance, Fellowship
hair, Arwen’s hair is dark as night and long falling past her waist in thick waves that she leaves down most of the time or pulls back into braids if wearing it down becomes too much. When riding her hair is pulled back to keep it back out of her face so she can see. Her hair is often held back as well with circlets and intricate beaded and jeweled headpieces.
eyes, Arwen’s eyes are almond shaped and gray like twilight. They radiate wisdom and compassion though also seem to look into a person’s soul.
build and body, 5’5”, 120lbs, slender and lithe frame like most of her kin.
anything else, None
face claim, Liv Tyler
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likes, Rivendell- Having been born in Rivendell Arwen has always loved the beauty and grace of the place. Its many waterfalls and forest always bring a sense of peace to her in troubled times.
Her family- Arwen is very close to her father, brothers, and grandparents. She loves them unconditionally and she would lay down her life for them without hesitation. She looks up to her father and grandparents always learning and benefiting from their wisdom and experience.
Frodo Baggins- Frodo has shown a strength that has greatly impressed and endeared Arwen to him. She sees a courageous and spirited soul in the little hobbit that she believes will see him through the darkest of times.
Gandalf- The wizard has always held mystery and questions but Arwen’s faith in him has not wavered. He is well liked by the elven princess and she believes he always tries to lead people straight and true.
Aragorn- The love of her long life, Arwen has loved Aragorn for many many years, and she refuses to give up on him. She believes he will prevail and goes as far as to give up her immortality to be with him.
dislikes, The One Ring- The one ring is the root of evil and holds sway over so many that Arwen loathes its existence and what it can do as it is.
Sauron- Despite not being in a mortal body anymore evil prevails and Arwen’s dislike runs deep for Sauron who created the one ring to enslave middle earth so long ago.
Black Riders- Going hand and hand with the ring and Sauron the black riders are enemies to all that is good and they wish to take Frodo’s life and return the ring to its master. Its no wonder Arwen has a strong dislike for them.
Orcs- Orcs attacked her mother and poisoned her forcing Celebrian to head to the gray havens and never return.
Gollum- The twisted creature both hates and loves the ring and though Arwen does feel pity for him she also dislikes him for the suffering he puts others through in attempts to gain the ring back.
strengths, Arwen has a great strength of will as most elves do, and can resist the temptations given to her. This has come about through many meditations and prayers, as well as many failed attempts to control herself. Likewise, Arwen is very brave in many ways. She gave up her immortality for love, knowing that her life would end in sorrow no matter which path she chose, thus being brave to choose her own death. She defies her father in choosing Aragorn, something that required much bravery on her own part, since her father loves her very much and cannot imagine seeing her follow the mortal path. Arwen is also a gifted healer, as learned from her father, and when her father is not available to mend she does her best.
weaknesses, Though she appears very capable on the outside, Arwen feels that she is a mess on the inside. For being an elf she is expected to have her thoughts and feelings in control, balancing them during her many years in Middle Earth, but over the years these things have gone from organized to messy, and Arwen cannot explain why. Yes, she can manage herself quite well, but overall she feels the decay of her mind, and if lost in thought on this she oftentimes cannot be disturbed. Arwen also feels that her compassion for the people she loves most is a weakness, for if any of the people she loved were injured or killed she would not be able to control herself for a long while, as was the case with her mother. For a long time she could not be consoled, even after her mother had healed and gone to the Havens, and she still remembers that pain.
fears, Losing those she cares about to the taint of the ring or war.
Despite having given up her immortality to be with Aragorn she can’t help fearing Mortality to a certain extent.
dreams, Arwen longs to be with Aragorn once more when he has taken the throne of Gondor and become his queen. She also wishes to see her father and family content and happy, and to see the hobbits safe and sound.
personality, Passive is not a good word to describe Arwen, because she is anything but passive, but upon first glance this might be a good word to utilize. She has a calm demeanor, giving the impression to strangers of someone walking as if in a dream. When she speaks in conversation her voice is not loud or commanding, but soft and gentle. Harsh deeds are not something that are characteristic of Arwen, because she does not believe that the energy brought about by such things can do good.
Deep inside the elf are many swirling seas of emotions, from fiery passion, rage, hate, love, sadness, and happiness; all mixed together they flare in her mind as she thinks of the objects and people in life that render such emotions. Like all elves, she struggles keeping these emotions just below the surface so that she does not disrupt the harmony of the community, but whether they show or not they still exist. There are moments when her emotions flare through, causing her to seemingly burst out, but to her these are a long time in the making.
To talk about Arwen and love would be to speak of the beauty of the sun rising, for as each day rises there are different beauties that shine through. So is her love, her love for her family, for her people, for Aragorn and his cause. Every day there is something new she finds to love in them, something that causes her heart to very nearly break. This is how every day brings her love, new and unique but worn and cared for, joyous all around and terribly sad all at once.
