updates! Wheee!
Feb. 27th, 2004 11:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
meretriculabecause I love Sylvie. And she has been a patient little beta.
Lecherous
Glorfindel meandered down the hallway, whistling to himself. He neither noticed nor would have cared that he was miserably off-key. Glancing down the hall, he assured himself that he was quite alone, and paused in front of a mirror to preen.
/Ah, the charm of a flawless complexion, perfectly symmetrical features, and... is that a split end?/
Horrified, he seized the offending lock of hair and examined it thoroughly. Having located the source of distress, he quickly pulled out his trusty scissors and snipped it off. /Much better./ He smiled winningly at his reflection and adjusted his long, shining hair.
The sound of shod feet hitting the tiled floor at a faster-than-average speed distracted Glorfindel from his self-contemplation, and he hurriedly turned away from the mirror, just in time to see Elrond scurry down the hall, babbling to himself and gesticulating wildly. "Perfectly normal, of course, of course, the stress, the weight of his duties, that's all, naturally... Elbereth help me that was—GAH!"
Suddenly noticing Glorfindel, he backpedaled rapidly to avoid collision, overbalanced, and fell, straight onto the delightfully curvaceous posterior which Erestor so frequently contemplated with the greatest abstraction. "Glorfindel!" he yelped. "What are you doing here?"
"Fixing my hair," he replied automatically.
Elrond nodded distractedly. "Yes, yes, very good. Just... carry on." He got to his feet and continued down the hall, still arguing with himself. Glorfindel stared after him for a moment, then shrugged and turned back to his reflection. /Hello there, gorgeous./
And Good Morning
Galadriel glanced about the gaily lit hall, her sharp gaze shifting from person to person before finally coming to a rest on her daughter. Celebrian was so different now, so serious and solemn. The laughter that had always glinted madly in her eyes was gone. Galadriel still loved her--nothing would ever change that. But she was not the same daughter she had had, before she went across the Sea.
Elrond, standing by her side, showed her the utmost courtesy, but Galadriel's heart wrenched with pity for both of them. The Peredhel did not know how to act around his wife anymore. And in all honesty, Galadriel did not believe that Celebrian wanted to be his wife at all.
/Thank the Lady for Cirdan,/ she thought vaguely. Celebrian had formed an unlikely friendship with the taciturn Shipwright, one composed mainly of comfortable, understanding silences and mutual aid-in-defense in awkward social situations. Even as the Lady of Light watched, the silver-haired sailor approached the former Lady of Imladris and wordlessly offered her his hand. She accepted it with a grateful smile and was whirled off into an elegant pavane. Elrond said nothing, but stood by with a terribly relieved look on his face.
Galadriel considered going to him, but before she could decide one way or the other, Erestor slipped up to his lord and laid a gentle, comforting hand on his shoulder. One of the Lady's eyebrows arched at what she saw. Like every elf who had sailed away with the Ringbearers, she knew of the love affair between Erestor and Glorfindel... and its tragic end.
Elrond and Erestor drifted into the dance like leaves on the wind, carried wherever the current took them. Across the ballroom, Cirdan and Celebrian danced in silence, her forehead resting against his shoulder in a rare show of vulnerability. Cirdan and Celebrian... Erestor and Elrond. One marriage was breaking, two were slowly being formed.
/And what of the others?/ she wondered, with the insight of an onlooker. /Cirdan has no lover save the sea and Elrond and Celebrian clearly care for each other no more... but what happens when Glorfindel crosses the Sea at last? What then?/ She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off a sudden chill. /What will you do, Erestor, when you come face to face with the love you left behind? Will you return to him? Or will you leave him, mad and mourning, on the jagged shores of his broken mind?/
*
Celeborn settled back into bed, drawing his covers over his body. Melpomaen had been put back to bed with a stern injunction to stay there until at least noon, the patients were all secure in their own rooms, and Celeborn at last had time to himself. Closing his eyes, he flung his mind out wide. /Galadriel, love, I miss you./
Far away as she was, he still felt her smile. /I miss you, too./
/What news of Valinor?/
There was a pause, as Galadriel sifted through her thoughts. /Elrond and Celebrian have parted,/ she said at last. /Our daughter drifts ever closer to the Shipwright. I think they will make each other happy./
/Cirdan is a good man,/ Celeborn allowed. /And what says Elrond of this?/
/Elrond says nothing. He watches them like a man reprieved of his execution whenever Cirdan takes her away./
/Then perhaps it is better that Celebrian leave him, before either feels obligated to renew their marriage. Aught else?/
She was silent for a long moment. /I fear Erestor and Elrond have grown too close for comfort. When he first came Erestor spent hours on the shore, watching the horizon, waiting. I am greatly afraid that he has given up on hoping for Glorfindel's coming. And Elrond does not turn aside understanding where it is offered./
Celeborn winced. /'Tis about Erestor that I wished to hear, though in truth I know not if this is good news or bad. Do you recall our little healer?/
/Melpomaen? He still refuses to sail?/
/And will until all of his patients may come with him. Aiya, Galadriel, what did we do to that poor child? To hand the care of the mad over to an empath--/
/He is a healer,/ she said firmly. /His talents were given to him to help him help others./
/But they hurt him so.../ Celeborn shook his head briskly to rid himself of such thoughts. /And he has fallen in love with Glorfindel./
Across the Sea, Galadriel sighed in sympathy. /There is nothing you can do for him, my love. Not even I can heal broken hearts./
Celeborn smiled wistfully. /I know./
She felt him slip into slumber a few minutes later, sagging back against his soft pillows. /Good night, my love,/ she whispered, and was gone.
happy now, doll?
MWAH!
