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[Oct. 25th, 2008|01:18 am]
amarieingwiel
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*has managed to avoid another run-in, mostly by leaving the hotel early and returning late and sending her entourage on ahead of her for reconiassance* (*wouldn't ever dream of changing her routine to suit others, of course—has had a full schedule anyway*)

*goes to bed after yet another productive day, satisfied that her new home will be ready for permanent residence come morning* *will be pleased to leave the hotel behind, for more than one reason*

*despite her excitement over the progress, has no problem drifting off to sleep*

[Anar has just begun to brighten the eastern sky when her hand slips into his, small and delicate and practically made to fit in the hollow of his palm. Perhaps yesterday she might have worried over her gown, or the pavilion, or the guest arrangements. Perhaps she might find the will to be concerned for such things, in a moment's time. For the duration of this single heartbeat, however, she knows nothing but the warmth of his fingers, the smile on his lips, and the sweet glimmer of promise in his eyes...

"Findaráto," she whispers, her voice pitched low and for his ears only. "I do believe I have forgotten the traditional vows. Will you be terribly offended if I am forced to contrive something entirely new by the time we reach the pavilion?"]
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[Oct. 18th, 2008|12:40 pm]
artafinde
[Tags|, , , ]
[Mood | chipper]

*despite her misgivings about leaving the city after the recent happenings (especially since she's a half-lobster cultist?), takes Turgon's advice and goes ahead with her planned trip to Ossiriand* *wants to see her Eruson before he's grown too big and she's grown too fat*

*arrives in the late afternoon, checks into the hotel, and confirms the next day's plans with Lúthien*

*decides she should go see a little bit of the town while she's here, so freshens up and heads out of her hotel room*
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[Jul. 6th, 2008|10:35 pm]
artafinde
[Tags|, , , , ]
[Mood | restless]

*after a tiring evening, falls into an ultimately uncomfortable sleep*

*stirs slightly at some point, but very quickly falls away again*

[There is darkness everywhere, a darkness unlike anything he has ever known before. He is ashamed to admit it, and would not admit it if asked, but he is terrified. This night has gone on forever -- without Treelight to tell the hours, for all he knows it has been forever. Now it is done. The harsh words have been spoken, the speeches made, and the decisions decided upon. There is just one thing left.

He rushes, as quickly as he can go, trying to find her. He does not relish what must come next, but he knows he will feel no peace until it is done. He will know no peace until she is at his side and he can see that she is safe and whole.]
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[Jun. 8th, 2008|07:18 pm]
amarieingwiel
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*gets into her hotel room very late/early after a night shoot*

*takes a hot shower and slips into her nightclothes, padding over to the bed with her hair in a towel* *settles into the mound of pillows stacked against the headboard, cell phone in hand*

*dials Ingil, knowing he tends to keep odd hours* *receives no answer, and so leaves a message* Hi, dollface, it's me! Just calling to check in, see how you're doing, how school's going, how Telu's treating you (very well, I'm sure, you know I'm just kidding)... I miss you, you know. I'll try to get down there to see you again soon, okay? Love you, talk to you soon. Bye. *smiles and hangs up*

*is soon absorbed in an infomercial for some kind of cleaning product* *absently wonders how in the world such programs manage to be so terribly engaging, especially when one is exhausted?* *thinks she may have to research this*

*dozes off just as the Kwik-Brite 9000 jingle starts rolling for the sixth time*

[It certainly isn't her first festival, nor even her first on his arm, but never before has he felt so right at her side, as though he has always been there (and always will be). She glances up at him, glimpses the mingled Treeslight reflecting in his eyes, and the ever-present friendly little twist at the corner of his mouth. Beautiful, she thinks to herself wonderingly. And for the first time in a long time, Amarië of the Vanyar is content to simply bask in the beauty of another...

"Will you be performing, Findaráto?" She curls her hands around his arm and leans into him, smiling brightly in anticipation of the answer. Out of the corner of her eye, she notes no less than four separate courtiers watching her--no doubt wondering what their Princess is doing, fawning all over a prince of the youngest line. Once upon a time, she might have cared for their opinion (or at least pretended to, for decorum's sake). Now, however, she cannot bring herself to even acknowledge their existence beyond subtly reaching up to touch the delicate diadem nestled in her hair. "After all," she continues smoothly, "you have been working so hard on that lovely piece you played for me the other day. It would be a shame if mine were the only ears to be so blessed."]
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[May. 26th, 2008|11:18 pm]
artafinde
[Tags|, , , , ]
[Mood | numb]

*is uneasy the entire day after her meeting with Amarië* *only half-participates in her evening phone conversation, glossing over the details of the day, intent on making them shine*

*finds her mind troubled, and distracts herself with paperwork late into the evening, eventually falling asleep over her work*

[She finds herself walking down a gently sloping hill of tall grasses, the world lit in a familiar golden color. A blanket is tucked under one arm, and the other arm ends by holding a hand, softer and smaller -- beautiful. It is only then she feels the rush of emotions that accompany this simple action: happiness, anticipation, peace.

"You will like this place. I am certain of it. Turvo and I found it not long ago and my first thought was of you. It's not far yet." It is with an air of detachment that she realizes she spoke the words, though the voice was not her own. It was her own, though -- her voice as it was when she was he. In this moment realization ends and experience begins and she is he.]
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[May. 25th, 2008|12:35 pm]
amarieingwiel
[Tags|, , , , , , , , , , ]

*spends a few private minutes in her limo, looking over the strip of mini-photos she and Ingil got from a booth during her visit to Ossiriand* *has to smile (genuinely!) at the silly goofy-face/bunny-ears/sibling-choking ones* :)

*sighs and carefully puts the photos away, exiting the limo with her gameface firmly in place*

*is immediately informed that some touristy-type gawkers have just arrived on the set*

*finds herself in a rather good mood and decides to go get rid of them herself, instead of making one of the underlings do it*

*heads past the lighting and camera techs and the makeup/script/blocking crew (barely noticing that they are parting before her and her entourage like the proverbial Red Sea)*

*spots the intrepid threesome and smiles her most winning smile flavored with just a dash of blatant superiority, of course*

Hello! I'm sorry, we cannot allow anyone beyond this point--too much going on, you understand, and I do believe I would KILL cry if any of the plot points were leaked to the Internet...

*trails off as she gets a better look at one of the gawkers in particular* *tilts her head in that polite "I am not fucking seeing this" manner of hers*

*at approximately -48 C* Findaráto.
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