Jack Vettriano After MidnightJack Vettriano Ae Fond Kiss
parted to make room for Thranduil. He stepped through the ranks, nodding his acknowledgement –
And stopped short.
Thranduil was a seasoned warrior. He had fought more battles than he could count; he had fought on the slopes of Orodruin, but the sight before him made his stomach turn.
An elleth lay in the middle of the clearing, dark hair tumbling about her face, grey eyes wide open, staring at the sky. A green-fletched arrow was buried in her chest. Thranduil stared at the sight in disbelief for several seconds before “Outside,” Thranduil said, but as the older Elves were about to leave the room Rochendilwen raised her head.
“No,” she said softly. “Say what you must inhe suddenly realized why Ellaurë looked so grim.“That is an arrow belonging to one of our warriors,” he gasped.Rochendilwen sat trembling in her chamber, clutching the cup of hot spiced wine that her aunt had insisted on giving her. Her hands were shaking so hard that she was slopping quite a lot of the wine onto her tunic.There was a gentle knock at the door, and the older elleth got up to answer it. She opened it a crack, and then opened it wider, admitting Thranduil.“Mídhaer,” the king said, inclining his head in greeting. “I would speak to you, if I may.”“Of course, hîr nîn.” my presence, my king… Saes. I must know the truth. I must know… what has happened.”
Thranduil hesitated.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Jack Vettriano Zara Philips by Rankin
Jack Vettriano Zara Philips by RankinJack Vettriano You Can't Come To This Party!Jack Vettriano Yesterday's DreamsJack Vettriano Working the Lounge
Disclaimer: Ok, This is the disclaimer for the WHOLE story. Just saying. I do NOT own Lord of The Rings, I don’t own any characters (But I wish I owned Aragorn and Legolas *drool*) and I must certainly do not own the plot/script from the movies. I’m curious…do you think if I was J.R.R Tolken I would be posting this on a fanfiction site? I would be rich. I would be in an A-M-A-Z-I-N-G bedroom/lounge room/study and LOCKS, ones to keep my brother and family and my brother (did I say that already?) at bay! My dad would have a car that was born this century and I would have a good laptop. You know, one of the flash ones that don’t have a new problem every three days…oh! And, of course, I would be famous…hmm…not to mention dead… I don’t fit that criteria…Anyway, I DO use quite a lot of the exact script or almost exact with a few alterations in this story because this is supposed to be a different version of the same thing. I own Evalyn/Ladies of Light/Weapons Of Galad/my first LotR story that is actually connected to the storyline (My others have been one-shots that happen afterwards, much easier to write) and I think it is turning out quite decently. If there are mistakes in timelines etc forgive me. I have never actually read the books and only knew Aragorn was raised as Elrond’s foster son and stuff, the basics. So if you wish to flame those kinds oIlliana (Shadowfax’s mare/Lady of all horses *grin*) Ok. I think that’s everything. If I forget anything I’ll either add it up here or peg at the beginning of that chapter…hmmm…This better not be a ‘perfect OC’ situation. You know where they always look perfect, have everyone fall in love with them, never get hurt etc. If it is I shall be pissed cos I hate my characters being perfect *frown*. I hope my Oc is somewhat realistic …for who she is *grin* ahhhh that’s right. You don’t know who she is do you? Oh…your problem then isn’t it. You’ll have to hope I enjoy updating won’t you? Yes, Yes you shall.Also, just to those people that many enjoy flaming people, this is f things, do so, but do not expect a comment or any acknowledgement
Disclaimer: Ok, This is the disclaimer for the WHOLE story. Just saying. I do NOT own Lord of The Rings, I don’t own any characters (But I wish I owned Aragorn and Legolas *drool*) and I must certainly do not own the plot/script from the movies. I’m curious…do you think if I was J.R.R Tolken I would be posting this on a fanfiction site? I would be rich. I would be in an A-M-A-Z-I-N-G bedroom/lounge room/study and LOCKS, ones to keep my brother and family and my brother (did I say that already?) at bay! My dad would have a car that was born this century and I would have a good laptop. You know, one of the flash ones that don’t have a new problem every three days…oh! And, of course, I would be famous…hmm…not to mention dead… I don’t fit that criteria…Anyway, I DO use quite a lot of the exact script or almost exact with a few alterations in this story because this is supposed to be a different version of the same thing. I own Evalyn/Ladies of Light/Weapons Of Galad/my first LotR story that is actually connected to the storyline (My others have been one-shots that happen afterwards, much easier to write) and I think it is turning out quite decently. If there are mistakes in timelines etc forgive me. I have never actually read the books and only knew Aragorn was raised as Elrond’s foster son and stuff, the basics. So if you wish to flame those kinds oIlliana (Shadowfax’s mare/Lady of all horses *grin*) Ok. I think that’s everything. If I forget anything I’ll either add it up here or peg at the beginning of that chapter…hmmm…This better not be a ‘perfect OC’ situation. You know where they always look perfect, have everyone fall in love with them, never get hurt etc. If it is I shall be pissed cos I hate my characters being perfect *frown*. I hope my Oc is somewhat realistic …for who she is *grin* ahhhh that’s right. You don’t know who she is do you? Oh…your problem then isn’t it. You’ll have to hope I enjoy updating won’t you? Yes, Yes you shall.Also, just to those people that many enjoy flaming people, this is f things, do so, but do not expect a comment or any acknowledgement
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Jack Vettriano The Cocktail Shaker
Jack Vettriano The Cocktail ShakerJack Vettriano The City CafeJack Vettriano The Cigar DivanJack Vettriano The British Are Coming
returned to his rooms after the match to find Bunter debating the relative merits of charcoal grey versus anthracite socks as High Table attire. "Although since the College was victorious, my lord, I venture to recommend the grisailles as indicating a desire to share in the general esprit de corps."
"Charcoal will do fine," said his lordship, with the air of a man with a mind above socks. "Bunter, I don't suppose that by any remote and unlikely chance you packed my magnifying monocle, did you? All right, you needn't look so beastly smug about it. Wait, I feel a prediction coming on. You have brought the fingerprint powder and the insufflator as Julia Pastrana."
"Am I to understand, my lord, that something in the nature of a detective case has aroused your interest?"
"You are, and it has. Do you know, Bunter, I thought I'd had enouwell. Tell me, Bunter, do you have a little crystal ball that you consult before hauling out the suitcases? Or do you sit up of nights, communing with juggling fiends? Because I don't see how else you could possibly have known we were going to need all this stuff. We haven't used it for years.""I have long admired Lord Baden Powell's maxim that one should always be prepared, my lord," replied Bunter, throttling every hint of excitement with the ruthlessness of a thuggee."You are a wonder of nature," said Lord Peter admiringly. "When you die, they will pickle your remains and put them on display for posterity to gawp at, like a domestic gh of murder, what with the war and all that, not to mention corpses rudely forcing themselves on my attention wherever I went. Things have come to a pretty pass
returned to his rooms after the match to find Bunter debating the relative merits of charcoal grey versus anthracite socks as High Table attire. "Although since the College was victorious, my lord, I venture to recommend the grisailles as indicating a desire to share in the general esprit de corps."
"Charcoal will do fine," said his lordship, with the air of a man with a mind above socks. "Bunter, I don't suppose that by any remote and unlikely chance you packed my magnifying monocle, did you? All right, you needn't look so beastly smug about it. Wait, I feel a prediction coming on. You have brought the fingerprint powder and the insufflator as Julia Pastrana."
"Am I to understand, my lord, that something in the nature of a detective case has aroused your interest?"
"You are, and it has. Do you know, Bunter, I thought I'd had enouwell. Tell me, Bunter, do you have a little crystal ball that you consult before hauling out the suitcases? Or do you sit up of nights, communing with juggling fiends? Because I don't see how else you could possibly have known we were going to need all this stuff. We haven't used it for years.""I have long admired Lord Baden Powell's maxim that one should always be prepared, my lord," replied Bunter, throttling every hint of excitement with the ruthlessness of a thuggee."You are a wonder of nature," said Lord Peter admiringly. "When you die, they will pickle your remains and put them on display for posterity to gawp at, like a domestic gh of murder, what with the war and all that, not to mention corpses rudely forcing themselves on my attention wherever I went. Things have come to a pretty pass
Jack Vettriano The Duellists
Jack Vettriano The DuellistsJack Vettriano The DrifterJack Vettriano The Direct Approach
swathe through the academic institutions of Europe, you mean? Might be rather obvious if dons start dropping like flies every time our man shows up. I suppose his academic credentials are genuine?"
"I did have a quiet word with his supervisor, and the work he's done here on quantum mechanics entirely lives up to his references, so he's the real thing in that respect. Mind you, there wouldn't be much point in getting a man into Cambridge who wasn't up to it intellectually, he'd be found out in no time."
"And is it a convincing allegation? I mean, was Black the sort of chap the KGB would want to rub out?"
"It's possible, I suppose. He was staunchly anti-communist. I don't know if his Red-baiting activities extended beyond lengthy in it, but why don't you go to the police and let them investigate?”
"And suppose this isn't a tip-off, but just some spiteful little cad who's got it in for Kuryakin? Once he's tarred with that brush, he'll never get clean again, even if the policrants over the port, but if they did, that might account for it.""What about his research? What was he working on when he died?"The Master looked vague. Keeping up with the research activities of his Fellows was evidently something he regarded as going above and beyond the call of duty. "Something to do with number theory, I should think," he said hesitantly. "That was his field. I suppose he might have stumbled across something significant, but it's hard to imagine what. It's no good asking me about it, I'm an applied chap. Pure mathematics isn't my thing."Peter nodded. "It doesn't sound as if there's anything e prove his innocence ten times over."
"And neither will Christ's? 'Commie College Harbours KGB Hit Man' sort of thing?"
"I admit I'd rather avoid those sorts of headlines if I can. I wish you'd do a spot
swathe through the academic institutions of Europe, you mean? Might be rather obvious if dons start dropping like flies every time our man shows up. I suppose his academic credentials are genuine?"
"I did have a quiet word with his supervisor, and the work he's done here on quantum mechanics entirely lives up to his references, so he's the real thing in that respect. Mind you, there wouldn't be much point in getting a man into Cambridge who wasn't up to it intellectually, he'd be found out in no time."
"And is it a convincing allegation? I mean, was Black the sort of chap the KGB would want to rub out?"
"It's possible, I suppose. He was staunchly anti-communist. I don't know if his Red-baiting activities extended beyond lengthy in it, but why don't you go to the police and let them investigate?”
"And suppose this isn't a tip-off, but just some spiteful little cad who's got it in for Kuryakin? Once he's tarred with that brush, he'll never get clean again, even if the policrants over the port, but if they did, that might account for it.""What about his research? What was he working on when he died?"The Master looked vague. Keeping up with the research activities of his Fellows was evidently something he regarded as going above and beyond the call of duty. "Something to do with number theory, I should think," he said hesitantly. "That was his field. I suppose he might have stumbled across something significant, but it's hard to imagine what. It's no good asking me about it, I'm an applied chap. Pure mathematics isn't my thing."Peter nodded. "It doesn't sound as if there's anything e prove his innocence ten times over."
"And neither will Christ's? 'Commie College Harbours KGB Hit Man' sort of thing?"
"I admit I'd rather avoid those sorts of headlines if I can. I wish you'd do a spot
Monday, April 27, 2009
Jack Vettriano Dance Me To The End Of Love
Jack Vettriano Dance Me To The End Of LoveJack Vettriano Dance Me to the End of Love IJack Vettriano Couple On The Promenade
shot often appeared to arc higher, and a few of the missiles had landed in the Third Circle. Maybe the east wind had helped carry this shot, the shot used by the Enemy to dishearten and horrify those who defied him, and who had defied him for so very, very long.
In the Third Circle, Pippin had veered off the main street toward the walls, trying to find out if Gandalf was here, on this level. The defenders here were mostly Men of the City who’d stayed behind to offer defense for the capital of the realm, in many cases armed with swords and spears once carried by members of their houses many generations dead, swords and spears nonetheless maintained and kept sharp and oiled for centuries, or perhaps even millennia. and the Man closest to him, a tall, slender fellow dressed in clothing that had once been fine, but was now torn and stained with sweat and smoke. Both the Man and Pippin had looked on it first with curiosity and then with shock and horror as they recognized what it was--a head, branded with the Eye, eyes still open in blind horror, mouth wide in an interrupted cry of agony.Those Guardsmen who remained in this level either defended the gates or manned the trebuchets, assisted by Men of the City and the least trained of those from the southlands who’d come to face the Enemy here, those who’d volunteered from the fishing fleets or left their farms or their forestry work or their watch upon the dams built for flood control to come to the aid of Minas Tirith.A number of the small, roughly rounded missiles were let loose by one of the Enemy’s catapults that had been dragged close to the wall to the First Circle, and they’d cleared the wall of the Third Circle and had fallen among the defenders. One had fallen between Pippin
The hair was dark and curly, and extraordinarily familiar, and Pippin had a moment
shot often appeared to arc higher, and a few of the missiles had landed in the Third Circle. Maybe the east wind had helped carry this shot, the shot used by the Enemy to dishearten and horrify those who defied him, and who had defied him for so very, very long.
In the Third Circle, Pippin had veered off the main street toward the walls, trying to find out if Gandalf was here, on this level. The defenders here were mostly Men of the City who’d stayed behind to offer defense for the capital of the realm, in many cases armed with swords and spears once carried by members of their houses many generations dead, swords and spears nonetheless maintained and kept sharp and oiled for centuries, or perhaps even millennia. and the Man closest to him, a tall, slender fellow dressed in clothing that had once been fine, but was now torn and stained with sweat and smoke. Both the Man and Pippin had looked on it first with curiosity and then with shock and horror as they recognized what it was--a head, branded with the Eye, eyes still open in blind horror, mouth wide in an interrupted cry of agony.Those Guardsmen who remained in this level either defended the gates or manned the trebuchets, assisted by Men of the City and the least trained of those from the southlands who’d come to face the Enemy here, those who’d volunteered from the fishing fleets or left their farms or their forestry work or their watch upon the dams built for flood control to come to the aid of Minas Tirith.A number of the small, roughly rounded missiles were let loose by one of the Enemy’s catapults that had been dragged close to the wall to the First Circle, and they’d cleared the wall of the Third Circle and had fallen among the defenders. One had fallen between Pippin
The hair was dark and curly, and extraordinarily familiar, and Pippin had a moment
Jack Vettriano The Direct Approach
Jack Vettriano The Direct ApproachJack Vettriano The Defenders of VirtueJack Vettriano The Cocktail ShakerJack Vettriano The City Cafe
looked deeply into his son's eyes, then away. Faramir had been surprised at what he'd seen there, a deep longing for something he couldn't understand. He'd surprised hints of that in his father's eyes in the past, when he and Goldilocks were married, when his father had held his first grandchild in his arms, and at very odd moments before that, usually after Pippin had been sitting, smoking his pipe, on a hilltop looking Westward. Finally he hazarded a guess: "Are you especially missing Uncle Frodo now?"
His father gave a slight shrug. "In part."
"But why now, Da? He's gone now beyond the West."
"I know, and Sam with him."
"Are you running "And Uncle Merry's going with you?"
"Yes. You saw the note - Éomer is dying and wishes his Holdwine ataway to die, the way he did?" It was a cruel thing to say, and he knew it. It was what so many had said of Frodo in the past how many years - that Frodo Baggins had been dying and had left that he not have a fussy funeral and then be forgotten. Rather than that, the gossip ran, he'd ridden off with the Elves so he could leave those of his kin who still mistakenly loved and cared for him forever guessing as to whether he was yet alive or dead, avoiding the expense of funerals altogether and prolonging the grief.He saw the pain in his father's eyes. "I suppose you might say I'm doing just that, Faramir Took," he finally answered, "although if I know Aragorn he will not spare expense on my funeral when it comes.""Then you are going to Gondor.""By way of Rohan - yes."
looked deeply into his son's eyes, then away. Faramir had been surprised at what he'd seen there, a deep longing for something he couldn't understand. He'd surprised hints of that in his father's eyes in the past, when he and Goldilocks were married, when his father had held his first grandchild in his arms, and at very odd moments before that, usually after Pippin had been sitting, smoking his pipe, on a hilltop looking Westward. Finally he hazarded a guess: "Are you especially missing Uncle Frodo now?"
