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Author Topic: [Hobbit + LotR] Líknví  (Read 3541 times)


  • Dwarves
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« on: October 19, 2014, 10:06:00 PM »


(As has gone with a lot of these from this 'sector', Risqué risk, more than that, Child Abuse sort or Risqué for below, just so you know before delving into this girl's life)

NAME:  Líknví  (Len-vee? If Ks are silent?)
NICKNAMES (IF ANY):  Li' (though it's a term of endearment and rare, but some in the house use it)
DATE OF BIRTH AND AGE (AS OF T.A. 2941): Spring 2886 (55)
PLACE OF BIRTH:  Grey Mountains
RACE: Dwarf
GENDER:  Female

HAIR COLOUR AND APPEARANCE: Light brown to auburnish (?) Falls to her back. She often keeps it braided into one single and simple braid due to an innate fear of it being fondled or messed with. It's rarely been touched without bad connotation even now, except for maybe as a Dwarfling when the older kids or women would give it an affectionate tousle as one would a sister or daughter, but that wasn't exactly prevalent.
EYE COLOUR:  A deep, pale sort of blue
BODY TYPE AND HEIGHT:  Slender and a bit on the short side even for a Dwarven female, but not overly so. Growing up hand to mouth and not doing much better now have set her still filling body into a pitifully thin one.
OVERALL APPEARANCE:  Dresses of shameful lack of material for a girl her age, all across the board, both now in "freedom" and growing up. Well growing up she was more covered in that she often times went about in breeches when the women of the house couldn't get dresses that would suite her and because boys have always been more prevalent in most Dwarven situation, even a crowded brothel house. Past 40 she could find dresses that would do, often of poor and scant quality but she was never graced the even fake "gemstone" adorned since the working women needed those and frankly doesn't care and is happy with her plain dress most times. She's looking to hide not attract. She won't touch the color red in any form due to where she grew up. Doesn't wear necklaces or scarves because she fears anything being that close to her facial area that could be turned against her and limit sight or screams as being deaf already made her have to be weary of being snuck up upon
DISTINGUISHING MARKS:  With her tavern work she will often times have bruises from being grabbed, at times in innocent attention getting of the deaf bar-maid, though she's good enough at reading cues and this shouldn't be a true excuse. More often that not at just rough treatment. "Love bites" at times, because although she seeks to avoid and has never given anyone a night, she's been abused and has only climbed out of her pit so far, flattering words stalling her too much though she knows they don't mean it.
WEAPONS:  For the longest time, while she needed them, while on her own and half-grown, she's used anything at her disposal be it kitchen impliment or knife. Here recently (2935+) and shortly after making it to the tavern a kind young smith who, while acting flustered at talking to her, recognized her piteous looks and seeming situation gifted her a dagger of her very own if she would let it pay for drinks and requesting nothing else of her. It bumped her faith in males and though the secret could see her life ruined, she kept it and messed with figures so it not be noticed. She must be careful to hide it though so none wonder on her acquiring it.
FACE CLAIM:  Ryan Newman

STRENGTHS:  She has her own quiet kind of Resilience to have not just completely caved in yet. Sweet and even tempered. Attempted Nurturing for those younger those she's not sure at all how to go about that. In terms of talents to make up for short comings, she can read lips to the extent of skill never hearing the spoken word allows, but she picked it up about the same as hearing anyway, just with so-so-talent. Excels at Iglishmêk (Grey Mountain 'dialect') yet beyond others skills most times.
WEAKNESSES: Born Deaf, it puts her at a great disadvantage and all but cements her place and situation, much as she tries to break. She can't really survive on her own, not in any kind of stable self-sufficiency anyway and muddle is the best she can manage. Desperate and deprived, this is a girl who craved love and while she hates her lot in life not being able to be much better she pulls all she can from it. Accommodating to a fault and a bit on the meek, weak seeming side if you don't know she left home and all, her front clashes with will inside.
ASPIRATIONS: She would say Happy Life, Happy Family, but that's so far removed for a possibility. Love seems to simple, but it's what she strives for, acceptance for who she is and that...when someone goes to kiss her they would want to kiss only her, in vague concept, in truth any dreams of family are even further given distance in that she doesn't understand males and doubts she ever will.
FEARS: Her Life. The normal things like Thunderstorms (the flashes are somehow worse when thunder is just a felt rumble) and waking alone at night, but also flip side, waking not alone. Rough hands and embraces, slaps and utter degradation. Males in general in a sense. Strangers.
PERSONALITY:  If you ask Líknví who she is, well first you have to sign or write it, but she'll hesitate even beyond the language barriers and ask who do you want her to be, or try to determine it before answering. This isn't to say she's weak...well not overly so, she's just love deprived despite the best efforts of a few, and wants your acceptance more than anything. Shy and quiet beyond the trauma and limitations, but exacerbated due to them! You know you've broken through and she is both hopeful she's got your approval and genuinely glad of talking to you if she "talks too fast" and you can't keep up with her hand gestures. That and her smile. If who she is comes out unhindered, you'll see a girl that fits her outer assumptions and is reserved, but also caring and wanting the same back from the world.