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father, Elrond Peredhel: the master of Imladris, called Half-elven is Arwen's father. At the end of the Second Age, Elrond marched with Gil-Galad and Elendil, the King of the Númenoreans, in the Last Alliance against the evil of Sauron.
mother, Celebrian was an elven noblewoman, Arwen’s mother, and daughter of Celeborn and Galadriel. She suffered at the hands of orcs.
siblings, Elladan and Elrohir are Arwen’s twin brothers. They fought during the war of the ring and were friends with the Dúnedain of the North,
other figures, Celeborn and Galadriel, Arwen’s grandparents, she has always had a close relationship with them and has stayed with them many times.
lineage, Rivendell
history, Arwen Undómiel, Evenstar of her people, was born as the last child and only girl to Elrond Half-elven, Lord of Imladris, and Lady Celebrían daughter of Galadriel, the Queen of the Galadhrim in Lothlórien. In the valley of Rivendell she was born and she grew there surrounded by other elves and protected lovingly by her two older brothers, twins Elladan and Elrohir. She was cherished by her mother and was especially beloved by her father. Indeed, Elrond Half-elven loved his daughter more than words could say -- and his love proved a strong influence upon her life. Arwen oftentimes traveled between her mother's birthplace, Lothlórien, and her home in Imladris.
During the times she stayed in Lórien, she may have very well been one of the Yavannildi -- Maids of Yavanna. These elfmaidens grew and harvested the corn that was used to make lembas -- the waybread of the Lórien Elves. Arwen was well-educated, growing up in the house of Elrond. Her father was the master of Eldarin lore, and she was in contact with some of the greatest Elven minds of the age, Galadriel and Celeborn the Wise were her grandparents, Círdan the Shipwright was a close friend of her father's, and not to mention her many learned kinsfolk at Rivendell. Taking this into consideration, it is highly possible that Lady Undómiel was considered one of the Wise. Arwen's life continued on happily, until in the year 2509 of the Third Age, when tragedy struck the entirety of her family. Her mother, returning home from a visit to Lothlórien, was delayed in the Redhorn Pass by Orcs. While Celebrían tried to escape, and her escorts (including her sons) fought back, the Lady of Imladris received a poisoned wound. She did not die, and was rushed back home. Elrond was a master of healing, and soon, under his care, his wife grew well again -- but only in body.
Her mind was under such torment that it was agreed: the only way Celebrían would ever heal would be for her to journey to Valinor, to the Undying Lands. There she would find peace of mind and be cared for. With heavy hearts, her children and her husband bade her farewell at the Grey Havens, where Círdan's swan-fashioned boats journeyed across the Sundering Seas and out of the sight of those in the Middle-lands. This parting effected the family in different ways. Elladan and Elrohir, fuelled by anger and a lust for revenge against their mother's tormentors, oftentimes rode out in the wild, solely to hunt and destroy Orcs. It must have been a stunning blow to Arwen and Elrond, to loose her mother in such way, yet they found strength in each other. Elrond loved and guarded his daughter endlessly, and Arwen clung to him. The pain was lessened and the father and daughter grew closer than ever before. Thus, Arwen became the most precious thing in the world to her father...Three hundred years later, Arwen had just returned from Lórien and was walking in the forests of Imladris, when she heard someone call out a name that was not hers..."Tinúviel! Tinúviel!"
The owner of the voice was a young man, almost a child to her, named Aragorn. He had been raised in Imladris by Elrond, as he was the heir of Isildur, the man who bore the blood of Kings in his veins. He was captured by her beauty, and called her so because he believed she was Lúthien Tinúviel, elven enchantress of old, the most beautiful woman ever said to walk the Middle-lands, and Arwen's ancestress. Arwen replied that while she was not she, perhaps her doom would be not unlike Lúthien's. Although Arwen thought no more of him than a sweet young man, Aragorn fell in love with her that very moment.Elrond was perceptive, and could tell that his adopted son had fallen hard for his daughter, and told him gently that Arwen was far too above him, and that "she has lived in the world already so long that to her you are but as a yearling shoot beside a young birch of many summers. She is too far above you. And so, I think, it may well seem to her." And so it was. Aragorn, however, was not deterred, so in love with the fair maiden was he.
He set out on a journey to harden himself in the Wild, to grow, and perhaps, just perhaps...be enough for the Lady Undómiel. Thirty years passed in serene uneventfulness, when Arwen found herself in Lórien once more she met the young man from half a lifetime ago, or was he? Aragorn had changed so much, he was stronger, older, and wiser, there was nobility and there was strength within his heart. Arwen found herself falling in love with the man whom she had met so long ago. They spent the long days together, in love and carefree. The days turned until it was Midsummer's Eve. On the hill of Cerin Amroth, where the sunstar flowers of elanor bloomed, Aragorn and Arwen plighted their troth. Aragorn gently explained to Arwen that for them to be together, she had to choose to forsake the immortal life of her people...to choose mortality and death. It was the hardest choice Undómiel ever had to make, but she loved Isildur's Heir so much that she chose death.