His father gave a slight shrug. "In part."
"But why now, Da? He's gone now beyond the West."
"I know, and Sam with him."
"Are you running "And Uncle Merry's going with you?"
"Yes. You saw the note - Éomer is dying and wishes his Holdwine ataway to die, the way he did?" It was a cruel thing to say, and he knew it. It was what so many had said of Frodo in the past how many years - that Frodo Baggins had been dying and had left that he not have a fussy funeral and then be forgotten. Rather than that, the gossip ran, he'd ridden off with the Elves so he could leave those of his kin who still mistakenly loved and cared for him forever guessing as to whether he was yet alive or dead, avoiding the expense of funerals altogether and prolonging the grief.He saw the pain in his father's eyes. "I suppose you might say I'm doing just that, Faramir Took," he finally answered, "although if I know Aragorn he will not spare expense on my funeral when it comes.""Then you are going to Gondor.""By way of Rohan - yes."
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Jack Vettriano The Mad Hairdresser study
Jack Vettriano The Mad Hairdresser studyJack Vettriano The LetterJack Vettriano The Last Great RomanticJack Vettriano The Innocentstransplanted them.”
“Yes, Master, I transplanted them.”
“Your . “I will.”
Sam left him, glad that his Master’s mood was lighter, somehow. He’d been better the last few days, some decision made that had been long put off, he sensed. But that decision had also left him solemn. Now his mood was brightened, as if the simple act of him, Sam, transplanting lily bulbs had somehow lightened his thought.
As Sam closed the door quietly behind himself, Frodo sat, thinking on thedad--he’d just dump the extra bulbs.”“Lots o’ times, yes. But I don’t hold with that kind of waste, you know. There’s no need to let the beauty go to naught.” He was beginning to understand what had always bothered Mr. Frodo about thinning, realized he was happy to know the potential for beauty was still going on, just shared out throughout the neighborhood.Frodo leaned his head back in his chair, his face less lined, his smile lighting up the room for all he’d closed his eyes. Even his Light seemed brighter this morning. “Thank you, Sam. Thank you.”“You eat that now, Mr. Frodo.”“I will, Sam.” He opened his eyes, and they, too, were smiling transplanted
“Yes, Master, I transplanted them.”
“Your . “I will.”
Sam left him, glad that his Master’s mood was lighter, somehow. He’d been better the last few days, some decision made that had been long put off, he sensed. But that decision had also left him solemn. Now his mood was brightened, as if the simple act of him, Sam, transplanting lily bulbs had somehow lightened his thought.
As Sam closed the door quietly behind himself, Frodo sat, thinking on thedad--he’d just dump the extra bulbs.”“Lots o’ times, yes. But I don’t hold with that kind of waste, you know. There’s no need to let the beauty go to naught.” He was beginning to understand what had always bothered Mr. Frodo about thinning, realized he was happy to know the potential for beauty was still going on, just shared out throughout the neighborhood.Frodo leaned his head back in his chair, his face less lined, his smile lighting up the room for all he’d closed his eyes. Even his Light seemed brighter this morning. “Thank you, Sam. Thank you.”“You eat that now, Mr. Frodo.”“I will, Sam.” He opened his eyes, and they, too, were smiling transplanted
Friday, April 24, 2009
Jack Vettriano Just Another Day
Jack Vettriano Just Another DayJack Vettriano Jealous HeartJack Vettriano Incident On The PromenadeJack Vettriano in the heat of the day
spoke, his voice softer and more refined. “You carry the fates of us all, Frodo. If this is indeed the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done.”her mouth, then shut it, then opened it again and said plainly, “I was curious, my lord. And, also, my lord, I was rather bothered that you did not allow me to sit in as normal, so I decided to invite myself, if you do not mind.” She scrunched her nose then, and sighed, realizing what she had said. A chuckle came from her right, and she glanced over to see Boromir’s mouth curved in an entertained smile.Elrond prepared to respond, but two more Hobbits came running out from another building without warning and planted themselves on either side of Sam and Frodo.“We’re coming too!” exclaimed one.“You’d have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!” said the other.“Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission, quest... thing,” the first Hobbit stated.“Well, that’d leave you out, Pip.”
Sam could take it no longer. “It’s not right!” he hissed, and leapt up with a cry, racing into the courtyard. Without thinking, Cristiel jumped to her feet and yelled for him to come back, then quickly shut her mouth and regretted even listening in on the council. Sam had already planted himself next to Frodo, exclaiming, “Mr. Frodo’s not goin’ anywhere without me!”
Gandalf made some grumbling comment about Hobbits and separation, but all the attentions of the rest of the council were placed directly on Cristiel. She took a breath and clasped her hands in front of her, hesitated, then took a step out of the courtyard. She was a second too late, however.
“May I ask just what you are doing here?” Elrond asked, his expression showing plainly his utter distaste for the mishap that had just occurred.
Cristiel opened “Enough!” said Elrond sharply. “I will speak with you in twenty minutes,” he said to Cristiel
spoke, his voice softer and more refined. “You carry the fates of us all, Frodo. If this is indeed the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done.”her mouth, then shut it, then opened it again and said plainly, “I was curious, my lord. And, also, my lord, I was rather bothered that you did not allow me to sit in as normal, so I decided to invite myself, if you do not mind.” She scrunched her nose then, and sighed, realizing what she had said. A chuckle came from her right, and she glanced over to see Boromir’s mouth curved in an entertained smile.Elrond prepared to respond, but two more Hobbits came running out from another building without warning and planted themselves on either side of Sam and Frodo.“We’re coming too!” exclaimed one.“You’d have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!” said the other.“Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission, quest... thing,” the first Hobbit stated.“Well, that’d leave you out, Pip.”
Sam could take it no longer. “It’s not right!” he hissed, and leapt up with a cry, racing into the courtyard. Without thinking, Cristiel jumped to her feet and yelled for him to come back, then quickly shut her mouth and regretted even listening in on the council. Sam had already planted himself next to Frodo, exclaiming, “Mr. Frodo’s not goin’ anywhere without me!”
Gandalf made some grumbling comment about Hobbits and separation, but all the attentions of the rest of the council were placed directly on Cristiel. She took a breath and clasped her hands in front of her, hesitated, then took a step out of the courtyard. She was a second too late, however.
“May I ask just what you are doing here?” Elrond asked, his expression showing plainly his utter distaste for the mishap that had just occurred.
Cristiel opened “Enough!” said Elrond sharply. “I will speak with you in twenty minutes,” he said to Cristiel
Jack Vettriano The Shape Of Things To Come
Jack Vettriano The Shape Of Things To ComeJack Vettriano The Set UpJack Vettriano The Same Old Game IIJack Vettriano The Sailor's ToyJack Vettriano The Runaways
think. I don't even remember falling asleep. I suppose the perfect weather today might have had something to do with it.”
Tawariel smiled. “I'll never understand how you Dunedain can suddenly fall unconscious, and then wake up later, on cue, and feel bright and refreshed. I shall never understand it!”
“And you have no need to. You are elf-kind. I am not. That is our only difference.”
Tawariel raised an eyebrow. “I beg to differ.”
“Alright, so we do have our differences. But opposites can attract too.”
“Yes...”
They sat silent for a while, dangling their feet in the crystal clear pool and watching as tiny fish nibbled at their toes.
“Oh, I'vetake my meaning. Elves are just too... oh, I can't say it! It might hurt you.”
“Please say it. Honesty is a wonderful trait, and I don't care how brutal.”
Cristiel sent her friend a timid sideways look. “Elves are just too perfect.”
Tawariel raised both of her eyebrows and sat quietly for a moment.
“I warned you.” just thought of something,” said Tawariel.“What is that?”“Well, since you know about my—how shall I say it—pining for Lindir, I would love to know if you have your eye on anyone, even an elf.”“I—well—I guess I have never really 'liked' anyone, if you
think. I don't even remember falling asleep. I suppose the perfect weather today might have had something to do with it.”
Tawariel smiled. “I'll never understand how you Dunedain can suddenly fall unconscious, and then wake up later, on cue, and feel bright and refreshed. I shall never understand it!”
“And you have no need to. You are elf-kind. I am not. That is our only difference.”
Tawariel raised an eyebrow. “I beg to differ.”
“Alright, so we do have our differences. But opposites can attract too.”
“Yes...”
They sat silent for a while, dangling their feet in the crystal clear pool and watching as tiny fish nibbled at their toes.
“Oh, I'vetake my meaning. Elves are just too... oh, I can't say it! It might hurt you.”
“Please say it. Honesty is a wonderful trait, and I don't care how brutal.”
Cristiel sent her friend a timid sideways look. “Elves are just too perfect.”
Tawariel raised both of her eyebrows and sat quietly for a moment.
“I warned you.” just thought of something,” said Tawariel.“What is that?”“Well, since you know about my—how shall I say it—pining for Lindir, I would love to know if you have your eye on anyone, even an elf.”“I—well—I guess I have never really 'liked' anyone, if you
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Jack Vettriano Night Preparations
Jack Vettriano Night PreparationsJack Vettriano night NegotiationsJack Vettriano night in the CityJack Vettriano Night GeometryJack Vettriano Narcissistic Bathers
heard two high-pitched whimpers several paces behind him--Berior and Brethil. He also heard two bows creak as they were drawn and, seconds later, he saw two arrows fly by him. They struck the spider that had charged them. One hit the spider's body and flew off into the ferns as Legolas's arrow had done. The second was a more fortunate shot, hitting the spider above its sharp beak. The spider screeched and backed off hurriedly.
"Aim for their heads," Galithil shouted, loosing his own arrow and targeting the same spider that Brethil and Berior's arrows had struck. Galithil's arrow sank into the spider's eye, causing it to scream and curl into itself.
Legolas reached into his quiver to follow his cousin's example. As he did, the other spider spit a web towards him. It stuck to the hand holding his bow. Legolas could not suppress a frightened yelp. He jerked his arm backward and the yelp stretched into an incoherent shriek when he could not pull free of the web. Shaking his hand frantically, trying to dislodge the web and resist the spider's tug on it, Legolas drew his knife and brought the blade down across the thick, sticky rope. The knife cut through, but the dark strand clung to the blade. Legolas shook it loose and shoved the knife back into its sheath. Then he reached for an arrow and fit it against his bowstring. Releasing it, the arrow struck the spider that had tried to bind him in its web squarely in an eye. One of Galithil's arrows flew scanned the trees with wide eyes.
"If there are anymore, it is too dark to see them," Berior replied after a moment, panic causing his voice to rise in pitch.into the spider's other eye and it dropped to the ground, its legs splayed out around it.Legolas pulled out another arrow, and saw Galithil doing the same next to him, but before he could put it to use, Brethil and Berior's bows twanged and the second spider squealed and fell to the ground, two arrows in its eyes.Legolas's breath came in short pants as he stared at the unmoving spiders."Where are Anastor and Noruil?" Galithil asked. His voice shook as badly as his hands."Ran towards the Path," Berior gasped, breathless."Is that all of them? All of the spiders?" Brethil asked, looking into the trees.That brought Legolas, Galithil and Berior to attention and all four children
"We need to get out of here," Brethil said, pulling at Berior's arm. They looked at Legolas and Galithil
heard two high-pitched whimpers several paces behind him--Berior and Brethil. He also heard two bows creak as they were drawn and, seconds later, he saw two arrows fly by him. They struck the spider that had charged them. One hit the spider's body and flew off into the ferns as Legolas's arrow had done. The second was a more fortunate shot, hitting the spider above its sharp beak. The spider screeched and backed off hurriedly.
"Aim for their heads," Galithil shouted, loosing his own arrow and targeting the same spider that Brethil and Berior's arrows had struck. Galithil's arrow sank into the spider's eye, causing it to scream and curl into itself.
Legolas reached into his quiver to follow his cousin's example. As he did, the other spider spit a web towards him. It stuck to the hand holding his bow. Legolas could not suppress a frightened yelp. He jerked his arm backward and the yelp stretched into an incoherent shriek when he could not pull free of the web. Shaking his hand frantically, trying to dislodge the web and resist the spider's tug on it, Legolas drew his knife and brought the blade down across the thick, sticky rope. The knife cut through, but the dark strand clung to the blade. Legolas shook it loose and shoved the knife back into its sheath. Then he reached for an arrow and fit it against his bowstring. Releasing it, the arrow struck the spider that had tried to bind him in its web squarely in an eye. One of Galithil's arrows flew scanned the trees with wide eyes.
"If there are anymore, it is too dark to see them," Berior replied after a moment, panic causing his voice to rise in pitch.into the spider's other eye and it dropped to the ground, its legs splayed out around it.Legolas pulled out another arrow, and saw Galithil doing the same next to him, but before he could put it to use, Brethil and Berior's bows twanged and the second spider squealed and fell to the ground, two arrows in its eyes.Legolas's breath came in short pants as he stared at the unmoving spiders."Where are Anastor and Noruil?" Galithil asked. His voice shook as badly as his hands."Ran towards the Path," Berior gasped, breathless."Is that all of them? All of the spiders?" Brethil asked, looking into the trees.That brought Legolas, Galithil and Berior to attention and all four children
"We need to get out of here," Brethil said, pulling at Berior's arm. They looked at Legolas and Galithil
Jack Vettriano The Embrace Of The Spider
Jack Vettriano The Embrace Of The SpiderJack Vettriano The DuellistsJack Vettriano The DrifterJack Vettriano The Direct ApproachJack Vettriano The Defenders of Virtue
thick, sticky rope. The knife cut through, but the dark strand clung to the blade. Legolas shook it loose and shoved the knife back into its sheath. Then he reached for an arrow and fit it against his bowstring. Releasing it, the arrow struck the spider that had tried to bind him in its web squarely in an eye. One of Galithil's arrows flew into the spider's other eye and it dropped to the ground, its legs splayed out around it.
Legolas pulled out another arrow, and saw Galithil doing the same next to him, but before he could put it to use, Brethil and Berior's bows twanged and the second spider squealed and fell to the ground, two arrows in its eyes.
Legolas's breath came in short pants as he stared at the unmoving spiders.
"Where are Anastor and Noruil?" Galithil asked. His voice shook as badly as his hands.
"Ran towards the Path," Berior gasped, breathless.
"Is that all of at Legolas and Galithil, poised to run.
Legolas grimaced, but it was Galithil that voiced the reason why they could not simply flee.
"We have to find Maidhien," he said. "We cannot leave her out here."
Berior frowned, but shook his head. "We need to get help. If there are more spidethem? All of the spiders?" Brethil asked, looking into the trees.That brought Legolas, Galithil and Berior to attention and all four children scanned the trees with wide eyes."If there are anymore, it is too dark to see them," Berior replied after a moment, panic causing his voice to rise in pitch."We need to get out of here," Brethil said, pulling at Berior's arm. They looked rs..." he looked
thick, sticky rope. The knife cut through, but the dark strand clung to the blade. Legolas shook it loose and shoved the knife back into its sheath. Then he reached for an arrow and fit it against his bowstring. Releasing it, the arrow struck the spider that had tried to bind him in its web squarely in an eye. One of Galithil's arrows flew into the spider's other eye and it dropped to the ground, its legs splayed out around it.
Legolas pulled out another arrow, and saw Galithil doing the same next to him, but before he could put it to use, Brethil and Berior's bows twanged and the second spider squealed and fell to the ground, two arrows in its eyes.
Legolas's breath came in short pants as he stared at the unmoving spiders.
"Where are Anastor and Noruil?" Galithil asked. His voice shook as badly as his hands.
"Ran towards the Path," Berior gasped, breathless.
"Is that all of at Legolas and Galithil, poised to run.
Legolas grimaced, but it was Galithil that voiced the reason why they could not simply flee.
"We have to find Maidhien," he said. "We cannot leave her out here."