Yet once upon a time, deaf or no, Líknví eagerly clambered rickety stalls and rocks and anything the poor terrain offered. One day a princess, the next an adventurer. The children who would put up with non-verbal communications were slim and at times it was just her and imagined friends, but the Fifty-Five year old "child" still remembers bold dreams reality didn't dent, and she still is that child, or more, that Líknví is still there somewhere beneath layers of fear and abandonment.


She was just one more small child born to a brothel working mother, yet one who had been in this game long and was inbittered, partly due to a rivalry with "young" Astir for the respect she should get but the young woman naturally gained. It was just a behind the scenes occupational disagreeing and all out snideness at times, until Líknví's mother was told her tries at ridding the child hadn't taken.

Upon Líknví's birth, she sneered at hearing the child was deaf (as it it wasn't due to her own actions!) and told her oldest girl still around the house, one with too much of her own temperment, to drown it before passing on, thankfully her criticisms and order going unheard by little Líknví who reached out chubby needing hands to the girl holding her whom she didn't know was her sister and it didn't matter anyway. If she'd grown under her mother's harshness, maybe the babe would have understood it more, but not complying wasn't an option and so her sister (not wanting the thing tagging to her either) went to comply with her mother's dying wish and yet Astir didn't abide infanticide at this point and Líknví was saved, but at the cost of the last uncaring relation she had tumbling into the river meant for her.

It was due to none of Astir's fault even in the tussle and suspiciously it was almost like the girl gave in same as her mother had.

Growing up from infancy for Líknví, with none to actually claim her, was an odd mix of playmates and feeling alone and forgotten. She toddled after pretty much any of the women or older children who would tolerate her, almost begging of them that someone, anyone, own her as their own even if she wasn't.

She knew from too young an age why she grew amongst a random collection of others, but...didn't anyone have a clue as to who her father was? Líknví would not be above begging affection from him if she could just indentify him in any of the clientele to come through the brothel. It was a nigh impossible question though, and especially when you had to use your own made up signs to ask in the first place!

Growing up, Líknví sort of got the impression she was a bother with not being able to just laugh and converse with the other children of the house or even general area. She'd often times just sit in a corner playing with the meagre drapes or peering from the window, muttering to herself on occasion in that unsure voice of those who have never heard. She didn't do this much though, for the teasing at times.

It was an odd mix that flittered through, and she was still a young thing when Astir's own Kvasir left for "grown-up-big-boy-life-making", and he wasn't like her older brother or anything, no matter how many times he'd call her 'little sister', but he was always kind and that was something that got lodged in Líknví memory for it's rarity. She'd given him a proud smile before he left, though, just imagining up the shiny armor they would give him and imagining the older kid as going off to grander things than in reality the solider's life was. She knew so little as a toddler, but saw a salute somewhere and so mimicked back to him with a wide grin. And she might have cried that night at losing one of the kinder and attentive older kids, but she cried at a lot of things.

Her communications as she grew were just made up of her gestures and scribbling. She forced herself to be moderately good at writing for the options it presented, and while she was about the only one who could read her scribbles a little letter teaching from Astir produced, it made her happy and happy was good in her life.

