The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post - Island of Sorrow Planning/Discussion Thread

piosenniel · 09-10-2005, 01:36 AM

The poor ghostie has made her appearance . . .

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NAME: Giledhel of Himring (Malris' wife)

AGE: 7187 years (Including the millennia since her death)

RACE: Once a Noldorin Elf. Now a houseless spirit.

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: While some of the warrior Coavalta cling to the weapons they bore in life, occasionally even choosing to inhabit them, Giledhel has no such great affection for tools of war.

APPEARANCE: Giledhel has elected to haunt her marriage bed, and usually hides within it. Sometimes she leaves it to examine her loom, smashed to pieces in the sack of Himring, and it is only in the torn, soiled embroidery that her former hroa can still be glimpsed. When the embroidery is possessed, it shows a stunningly lifelike upper half of an elven woman, in a hooded black dress, with hair so dark it almost has a blue sheen-a sheen reflected in her large, plaintive, pale eyes.

PERSONALITY, STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Giledhel barely remembers anything now. A permanent reel of images spins through her mind, all of a dark and tragic nature. It chills her and leads her to despair. Just occasionally, though, the freezing sorrow recedes slightly, and she sees Malris’ face, the face of her husband. In these moments she feels nostalgic, which is to say relatively happy; but they rarely last long.

In life Giledhel was animated, filled with unceasing energy, and possessed of a rare altruism; an altruism for which she paid the highest price, eventually.

HISTORY: Giledhel was not especially renowned in Valinor, where she was born; though she was beautiful, her loveliness was not of the proud, masterful the sort the Noldor appreciated, but in her vulnerability and kindness. She worked as a milliner and weaver beside her mother in Tuna; her father was one of Mahtan’s servants, a grim, rough-spoken smith whom she scarcely knew, as he closeted himself in his forge.

Contented and busy, she paid no heed to the long strife in the royal house; but on the day of Feanor’s return from Formenos, it happened that she was out to buy some bales of silk at the market, and so was caught in the momentous events of that time. Crowds were pouring into the square, and the news reached Giledhel’s ears that the King was dead, and his son was to give a speech; she was pulled along with the rest.

How could such a fair and utterly true maid be expected to resist the most captivating words in the history of Ea? Feanor’s speech flared her up as nothing had ever done before; and she was further convinced when she saw her father, out of the smithy for one, cheering all he was able. Despite the entreaties of her mother, both Giledhel and her father left with Feanor’s host. During the Kinslaying, Giledhel seized up a spear and fought beside her father as best she could.

Both of them followed Maedhros after Feanor’s death, and Giledhel was enraptured to know so well a father she had never before been close to. When he fell at the Dagor Aglareb, she was inconsolable; she tore her hair and wept alone on the threshold of their house. It was then that Malris, Lord Maedhros’ friend and banner-bearer, chanced to ride by; and his heart was moved. He wooed her for twenty years, crafting gifts for her and ensuring that she lived comfortably; and at last she accepted him. Their marriage was attended by Maedhros, Maglor, and Curufin; and Maglor prophesised that as long as Himring stood, the marriage would prosper.

After the Nirnaeth, his words proved terribly accurate. Hours after Malris had bombarded the walls of Himring to prevent its occupation by Morgoth, the Orcs were pouring in thick and fast. Moved to pity by the sight of a lone Elven child, Giledhel gave the girl her horse, and ran up the stairs to her bedchamber. There she sat at her loom, weaving “Malris, forgive me” in Quenya and in Sindarin.

She was discovered and slain by Orcs after finishing the Sindaring “forgive”; but something made her resist the summons to Mandos, clinging to what she knew, investing herself in the bed where she had been happy. There her spirit still creeps, waiting for some unknown peace to descend. Her loom has been shattered and the weaving torn, but the message, half-Quenya, half-Sindar, can still be read.

09-10-2005, 01:36 AM	#130
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,786	The poor ghostie has made her appearance . . . ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- NAME: Giledhel of Himring (Malris' wife) AGE: 7187 years (Including the millennia since her death) RACE: Once a Noldorin Elf. Now a houseless spirit. GENDER: Female WEAPONS: While some of the warrior Coavalta cling to the weapons they bore in life, occasionally even choosing to inhabit them, Giledhel has no such great affection for tools of war. APPEARANCE: Giledhel has elected to haunt her marriage bed, and usually hides within it. Sometimes she leaves it to examine her loom, smashed to pieces in the sack of Himring, and it is only in the torn, soiled embroidery that her former hroa can still be glimpsed. When the embroidery is possessed, it shows a stunningly lifelike upper half of an elven woman, in a hooded black dress, with hair so dark it almost has a blue sheen-a sheen reflected in her large, plaintive, pale eyes. PERSONALITY, STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Giledhel barely remembers anything now. A permanent reel of images spins through her mind, all of a dark and tragic nature. It chills her and leads her to despair. Just occasionally, though, the freezing sorrow recedes slightly, and she sees Malris’ face, the face of her husband. In these moments she feels nostalgic, which is to say relatively happy; but they rarely last long. In life Giledhel was animated, filled with unceasing energy, and possessed of a rare altruism; an altruism for which she paid the highest price, eventually. HISTORY: Giledhel was not especially renowned in Valinor, where she was born; though she was beautiful, her loveliness was not of the proud, masterful the sort the Noldor appreciated, but in her vulnerability and kindness. She worked as a milliner and weaver beside her mother in Tuna; her father was one of Mahtan’s servants, a grim, rough-spoken smith whom she scarcely knew, as he closeted himself in his forge. Contented and busy, she paid no heed to the long strife in the royal house; but on the day of Feanor’s return from Formenos, it happened that she was out to buy some bales of silk at the market, and so was caught in the momentous events of that time. Crowds were pouring into the square, and the news reached Giledhel’s ears that the King was dead, and his son was to give a speech; she was pulled along with the rest. How could such a fair and utterly true maid be expected to resist the most captivating words in the history of Ea? Feanor’s speech flared her up as nothing had ever done before; and she was further convinced when she saw her father, out of the smithy for one, cheering all he was able. Despite the entreaties of her mother, both Giledhel and her father left with Feanor’s host. During the Kinslaying, Giledhel seized up a spear and fought beside her father as best she could. Both of them followed Maedhros after Feanor’s death, and Giledhel was enraptured to know so well a father she had never before been close to. When he fell at the Dagor Aglareb, she was inconsolable; she tore her hair and wept alone on the threshold of their house. It was then that Malris, Lord Maedhros’ friend and banner-bearer, chanced to ride by; and his heart was moved. He wooed her for twenty years, crafting gifts for her and ensuring that she lived comfortably; and at last she accepted him. Their marriage was attended by Maedhros, Maglor, and Curufin; and Maglor prophesised that as long as Himring stood, the marriage would prosper. After the Nirnaeth, his words proved terribly accurate. Hours after Malris had bombarded the walls of Himring to prevent its occupation by Morgoth, the Orcs were pouring in thick and fast. Moved to pity by the sight of a lone Elven child, Giledhel gave the girl her horse, and ran up the stairs to her bedchamber. There she sat at her loom, weaving “Malris, forgive me” in Quenya and in Sindarin. She was discovered and slain by Orcs after finishing the Sindaring “forgive”; but something made her resist the summons to Mandos, clinging to what she knew, investing herself in the bed where she had been happy. There her spirit still creeps, waiting for some unknown peace to descend. Her loom has been shattered and the weaving torn, but the message, half-Quenya, half-Sindar, can still be read. __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.