Berior frowned, but shook his head. "We need to get help. If there are more spidethem? All of the spiders?" Brethil asked, looking into the trees.That brought Legolas, Galithil and Berior to attention and all four children scanned the trees with wide eyes."If there are anymore, it is too dark to see them," Berior replied after a moment, panic causing his voice to rise in pitch."We need to get out of here," Brethil said, pulling at Berior's arm. They looked rs..." he looked
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Jack Vettriano exit Eden
Jack Vettriano exit EdenJack Vettriano Evening RacingJack Vettriano Elegy for the Dead AdmiralJack Vettriano Elegy for The Dead Admiral i
exactly is wrong with my cooking, Master Elladan?” Legolas smirked. “Last I checked my cooking was far better than yours!”
Elladan simply shook his head. “I never said anything considerably bad about your cooking, only that I wish for real food for once in almost two weeks.” Legolas rolled his eyes. “And also that your cooking is rather – err, well distasteful.”
“Then if you are so hungry,” Came a new voice, light and fair. “I invite you into our home, sons of Elrond, for something to eat.” Quickly their heads turned to the great stairs that led up into the tallest flat in the Galadhon. Eleniel quickly stood with her friends, bowing low with them.
“My Lady…” they murmured together.
“Come, I see you are weary.” Said Lady Galadriel, she looked to her grandsons and smiled kindly. “Arwen is here, and is awaiting you in the feasting hall.” It was enough for her to say to the two elven twins and young human to brighten their day, and now they were anxious as ever to see their sister. Aragorn followed behind the great lady, followed by his brothers, and the elven prince. When Eleniel did not immediately follow behind him, Legolas Nalla, im matha cuil cell o enni
Gladha, im matha lain an I erui aman mi idhrin turned to her confused.“El?” He called softly to her. “Are you going to join us?”“What?” She said, slightly startled by the question. She had lost herself in thought for a moment. “Oh, yes, of course I’m coming.” She smiled, walking elegantly up to him and placing a soft hand on his arm. “Of course I am mellon-nin.”Translations:Talt, im matha amarth gad enni
exactly is wrong with my cooking, Master Elladan?” Legolas smirked. “Last I checked my cooking was far better than yours!”
Elladan simply shook his head. “I never said anything considerably bad about your cooking, only that I wish for real food for once in almost two weeks.” Legolas rolled his eyes. “And also that your cooking is rather – err, well distasteful.”
“Then if you are so hungry,” Came a new voice, light and fair. “I invite you into our home, sons of Elrond, for something to eat.” Quickly their heads turned to the great stairs that led up into the tallest flat in the Galadhon. Eleniel quickly stood with her friends, bowing low with them.
“My Lady…” they murmured together.
“Come, I see you are weary.” Said Lady Galadriel, she looked to her grandsons and smiled kindly. “Arwen is here, and is awaiting you in the feasting hall.” It was enough for her to say to the two elven twins and young human to brighten their day, and now they were anxious as ever to see their sister. Aragorn followed behind the great lady, followed by his brothers, and the elven prince. When Eleniel did not immediately follow behind him, Legolas Nalla, im matha cuil cell o enni
Gladha, im matha lain an I erui aman mi idhrin turned to her confused.“El?” He called softly to her. “Are you going to join us?”“What?” She said, slightly startled by the question. She had lost herself in thought for a moment. “Oh, yes, of course I’m coming.” She smiled, walking elegantly up to him and placing a soft hand on his arm. “Of course I am mellon-nin.”Translations:Talt, im matha amarth gad enni
Jack Vettriano Union Jack
Jack Vettriano Union JackJack Vettriano Tuesday's childJack Vettriano Traffic Light MomentJack Vettriano the_Tourist_trap
Frodo murmured, his eyes closing against his will.
“You are in Rivendell,” the Elf said, stroking the small brow with cool fingers. “You are safe, Frodo. Your friends are well, and you soon will be. Sleep now... shhhh…”
Safe... Rivendell… A gentle song from the Elf’s lips settled around him in a soothing wave of peace and healing. Frodo sighed deeply and slid back into gentle sleep, wrapped in Light and Music.
xxxx
cpsings4him asked for, “post-Mount Doom blankets/coverings for Frodo and Sam.” This tiny scene expands on something briefly mentioned in chapter 2 of "In the Keeping of the King".
NO SMALL TASK
“Here you are, Aragorn,” Gimli said, looking pleased. His arms full of cloth, he and Legolas approached the Ringbearers’ cots, set in a grove of trees somewhat away from the rest of the camp. "Finely made, and cleaner than most."
“Thank you,” . They had both lost so much weight, any chill could be dangerous for them.
“Any trouble in finding these?” he asked curiously.
“Nothing worth mentioning,” Legolas said casually, exchanging Aragorn said gratefully. “Can you both assist me? We need to be very careful.” Three sets of battle-roughened hands worked gently, supporting first Frodo’s sleeping form, then Sam’s. Large, soft shirts were slid over the hobbits' heads, covering skin slowly healing from burns, bruises, and cuts. Gimli fought down the anger he felt every time he caught sight of the fading whip wheal on Frodo's side; he desperately wished to have had the chance to meet the orc responsible for this.Aragorn was relieved. Although he felt that, during each day, the clean air and warm sunshine would help the hobbits to heal, he preferred that they be covered at nightamused glance
Frodo murmured, his eyes closing against his will.
“You are in Rivendell,” the Elf said, stroking the small brow with cool fingers. “You are safe, Frodo. Your friends are well, and you soon will be. Sleep now... shhhh…”
Safe... Rivendell… A gentle song from the Elf’s lips settled around him in a soothing wave of peace and healing. Frodo sighed deeply and slid back into gentle sleep, wrapped in Light and Music.
xxxx
cpsings4him asked for, “post-Mount Doom blankets/coverings for Frodo and Sam.” This tiny scene expands on something briefly mentioned in chapter 2 of "In the Keeping of the King".
NO SMALL TASK
“Here you are, Aragorn,” Gimli said, looking pleased. His arms full of cloth, he and Legolas approached the Ringbearers’ cots, set in a grove of trees somewhat away from the rest of the camp. "Finely made, and cleaner than most."
“Thank you,” . They had both lost so much weight, any chill could be dangerous for them.
“Any trouble in finding these?” he asked curiously.
“Nothing worth mentioning,” Legolas said casually, exchanging Aragorn said gratefully. “Can you both assist me? We need to be very careful.” Three sets of battle-roughened hands worked gently, supporting first Frodo’s sleeping form, then Sam’s. Large, soft shirts were slid over the hobbits' heads, covering skin slowly healing from burns, bruises, and cuts. Gimli fought down the anger he felt every time he caught sight of the fading whip wheal on Frodo's side; he desperately wished to have had the chance to meet the orc responsible for this.Aragorn was relieved. Although he felt that, during each day, the clean air and warm sunshine would help the hobbits to heal, he preferred that they be covered at nightamused glance
Monday, April 20, 2009
Jack Vettriano Shades of Scarlett
Jack Vettriano Shades of ScarlettJack Vettriano Setting New StandardsJack Vettriano Seaside SharksJack Vettriano Scarlet Ribbons Lovely RibbonsJack Vettriano Sailor Boys
. Soon enough he too was seeing what Legolas was so quickly infuriated by. It took a half hour more before any of them dared to climb out of their trees. Though once on the ground and in the forest alone again, Legolas let out a furious yell.
“I should’ve killed him then!” He growled. Elrohir and Aragorn were taken back by the sudden change in Legolas’ mood. Legolas was the calmest of the three elves, never doing anything without a solid reason and complete approval before doing it.
“Kill who Legolas?” Aragorn said slowly, coming out his own shock.
“That thieving rat that stood right under my tree!” Legolas snarled. “How could I have been so ignorant? A perfect shot too!” Legolas began to pace in front of them furiously. “I am a blind fool! I should have recognized Randelf and Teneth’s voices immediately!”
“Who is Te-”
“Teneth Moonwood is King Thranduil’s favorite general and he also happens to be Eleniel’s father.” Elladan answered, frowning at the truth he spoke. “Just recently he’s had some dangerous dealings with bandits and other types of evil. It is why Eleniel refuses to go home now so often. There was a rumor that Debiis said he sent her to nd, why such a reaction though? I thought the sons of the Moonwood family were taking certain precautions to protect their sister?” Aragorn asked.
Elladan sighed, turning to Legolas who had leaned himself against a tree, arms crossed and contemplative. “Shall I tell him or will you?”
Legolas shook his head. “You. I will sound to biased.”Lorien for awhile because their father was starting up with his old habits again.” Aragorn winced for he knew exactly what Eleniel’s father’s ‘old habits’ meant.“So it is that Teneth we are talking about,” Elrohir sighed. “Suppose I should have known that. There is no other elf in this realm that would cause such a reaction from our annoyingly too calm prince here.” Legolas snorted, though he knew it was true. He was unusually calm with a lot of things, things even Lord Elrond would never be able to remain so about.Aragorn still looked confused. “I still don’t understa
. Soon enough he too was seeing what Legolas was so quickly infuriated by. It took a half hour more before any of them dared to climb out of their trees. Though once on the ground and in the forest alone again, Legolas let out a furious yell.
“I should’ve killed him then!” He growled. Elrohir and Aragorn were taken back by the sudden change in Legolas’ mood. Legolas was the calmest of the three elves, never doing anything without a solid reason and complete approval before doing it.
“Kill who Legolas?” Aragorn said slowly, coming out his own shock.
“That thieving rat that stood right under my tree!” Legolas snarled. “How could I have been so ignorant? A perfect shot too!” Legolas began to pace in front of them furiously. “I am a blind fool! I should have recognized Randelf and Teneth’s voices immediately!”
“Who is Te-”
“Teneth Moonwood is King Thranduil’s favorite general and he also happens to be Eleniel’s father.” Elladan answered, frowning at the truth he spoke. “Just recently he’s had some dangerous dealings with bandits and other types of evil. It is why Eleniel refuses to go home now so often. There was a rumor that Debiis said he sent her to nd, why such a reaction though? I thought the sons of the Moonwood family were taking certain precautions to protect their sister?” Aragorn asked.
Elladan sighed, turning to Legolas who had leaned himself against a tree, arms crossed and contemplative. “Shall I tell him or will you?”
Legolas shook his head. “You. I will sound to biased.”Lorien for awhile because their father was starting up with his old habits again.” Aragorn winced for he knew exactly what Eleniel’s father’s ‘old habits’ meant.“So it is that Teneth we are talking about,” Elrohir sighed. “Suppose I should have known that. There is no other elf in this realm that would cause such a reaction from our annoyingly too calm prince here.” Legolas snorted, though he knew it was true. He was unusually calm with a lot of things, things even Lord Elrond would never be able to remain so about.Aragorn still looked confused. “I still don’t understa
Jack Vettriano The Assessment
Jack Vettriano The AssessmentJack Vettriano The ArrangementJack Vettriano The ApprenticeJack Vettriano The Administration of JusticeJack Vettriano Table for One
friend with his own bow ready and aiming for its unseen target.
“Man car le tiri?” Aragorn whispered so quietly only the elf could hear him.
“Men, I think, I am not sure but they are not friends of ours and they seem to be looking for something.” Legolas answered, his eyes squinted and concentrated. “Scouts, I presume.”
“Come, we must move now.” Aragorn whispered and moved back over to their campsite and to the sides of his brothers. “Elladan!” Elladan made no reply to the sudden voice calling him. “Elladan!” Aragorn said urgently into his adoptive brother’s ear, giving him a hard shove to go along with it. He was being impossible, as usual. Elladan blinked rapidly at Aragorn for a few seconds before making any kind of movement.
“Estel? What is it? What time is it?” Elladan said groggily. He hated waking up early for anything.
“It’s time to go, we have unwanted visitors.” Aragorn replied and it was all he had to say before Elladan jumped up in the tree closest to his own.
“We’ve no idea.” Legolas replied softly. “We believe they are men, but of what business any man would have out here so far from any villages and great cities, I’ve no answquietly from his blankets with a small sharp dagger in his hand.“Who are our unwanted guests?” He said quietly, just as alert as the other two.“Yes, do indulge us little brother.” Elrohir said from behind Aragorn, stifling a yawn. As Aragorn and Elladan spoke, Legolas had gone about waking the other elven brother and then tending to the fire which now resembled nothing but damp ashes. Quickly packing up their little used supplies and losing their horses into the wild, the four warriors escaped to the nearest forest where they each found a tree to quickly climb up into as their ‘unwanted’ guests drew closer to their campsite.“Who are they?” Elrohir whispered to Legolas, who was hiding er too.” The reply seemed to satisfy Elrohir. Each
friend with his own bow ready and aiming for its unseen target.
“Man car le tiri?” Aragorn whispered so quietly only the elf could hear him.
“Men, I think, I am not sure but they are not friends of ours and they seem to be looking for something.” Legolas answered, his eyes squinted and concentrated. “Scouts, I presume.”
“Come, we must move now.” Aragorn whispered and moved back over to their campsite and to the sides of his brothers. “Elladan!” Elladan made no reply to the sudden voice calling him. “Elladan!” Aragorn said urgently into his adoptive brother’s ear, giving him a hard shove to go along with it. He was being impossible, as usual. Elladan blinked rapidly at Aragorn for a few seconds before making any kind of movement.
“Estel? What is it? What time is it?” Elladan said groggily. He hated waking up early for anything.
“It’s time to go, we have unwanted visitors.” Aragorn replied and it was all he had to say before Elladan jumped up in the tree closest to his own.
“We’ve no idea.” Legolas replied softly. “We believe they are men, but of what business any man would have out here so far from any villages and great cities, I’ve no answquietly from his blankets with a small sharp dagger in his hand.“Who are our unwanted guests?” He said quietly, just as alert as the other two.“Yes, do indulge us little brother.” Elrohir said from behind Aragorn, stifling a yawn. As Aragorn and Elladan spoke, Legolas had gone about waking the other elven brother and then tending to the fire which now resembled nothing but damp ashes. Quickly packing up their little used supplies and losing their horses into the wild, the four warriors escaped to the nearest forest where they each found a tree to quickly climb up into as their ‘unwanted’ guests drew closer to their campsite.“Who are they?” Elrohir whispered to Legolas, who was hiding er too.” The reply seemed to satisfy Elrohir. Each
Friday, April 17, 2009
Jack Vettriano Just the Way it is
Jack Vettriano Just the Way it isJack Vettriano Just Another Saturday NightJack Vettriano Just Another DayJack Vettriano Jealous HeartJack Vettriano Incident On The Promenade
know this?" she repeated. His head hit her shoulder, and he straightened."In the library at Orthanc, the White Council kept many ancient scrolls regarding ancient and forgotten Magics and Powers. Saruman, in his new, industrious way of thinking, has forgotten them. All of the peoples of the world have forgotten, save perhaps the Elves, who know and see all."Privately, Eowyn thought that Grima was far more wise that most people believed. But she could never tell him so. She stood up and walked a few paces from him, watching
know this?" she repeated. His head hit her shoulder, and he straightened."In the library at Orthanc, the White Council kept many ancient scrolls regarding ancient and forgotten Magics and Powers. Saruman, in his new, industrious way of thinking, has forgotten them. All of the peoples of the world have forgotten, save perhaps the Elves, who know and see all."Privately, Eowyn thought that Grima was far more wise that most people believed. But she could never tell him so. She stood up and walked a few paces from him, watching
Jack Vettriano Ae Fond Kiss
Jack Vettriano Ae Fond KissJack Vettriano A Voyage Of DiscoveryJack Vettriano a very married WomanJack Vettriano A Very Dangerous BeachJack Vettriano a uninvited guest
Mythri yawned; here she was in the middle of nowhere, looking for adventure. None was being particularly forthcoming. She knew there was, or was going to to be, some, somewhere; but as for there and then, nothing was coming her way. She knew this world would have some; she, after all, was a Watcher, and Watchers aren't sent places to do nothing.
Crack
She jumped. Who, or what, made that sound? She looked around, relying on her instincts as a Watcher. She could tell it wasn't friendly, but other than that it was a bit hard to pinpoint. Definitly not too much trouble, she decided. She looked in her sack; her father always packed a weapon in her sack. Oh-no, this might be harder than she thought, all her father sent with her, was a sword.
Now, I'mbig and heavy, and you really should get some practice first.
"You might as well come on out," she said, drawing the accursed blade. "I know you're in there."