Arwen saw her beloved only in quick intervals after that, and they were few and far between. Until one last return to Imladris, he was accompanied by four Hobbits, and the wheels of destiny where set in motion finally. The company stayed in Imladris for quite some time, and Arwen took the chance to steal her beloved away for a moment and show him the beginnings of a wonderful standard she was making for him, kingly and one that only the Heir of Isildur, the one with the blood of Kings, would display upon the battlefield. Aragorn departed shortly after that and Arwen could not bear to see him go. As Aragorn journied on his errands as part of the Fellowship of the Ring, the Evenstar watched over him in thought constantly, and worked upon the banner, weaving enchantment and her love for him within the threads, never giving up hope that she could somehow deliver it to him.
alias, Arwen is fine
age, 30
experience, 14 years
other characters, None
rp sample,The evening was drawing close, the light dimming swiftly in the West. The Sun had set long ago under the horizon, but its golden radiance still was lingering over the endless fields. Above, the sky was dark blue and high, and the evenstar glowed merrily at them, as if it was singing a song to summon the rest of the stars to join her.
His own Evenstar stood at his side, tall and beautiful in the twilight. She had a dark blue cloak over her shoulders, with its hood over her head. The fading light painted her hair as if it were made of black ink, the two curtains of curly dark framing her delicate face, her skin as white and smooth as the light of that star above their heads, her eyes so young and yet so knowing… For the first time ever, he remembered all those voices that had expressed their admiration about how alike their eyes were. He hadn't seen such likeness himself. It seemed to him that Arwen was the portrait of her mother, only with dark hair. Until now. Now he couldn't fool himself anymore. Arwen's eyes were knowing, wise, with an intent and serious gaze… just like his own. He didn't allow himself to think about the sudden warmth that this simple acknowledgement arose in his chest. He had an entire eternity to think, after all…
"Father…" Her voice was serene and even. She had a sweet and kind voice, and some sort of power within it, some sort of authority. Her voice was like Galadriel's. But yet…it wasn't. The voice of Galadriel was thicker and richer and Arwen's was sweeter, lighter perhaps. Strange that her voice reminded him of the Sea somehow…
"Arwen" He spoke the name slowly and quietly, as if to savor the meaning of it. Arwen. Daughter. She was still his daughter, still by his side, still with him. Tomorrow, he will continue his journey to Imladris and they would be parting forever, but tonight they were together, if only for a few hours. He dared not think about the next millennia. Not now. He focused instead on the light breeze that played with some tendrils of Arwen's hair, he focused on her gaze, her movements, and on the impossible task of making this moment last forever. Impossible, yes, even for an Elf Lord. But then, Elf Lords were not supposed to live through this kind of pain. It was a strange thing that one could be able to take part in the cruelest battles, to endure several millennia of sorrows among Elves and Men, and still, the one thing that managed to terrorize him after all that was precisely this very moment, this last conversation with the child of his heart. Elf Lords shouldn't live this. But fathers might endure anything for their children's happiness. And Elrond was, above all, a father. And he was not living this dreaded moment for himself or for the benefit of Good or Right, but for his daughter. This was what made all the difference.
"Will you tell Mother that I love her, please?" she asked softly.
Elrond felt the sudden need to cringe and he nodded instead. It was just like Arwen to remember her mother on a moment like this. And it was just like her to have such a generous and gentle heart.
"Yes" he answered. The night was closing itself around them, the gathering dark growing thicker, and Arwen's skin was starting to glow in the starlight "I will"
"Will you take care of her?" Arwen insisted.
Namárië
"You know I will, my daughter" answered Elrond quietly, in a carefully chosen and reassuring tone.
Just as he had half expected, Arwen lowered her gaze. She blinked and breathed in, slow and deep, and then she said in a low and fragile voice:
"Will you tell her…" another breath, though this one was more like a sigh. This was being difficult for her and Elrond waited patiently. "…that I have missed her and… that I am sorry?"
"Of course I will tell her", Elrond answered in that same quiet voice, "Don't be troubled about that. She'll understand".
"Do you, Father?" Arwen lifted her eyes suddenly and Elrond got caught again in that dark and deep gaze. There was sorrow now in those beautiful eyes. "Do you understand?"
"You do not need my understanding. You have my acceptance and my blessing".
"I know, but…"
"It's done, Arwen."
