67 days. Choice (Aragorn/Arven)
In the Last Shelter, the whispers didn't stop whispering. Elves were going to leave these lands forever - their time is over, the era of people is coming, and they will go back to the past, returning to the native shores of faraway Valinor. The coming war no longer concerns them, because it is not them who started it, but their forces have already been applied to prevent it.
Arwen was confused. Her vow to Aragornu burnt her heart, fed by the strongest and brightest feeling - love. She poured out her excitement and anxiety, embroidered with silver threads the drawing of a tree on a huge canvas, which should become a symbol of strength and hope for the beloved and his followers. Stitch by stitch.
She sang silent, sad songs to break the oppressive atmosphere, filled with a humming swarm of talk about the upcoming battle and the approaching departure. Her fingers clenched tightly and tightly, clinging to it, drowning in straws. She didn't want to think or decide anything. Her heart broke in pain because the separation was inevitable - either she bid farewell to her lover, without whom she could no longer imagine life, or to her dear father, who was everything to her.
The choice was too hard, and anyone would be wrong.
How unfair everything is.
"What did you think, Luthien? - Arwen called her thoughts to the past, raising her head to the night sky and talking to the stars. But they answered with a cold glow, burning like ice.
She may lose her family forever, but to acquire it in people, becoming one of them, losing his gift of immortality and the opportunity to return to Valinor.
"Am I ready for this? - Arwen asked herself, inserting a thread into the eye of a needle. Her hands were not so easy to twitch and do it, but she continued her painstaking work, sparing no effort. At least so her feelings and support will be achieved there, on the edge of the abyss, where he fights with the forces of darkness. She wanted to be there for her, but Arwen would be even more useless there than in her beloved Rivendale.
Her father's hands clench her fragile shoulders, trying to support her in her difficult choice.
- Everything depends on you," he says, kissing his beloved daughter in dark hair. Arwen knows he doesn't approve of her love and is dissatisfied with the fact that she's willing to leave her family for the sake of man. She is the Elven Evening Star, she needs to be close to her people. But her heart pulls her to the one whose age is not so long, compared to eternity.
Arwen carefully folds the banner, tying it with a strong elven rope, which resembles liquid silver. She leaves a kiss on it, pressing it against her, trying to fill it with the warmth of her heart, which belongs to Aragorn forever. Arwen is sure that he will understand her message, understand what she wants to say to him.
She loves him. And she will stay with him, become his banner and star, illuminating his short but spent living together.
68 days. Love and poverty. Part 1 (Sherlock/John)
Sherlock wasn't happy looking at the hole in the hem of his coat. Not that he cared much about the safety of things, but to look tidy he loved and honored his appearance, which always smelled nobility and pride. Counts Holmes had a great influence on the country, and that's why the inhabitants of their own lands bowed before him, recognizing the power and authority. They had everything. Therefore, the sons of the honourable parents always lived in luxury and did not deny themselves anything. Mycroft Holmes became one of the leading politicians of the country, while the younger one, upsetting his parents, was doing strange and sometimes frightening experiments in the basements of the family house, going to the crime scene to, as he put it, "help monkeys to put the same monkeys behind bars". Sherlock Holmes really surprised him with his mind, he could easily be called a genius, but he had no problem communicating with people. He considered everyone around him to be below the primate level of development and did not get tired of talking about it. The younger count had a lot of enemies, and many times he was tried to kill, but he continued to live for spite.
- John, where are you taking me? - Sherlock was nagging me, sneaking through the bushes.
- Lord Holmes, you asked to take you to the place of the blossoming of this strange plant, - his companion nagged, quietly going forward, not paying attention to the difficulties. In the end, his whole life in such a mode - being a simple craftsman, he fought all his life, unlike these rich people.
- Are you making a fuss about me? - Sherlock said outrageously, piercing the village boy with his eyes.
- No, I'm just making sure you don't drown in this swamp," John snorted. Suddenly he grabbed the Count by the hand and pulled on himself. - You were just about to step into the bog.
Holmes lost his speech from such impudence. Why does he allow some poor man to push himself around? Their meeting was an accident in itself - Sherlock just came into the studio to find out something for his experiments and stumbled upon this young man, not like the others. He was interested in everything, he dared to be bold and to speak out directly to an individual higher in status. And yet John sincerely almost childishly admired the genius of Sherlock. Such a symbiosis of qualities seemed surprising to a genius because it can not be. Especially for someone who has lived his whole life in the darkness of ignorance and poverty. But John was such - incomprehensible, amazing, but interesting, as the most difficult puzzle, although he is all normal.
- Do not go far in yourself. You can't get out of the Mind of Devils," John said, continuing to lead his companion through the woods with confidence, taking him away from home, where everyone was looking at him with a mixture of admiration and hatred and didn't understand his views.
Sherlock clenched his palm, which was as rough as it could be from the hard work, allowing himself to be taken away from the world as far away as possible.
With a nice paradise and in a hut?
A stupid phrase that Sherlock despised, but now he was ready to believe in it.