Some sort of cackling laughter was the only answer she got. She realized, immediatly, that there were plenty more than one. She also realized that they were quite fluent with medieval weaponry; it just sort of went with the voice. Nobody laughed that way when sure you're all saying, 'Wait, a sword is a great weapon!' but that is because you haven't tried to swing one around. They're they aren't sure of themselves, and sajja would only send the best possible weaponry (of whatever world she went to) with her. That meant that they were better at this than she was, and they had her outnumbered... Drat. How did she get into these situations, again? Oh, right, her fathers the keeper.
"Come on," she said, forcing herself to look intimidating. "I wouldn't keep me waiting if I were you."
Out of the bushes, stepped the ugliest thing Mythri had ever seen. It had beady, little
Mythri yawned; here she was in the middle of nowhere, looking for adventure. None was being particularly forthcoming. She knew there was, or was going to to be, some, somewhere; but as for there and then, nothing was coming her way. She knew this world would have some; she, after all, was a Watcher, and Watchers aren't sent places to do nothing.
Crack
She jumped. Who, or what, made that sound? She looked around, relying on her instincts as a Watcher. She could tell it wasn't friendly, but other than that it was a bit hard to pinpoint. Definitly not too much trouble, she decided. She looked in her sack; her father always packed a weapon in her sack. Oh-no, this might be harder than she thought, all her father sent with her, was a sword.
Now, I'mbig and heavy, and you really should get some practice first.
"You might as well come on out," she said, drawing the accursed blade. "I know you're in there."
Some sort of cackling laughter was the only answer she got. She realized, immediatly, that there were plenty more than one. She also realized that they were quite fluent with medieval weaponry; it just sort of went with the voice. Nobody laughed that way when sure you're all saying, 'Wait, a sword is a great weapon!' but that is because you haven't tried to swing one around. They're they aren't sure of themselves, and sajja would only send the best possible weaponry (of whatever world she went to) with her. That meant that they were better at this than she was, and they had her outnumbered... Drat. How did she get into these situations, again? Oh, right, her fathers the keeper.
"Come on," she said, forcing herself to look intimidating. "I wouldn't keep me waiting if I were you."
Out of the bushes, stepped the ugliest thing Mythri had ever seen. It had beady, little
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Jack Vettriano And So to Bed
Jack Vettriano And So to BedJack Vettriano an Imperfect pastJack Vettriano An Imperfect Past IIJack Vettriano Amateur Philosophers
no help for it.
"Faramir!" I heard Elphir scream the name of my sister's husband. Was he calling for help, or had Faramir come to harm? My heart misgave me for the fate of both my brothers. Faramir was a kind-hearted man who had made Éowyn more content than I had ever known her. If someone had killed him, I would carve out the wretch's heart myself! And our horses, borne on the smaller freight-bearing boat that had accompanied this one - had they been seized, or worse?
I hurried up the ladder, opened the hatch, and peered out of it, to see the lay of the field, actually, deck, which was now streaked with rain and blood. A force of strangers, clad in varied garb and wielding cutlasses and knives, pressed Elphir's crew and Swan Knights hard. My own guards fought the invaders at the rails and seemed to be holding their own.
Where was Faramir? I could not see all the fighting. But I heard a cry, a curse in Sindarin. I caught but a glimpse of my wife's beloved brother in peril, fighting on one knee, the other leg bleeding, trying to fend off a hulking brute half again his girth, and six or so men between them and me. Elphir was flanked by two Swan Knights; I could see the glimmer of their helmets' white plumes in the moonlight. They were outnumbered. I had come none too soon.
"Forth, Eorlingas!" I roared, and leaped on the floor, deck, oh perdition-take-it! The cursed wood was slippery and I sprang out too hard. I landed on my arse. Actually, that was well done, because my rolling body tripped the Corsair who had been about to cut into me from behind. He was younger, but I was quicker, righting myself hastily and stomping all my weight onto his sword-hand. He screamed; I kicked him in the head, grabbed up his long knife, and left it in his belly.
There was rain, I noticed. Luckily it was weak, but it still obscured no help for it.
"Faramir!" I heard Elphir scream the name of my sister's husband. Was he calling for help, or had Faramir come to harm? My heart misgave me for the fate of both my brothers. Faramir was a kind-hearted man who had made Éowyn more content than I had ever known her. If someone had killed him, I would carve out the wretch's heart myself! And our horses, borne on the smaller freight-bearing boat that had accompanied this one - had they been seized, or worse?
I hurried up the ladder, opened the hatch, and peered out of it, to see the lay of the field, actually, deck, which was now streaked with rain and blood. A force of strangers, clad in varied garb and wielding cutlasses and knives, pressed Elphir's crew and Swan Knights hard. My own guards fought the invaders at the rails and seemed to be holding their own.
Where was Faramir? I could not see all the fighting. But I heard a cry, a curse in Sindarin. I caught but a glimpse of my wife's beloved brother in peril, fighting on one knee, the other leg bleeding, trying to fend off a hulking brute half again his girth, and six or so men between them and me. Elphir was flanked by two Swan Knights; I could see the glimmer of their helmets' white plumes in the moonlight. They were outnumbered. I had come none too soon.
"Forth, Eorlingas!" I roared, and leaped on the floor, deck, oh perdition-take-it! The cursed wood was slippery and I sprang out too hard. I landed on my arse. Actually, that was well done, because my rolling body tripped the Corsair who had been about to cut into me from behind. He was younger, but I was quicker, righting myself hastily and stomping all my weight onto his sword-hand. He screamed; I kicked him in the head, grabbed up his long knife, and left it in his belly.
There was rain, I noticed. Luckily it was weak, but it still obscured my sight more than I would have wished. If Firefoot were here, he would smell out the danger, and beat these two-legged vermin down with his great hoofs my sight more than I would have wished. If Firefoot were here, he would smell out the danger, and beat these two-legged vermin down with his great hoofs
no help for it.
"Faramir!" I heard Elphir scream the name of my sister's husband. Was he calling for help, or had Faramir come to harm? My heart misgave me for the fate of both my brothers. Faramir was a kind-hearted man who had made Éowyn more content than I had ever known her. If someone had killed him, I would carve out the wretch's heart myself! And our horses, borne on the smaller freight-bearing boat that had accompanied this one - had they been seized, or worse?
I hurried up the ladder, opened the hatch, and peered out of it, to see the lay of the field, actually, deck, which was now streaked with rain and blood. A force of strangers, clad in varied garb and wielding cutlasses and knives, pressed Elphir's crew and Swan Knights hard. My own guards fought the invaders at the rails and seemed to be holding their own.
Where was Faramir? I could not see all the fighting. But I heard a cry, a curse in Sindarin. I caught but a glimpse of my wife's beloved brother in peril, fighting on one knee, the other leg bleeding, trying to fend off a hulking brute half again his girth, and six or so men between them and me. Elphir was flanked by two Swan Knights; I could see the glimmer of their helmets' white plumes in the moonlight. They were outnumbered. I had come none too soon.
"Forth, Eorlingas!" I roared, and leaped on the floor, deck, oh perdition-take-it! The cursed wood was slippery and I sprang out too hard. I landed on my arse. Actually, that was well done, because my rolling body tripped the Corsair who had been about to cut into me from behind. He was younger, but I was quicker, righting myself hastily and stomping all my weight onto his sword-hand. He screamed; I kicked him in the head, grabbed up his long knife, and left it in his belly.
There was rain, I noticed. Luckily it was weak, but it still obscured no help for it.
"Faramir!" I heard Elphir scream the name of my sister's husband. Was he calling for help, or had Faramir come to harm? My heart misgave me for the fate of both my brothers. Faramir was a kind-hearted man who had made Éowyn more content than I had ever known her. If someone had killed him, I would carve out the wretch's heart myself! And our horses, borne on the smaller freight-bearing boat that had accompanied this one - had they been seized, or worse?
I hurried up the ladder, opened the hatch, and peered out of it, to see the lay of the field, actually, deck, which was now streaked with rain and blood. A force of strangers, clad in varied garb and wielding cutlasses and knives, pressed Elphir's crew and Swan Knights hard. My own guards fought the invaders at the rails and seemed to be holding their own.
Where was Faramir? I could not see all the fighting. But I heard a cry, a curse in Sindarin. I caught but a glimpse of my wife's beloved brother in peril, fighting on one knee, the other leg bleeding, trying to fend off a hulking brute half again his girth, and six or so men between them and me. Elphir was flanked by two Swan Knights; I could see the glimmer of their helmets' white plumes in the moonlight. They were outnumbered. I had come none too soon.
"Forth, Eorlingas!" I roared, and leaped on the floor, deck, oh perdition-take-it! The cursed wood was slippery and I sprang out too hard. I landed on my arse. Actually, that was well done, because my rolling body tripped the Corsair who had been about to cut into me from behind. He was younger, but I was quicker, righting myself hastily and stomping all my weight onto his sword-hand. He screamed; I kicked him in the head, grabbed up his long knife, and left it in his belly.
There was rain, I noticed. Luckily it was weak, but it still obscured my sight more than I would have wished. If Firefoot were here, he would smell out the danger, and beat these two-legged vermin down with his great hoofs my sight more than I would have wished. If Firefoot were here, he would smell out the danger, and beat these two-legged vermin down with his great hoofs
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Jack Vettriano Queen of the Waltzer
Jack Vettriano Queen of the WaltzerJack Vettriano Private DancerJack Vettriano Portrait in Silver and BlackJack Vettriano pincer Movement
the First Born, to be a subject foremost upon my mind.”
Again, a response he was not expecting, and he wondered at what she was trying to tell him. She took a deep breath, as if steeling her courage. “And then, there is Elrond Peredhel, descended from the greatest houses of both the Edain and the Eldar, and from what I have seen, truly the epitome of the finest qualities of all the children of Ilúvatar.”
He heard it in her voice as she spoke his father’s name, a slight tremour that betrayed more than mere admiration, and then, finally, he understood. “You love him.” The words were spoken neither in accusation nor judgement, but rather with wonder at the sudden revelation of a truth which had long remained unseen before his very eyes.
Gilraen looked at him directly, unwavering as she responded: “I am most weary of deception, and so I tell you quite freely that what you say is true. I have loved your father for many long years.”
Elrohir remained silent as he pondered this. A myriad of memories returned to him of Elrond and Gilraen together, of her strained silences, her subtle looks and gestures. At the time, all seemed too insignificant to note, but upon recollection have in years, and I find that my memories of him are distant and vague, clouded by the haze of time. I can no longer remember his smile, his smell, his touch...”
Her voice wavered a little, and she closed her eyes briefly before she c, suddenly, it all made sense. He wondered if his father knew of this, and if so, how had he dealt with it, if at all. He wondered that Gilraen, who had been, he thought, his good friend and confidant for years, had not told him of this long before. Most of all, he wondered at how he had not noticed sooner. The only unfortunate conclusion he could draw was that women, of all races, remained to him a mystery. “Why is it that you tell me this now, Gilraen?”“I feel that the time for secrets is over, and you, Elrohir, have always been a dear friend and a great support, both to my son, and to myself.”She paused for a minute and sighed. “How do I explain to you my feelings? Over these past few days, I have been dwelling on thoughts of my long-dead husband far more than Iontinued: “I loved my husband
the First Born, to be a subject foremost upon my mind.”
Again, a response he was not expecting, and he wondered at what she was trying to tell him. She took a deep breath, as if steeling her courage. “And then, there is Elrond Peredhel, descended from the greatest houses of both the Edain and the Eldar, and from what I have seen, truly the epitome of the finest qualities of all the children of Ilúvatar.”
He heard it in her voice as she spoke his father’s name, a slight tremour that betrayed more than mere admiration, and then, finally, he understood. “You love him.” The words were spoken neither in accusation nor judgement, but rather with wonder at the sudden revelation of a truth which had long remained unseen before his very eyes.
Gilraen looked at him directly, unwavering as she responded: “I am most weary of deception, and so I tell you quite freely that what you say is true. I have loved your father for many long years.”
Elrohir remained silent as he pondered this. A myriad of memories returned to him of Elrond and Gilraen together, of her strained silences, her subtle looks and gestures. At the time, all seemed too insignificant to note, but upon recollection have in years, and I find that my memories of him are distant and vague, clouded by the haze of time. I can no longer remember his smile, his smell, his touch...”
Her voice wavered a little, and she closed her eyes briefly before she c, suddenly, it all made sense. He wondered if his father knew of this, and if so, how had he dealt with it, if at all. He wondered that Gilraen, who had been, he thought, his good friend and confidant for years, had not told him of this long before. Most of all, he wondered at how he had not noticed sooner. The only unfortunate conclusion he could draw was that women, of all races, remained to him a mystery. “Why is it that you tell me this now, Gilraen?”“I feel that the time for secrets is over, and you, Elrohir, have always been a dear friend and a great support, both to my son, and to myself.”She paused for a minute and sighed. “How do I explain to you my feelings? Over these past few days, I have been dwelling on thoughts of my long-dead husband far more than Iontinued: “I loved my husband
Jack Vettriano The Last Great Romantic
Jack Vettriano The Last Great RomanticJack Vettriano The InnocentsJack Vettriano The Great PoetJack Vettriano The Gathering CloudsJack Vettriano The First Audition
pulled her from her thoughts. “In truth, I owe my life to him. He is gifted with the hands of a healer.”
“And the heart of a king?” Her voice quavered slightly as she spoke these words. Could he be the one for whom they had all waited so many generations of men?
Again she had the sense that he withheld something from her, some significant piece of this puzzle, as he looked down and responded quietly: “Of that, only time will reveal. He is very young still, and I fear many years of trial await him.”
He kept his head bowed, his gaze fixed firmly on her hand in his own as he sat for long moments in silence. Then, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, whether to comfort her or himself she did not know, before he spoke again: “No matter his fate, I foresee that the time of our father’s dwelling in Middle-earth draws soon to an end.” His next words were so soft that Arwen had to strain to hear him above the noisy babbling of the ever rushing water. “Tell me, have you thought much upon the choice which will soon be laid before us?”
Though his voice was barely more than a whisper, his words screamed in her ears, and she felt for a moment as though her breath had been stolen from her. The choice of the children of the peredhel was not something they spoke of lightly, for the pain their father bore still from the sundering beyond the end of the world of brother from brother was bitter called me Tinuviel, and said that I walk in the likenefor them to see. And yet, as unexpected as this question was, to Arwen it felt somehow most timely, for portents of her doom had seemed to dwell in the very air and the earth and the water all around her since her arrival home last eve.She paused for a moment, taking in a deep breath to compose herself before responding: “Little have I considered our choice throughout the many years of my life, for my path has always appeared to stretch out clear and straight ahead. Now, I find that I have been reminded of the choice of the peredhil twice within as many days, and suddenly it feels as though the road before me turns and my way is obscured from view.”“In that, you...” He paused mid sentence, his brow furrowing as he looked at her directly. “Twice? Who else has spoken to you of your choice?”“Not spoken of it as such, but when I first met him last eve, Estel ss of Luthien.”
His grasp on her hand tightened briefly and she could feel the sudden tremor that coursed through
pulled her from her thoughts. “In truth, I owe my life to him. He is gifted with the hands of a healer.”
“And the heart of a king?” Her voice quavered slightly as she spoke these words. Could he be the one for whom they had all waited so many generations of men?
Again she had the sense that he withheld something from her, some significant piece of this puzzle, as he looked down and responded quietly: “Of that, only time will reveal. He is very young still, and I fear many years of trial await him.”
He kept his head bowed, his gaze fixed firmly on her hand in his own as he sat for long moments in silence. Then, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, whether to comfort her or himself she did not know, before he spoke again: “No matter his fate, I foresee that the time of our father’s dwelling in Middle-earth draws soon to an end.” His next words were so soft that Arwen had to strain to hear him above the noisy babbling of the ever rushing water. “Tell me, have you thought much upon the choice which will soon be laid before us?”