"I know" she repeated, more steady now, with forced calm. There was some kind of dignity about her, some kind of majesty. She would make a wonderful Queen. "Of course I know. But I would like you to understand before… We still have time. Please, Father, let us not depart leaving something like this hanging between us."
Elrond felt a surge of pride from his chest and this time he made nothing to suppress it. After all, this young Queen was his child and it was acceptable, expected even, for a Father to feel some kind of pride from time to time. But there was another feeling pushing up between his thoughts. Curiosity.
"Why do you feel that need to make me understand?" he asked.
"Because you are my Father. You know me like no one else. You have known me all my life, you know things about me that even Estel…" she caught herself at the last possible moment and she seemed to take her time to reconsider her thoughts and rephrase her feelings. Then, suddenly, she asked: "Have I been a good child, Father?"
Elrond blinked his surprise and confusion. He drew in a good deep breath.
"You are the best daughter a Father could wish for."
"But I am not asking about any Father. I'm asking if I have been a good child for you."
"You are" Elrond looked intently into Arwen's eyes "The best daughter I could ever wish for. You will always be. There is nothing…"
"Then why you do not want to give me this last gift? How can I make you understand?"
"Arwen" Elrond offered his hands and his daughter took them in hers. Her fingers were cold, but she squeezed his with an unexpected strength "Is my understanding a gift for you? Or is it for me?"
Arwen lowered her gaze again, to their joined hands. Elrond realized that she was trembling and he caressed her fingers carefully.
"It is for you, Father" she said in a low voice, still looking down "I… I do not wish you to leave without making peace here. You will not find that peace…" she breathed deeply and then whispered "…anywhere"
"Is it what you think, Arwen?" Elrond asked. His daughter nodded her head. She seemed now so beautiful and sad, so fragile, that Elrond felt a sudden wave of sorrow flowing through his heart. This was not supposed to happen like this. He would not be able to leave Arwen alone with that burden. He pursed his lips. His daughter needed one last lesson, then. And he was more than willing to teach it to her.
"Then, my child, you are seriously mistaken. For I do not wish or feel the need to understand why you made your choice. All I need is to accept it because it was yours to make and it's done and I, as your father, all I seek is your happiness. So, I think that the gift you spoke of would most likely be for you, for the peace of your soul. Don't you agree?"
Arwen looked at him with big dark eyes. She seemed surprised, but Elrond noticed that there was a single teardrop running smoothly down her jaw. He lifted a hand to stop it, to wipe it from that perfect face. He didn't know why but he felt strangely like he was catching with his fingers a small, liquid piece of crystal from his daughter's very soul. The thought was both disturbing and reassuring. When the tides of Time came to an end, he would still be here, in this field, at dusk, holding his daughter's chin with his fingers, wiping her tears as the father that he was and would forever be. And he knew that he had achieved the impossible because this very moment, probably the last moment of Arwen as a child and him as his father, was now carved into Eternity.
"You are right, Father" Arwen whispered, her voice melting with the light breeze and the shadows of the night "I… It has never occurred to me to think it this way"
"I know" He answered "Don't worry about that. You will feel this way yourself when your time comes to have your own children"
More tears were joining the first one and flowing freely down Arwen's cheeks. Elrond caressed her fingers again and asked softly:
"And now that you understand, what do you need from me to find peace?"
Arwen shook her head slowly, as if searching for words.
"Your forgiveness" she said in a small voice "Father, I am so sorry. If there was any other way…"
"I know you would. I have always known. There is nothing to forgive, my daughter"
Elrond reached for her, put his arms around her shoulders and held her tight to his breast, while his child wept quietly, with her face buried in the crook of his neck.
"Do you feel peace in your heart, Father?" she asked, between sobs.
"I do now. And I feel grateful for being here with you, even if it's to say farewell. I have done what I could for this World. Now it's your turn. And I know in my heart that our parting is necessary for you, for you are made to shine. This may be sorrowful for both of us, but in time you will understand that truth. You are bound to greater things both in this World and Beyond, my child."
"I love you so, Father"
Elrond caressed her shoulder, holding her tenderly.
"I know." He felt Arwen's shoulder relax under his touch, like the little child that she was at this moment, allowing herself to be soothed by the comforting hands of her father. "I love you too, Undomiel"
Elf Lords weren't supposed to cry. They were supposed to know better, to see the things of this World from above, to have a different point of view of Time and its creatures.
But Elrond Halfelven was now a Father, a grieved Father for the loss of the child of his heart. He won't have her again in his arms like this.
So the Elf Lord wept, with his face tilted to the sky, making his silent prayer.
Ná Elbereth veria le, ná elenath dín síla erin rád o chuil lín.
And the stars sung with their cold voices:
Namárië, Undomiel
credit to phips, don't steal!
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