Then, one day one, of the kinder cliental of the house took a notice to her. Two of his friends had come in with him and it had seemed to be their idea, not that that absolved the odd mix of fear and gratitude she viewed the men with, and he'd still added more coin to help them through, but on the way out paused and let his friends go on. Kneeling before the girl who tried to shuffle back, he muttered something so low her lip reading didn't catch it, but guilt washed his face. (her bright eyes reminded him of his wife he couldn't face, was what he said, but she didn't know this). With a curt explanation from one of the other kids it was explained she couldn't hear as the girl just continued to stare.

He looked stunned, then smiled a smile Líknví instantly liked. Using his own made up gestures that would be further to what she knew, he figured, she got the gist, he was a traveling merchant, stationed here a while, and he knew Iglishmêk. Guilt and perhaps pity saw the merchant linger and then visit the house again the next day, but for Líknví exclusively and to show her signs which the child eagerly lapped up and laughed hesitantly as she learned. The kind merchant even got a hug, Líknví not judging him anymore on what had initially brought him there than she would all the others. Just when it seemed the other women might  mind the visits, the merchant who never told his name, to Líknví anyway, through more guilt perhaps, started paying for his time and to appease them anyway and then carried on with the lessons. Since he ended up spending a few hours a day per lessons it was a handsome pay out as far as the meagre house saw and so he was indulged, the other children seeming to enjoy his visits too as he laughed and rough housed with a few of the boys in that innocent, almost loving way their fathers never did. In this way he also gained a small rag-a-muffin stall guarding watching from some of the boys too, who figured stealing from him was unfair...for the most part.

Yet even this ray in Líknví's life was destined to of course just fill a void in all the children's hearts and then move on. She eventually stopped waiting at the window just in case even after a few of the others, understanding the signs a bit themselves, and off her still just reading their lips, told her he had moved on home.

"They do that", one of her peers, Ruri, tried to tell her, but she still pinned a bit like a lost puppy before "getting over it". Weakness seemed to sit wrong with Astir, and Líknví, never wanting anyone to not like her, and most especially not that woman with such respect earned, didn't want to get pegged weak. Apparently "Roo" was right, though, and leaving was common place, or so Líknví was lead to believe when the house recieved news of Kvasir's supposed death and she shed tears again for the kind boy

This one merchant from earlier reinforced that hope Líknví tried to keep to of good men existing, and she clung to it still even if the whole other set she saw growing seemed to be the same base lot as before. As she grew from childhood to awkward puberty and her features came more into their own, she hated how she gained their looks more. Reading expressions was Líknví's whole world and she didn't like what she read.

Líknví started trying to hide more than she had even before and yet with that odd neediness in her was curious as well, maybe their attentions wouldn't be so bad and maybe it was what being loved was, or near as she could get. She knew better though, even prior. Knowing the day she to would have to join in the work of the house (for what else was there?) was steadily getting nearer, Líknví was a mess of nerves and odd hope that it could be what she craved of affection all along and give what she wanted from the world of acceptance and love. She puzzled over it until a mutual solution (she figured) was presented.

All the boys of the house got shipped off when they reached a certain age, but one of them, Jarní, failed at his bid of doing something with his life and was sent back home in disgrace from a failed undertaking career. His mother bold and bluntly exclaiming how the child had been around death with the amount of still-borns of the house, how did he not know how to take care of it?! In truth she was exasperated at having to now figure out what next to try.

While he piddled and both youth were in their late Fourty's, Líknví (with fear pounding her heart from her very throat it seemed!) approached him with questions of how males worked and what was the best way to act and all that, again through vague gesture gist. Jarní was fearful of his own future amounting to nothing and so marriage was going to be out and he'd of course never return to the house he grew up in for...that, so both peers saw an option in the other and he meekly said he'd try to show her, if she wanted, an even meeker nod being his answer since Líknví needed some sort of answers. Tentatively kissing her, he tried to not act like he was lost and confused too and like he was the one teaching yet...while he almost play enacted that which they had seen in the house their whole lives growing up, and touched and kissed quite intimately far, Líknví stopped him just shy of loosing herself fully and shoved him aside, fearfully making to a corner and fervently denying his reassurances, all but huddled in.