Though his voice was barely more than a whisper, his words screamed in her ears, and she felt for a moment as though her breath had been stolen from her. The choice of the children of the peredhel was not something they spoke of lightly, for the pain their father bore still from the sundering beyond the end of the world of brother from brother was bitter called me Tinuviel, and said that I walk in the likenefor them to see. And yet, as unexpected as this question was, to Arwen it felt somehow most timely, for portents of her doom had seemed to dwell in the very air and the earth and the water all around her since her arrival home last eve.She paused for a moment, taking in a deep breath to compose herself before responding: “Little have I considered our choice throughout the many years of my life, for my path has always appeared to stretch out clear and straight ahead. Now, I find that I have been reminded of the choice of the peredhil twice within as many days, and suddenly it feels as though the road before me turns and my way is obscured from view.”“In that, you...” He paused mid sentence, his brow furrowing as he looked at her directly. “Twice? Who else has spoken to you of your choice?”“Not spoken of it as such, but when I first met him last eve, Estel ss of Luthien.”
His grasp on her hand tightened briefly and she could feel the sudden tremor that coursed through
Monday, April 13, 2009
Jack Vettriano One Moment in Time
Jack Vettriano One Moment in TimeJack Vettriano On the BorderJack Vettriano on ParadeJack Vettriano On Parade II
nestled close to the Gate - like their own hut and many others just like it - were nothing but smoldering piles of charred and tumbled timbers. The stone-faced buildings that remained standing had all lost part or all of their fronts, and many had gaping doorways into empty space and windows that looked inwards into the building behind them. The door in the stone front of the inn where Da worked stood alone, barely supported by the remains of stone walls on either side; everything - and everyone - that had been behind that door was gone, including Da.
Those whoBut if I don't take it, someone else will, and we all will starve, she silently answered Nan's voice. Pulling her Da's little knife from her own pocket, she bent swiftly and cut the pouch strings, then pulled both pouch and knife back into her own pocket in a single, smooth move. She glanced over at the boys and was grateful that they were still busy watching the soldiers.
Ivoreth shuddered, realizing that her life from now on was going to be very different. She trie were not involved in clearing away the dead were wandering around with looks of utter shock and despair. Far too many wore clothing that was stained and filthy, and no small number wore what looked like rough and bloodstained bandaging."What do we do now?" the tall boy wondered aloud to no one in particular.Good question, Ivoreth answered to herself. All she knew was that Daren and Evi and Raini were inside, waiting for her to return.And, somehow, she was going to have to take care of them. Both Da and Nan were gone now, there would be no one else.Her eye landed on the body of a woman who had fallen behind a tumble of blocks from one of the stone houses - and on the small pouch the dusty skirt not quite obscured. She pushed past the boys and tried not to look at the head of the baker, matching the attitude and shuffling of the others around her until she'd made her way over to the body.Stealing is wrong, little one, she heard her Nan's voice in her mind.d not to explore
nestled close to the Gate - like their own hut and many others just like it - were nothing but smoldering piles of charred and tumbled timbers. The stone-faced buildings that remained standing had all lost part or all of their fronts, and many had gaping doorways into empty space and windows that looked inwards into the building behind them. The door in the stone front of the inn where Da worked stood alone, barely supported by the remains of stone walls on either side; everything - and everyone - that had been behind that door was gone, including Da.
Those whoBut if I don't take it, someone else will, and we all will starve, she silently answered Nan's voice. Pulling her Da's little knife from her own pocket, she bent swiftly and cut the pouch strings, then pulled both pouch and knife back into her own pocket in a single, smooth move. She glanced over at the boys and was grateful that they were still busy watching the soldiers.
Ivoreth shuddered, realizing that her life from now on was going to be very different. She trie were not involved in clearing away the dead were wandering around with looks of utter shock and despair. Far too many wore clothing that was stained and filthy, and no small number wore what looked like rough and bloodstained bandaging."What do we do now?" the tall boy wondered aloud to no one in particular.Good question, Ivoreth answered to herself. All she knew was that Daren and Evi and Raini were inside, waiting for her to return.And, somehow, she was going to have to take care of them. Both Da and Nan were gone now, there would be no one else.Her eye landed on the body of a woman who had fallen behind a tumble of blocks from one of the stone houses - and on the small pouch the dusty skirt not quite obscured. She pushed past the boys and tried not to look at the head of the baker, matching the attitude and shuffling of the others around her until she'd made her way over to the body.Stealing is wrong, little one, she heard her Nan's voice in her mind.d not to explore
Jack Vettriano The Trap
Jack Vettriano The TrapJack Vettriano The Tourist TrapJack Vettriano The TemptressJack Vettriano The Star CafeJack Vettriano The Sparrow and the Hawk
of a man, the other a female. I believe them to be elves, simply by their clothing. Their clothes seem to be very expensive silk, worn only be elvish royalty. It must be Lord Elrond and presumably his daughter, Arwen. But the female is not of the same stature as Arwen, she is slightly shorter.
She turns slightly and I see a glimpse of her face. Her hair is different to most elves I have seen. A beautiful mauve colour with thick waves. Her eyes clash with her hair, a light purple/grey. Her eyes widen when she sees me and she quickly turns away, making sure her hood is secure over her face. She seems familiar, yet different. I feel as if I have meet her before, but I can not remember where or when. My memory fails me. How can I not remember her if she is royalty? Unless she has been sheltered from the view of the world.
dying. She will not long survive the evil that now spreads from Mordor. The light of the Evenstar is failing. As Sauron's power grows, her strength wanes. Arwen's life is now tied to the fate of the Ring. The Shadow is upon us, Aragorn. The end has come.'
'It will not be out end, but his.' Aragorn says courageously.
'You ride to war, but not to victory. Sauron's armies march on Minas Tirith~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Inside the tent~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~King Théoden of Rohan stands, talking with my uncle who is seated facing away from the entrance with his hood pulled over his face I sit on one of the King's seats to the left of the door, desperately hoping that Aragorn will accept what my uncle offers and trying to figure out whether Legolas recognised me or not. I dearly hope he did not.The curtain-like door opens and Aragorn enters the tent. Not noticing me, thankfully, he looks between Théoden and Elrond.'I take my leave' Théoden says nervously, before walking out of the tent.Elrond stands and faces Aragorn and takes of his hood. Aragorn politely bows his head in acknowledgement of him. 'My Lord Elrond' he says.'I come on behalf of one whom I love,' Elrond states, 'Arwen is
of a man, the other a female. I believe them to be elves, simply by their clothing. Their clothes seem to be very expensive silk, worn only be elvish royalty. It must be Lord Elrond and presumably his daughter, Arwen. But the female is not of the same stature as Arwen, she is slightly shorter.
She turns slightly and I see a glimpse of her face. Her hair is different to most elves I have seen. A beautiful mauve colour with thick waves. Her eyes clash with her hair, a light purple/grey. Her eyes widen when she sees me and she quickly turns away, making sure her hood is secure over her face. She seems familiar, yet different. I feel as if I have meet her before, but I can not remember where or when. My memory fails me. How can I not remember her if she is royalty? Unless she has been sheltered from the view of the world.
dying. She will not long survive the evil that now spreads from Mordor. The light of the Evenstar is failing. As Sauron's power grows, her strength wanes. Arwen's life is now tied to the fate of the Ring. The Shadow is upon us, Aragorn. The end has come.'
'It will not be out end, but his.' Aragorn says courageously.
'You ride to war, but not to victory. Sauron's armies march on Minas Tirith~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Inside the tent~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~King Théoden of Rohan stands, talking with my uncle who is seated facing away from the entrance with his hood pulled over his face I sit on one of the King's seats to the left of the door, desperately hoping that Aragorn will accept what my uncle offers and trying to figure out whether Legolas recognised me or not. I dearly hope he did not.The curtain-like door opens and Aragorn enters the tent. Not noticing me, thankfully, he looks between Théoden and Elrond.'I take my leave' Théoden says nervously, before walking out of the tent.Elrond stands and faces Aragorn and takes of his hood. Aragorn politely bows his head in acknowledgement of him. 'My Lord Elrond' he says.'I come on behalf of one whom I love,' Elrond states, 'Arwen is
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Jack Vettriano Lunchtime Lovers
Jack Vettriano Lunchtime LoversJack Vettriano long time GoneJack Vettriano Lines of SacrificeJack Vettriano legs Eleven
they saying?” Erestor stood and peered upward, trying to see the shadow of Thorondor on top of the distant Main gate.
“Nothing yet, but they feel that something will happen soon.”
“Where will you be tonight?” Erestor asked.
“I thought to stay in the house. Will you keep me company?” She sliced one last rosehip, wrapped it up with the others and came to stand near Erestor beneath the tree.
They stared at each other, identical expressions of thoughtful consideration on their faces. Erestor was taller than his mother, but not by much, and he could not abandon the feeling that Alda’s wisdom gave her height, that she stared down at him in the rare instances when something remained “Glorfindel’s harvest,” he reminded her.
“They’ll be back before the harvest. They will be back before the next full moon.” unspoken between them.“You’re anxious,” Erestor said.The stillness passed and the wind seemed to move the trees again. They no longer seemed like carvings from the same dark rock; Erestor became Erestor, and Alda became Alda.“I am,” she said and passed him the package of rosehips. “Someone should be with them that knows how to stop the flow of blood. In their haste to fight a battle, the lords forget their healers until they’re in need of one.”“They forgot to pack you? Is that what troubles you?” Erestor smiled.Alda frowned. “What use am I in the city?” She moved toward the interior of the house. Erestor followed. Alda’s great hound lifted herself from the shadows beneath a bench and lumbered after them.“I need you to be here,” Erestor said.Alda glanced back at him “I haven’t seen you in many days.”
they saying?” Erestor stood and peered upward, trying to see the shadow of Thorondor on top of the distant Main gate.
“Nothing yet, but they feel that something will happen soon.”
“Where will you be tonight?” Erestor asked.
“I thought to stay in the house. Will you keep me company?” She sliced one last rosehip, wrapped it up with the others and came to stand near Erestor beneath the tree.
They stared at each other, identical expressions of thoughtful consideration on their faces. Erestor was taller than his mother, but not by much, and he could not abandon the feeling that Alda’s wisdom gave her height, that she stared down at him in the rare instances when something remained “Glorfindel’s harvest,” he reminded her.
“They’ll be back before the harvest. They will be back before the next full moon.” unspoken between them.“You’re anxious,” Erestor said.The stillness passed and the wind seemed to move the trees again. They no longer seemed like carvings from the same dark rock; Erestor became Erestor, and Alda became Alda.“I am,” she said and passed him the package of rosehips. “Someone should be with them that knows how to stop the flow of blood. In their haste to fight a battle, the lords forget their healers until they’re in need of one.”“They forgot to pack you? Is that what troubles you?” Erestor smiled.Alda frowned. “What use am I in the city?” She moved toward the interior of the house. Erestor followed. Alda’s great hound lifted herself from the shadows beneath a bench and lumbered after them.“I need you to be here,” Erestor said.Alda glanced back at him “I haven’t seen you in many days.”
Jack Vettriano The Cigar Divan
Jack Vettriano The Cigar DivanJack Vettriano The British Are ComingJack Vettriano The Blue GownJack Vettriano The Birth of a DreamJack Vettriano The Billy Boys
old homeland. He saw the spirits that drove them. He thought he saw his father.
And then he saw blood. Erestor had never seen so much blood, the once clear stream beneath the tree ran red with it. The stream became a bloody shore and burning ships. A body hung from the tree and ravens sat on the massive, winding roots, beaks open to collect the blood that dripped from the body. Erestor knew, just as he knew the falseness of discordant notes, that the tree and the body and the water created a memory of the first murder.
One sip left, Erestor drank quickly to be done with the blood, but as the warmth filled him he wished that it would never end. The carnage was gone; the sunlight was back. It made him long for things he could not name or see, one thing, the most important thing. Whatever it was, it made the tree grow and it fed the wide stream at its roots. He tasted the root of Glorfindel’s wine like the first water before water was named. And he can’t be sung. What was it?”
Glorfindel placed his glass on the table and did the same with Erestor’s, all the while considering his answer. His blue eyes seemed touched by the same madness that weighted Erestor’s, “It is the only thing that matters.”
Erestor leaned against the sweating stone wall, “And the blood?”saw that the world was changed by words but that words made the world so.For hours it seemed that he stood there in the storehouse tasting a wine whose flavor would remain with him through every path he would travel. So when Erestor opened his eyes he was confused to find the shadows hardly changed across the cool, stone floor.Glorfindel smiled and touched their glasses together, the sound perfect, a small bell, “May this be the last sad farewell for all of us,” he said and swallowed the last sip.Erestor peered into his glass as if he would find some answer there. He felt awkward, oddly at a loss for words. His eyes felt heavy as if he’d lost himself in the libraries and forgot to find sleep, or that he must close his eyes again to comprehend the images fully.Finally, his tongue worked, “I could not write that, ever. It
“I have never seen it but your father mentioned a bloodied scene when he tasted the
old homeland. He saw the spirits that drove them. He thought he saw his father.
And then he saw blood. Erestor had never seen so much blood, the once clear stream beneath the tree ran red with it. The stream became a bloody shore and burning ships. A body hung from the tree and ravens sat on the massive, winding roots, beaks open to collect the blood that dripped from the body. Erestor knew, just as he knew the falseness of discordant notes, that the tree and the body and the water created a memory of the first murder.
One sip left, Erestor drank quickly to be done with the blood, but as the warmth filled him he wished that it would never end. The carnage was gone; the sunlight was back. It made him long for things he could not name or see, one thing, the most important thing. Whatever it was, it made the tree grow and it fed the wide stream at its roots. He tasted the root of Glorfindel’s wine like the first water before water was named. And he can’t be sung. What was it?”
Glorfindel placed his glass on the table and did the same with Erestor’s, all the while considering his answer. His blue eyes seemed touched by the same madness that weighted Erestor’s, “It is the only thing that matters.”
Erestor leaned against the sweating stone wall, “And the blood?”saw that the world was changed by words but that words made the world so.For hours it seemed that he stood there in the storehouse tasting a wine whose flavor would remain with him through every path he would travel. So when Erestor opened his eyes he was confused to find the shadows hardly changed across the cool, stone floor.Glorfindel smiled and touched their glasses together, the sound perfect, a small bell, “May this be the last sad farewell for all of us,” he said and swallowed the last sip.Erestor peered into his glass as if he would find some answer there. He felt awkward, oddly at a loss for words. His eyes felt heavy as if he’d lost himself in the libraries and forgot to find sleep, or that he must close his eyes again to comprehend the images fully.Finally, his tongue worked, “I could not write that, ever. It
“I have never seen it but your father mentioned a bloodied scene when he tasted the
Friday, April 10, 2009
Jack Vettriano Round Midnight
Jack Vettriano Round MidnightJack Vettriano Riviera retroJack Vettriano Ritual of CourtshipJack Vettriano Right XJack Vettriano Right Time, Right Place
silenced Legolas with a fierce slap in the face. Twisting Legolas’s arm behind his back, making him cry out, Cuthelion made Legolas go first as they descended from the tree.
Aldarion’s heart beat fast as he continued to cover the stranger. This was not right! Legolas did not deserve this fate! But a small malicious voice kept whispering about all the pain and injustice Aldarion had endured, placing all the blame at Legolas’s feet. So Aldarion kept silent, half horrified as he watched the grim proceedings.
Once at the base of the tree, Cuthelion shoved Legolas down at the stranger’s feet. Legolas tried to bolt away from the human’s touch, but CuthelionLegolas’s wide eyes looking back at him over his shoulder stopped Cuthelion’s hasty agreement. Suddenly, Cuthelion realized what he was about to do and the pit dropped out from his stomach. Legolas was just a boy. It wasn’t his fault he reminded Thranduil of Melian. But it had gone too far already. Legolas would never keep quiet, and Cuthelion had no wish for exile. Steeling himself against the shame that swept through him, Cuthelion turned away from Legolas’s pleading look.
“Done.” held him fast.A wave of revulsion and fear swept over Legolas as the man inspected him like he would a new horse, running his hand along Legolas’s well-muscled arms and shoulders.“Don’t touch me! I am...”Cuthelion’s deadly hiss in his ear cut him off. “Say one more word, and I’ll kill you instead. I don’t care what Aldarion thinks; it’s what you deserve.”Legolas went still, his face draining of color. Everything was happening so fast he could barely grasp its full implications.The strange human took a large leather pouch from his belt, jangling its contents for emphasis. “I’ll pay 40 ounces of pure mithril for him. That’s almost my entire earnings on this trip.”
silenced Legolas with a fierce slap in the face. Twisting Legolas’s arm behind his back, making him cry out, Cuthelion made Legolas go first as they descended from the tree.
