meretricula (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
meretricula) wrote2005-12-18 09:48 pm
meretricula) wrote2005-12-18 09:48 pm
Entry tags:
more 30 Kisses
this is getting to be a regular weekend thing, really...
anyway, enjoy, Sylvie et al. ~love to all~
"Look, Erestor, it really isn't that hard," Glorfindel sighed wearily. "You hold the sword. By the handle. It's also called the hilt. You lift the sword into the air. You then swing it at your opponent. You don't swing it at yourself. There's no way you could hurt yourself. The hurting comes when your opponent swings back. I won't attack you. I'll just block. You'll be fine."
Erestor glared suspiciously at the practice sword Glorfindel had pressed into his hand. "Do you remember what I told you about me and weapons, Glorfindel? They result in blood and pain. My blood and pain. Every weaponsmaster in Lindon tried and failed to teach me how to use one of these things. Gil-galad tried to teach me how to use one of these things. I broke the sword, sprained my ankle, and destroyed three mirrors in his practice salle in one afternoon."
"Erestor, the sword is made of wood," Glorfindel replied unsympathetically. "It is dull. There will be no blood, and the only pain will be mine, if you smack me too hard. Now swing the damn sword."
"Don't say I didn't warn you," Erestor muttered, and swung. Glorfindel blocked easily.
"See? That wasn't so bad. Now, shift your stance to the one I taught you. Your feet aren't aligned properly." Erestor glared, and shifted his feet. "Good! Try again."
Erestor lunged, tripped over his own feet in their unfamiliar configuration, and fell hard. One arm got caught between his body and the wooden practice sword; his free hand hit the ground in exactly the wrong way, trapped beneath the thick wooden blade. There was a loud snap.
"Only you, Erestor, could break that sword without trying," Glorfindel chuckled, bending down to help Erestor up. As he pulled his slender lover into a sitting position, he couldn't help but notice that Erestor was a deathly shade of pale. Also, the practice sword was completely intact.
"Ow," Erestor said distinctly, staring down at his wrist. It was bent at a highly unnatural angle. He paused briefly to think, then added, more emphatically, "Ow."
Glorfindel, widely held to be the greatest warrior of all time, the only living Balrog Slayer in the world, went a sickly shade of green. "Oh. Oh."
"OW," Erestor reiterated, in case Glorfindel had missed the first two times, and passed out. Glorfindel shrieked like a girl. Several of his men immediately ran out of the room to fetch Elrond. The rest backed away, wisely, as Glorfindel proceeded to have a full-blown hyperventilating panic-attack.
"Oh, honestly, Glorfindel," Elrond said disgustedly as he hurried into the room, much to the relief of the guards. He pushed Glorfindel out of the way and examined Erestor's arm quickly. "It's just broken. You'd think he'd died, the way you're carrying on."
"But - but - Erestor - "
"Shut up," Elrond replied absently. He set Erestor's arm swiftly and efficiently, and splinted it using the wooden sword and strips of fabric torn from his outer robe. "Make yourself useful and bring him to the Halls of Healing so I can wrap that up properly, and stop carrying on like a hysterical girl-child. He'll be fine in a few weeks."
"Yes, Elrond," Glorfindel said quietly, and obeyed.
*
"I suppose that could have been worse," Erestor said upon waking in the Halls of Healing.
Glorfindel, who had fallen asleep while kneeling at his bedside, jerked awake. "Erestor, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have - "
"It's fine," Erestor replied, yawning. "I wouldn't have let you make me if I didn't want to try it. I suppose you'll have to fight my duels for me for a while, though," he added with a faint smile.
"I'll win every challenge for you," Glorfindel vowed, half-serious.
"Good," Erestor teased. "My champion must be undefeated. My honor hangs in the balance."
Glorfindel got to his feet and bent over Erestor, his eyes strangely intent. "I'll protect you and your honor with my life," he promised fiercely. "I'll never let you get hurt again."
Erestor would have said something light-hearted to break the odd mood that seemed to have settled over the blond warrior, but he immediately leaned down and kissed Erestor's breath away, and by the time their lips parted, Erestor had forgotten what he wanted to say.
this one has a kinda-sorta-maybe direct sequel coming up, but it's going to be long so I'm being lazy and putting off writing it. Hopefully by Christmas, eh?
anyway, enjoy, Sylvie et al. ~love to all~
"Look, Erestor, it really isn't that hard," Glorfindel sighed wearily. "You hold the sword. By the handle. It's also called the hilt. You lift the sword into the air. You then swing it at your opponent. You don't swing it at yourself. There's no way you could hurt yourself. The hurting comes when your opponent swings back. I won't attack you. I'll just block. You'll be fine."
