Author: Calenlass Greenleaf
Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR in any sort of way.
Spoilers: LOTR in general. Slightly movie-verse, as this is imagery-heavy.
Warnings: What you expect from me. Some canon pairings will be mentioned.
Summary: Colours define every person. A collection of colour-themed oneshots for the characters of 'The Lord of the Rings.' Characters mean everyone from elves, men, dwarves, and even hobbits. However, I'll first do my favourite characters before moving on. 01: Aragorn.
A/N: The oneshots' lengths range. Strictly LOTR; no idea if I'll do any for the Silmarillion…too much on my plate. This collection is a spin-off of my "Blue and Grey" fic. The idea came to me when I posted a random entry on my LJ…I was bemoaning something about Cloud Strife LJ layouts all being black, and mentioned how certain people reminded me of certain colours…random, I know. My mind tends to tangent like that.
A/N#2: All colours are real colours. I wish FF-Net allowed coloured font…
Colours: Grey, Cobalt Blue, Dark Brown, and Dark Red, White
It is not a dull colour. It is simply a hue between black and white, either closer to the former or to the latter.
Grey is a symbol of his heritage. It is found in his eyes, and in the eyes of his people. In grey there is silver, and silver hints of nobility and wisdom. In grey there is blue, and blue holds royalty and steadfastness.
Grey…his goals and wishes in life.
Blue is colour that suits nearly everyone, including him. It is a durable colour, not weak. Neither is it an overt passionate colour; gentle on the eyes.
Cobalt blue is not a harsh blue like ice, but suggests an early spring day, when the snow has just melted, and the bitter cold of winter is banished—warm and soft.
It is the hue of his character, and his very personality. Sometimes tries to hide it, as he is afraid that this shade of blue is a vulnerable one, but it is not; blue is also a stubborn colour that pushes itself out when forced to hide behind other colours.
No person is complete without some dark colour. Brown—that drab, everyday sort of paint that splatters everywhere and is hard to get out. It exists everywhere; clinging to every person to some sort of degree. Add brown to any colour, and what happens? That colour darkens, sometimes in an unpleasant way.
It is a burden—a colour reminds him why rain comes and casts shadows over stormy days, why people kill each other, and why he must fight. It is the hue that speaks of responsibilities and duties that hang over his head.
Dark brown…the shade his destiny comes in. Heavy. Troublesome.
But it can be washed out, faded, to a different colour—in time. It can become a lighter more gentle colour.
It is not a permanent colour.
Reds are either loud or soft. Deep red fits into both categories.
It is a colour of royalty, and its hues decorate many tapestries and other fabrics. A beautiful, rich hue. It has the capability to make him fade into the background or bring him out of a picture.
Yet, it is also the colour of blood. Blood is blood, and sometimes it is bright, but under the moon, in a dark forest, a cave, a prison, it is dark. Its stain is darker than dark brown, and harder to remove. When it appears, it is loud and sharp—one cannot ignore its presence when it is there.
Dark red can be gentle, though. His beloved sometimes wears this colour, and its tone brings out the warm pink in her lips. When he wears this colour, it highlights his eyes. Red, surprisingly, can be subtle.
It contrasts itself. It can be stubborn or yielding, and bold or meek.
But it is a colour that suits him.
The colour that is brighter than other colour.
It can stand for many things.
It can be purity. Innocence. Light. Hope.
The colour is found in many places; Lothlórien and Rivendell extensively make use of it. It can be used to pattern a darker colour, or it stands on its own to highlight something.
Sometimes it is painful. Sometimes he looks as himself and wonders how anyone could stand up next to it. It is a strong shade of colour that is different from others. Maybe, it is the absence of colour itself?
Other times, it is fragile. Whiteness in a person's face or 'deathly pale' as it is better known as. He has seen this sort of white far too many times, and knows it is not a healthy colour.
More often than not, it is beautiful. The brightness of it, the way it stands out against a black background—like the White Tree of Gondor on the sable banner.
It gleams in any light, and can never be hidden.
Like him. He can hide, but he will always be found.
White was a colour meant to be seen, after all.
So he accepts it—the colour of his fate.
A/N: If you think I start wandering into the evil ways of purple prose and ridiculous metaphors/similes/etc, let me know. Or hit me over the head.
This isn't the Aragorn fic I promised on my LJ. But it's been a rather lousy week, my computer was hiccupping, and my muses tend to go off to Hawaii during the fall/winter/early spring…they haven't disappeared yet, but…they're hiding. *goes off snarking*