Aldarion’s heart beat fast as he continued to cover the stranger. This was not right! Legolas did not deserve this fate! But a small malicious voice kept whispering about all the pain and injustice Aldarion had endured, placing all the blame at Legolas’s feet. So Aldarion kept silent, half horrified as he watched the grim proceedings.
Once at the base of the tree, Cuthelion shoved Legolas down at the stranger’s feet. Legolas tried to bolt away from the human’s touch, but CuthelionLegolas’s wide eyes looking back at him over his shoulder stopped Cuthelion’s hasty agreement. Suddenly, Cuthelion realized what he was about to do and the pit dropped out from his stomach. Legolas was just a boy. It wasn’t his fault he reminded Thranduil of Melian. But it had gone too far already. Legolas would never keep quiet, and Cuthelion had no wish for exile. Steeling himself against the shame that swept through him, Cuthelion turned away from Legolas’s pleading look.
“Done.” held him fast.A wave of revulsion and fear swept over Legolas as the man inspected him like he would a new horse, running his hand along Legolas’s well-muscled arms and shoulders.“Don’t touch me! I am...”Cuthelion’s deadly hiss in his ear cut him off. “Say one more word, and I’ll kill you instead. I don’t care what Aldarion thinks; it’s what you deserve.”Legolas went still, his face draining of color. Everything was happening so fast he could barely grasp its full implications.The strange human took a large leather pouch from his belt, jangling its contents for emphasis. “I’ll pay 40 ounces of pure mithril for him. That’s almost my entire earnings on this trip.”
Jack Vettriano The Sparrow and the Hawk
Jack Vettriano The Sparrow and the HawkJack Vettriano The Smooth OperatorJack Vettriano The Singing ButlerJack Vettriano The Shape Of Things To Come
looked like he was about to protest, but a few glares from the others convinced him to keep his mouth closed; they knew it probably wasn’t a smart idea to get on the bad side of people with weapons- especially when they had none. Elladan and Elrohir began herding the villagers along the road, making sure that none of them could get away.
After a little while of walking in silence, one of the villagers spoke up. “If ye don’t mind me askin’ why can’t you just let us go now? We won’ attack no one no more.”
Elrohir glared at xabout a group of orcs last night and we need to see if we can hunt looked like he was about to protest, but a few glares from the others convinced him to keep his mouth closed; they knew it probably wasn’t a smart idea to get on the bad side of people with weapons- especially when they had none. Elladan and Elrohir began herding the villagers along the road, making sure that none of them could get away.
After a little while of walking in silence, one of the villagers spoke up. “If ye don’t mind me askin’ why can’t you just let us go now? We won’ attack no one no more.”
Elrohir glared at him. “Do you even realize how close you came to being killed back there? You’re luck to even be alive! We’re taking you to Bree and telling them that you were bandits. No more arguments.”
The Sons of Elrond set a quick pace, one that was slightly fast for the bandits. They wanted to drop them off in the town as soon as possible. Although they didn’t show it in front of the men, they were ashamed of the way they had reacted to the situation.
The sun was just rising when the group reached Bree. Elladan banged on the gate.
“What d’ya want?” The gatekeeper asked.
“We found these four bandits attacking a young man on the road. The man disappeared after the bandits scattered, but we caught them,” he explained. “We thought we should bring them.”
The gatekeeper opened the gate. “Well, I’ll bring them to the jail,” he said. He knew the twins and trusted their judgment. “Are you two stayin’ for the trial?”
Elladan shook his head. “No, we need leave. We heard some of the townspeople talking about a group of orcs last night and we need to see if we can hunt them down.”them down.”
looked like he was about to protest, but a few glares from the others convinced him to keep his mouth closed; they knew it probably wasn’t a smart idea to get on the bad side of people with weapons- especially when they had none. Elladan and Elrohir began herding the villagers along the road, making sure that none of them could get away.
After a little while of walking in silence, one of the villagers spoke up. “If ye don’t mind me askin’ why can’t you just let us go now? We won’ attack no one no more.”
Elrohir glared at xabout a group of orcs last night and we need to see if we can hunt looked like he was about to protest, but a few glares from the others convinced him to keep his mouth closed; they knew it probably wasn’t a smart idea to get on the bad side of people with weapons- especially when they had none. Elladan and Elrohir began herding the villagers along the road, making sure that none of them could get away.
After a little while of walking in silence, one of the villagers spoke up. “If ye don’t mind me askin’ why can’t you just let us go now? We won’ attack no one no more.”
Elrohir glared at him. “Do you even realize how close you came to being killed back there? You’re luck to even be alive! We’re taking you to Bree and telling them that you were bandits. No more arguments.”
The Sons of Elrond set a quick pace, one that was slightly fast for the bandits. They wanted to drop them off in the town as soon as possible. Although they didn’t show it in front of the men, they were ashamed of the way they had reacted to the situation.
The sun was just rising when the group reached Bree. Elladan banged on the gate.
“What d’ya want?” The gatekeeper asked.
“We found these four bandits attacking a young man on the road. The man disappeared after the bandits scattered, but we caught them,” he explained. “We thought we should bring them.”
The gatekeeper opened the gate. “Well, I’ll bring them to the jail,” he said. He knew the twins and trusted their judgment. “Are you two stayin’ for the trial?”
Elladan shook his head. “No, we need leave. We heard some of the townspeople talking about a group of orcs last night and we need to see if we can hunt them down.”them down.”
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Jack Vettriano On the Border
Jack Vettriano On the BorderJack Vettriano on ParadeJack Vettriano On Parade IIJack Vettriano Olympia portrait of Zara PhilipsJack Vettriano Night PreparationsJack Vettriano night Negotiations
vscramble away from the humans’ touch, but the slavers quickly surrounded him. Amidst many kicks and curses at his struggles, another lead chain was attached to Legolas’s collar. The human who had first captured Legolas shoved him to the ground while the other two mounted their horses, each holding one of the lead chains. The man bent over Legolas, smiling at his wide eyes as the Elf realized what was about to happen.
“Since you seem to have so much energy, we’re going to let you run back to camp.”
The man vaulted up behind one of the henchmen as the horses sprang forward. The chains jerked Legolas along as he scrambled to keep his footing.
Legolas managed to keepBenoni glanced inquisitively at the circle of guards. The distress call earlier probably meant a new slave had been captured, although how that had happened in this deserted area he could not imagine. Still, that should not have caused the stir currently going on. Coarse jeers brought him back from his musings. Sweat trickled up until the horses were at a dead run. By the time the men reached their camp, Legolas was nearly unconscious, lying in a crumpled heap even after the horses had stopped and the riders dismounted.The slaver called Helgar sauntered over to the shaking, bleeding Elf, calling back to his leader, “Hey, Saleros, what you want me to do with him. You want to start his training now?”Saleros walked over to Legolas, knelt down, and grabbed the bloodied collar, forcing Legolas to look at him.“My dear Helgar, can’t you see this poor youth is a mighty Elf? Elves are special, superior creatures.” Raucous laughter broke out among the surrounding slavers. Saleros smile froze the blood in Legolas’s veins. “They must be handled delicately.”Legolas barely had time to register the blow that plunged him into darkness.***** down through his short dark brown beard mottled with gray
vscramble away from the humans’ touch, but the slavers quickly surrounded him. Amidst many kicks and curses at his struggles, another lead chain was attached to Legolas’s collar. The human who had first captured Legolas shoved him to the ground while the other two mounted their horses, each holding one of the lead chains. The man bent over Legolas, smiling at his wide eyes as the Elf realized what was about to happen.
“Since you seem to have so much energy, we’re going to let you run back to camp.”
The man vaulted up behind one of the henchmen as the horses sprang forward. The chains jerked Legolas along as he scrambled to keep his footing.
Legolas managed to keepBenoni glanced inquisitively at the circle of guards. The distress call earlier probably meant a new slave had been captured, although how that had happened in this deserted area he could not imagine. Still, that should not have caused the stir currently going on. Coarse jeers brought him back from his musings. Sweat trickled up until the horses were at a dead run. By the time the men reached their camp, Legolas was nearly unconscious, lying in a crumpled heap even after the horses had stopped and the riders dismounted.The slaver called Helgar sauntered over to the shaking, bleeding Elf, calling back to his leader, “Hey, Saleros, what you want me to do with him. You want to start his training now?”Saleros walked over to Legolas, knelt down, and grabbed the bloodied collar, forcing Legolas to look at him.“My dear Helgar, can’t you see this poor youth is a mighty Elf? Elves are special, superior creatures.” Raucous laughter broke out among the surrounding slavers. Saleros smile froze the blood in Legolas’s veins. “They must be handled delicately.”Legolas barely had time to register the blow that plunged him into darkness.***** down through his short dark brown beard mottled with gray
Jack Vettriano The Great Poet
Jack Vettriano The Great PoetJack Vettriano The Gathering CloudsJack Vettriano The First AuditionJack Vettriano The Embrace Of The SpiderJack Vettriano The Duellists
servant scowled at the retreating form of the prince but sighed, knowing it was no use. Legolas was his father’s pride and joy and could do no wrong. Thranduil was a wise ruler, except when it came to his son, for the king could not bear to see Legolas sad. Legolas had Melian’s spirit, much to Thranduil’s everlasting joy and sorrow. The loss of the Queen was still keenly felt, even after more than 70 years.
*****
Legolas wandered through the palace, admiring the grand preparations being made for his birthday feast. Thranduil never spared any expense for him, but this particular celebration was even more impressive than usual. Legolas would be turning 80. It was at this coming of age feast that Thranduil planned to legally declare Legolas the heir to the throne.
Eventually Legolas wandered outget them myself, but matters of state will not permit it. I would like you to go get them. I have written a letter requesting their presence in a way they cannot refuse.”
Legolas’ eyes lit up at the prospect of being sent on a mission. Feeling his chest swel into the palace gardens. Leaping up into a nearby tree, he reclined amongst its branches sighing in pleasure at its beautiful melody. A dark shadow seemed to mar its harmonies for a moment, but it quickly passed, too far off to do much. After a while, he began to sing quietly in tune with the trees.“Your mother was always singing just like that.”Legolas opened his eyes, smiling down at his father. “So you have told me, Ada,” he replied tenderly, noting the sad, far-off look in his father’s eyes. Legolas gracefully leapt to the ground and went to Thranduil. “What is it you need of me, Father?”Thranduil smiled at his youngest son’s perceptiveness. “So much like your mother,” he sighed. “I wish your brothers had more of her. The war party from the border has just arrived ... without Aldarion and Cuthelion. They know they are supposed to be here for your coming of age feast, yet they remained with the replacement guards. I would go l with pride at the trust his father placed in him, he replied, “Do not worry, Father. I will get them and be back in plenty of time for next week’s celebration.”
Thranduil smiled. “I know you will. I am sending two guards with you. They can
servant scowled at the retreating form of the prince but sighed, knowing it was no use. Legolas was his father’s pride and joy and could do no wrong. Thranduil was a wise ruler, except when it came to his son, for the king could not bear to see Legolas sad. Legolas had Melian’s spirit, much to Thranduil’s everlasting joy and sorrow. The loss of the Queen was still keenly felt, even after more than 70 years.
*****
Legolas wandered through the palace, admiring the grand preparations being made for his birthday feast. Thranduil never spared any expense for him, but this particular celebration was even more impressive than usual. Legolas would be turning 80. It was at this coming of age feast that Thranduil planned to legally declare Legolas the heir to the throne.
Eventually Legolas wandered outget them myself, but matters of state will not permit it. I would like you to go get them. I have written a letter requesting their presence in a way they cannot refuse.”
Legolas’ eyes lit up at the prospect of being sent on a mission. Feeling his chest swel into the palace gardens. Leaping up into a nearby tree, he reclined amongst its branches sighing in pleasure at its beautiful melody. A dark shadow seemed to mar its harmonies for a moment, but it quickly passed, too far off to do much. After a while, he began to sing quietly in tune with the trees.“Your mother was always singing just like that.”Legolas opened his eyes, smiling down at his father. “So you have told me, Ada,” he replied tenderly, noting the sad, far-off look in his father’s eyes. Legolas gracefully leapt to the ground and went to Thranduil. “What is it you need of me, Father?”Thranduil smiled at his youngest son’s perceptiveness. “So much like your mother,” he sighed. “I wish your brothers had more of her. The war party from the border has just arrived ... without Aldarion and Cuthelion. They know they are supposed to be here for your coming of age feast, yet they remained with the replacement guards. I would go l with pride at the trust his father placed in him, he replied, “Do not worry, Father. I will get them and be back in plenty of time for next week’s celebration.”
Thranduil smiled. “I know you will. I am sending two guards with you. They can
Monday, April 6, 2009
Jack Vettriano The Innocents
Jack Vettriano The InnocentsJack Vettriano The Great PoetJack Vettriano The Gathering CloudsJack Vettriano The First Audition
Underage?” said Strider. Even though Logan couldn’t see his expression, he could hear the other man’s amusement. “They’re all adults, but I know what you mean.”
“You do?” said Logan. “That’s got to be a first. So, why are they all midgets?” That earned him a glare from said midgets.
“Logan, they’re hobbits, and they have good hearing. You don’t want to insult them.”
“It’s not an insult to say that a midget is a midget,” said Logan, a little more quietly, looking wistfully at Aragorn’s tankard of beer, and it wasn’t just in between large mouthfuls. “We’ve been walking the whole day.”
“You can eat. I cannot afford to be distracted,” said Strider. Logan finished his meal, and then foam. “Hey, Strider, you think you can lend me some more money?”“I am going to have to,” said Strider, handing Logan a few odd coins. “Why did you order foam?”“I didn’t order foam,” said Logan, stressing the last word. “I asked for a phone. Hey, you don’t happen to have one, do you?”“A what?” said Strider. “No, I don’t have a ‘fone’, whatever that is.”“You know, ring ring, Alexander Bell?” Living in a school came with a price. Logan gave up. Everyone in this ‘Brie’ and ‘Eerie Ardour’ was mad, including Strider. Either that, or he had somehow been teleported into a very backward third world country where they did not know about telephones. “Oh, never mind. Don’t think I can explain it very well anyway.”He took Strider’s money and went and ordered himself a pint of beer and a meal of stew. The bowl of stew did smell wonderful, but the lumps of meat in it looked odd. Some of them looked like bits of offal. Logan shrugged. He was hungry, and he’d had haggis before. He attacked his meal with a spoon. “Aren’t you gonna eat?” he asked Strider
Underage?” said Strider. Even though Logan couldn’t see his expression, he could hear the other man’s amusement. “They’re all adults, but I know what you mean.”
“You do?” said Logan. “That’s got to be a first. So, why are they all midgets?” That earned him a glare from said midgets.
“Logan, they’re hobbits, and they have good hearing. You don’t want to insult them.”
“It’s not an insult to say that a midget is a midget,” said Logan, a little more quietly, looking wistfully at Aragorn’s tankard of beer, and it wasn’t just in between large mouthfuls. “We’ve been walking the whole day.”
“You can eat. I cannot afford to be distracted,” said Strider. Logan finished his meal, and then foam. “Hey, Strider, you think you can lend me some more money?”“I am going to have to,” said Strider, handing Logan a few odd coins. “Why did you order foam?”“I didn’t order foam,” said Logan, stressing the last word. “I asked for a phone. Hey, you don’t happen to have one, do you?”“A what?” said Strider. “No, I don’t have a ‘fone’, whatever that is.”“You know, ring ring, Alexander Bell?” Living in a school came with a price. Logan gave up. Everyone in this ‘Brie’ and ‘Eerie Ardour’ was mad, including Strider. Either that, or he had somehow been teleported into a very backward third world country where they did not know about telephones. “Oh, never mind. Don’t think I can explain it very well anyway.”He took Strider’s money and went and ordered himself a pint of beer and a meal of stew. The bowl of stew did smell wonderful, but the lumps of meat in it looked odd. Some of them looked like bits of offal. Logan shrugged. He was hungry, and he’d had haggis before. He attacked his meal with a spoon. “Aren’t you gonna eat?” he asked Strider
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Jack Vettriano Mad Dogs detail
Jack Vettriano Mad Dogs detailJack Vettriano Lunchtime LoversJack Vettriano long time GoneJack Vettriano Lines of SacrificeJack Vettriano legs Eleven
two dwarves – one was very aged and looked slightly familiar; the other was younger and sturdier, with a full, brown-red beard. There was a man next. He was tall and strong-looking, even sitting. He had dark hair and grey eyes. He had a proud air and Anariel noted the horn hanging at his belt. This was a man of Gondor.