Erestor glared suspiciously at the practice sword Glorfindel had pressed into his hand. "Do you remember what I told you about me and weapons, Glorfindel? They result in blood and pain. My blood and pain. Every weaponsmaster in Lindon tried and failed to teach me how to use one of these things. Gil-galad tried to teach me how to use one of these things. I broke the sword, sprained my ankle, and destroyed three mirrors in his practice salle in one afternoon."
"Erestor, the sword is made of wood," Glorfindel replied unsympathetically. "It is dull. There will be no blood, and the only pain will be mine, if you smack me too hard. Now swing the damn sword."
"Don't say I didn't warn you," Erestor muttered, and swung. Glorfindel blocked easily.
"See? That wasn't so bad. Now, shift your stance to the one I taught you. Your feet aren't aligned properly." Erestor glared, and shifted his feet. "Good! Try again."
Erestor lunged, tripped over his own feet in their unfamiliar configuration, and fell hard. One arm got caught between his body and the wooden practice sword; his free hand hit the ground in exactly the wrong way, trapped beneath the thick wooden blade. There was a loud snap.
"Only you, Erestor, could break that sword without trying," Glorfindel chuckled, bending down to help Erestor up. As he pulled his slender lover into a sitting position, he couldn't help but notice that Erestor was a deathly shade of pale. Also, the practice sword was completely intact.
"Ow," Erestor said distinctly, staring down at his wrist. It was bent at a highly unnatural angle. He paused briefly to think, then added, more emphatically, "Ow."
Glorfindel, widely held to be the greatest warrior of all time, the only living Balrog Slayer in the world, went a sickly shade of green. "Oh. Oh."
"OW," Erestor reiterated, in case Glorfindel had missed the first two times, and passed out. Glorfindel shrieked like a girl. Several of his men immediately ran out of the room to fetch Elrond. The rest backed away, wisely, as Glorfindel proceeded to have a full-blown hyperventilating panic-attack.
"Oh, honestly, Glorfindel," Elrond said disgustedly as he hurried into the room, much to the relief of the guards. He pushed Glorfindel out of the way and examined Erestor's arm quickly. "It's just broken. You'd think he'd died, the way you're carrying on."
"But - but - Erestor - "
"Shut up," Elrond replied absently. He set Erestor's arm swiftly and efficiently, and splinted it using the wooden sword and strips of fabric torn from his outer robe. "Make yourself useful and bring him to the Halls of Healing so I can wrap that up properly, and stop carrying on like a hysterical girl-child. He'll be fine in a few weeks."
"Yes, Elrond," Glorfindel said quietly, and obeyed.
*
"I suppose that could have been worse," Erestor said upon waking in the Halls of Healing.
Glorfindel, who had fallen asleep while kneeling at his bedside, jerked awake. "Erestor, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have - "
"It's fine," Erestor replied, yawning. "I wouldn't have let you make me if I didn't want to try it. I suppose you'll have to fight my duels for me for a while, though," he added with a faint smile.
"I'll win every challenge for you," Glorfindel vowed, half-serious.
"Good," Erestor teased. "My champion must be undefeated. My honor hangs in the balance."
Glorfindel got to his feet and bent over Erestor, his eyes strangely intent. "I'll protect you and your honor with my life," he promised fiercely. "I'll never let you get hurt again."
Erestor would have said something light-hearted to break the odd mood that seemed to have settled over the blond warrior, but he immediately leaned down and kissed Erestor's breath away, and by the time their lips parted, Erestor had forgotten what he wanted to say.
this one has a kinda-sorta-maybe direct sequel coming up, but it's going to be long so I'm being lazy and putting off writing it. Hopefully by Christmas, eh?
no subject
no subject
no subject
Tezuka = frog
Atobe = snake
Dan = hungarian hamster
Mizuki = pure white rabbit *snicker*
http://www.livejournal.com/users/leviosa8/312915.html
GAHHH I CAN'T DESCRIBE THIS TO YOU ANYMORE. I AM LIKE LITERALLY ROFLING RIGHT NOW OMG OMG I HAVEN'T EVEN FINISHED READING THIS YET AHHHHHHHH
no subject
no subject
I like randomly linking stuff for you
http://www.livejournal.com/community/go_exchange/9307.html
Re: I like randomly linking stuff for you
Re: I like randomly linking stuff for you
Re: I like randomly linking stuff for you
Re: I like randomly linking stuff for you
Join it, and read the locked posts. But keep it on the down low. :P
no subject
no subject