Hurt, Wounded, Hopeful but not naive eyes just stared at him through tears as he pulled the 'I love you' card! Of all males, he should know better! That's what they told his mother too! Yet...Mahal help her, when he brushed her cheek, she leaned in, trying to make herself see love in his eyes, though she didn't, just another desperate kid.

Her saving grace was the women making it into the room to notice the unattended half-children and his hurriedly scrambling for his articles and bolting, probably lest his mother discover. She didn't know what happened with his future because Líknví gave up on hers then and there. It was just another fear bolt response, done before she could fully weigh it all.

A stronger girl would have conjured up a plan, lured some cart driver with her useful known house profession. Líknví was too scared.

That night, at Fourty-Seven, young "child" still or no, she snuck out and decided she would hazard dying on the road as the fear of and her age and limitations had kept her bound. She still had no idea what she was doing and was not fit for true travel though, or told herself not and so hitch-hiked carts bound the right way, pausing on occasion and over two years making it to Eriador and Bree in 2935. Though she sought to escape degrading herself for coin, work at one of the local taverns was as much as she could snag for herself. wasn't a Dwarven settlement, though, and she could just pass unobtrusive and try to blend though all sorts from Men to Dwarves frequented and Bree was a trade ground. It was worse when actual Men would glance curiously but she was not...there was nothing in her job description that said! So Líknví, while dealing with comment, abuse and unasked for touch, especially when some Dwarven males would happen by who said "they could tell what a prize she was where as these Men had no idea", she's unobtrusively gone along and kept herself from full on hell.

Ered Luin and the hope it seems to symbolize is but a short distance away and yet, this girl who's traveled so far shies from trying to settle there for knowing what their taverns would bring and knowing that's as near as she can get to freedom, her own decision and flimsy lines none respect anyway she's drawn. She knows she can't ever return to the Grey Mountains, she let down everyone partly by not taking any one else's kids with her, and yet every day of struggle and dependency miles didn't alleviate has her fearing it's a lost cause and she'll die or sink back to inevitability. Though she can write as well as sign, she doesn't keep the impliments handy because she just wants to shuffle through life and feels it doesn't matter.

Whenever the noble, kind Smith, Fritz, who sold her a blade at the honorable cost of just a bartered pint to refresh from travels, is in Bree he checks up but she fears what even light acquaintance with one such as her, who might as well be soiled though she's not, would do to him and his poor mother's heart were she to discover.

Yet as he amusingly said when she tried to ward him off lightly and shyly, it's not like interest or anything he'll resolutely die a bachelor despite his mother's best efforts, he just has a sister (it seems all his brothers' excuses with pity and aid) and it's not like he's "spoken" to her by shared Iglishmêk signs (the smithing ones are enough for him to know) and she knows he doesn't mean a bit of insult by it and is instead just putting her at ease as these Nobility seem to do. It's all confusing and interesting to the girl, this different cloth and she's shyly grateful even an allie who's in Bree every now and again as she knows she may need all the friends she can get for her bid to work and to not be shipped back to Ered Mithrin where she's tagged. She resolutely says she'll starve first but...knows she's still settled in a sense, if with some small shred of dignity, and it keeps her awake sometimes. Through Fritz she reunited with Kvas', though, and that's been a shining light in her life to know the death rumor was false, though hearing how abused he's been has not. She can imagine too well the pain of his struggle not speaking!

AGE:  How dare you, I don't care if it says optional ^^
COUNTRY:  Can't I just say I live here?
EXPERIENCE:  Uh, I forgot
OTHER CHARACTERS: "Ok, be nice to the new girl", I say to...Bilbo, Gard, Sofia, Dagmar, Fritz, Saga, Nyx and Nauroval
CONTACT:  Nauroval! My Eagle will run my messages, oh it will be awesome! Or PM if you can't reach her
*points to above charries* Go find them

« Last Edit: March 30, 2016, 01:31:12 PM by Mandos »

Sig made by wonderful Cass ~



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« Reply #1 on: October 21, 2014, 12:13:00 AM »
Oh Gard, you already know that I absolutely adore Líknví!  I cannot wait to see where she takes you and I am terribly excited to thread with her. *shoves Ástir and Kvasir your way* <3

Fíli | Kvasir | Andar | Ivorak | Haleth | Loire | Faramir


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