Her gaze moved to the next man and was startled to see him meet her eyes. Her heart started thumping more rapidly and she felt her cool mask of composure slip firmly into place so that he should not see her blush. He had grey eyes, as the Gondorian did, but his were softer and wiser. He was dressed ruggedly as the Rangers of the North did, but he was more than that. Anariel could see it. He was the most noble-looking man, or elf, that she had ever seen.
She realized that she had been staring at him for a few moments. She inclined her head slightly at the man and turned to go. She did not want to eavesdrop on something that was not her concern.
She found a secluded spot, not too far form the porch where the Council had convened. She could hear the murmur of the voices, but could not make out the into the background. Her eyes – they looked just like thspeech unless someone spoke loudly. She sighed. She didn’t know why, but that man had unnerved her. She didn’t know who he was, but something about the way his glance had made her heart twist and writhe within her scared her. It was strange.0000000Aragorn’s mind wandered for a moment as Gloin began speaking of Moria. He had heard the story before – one of dread and sorrow. His eyes glanced around the circle and then, for some reason, were drawn to the shadows by the doorway. He was slightly surprised to see the woman Elrohir had brought standing there. Her eyes were moving around the circle, appearing to appraise each member of the Council. Aragorn thought she was pretty to a certain extent, but certainly no great beauty. Her hair was the most striking thing about her. It was like red-gold flame. She was a small thing, she would probably merely reach his shoulder were he to stand next to her. Her eyes moved to his. She showed a moment’s surprise at being caught, but then regained composure and looked cool and calm. Aragorn was struck momentarily breathless as he met her eyes and the speech of Gloin faded even further e laughing blue eyes that had been haunting his dreams. But they were not laughing now. They were guarded, shielded, the emotions kept at bay. A very slight tinge of pink graced her cheeks and she nodded her head at him once, then turned gracefully and left. He sat stunned. She was not beautiful. Compared with Arwen, she
two dwarves – one was very aged and looked slightly familiar; the other was younger and sturdier, with a full, brown-red beard. There was a man next. He was tall and strong-looking, even sitting. He had dark hair and grey eyes. He had a proud air and Anariel noted the horn hanging at his belt. This was a man of Gondor.
Her gaze moved to the next man and was startled to see him meet her eyes. Her heart started thumping more rapidly and she felt her cool mask of composure slip firmly into place so that he should not see her blush. He had grey eyes, as the Gondorian did, but his were softer and wiser. He was dressed ruggedly as the Rangers of the North did, but he was more than that. Anariel could see it. He was the most noble-looking man, or elf, that she had ever seen.
She realized that she had been staring at him for a few moments. She inclined her head slightly at the man and turned to go. She did not want to eavesdrop on something that was not her concern.
She found a secluded spot, not too far form the porch where the Council had convened. She could hear the murmur of the voices, but could not make out the into the background. Her eyes – they looked just like thspeech unless someone spoke loudly. She sighed. She didn’t know why, but that man had unnerved her. She didn’t know who he was, but something about the way his glance had made her heart twist and writhe within her scared her. It was strange.0000000Aragorn’s mind wandered for a moment as Gloin began speaking of Moria. He had heard the story before – one of dread and sorrow. His eyes glanced around the circle and then, for some reason, were drawn to the shadows by the doorway. He was slightly surprised to see the woman Elrohir had brought standing there. Her eyes were moving around the circle, appearing to appraise each member of the Council. Aragorn thought she was pretty to a certain extent, but certainly no great beauty. Her hair was the most striking thing about her. It was like red-gold flame. She was a small thing, she would probably merely reach his shoulder were he to stand next to her. Her eyes moved to his. She showed a moment’s surprise at being caught, but then regained composure and looked cool and calm. Aragorn was struck momentarily breathless as he met her eyes and the speech of Gloin faded even further e laughing blue eyes that had been haunting his dreams. But they were not laughing now. They were guarded, shielded, the emotions kept at bay. A very slight tinge of pink graced her cheeks and she nodded her head at him once, then turned gracefully and left. He sat stunned. She was not beautiful. Compared with Arwen, she
Jack Vettriano The Unorthodox Approach
Jack Vettriano The Unorthodox ApproachJack Vettriano The Twilight ZoneJack Vettriano The TrapJack Vettriano The Tourist Trap
reason, Elrohir, one good reason why I shouldn’t bury this arrow in your sorry hide?” A golden shimmer began to surround her and her eyes glowed more furiously. The elves shifted nervously. Elrohir, however, was quite calm, his eyes never leaving hers.
“I can give several reasons, Anariel, why you shouldn’t and why you won’t. Firstly, your innate sense of justice will tell you that I have done nothing deserving of death, no matter how I have mistreated you. Secondly, you would not slay your kinsmen, not while you could help it.”
Through this speech Anariel’s light diminished, until she looked like a forlorn little human child. A single tear slid down her cheek, like a solitary diamond and her bow was lowered.
“You have no idea, Elrohir,” she whispered sadly. “You have no idea how your words and your father’s words have haunted me. At night, when I and your gifts.”
Her shoulders slumped dejectedly. They just wanted her for what she could do? Fine. If that’s what they wanted, that’s what they would get.
“I will come Elrohir,” she said softly. He started to smile. “But it is hard to forget. It is hard to forgive. I need time.” She stepped away from him and lifted her head proudly. “I will be ready to leave for Imladris atam alone in the darkness but for the howling of the hunting wolves, they echo in my mind. ‘We would have loved you’ ‘We would have been your family’. You are my family. You should have loved me, despite my choice.” She started to shimmer slightly once more. “No, Elrohir. It is too much to ask. You want to come here, after fifteen years, which I know isn’t long to you, and you ask me to act as if nothing is wrong. As if I have not been alone for fifteen years with no one to speak to. I am sorry.” She turned and began to walk away.“Anariel! Wait!” Elrohir spurred his horse and cut her off. She lifted her blue eyes to his gray ones. He read there all the hurt and sorrow that had hidden in her heart, unhealed, all those years. He slid off his mount and stood before her, her small stature causing him to have to bend over to look her in the eye.“Anariel. I have come to apologize. No don’t turn away,” he took her small hands in his larger ones. “We were wrong. All of us. Father admitted it to all of us. He wanted me to get you. We need you... dawn tomorrow. Do not follow me and
reason, Elrohir, one good reason why I shouldn’t bury this arrow in your sorry hide?” A golden shimmer began to surround her and her eyes glowed more furiously. The elves shifted nervously. Elrohir, however, was quite calm, his eyes never leaving hers.
“I can give several reasons, Anariel, why you shouldn’t and why you won’t. Firstly, your innate sense of justice will tell you that I have done nothing deserving of death, no matter how I have mistreated you. Secondly, you would not slay your kinsmen, not while you could help it.”
Through this speech Anariel’s light diminished, until she looked like a forlorn little human child. A single tear slid down her cheek, like a solitary diamond and her bow was lowered.
“You have no idea, Elrohir,” she whispered sadly. “You have no idea how your words and your father’s words have haunted me. At night, when I and your gifts.”
Her shoulders slumped dejectedly. They just wanted her for what she could do? Fine. If that’s what they wanted, that’s what they would get.
“I will come Elrohir,” she said softly. He started to smile. “But it is hard to forget. It is hard to forgive. I need time.” She stepped away from him and lifted her head proudly. “I will be ready to leave for Imladris atam alone in the darkness but for the howling of the hunting wolves, they echo in my mind. ‘We would have loved you’ ‘We would have been your family’. You are my family. You should have loved me, despite my choice.” She started to shimmer slightly once more. “No, Elrohir. It is too much to ask. You want to come here, after fifteen years, which I know isn’t long to you, and you ask me to act as if nothing is wrong. As if I have not been alone for fifteen years with no one to speak to. I am sorry.” She turned and began to walk away.“Anariel! Wait!” Elrohir spurred his horse and cut her off. She lifted her blue eyes to his gray ones. He read there all the hurt and sorrow that had hidden in her heart, unhealed, all those years. He slid off his mount and stood before her, her small stature causing him to have to bend over to look her in the eye.“Anariel. I have come to apologize. No don’t turn away,” he took her small hands in his larger ones. “We were wrong. All of us. Father admitted it to all of us. He wanted me to get you. We need you... dawn tomorrow. Do not follow me and
Friday, April 3, 2009
Jack Vettriano Soho Nights
Jack Vettriano Soho NightsJack Vettriano SilhouetteJack Vettriano Shades of ScarlettJack Vettriano Setting New Standards
that they would end up smelling of horse, Kit had to resist the urge to wrinkle her nose. They would at least dry off, and then she could change.
Leax handed Kit and Algar a round bread each. Kit was hungry enough that she gobbled it down. It was a little tough, but sated some of her hunger for now. Licking off her fingers, she looked at the others, and then decided that she needed to wash off before things started. She walked over to the stream to wash her face and hands in the cold water. It had settled overnight, and now the shallow water was sparkling in the early light. The rivers and streams at home had never looked so pure, but then again the Mudway flowed through the town, so it could hardly be expected to stay clean when nothing else managed it. It was good to drink the fresh water, and Kit drunk a little too much, the cold water weighing down in her belly.
Around the camp, final preparations were being made. Three packs lay on the ground still, and Kit quickly went to pick one up. She wouldn’t want to seem ungrateful, even if she wasn’t sure how far they had to walk and whether she would be fit enough for the journey. Mae and the other woman were helping an old man into the saddle, and Mae smiled at Kit when she saw what she had done, nodding gratefully. lead, and Kit realised that the rest of the villagers were following him. When she looked back at the village she could see why. Most of the adult men were staying. The families that remained there, watching most of their fellows leave, seemed to be just that: families. Whereas those who left were old, or mothers and children shoved together in haphazard groups, those tThe third pack had obviously been hers, as the woman helping her had her baby strapped carefully to her back. The pair passed the young girl up to the old man, who looked almost as uncomfortable about the situation as the little girl did. The clash made Kit smile a little, although when the thought came to her that the pair were riding with Algar and his family because they had no one else to be with, the smile disappeared entirely. A young woman with her own pack was crossing over to them, and from the way that she greeted Algar and Mae, Kit guessed that she would be walking with them too.Kit wished that she had the energy to try and ask Algar where they were going, but she knew that it would just end up being a fight to get through the language barrier. Even when Leax came over to talk to her, she had to give up with a little shrug. He looked a little disappointed that she wasn’t trying like she was the day before, but at least he seemed to understand that she was tired. Mae took the reigns of the packhorse, and Algar came over to pick up his pack. The young man looked around the remains of the village with a sigh, and Kit realised that he didn’t expect to come home.And then they started on their journey. Algar and those that walked with him were in the hat stayed in the village were clearly in family groups. Kit was the closest to a leader
that they would end up smelling of horse, Kit had to resist the urge to wrinkle her nose. They would at least dry off, and then she could change.
Leax handed Kit and Algar a round bread each. Kit was hungry enough that she gobbled it down. It was a little tough, but sated some of her hunger for now. Licking off her fingers, she looked at the others, and then decided that she needed to wash off before things started. She walked over to the stream to wash her face and hands in the cold water. It had settled overnight, and now the shallow water was sparkling in the early light. The rivers and streams at home had never looked so pure, but then again the Mudway flowed through the town, so it could hardly be expected to stay clean when nothing else managed it. It was good to drink the fresh water, and Kit drunk a little too much, the cold water weighing down in her belly.
Around the camp, final preparations were being made. Three packs lay on the ground still, and Kit quickly went to pick one up. She wouldn’t want to seem ungrateful, even if she wasn’t sure how far they had to walk and whether she would be fit enough for the journey. Mae and the other woman were helping an old man into the saddle, and Mae smiled at Kit when she saw what she had done, nodding gratefully. lead, and Kit realised that the rest of the villagers were following him. When she looked back at the village she could see why. Most of the adult men were staying. The families that remained there, watching most of their fellows leave, seemed to be just that: families. Whereas those who left were old, or mothers and children shoved together in haphazard groups, those tThe third pack had obviously been hers, as the woman helping her had her baby strapped carefully to her back. The pair passed the young girl up to the old man, who looked almost as uncomfortable about the situation as the little girl did. The clash made Kit smile a little, although when the thought came to her that the pair were riding with Algar and his family because they had no one else to be with, the smile disappeared entirely. A young woman with her own pack was crossing over to them, and from the way that she greeted Algar and Mae, Kit guessed that she would be walking with them too.Kit wished that she had the energy to try and ask Algar where they were going, but she knew that it would just end up being a fight to get through the language barrier. Even when Leax came over to talk to her, she had to give up with a little shrug. He looked a little disappointed that she wasn’t trying like she was the day before, but at least he seemed to understand that she was tired. Mae took the reigns of the packhorse, and Algar came over to pick up his pack. The young man looked around the remains of the village with a sigh, and Kit realised that he didn’t expect to come home.And then they started on their journey. Algar and those that walked with him were in the hat stayed in the village were clearly in family groups. Kit was the closest to a leader
Jack Vettriano The Missing Man
Jack Vettriano The Missing ManJack Vettriano The Missing Man IJack Vettriano The Man in the MirrorJack Vettriano The Main Attraction
suddenly took over, quelling her fear and the pain for the moment, and moving her automatically. Yanking the sword back, she screamed and threw herself into the battle with a bloodlust that probably wouldn’t have surprised anyone who had seen her as a child.
Kit wasn’t really all that good with the sword: drama had taught her to hit her opponent’s blade rather than the other person. But she found it was fairly easy to hit the ugly beasts in the back while they were distracted with the villagers, and that way she was kept mostly out of the way of their wicked looking blades. Plus, apparently short fat girls in jeans and DMs were invisible. It was probably the whole “you see what you want to see, rather than what’s there” thing. That, or people were just too distracted to pay attention, even though she seemed to be the only girl fighting. But really, whatever. While they weren’t paying attention to her, they weren’t trying to kill her, and that was probably saving her. And she really would like to stay in one piece – that way when she got home she could kill the others.
There was another young man on the ground at her feet. She almost tripped over him, and it woke her from her trance like state. “Oh. Shit.” She swore vaguely, her retch, and she puked again, emptying what little else she had in her stomach onto the ruined ground, and then collapsing beside it. Her vision darkened a bit as the man that she had saved stood over her. That was sweet of him.
Kit slipped in and out of consciousness, but the battle had been half fintrying to catch her balance, half stepping over him. There was one of the creatures trying to get at him, and it glared at Kit as she got in between it and its prey. Realising that this wasn’t the best of situations, she tried to reason the best way out, stabbing randomly at the creature from her unsafe position over the man to keep it from attacking her first. It was enough to force the creature to step back, Kit quickly stepping over the man so that she could balance herself better. Feeling, rather than hearing, him rise, she was relieved to feel his back brush against hers. It allowed her to focus on this beast in front of her rather than having to worry about what was sneaking up behind her. Blocking a sword strike away from her face, she swore again, the pain from the strength of the strike flaring up her already aching arms.“Ah, I think I might be a bit tired.” She told the surprised creature calmly, pushing herself up off the ground in a pounce that allowed her to stab the sword into its neck. Black blood sprayed her face as she fell back, and she choked on it. Her strength finally left her then, and she fell down to her knees panting. The stench of the blood on her face made ished when she and
suddenly took over, quelling her fear and the pain for the moment, and moving her automatically. Yanking the sword back, she screamed and threw herself into the battle with a bloodlust that probably wouldn’t have surprised anyone who had seen her as a child.
Kit wasn’t really all that good with the sword: drama had taught her to hit her opponent’s blade rather than the other person. But she found it was fairly easy to hit the ugly beasts in the back while they were distracted with the villagers, and that way she was kept mostly out of the way of their wicked looking blades. Plus, apparently short fat girls in jeans and DMs were invisible. It was probably the whole “you see what you want to see, rather than what’s there” thing. That, or people were just too distracted to pay attention, even though she seemed to be the only girl fighting. But really, whatever. While they weren’t paying attention to her, they weren’t trying to kill her, and that was probably saving her. And she really would like to stay in one piece – that way when she got home she could kill the others.
There was another young man on the ground at her feet. She almost tripped over him, and it woke her from her trance like state. “Oh. Shit.” She swore vaguely, her retch, and she puked again, emptying what little else she had in her stomach onto the ruined ground, and then collapsing beside it. Her vision darkened a bit as the man that she had saved stood over her. That was sweet of him.
Kit slipped in and out of consciousness, but the battle had been half fintrying to catch her balance, half stepping over him. There was one of the creatures trying to get at him, and it glared at Kit as she got in between it and its prey. Realising that this wasn’t the best of situations, she tried to reason the best way out, stabbing randomly at the creature from her unsafe position over the man to keep it from attacking her first. It was enough to force the creature to step back, Kit quickly stepping over the man so that she could balance herself better. Feeling, rather than hearing, him rise, she was relieved to feel his back brush against hers. It allowed her to focus on this beast in front of her rather than having to worry about what was sneaking up behind her. Blocking a sword strike away from her face, she swore again, the pain from the strength of the strike flaring up her already aching arms.“Ah, I think I might be a bit tired.” She told the surprised creature calmly, pushing herself up off the ground in a pounce that allowed her to stab the sword into its neck. Black blood sprayed her face as she fell back, and she choked on it. Her strength finally left her then, and she fell down to her knees panting. The stench of the blood on her face made ished when she and
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Jack Vettriano Model in Westwood
Jack Vettriano Model in WestwoodJack Vettriano Model in BlackJack Vettriano Model at MirrorJack Vettriano Mirror Mirror
Here you go!” Merry declared, arriving as if able to read the Man’s mind, with mug of ale in hand.
“You made it!” Pippin said. “Boromir wins!”
Boromir shook his head vigorously at them but Garad only laughed. “I might have guessed! So that’s what you were up to!”
“Well,” Pippin amended, “you did the last turn down the floor all by yourselves.”
“And it lookedtheir keep! Putting bets on your wedding waltz, indeed!”
Liel was gladdened by the sound of Elena’s laughter.
Garad and Elena
The linen of the bandage was roughly woven, yet soft, warm and smooth where Ele fantastic!” Merry lied.Liel finished filling Elena in on what had been going on and she shook her head muttering “Men!”“They owe you five silvers each,” Arwen said primly, dragging Aragorn away before he could intrude with a Healer’s examination.When both women looked back at Garad they found him sound asleep in his chair, somehow still managing not to spill the beer.“Time you took your husband to bed,” Liel said softly.Elena murmured, lacing her fingers through his dark hair. “I nearly lost him this time.”“The battles are over. He is safe,” Liel told her firmly. “Time you climbed into bed with him and held him until you convince yourself of that.”Elena nodded then looked up at Liel with a rueful smile. “He’s such a great lump. I can’t carry him and I don’t’ want to wake him ---“I shall call our bearers!” Liel replied with an evil grin. “Time they earned na’s fingers gently
Here you go!” Merry declared, arriving as if able to read the Man’s mind, with mug of ale in hand.
“You made it!” Pippin said. “Boromir wins!”
Boromir shook his head vigorously at them but Garad only laughed. “I might have guessed! So that’s what you were up to!”
“Well,” Pippin amended, “you did the last turn down the floor all by yourselves.”
“And it lookedtheir keep! Putting bets on your wedding waltz, indeed!”
Liel was gladdened by the sound of Elena’s laughter.
Garad and Elena
The linen of the bandage was roughly woven, yet soft, warm and smooth where Ele fantastic!” Merry lied.Liel finished filling Elena in on what had been going on and she shook her head muttering “Men!”“They owe you five silvers each,” Arwen said primly, dragging Aragorn away before he could intrude with a Healer’s examination.When both women looked back at Garad they found him sound asleep in his chair, somehow still managing not to spill the beer.“Time you took your husband to bed,” Liel said softly.Elena murmured, lacing her fingers through his dark hair. “I nearly lost him this time.”“The battles are over. He is safe,” Liel told her firmly. “Time you climbed into bed with him and held him until you convince yourself of that.”Elena nodded then looked up at Liel with a rueful smile. “He’s such a great lump. I can’t carry him and I don’t’ want to wake him ---“I shall call our bearers!” Liel replied with an evil grin. “Time they earned na’s fingers gently
Jack Vettriano The Tourist Trap
Jack Vettriano The Tourist TrapJack Vettriano The TemptressJack Vettriano The Star Cafe
?” Eowyn whispered to Faramir, watching with interest.
“A Gondorian custom, a recent one, started by Boromir,” Faramir whispered in return. He leaned in to place his lips so close to Eowyn’s ear that Liel did not hear the rest of what was said. But she did see Eowyn’s round eyed and pleased reaction. Her hand slipped back into Faramir’s and together they turned and looked indulgently at Garad and Elena. Liel nodded approvingly. They were a good match.
Theodred was still , deadly fan, their feathered shafts balanced above its center, the meticulous rendering of the arrowheads in an arc over all its length.
“I made this for you. Will you wear it?”
Liel shook her head, amused by the less than romantic approach even as she felt tears of joy sting her eyes. She knew something that Garad did not yet know, and she wasn’t telling. That was for Elena. They would make wpresent, but Eomer had gotten caught on the wrong side of the logjam as had Aragorn, Arwen, Gimli, Legolas and Gandalf who had gone on ahead. They were now coming back up the stairs, craning to see why no one else was following.Meaning Elena and Garad had center stage, not just with the gathered royalty, but also the crowd in the square. Garad remained blissfully oblivious. As too, Liel noted with pleasure, were Boromir and Faramir.“Umm,” Garad said, his gaze locked with Elena’s as he reached awkwardly to her with his good arm, the tiny shield now revealed and shining on his upturned palm.It was beautifully wrought, the silver dished out to imitate the upraised Dome of Osgiliath, the symbol of Elena's birthright as a noble of the Giliath. The flowering branches of the White Tree that united all the Children of Numenor wreathed its edge, growing from a stylized crown of branches framing one perfect blossom in their curving embrace. The solid, powerful shape of a blacksmith’s anvil rested on their foundation, and above the anvil seven arrows crossed their shafts in an elegantonderful parents.
?” Eowyn whispered to Faramir, watching with interest.
“A Gondorian custom, a recent one, started by Boromir,” Faramir whispered in return. He leaned in to place his lips so close to Eowyn’s ear that Liel did not hear the rest of what was said. But she did see Eowyn’s round eyed and pleased reaction. Her hand slipped back into Faramir’s and together they turned and looked indulgently at Garad and Elena. Liel nodded approvingly. They were a good match.
Theodred was still , deadly fan, their feathered shafts balanced above its center, the meticulous rendering of the arrowheads in an arc over all its length.
“I made this for you. Will you wear it?”
Liel shook her head, amused by the less than romantic approach even as she felt tears of joy sting her eyes. She knew something that Garad did not yet know, and she wasn’t telling. That was for Elena. They would make wpresent, but Eomer had gotten caught on the wrong side of the logjam as had Aragorn, Arwen, Gimli, Legolas and Gandalf who had gone on ahead. They were now coming back up the stairs, craning to see why no one else was following.Meaning Elena and Garad had center stage, not just with the gathered royalty, but also the crowd in the square. Garad remained blissfully oblivious. As too, Liel noted with pleasure, were Boromir and Faramir.“Umm,” Garad said, his gaze locked with Elena’s as he reached awkwardly to her with his good arm, the tiny shield now revealed and shining on his upturned palm.It was beautifully wrought, the silver dished out to imitate the upraised Dome of Osgiliath, the symbol of Elena's birthright as a noble of the Giliath. The flowering branches of the White Tree that united all the Children of Numenor wreathed its edge, growing from a stylized crown of branches framing one perfect blossom in their curving embrace. The solid, powerful shape of a blacksmith’s anvil rested on their foundation, and above the anvil seven arrows crossed their shafts in an elegantonderful parents.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Jack Vettriano Sweet Is The Night
Jack Vettriano Sweet Is The NightJack Vettriano Sweet Bird of YouthJack Vettriano Sweet Bird of Youth study
Suits us? Pah!” The first orc spits now – it seems to be almost a nervous tic with these folk, Gamba thinks with grim amusement – and glances at the second, larger one. “Suits us, he says, Shanik! Turns up with nowt we ain’t got ‘ere already, no mûmakil, no nuffin’, and expects us ta let ‘em all in! What’s it to us, some little boys out’a the big desert? Take ‘im, there.” He points to Ashk, standing very still and firm and glaring up at them. “I’d betcha voice ain’t even broke yet. Betcha still piss yerself without yer mam ter ‘elp! ‘Ow old are yer?”
“Eleven,” Ashk “Just let ‘em in, piss-fer-brains!”
Grumbling under his breath, the bow-legged little orc shuffles out of sight. Imial says immediately, with admirable calm and worrying emotionlessness, and steps forward slightly. “Ashk Naze. From the tribe Ania of the southern forests. I would wish long days to you and short to your foes, but the first I do not wish and the second is certain while your foes are ours.” With the shallow nod of the head and blow of the fist to the chest that count for a bow among his people, he steps sharply back into line, his hands dropping to the discuses at his sides.The orcs stare for a moment, then burst into what might very well be laughter.“Garn, Ashk Naze, but yer ain’t ‘arf a piece’a work, are yer?” the one called Shanik says, when he has calmed down enough.“That is what we bring you,” Gamba says. He has to repeat it twice before the orcs hear him properly. “This is what we bring you! Not mûmakil and not the thousand spears we promised, but there’s ninety here who’ve proved themselves time and again.” Ignoring their comments, he raises his voice slightly and says, still perfectly calmly, “Better ninety than none, so let us in.”Shanik, who seems to be the leader of the two, makes a face and clips the smaller orc around the ear. “Let ‘em in, yer brain-rotted idiot!”“Who’re yer calling a brain-rotted idiot?”
Suits us? Pah!” The first orc spits now – it seems to be almost a nervous tic with these folk, Gamba thinks with grim amusement – and glances at the second, larger one. “Suits us, he says, Shanik! Turns up with nowt we ain’t got ‘ere already, no mûmakil, no nuffin’, and expects us ta let ‘em all in! What’s it to us, some little boys out’a the big desert? Take ‘im, there.” He points to Ashk, standing very still and firm and glaring up at them. “I’d betcha voice ain’t even broke yet. Betcha still piss yerself without yer mam ter ‘elp! ‘Ow old are yer?”
“Eleven,” Ashk “Just let ‘em in, piss-fer-brains!”
Grumbling under his breath, the bow-legged little orc shuffles out of sight. Imial says immediately, with admirable calm and worrying emotionlessness, and steps forward slightly. “Ashk Naze. From the tribe Ania of the southern forests. I would wish long days to you and short to your foes, but the first I do not wish and the second is certain while your foes are ours.” With the shallow nod of the head and blow of the fist to the chest that count for a bow among his people, he steps sharply back into line, his hands dropping to the discuses at his sides.The orcs stare for a moment, then burst into what might very well be laughter.“Garn, Ashk Naze, but yer ain’t ‘arf a piece’a work, are yer?” the one called Shanik says, when he has calmed down enough.“That is what we bring you,” Gamba says. He has to repeat it twice before the orcs hear him properly. “This is what we bring you! Not mûmakil and not the thousand spears we promised, but there’s ninety here who’ve proved themselves time and again.” Ignoring their comments, he raises his voice slightly and says, still perfectly calmly, “Better ninety than none, so let us in.”Shanik, who seems to be the leader of the two, makes a face and clips the smaller orc around the ear. “Let ‘em in, yer brain-rotted idiot!”“Who’re yer calling a brain-rotted idiot?”
Jack Vettriano The Same Old Game II
Jack Vettriano The Same Old Game IIJack Vettriano The Sailor's ToyJack Vettriano The RunawaysJack Vettriano The Rooms of a StrangerJack Vettriano The Road to Nowhere
strong, working towards the same aim, can only be an ally. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, as they say in the North. He thinks this is true, if only because the alternative – that they really are allying themselves with a new conqueror; that they are giving up so many of the sons of the desertbefore; the oldest man, the youngest… in the surviving Haradrim, there is barely a common factor. Skins range from that almost as white small of the back. Imial blinks, not having realised that he has frozen in place, hypnotised almost by the great black gates of Mordor. Looking around, though, he is grateful to notice that he is not the only one staring in rapt horror; of the ragtag band of a hundred or so Haradrim, he sees at least ten or fifteen others just as captivated. All of them are his age, give or take a few years – nobody older would let their mind wander so easily, he chides himself – but at least he is not alone.And now, looking properly at their little platoon, he notices things that he has never noticed before; the oldest man, the youngest… in the surviving Haradrim, there is barely a common factor. Skins range from that almost as white – and the jungles and the coasts, he supposes – for a wild dream – is too hideous even to consider.Behind him, Gamba, who has been just about everywhere, as far as Imial can tell, and has presumably seen much worse, simply sighs deeply, relieved, and pushes the young man lightly in the strong, working towards the same aim, can only be an ally. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, as they say in the North. He thinks this is true, if only because the alternative – that they really are allying themselves with a new conqueror; that they are giving up so many of the sons of the desert – and the jungles and the coasts, he supposes – for a wild dream – is too hideous even to consider.Behind him, Gamba, who has been just about everywhere, as far as Imial can tell, and has presumably seen much worse, simply sighs deeply, relieved, and pushes the young man lightly in the small of the back. Imial blinks, not having realised that he has frozen in place, hypnotised almost by the great black gates of Mordor. Looking around, though, he is grateful to notice that he is not the only one staring in rapt horror; of the ragtag band of a hundred or so Haradrim, he sees at least ten or fifteen others just as captivated. All of them are his age, give or take a few years – nobody older would let their mind wander so easily, he chides himself – but at least he is not alone.And now, looking properly at their little platoon, he notices things that he has never noticed
strong, working towards the same aim, can only be an ally. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, as they say in the North. He thinks this is true, if only because the alternative – that they really are allying themselves with a new conqueror; that they are giving up so many of the sons of the desertbefore; the oldest man, the youngest… in the surviving Haradrim, there is barely a common factor. Skins range from that almost as white small of the back. Imial blinks, not having realised that he has frozen in place, hypnotised almost by the great black gates of Mordor. Looking around, though, he is grateful to notice that he is not the only one staring in rapt horror; of the ragtag band of a hundred or so Haradrim, he sees at least ten or fifteen others just as captivated. All of them are his age, give or take a few years – nobody older would let their mind wander so easily, he chides himself – but at least he is not alone.And now, looking properly at their little platoon, he notices things that he has never noticed before; the oldest man, the youngest… in the surviving Haradrim, there is barely a common factor. Skins range from that almost as white – and the jungles and the coasts, he supposes – for a wild dream – is too hideous even to consider.Behind him, Gamba, who has been just about everywhere, as far as Imial can tell, and has presumably seen much worse, simply sighs deeply, relieved, and pushes the young man lightly in the strong, working towards the same aim, can only be an ally. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, as they say in the North. He thinks this is true, if only because the alternative – that they really are allying themselves with a new conqueror; that they are giving up so many of the sons of the desert – and the jungles and the coasts, he supposes – for a wild dream – is too hideous even to consider.Behind him, Gamba, who has been just about everywhere, as far as Imial can tell, and has presumably seen much worse, simply sighs deeply, relieved, and pushes the young man lightly in the small of the back. Imial blinks, not having realised that he has frozen in place, hypnotised almost by the great black gates of Mordor. Looking around, though, he is grateful to notice that he is not the only one staring in rapt horror; of the ragtag band of a hundred or so Haradrim, he sees at least ten or fifteen others just as captivated. All of them are his age, give or take a few years – nobody older would let their mind wander so easily, he chides himself – but at least he is not alone.And now, looking properly at their little platoon, he notices things that he has never noticed
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