Lecherous
Glorfindel meandered down the hallway, whistling to himself. He neither noticed nor would have cared that he was miserably off-key. Glancing down the hall, he assured himself that he was quite alone, and paused in front of a mirror to preen.
/Ah, the charm of a flawless complexion, perfectly symmetrical features, and... is that a split end?/
Horrified, he seized the offending lock of hair and examined it thoroughly. Having located the source of distress, he quickly pulled out his trusty scissors and snipped it off. /Much better./ He smiled winningly at his reflection and adjusted his long, shining hair.
The sound of shod feet hitting the tiled floor at a faster-than-average speed distracted Glorfindel from his self-contemplation, and he hurriedly turned away from the mirror, just in time to see Elrond scurry down the hall, babbling to himself and gesticulating wildly. "Perfectly normal, of course, of course, the stress, the weight of his duties, that's all, naturally... Elbereth help me that was—GAH!"
Suddenly noticing Glorfindel, he backpedaled rapidly to avoid collision, overbalanced, and fell, straight onto the delightfully curvaceous posterior which Erestor so frequently contemplated with the greatest abstraction. "Glorfindel!" he yelped. "What are you doing here?"
"Fixing my hair," he replied automatically.
Elrond nodded distractedly. "Yes, yes, very good. Just... carry on." He got to his feet and continued down the hall, still arguing with himself. Glorfindel stared after him for a moment, then shrugged and turned back to his reflection. /Hello there, gorgeous./
And Good Morning
Galadriel glanced about the gaily lit hall, her sharp gaze shifting from person to person before finally coming to a rest on her daughter. Celebrian was so different now, so serious and solemn. The laughter that had always glinted madly in her eyes was gone. Galadriel still loved her--nothing would ever change that. But she was not the same daughter she had had, before she went across the Sea.
Elrond, standing by her side, showed her the utmost courtesy, but Galadriel's heart wrenched with pity for both of them. The Peredhel did not know how to act around his wife anymore. And in all honesty, Galadriel did not believe that Celebrian wanted to be his wife at all.
/Thank the Lady for Cirdan,/ she thought vaguely. Celebrian had formed an unlikely friendship with the taciturn Shipwright, one composed mainly of comfortable, understanding silences and mutual aid-in-defense in awkward social situations. Even as the Lady of Light watched, the silver-haired sailor approached the former Lady of Imladris and wordlessly offered her his hand. She accepted it with a grateful smile and was whirled off into an elegant pavane. Elrond said nothing, but stood by with a terribly relieved look on his face.
Galadriel considered going to him, but before she could decide one way or the other, Erestor slipped up to his lord and laid a gentle, comforting hand on his shoulder. One of the Lady's eyebrows arched at what she saw. Like every elf who had sailed away with the Ringbearers, she knew of the love affair between Erestor and Glorfindel... and its tragic end.
Elrond and Erestor drifted into the dance like leaves on the wind, carried wherever the current took them. Across the ballroom, Cirdan and Celebrian danced in silence, her forehead resting against his shoulder in a rare show of vulnerability. Cirdan and Celebrian... Erestor and Elrond. One marriage was breaking, two were slowly being formed.
/And what of the others?/ she wondered, with the insight of an onlooker. /Cirdan has no lover save the sea and Elrond and Celebrian clearly care for each other no more... but what happens when Glorfindel crosses the Sea at last? What then?/ She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off a sudden chill. /What will you do, Erestor, when you come face to face with the love you left behind? Will you return to him? Or will you leave him, mad and mourning, on the jagged shores of his broken mind?/
*
Celeborn settled back into bed, drawing his covers over his body. Melpomaen had been put back to bed with a stern injunction to stay there until at least noon, the patients were all secure in their own rooms, and Celeborn at last had time to himself. Closing his eyes, he flung his mind out wide. /Galadriel, love, I miss you./
Far away as she was, he still felt her smile. /I miss you, too./
/What news of Valinor?/
There was a pause, as Galadriel sifted through her thoughts. /Elrond and Celebrian have parted,/ she said at last. /Our daughter drifts ever closer to the Shipwright. I think they will make each other happy./
/Cirdan is a good man,/ Celeborn allowed. /And what says Elrond of this?/
/Elrond says nothing. He watches them like a man reprieved of his execution whenever Cirdan takes her away./
/Then perhaps it is better that Celebrian leave him, before either feels obligated to renew their marriage. Aught else?/
She was silent for a long moment. /I fear Erestor and Elrond have grown too close for comfort. When he first came Erestor spent hours on the shore, watching the horizon, waiting. I am greatly afraid that he has given up on hoping for Glorfindel's coming. And Elrond does not turn aside understanding where it is offered./
Celeborn winced. /'Tis about Erestor that I wished to hear, though in truth I know not if this is good news or bad. Do you recall our little healer?/
/Melpomaen? He still refuses to sail?/
/And will until all of his patients may come with him. Aiya, Galadriel, what did we do to that poor child? To hand the care of the mad over to an empath--/
/He is a healer,/ she said firmly. /His talents were given to him to help him help others./
/But they hurt him so.../ Celeborn shook his head briskly to rid himself of such thoughts. /And he has fallen in love with Glorfindel./
Across the Sea, Galadriel sighed in sympathy. /There is nothing you can do for him, my love. Not even I can heal broken hearts./
Celeborn smiled wistfully. /I know./
She felt him slip into slumber a few minutes later, sagging back against his soft pillows. /Good night, my love,/ she whispered, and was gone.
happy now, doll?
MWAH!
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no subject
Date: 2004-02-27 09:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-04 01:45 am (UTC)Glorfindel is such a priss! I was getting all prepared to feel sorry for him, but now... well, I'm inclined towards Erestor/Elrond now. Maybe Lindir will distract the golden one from his loss...
I love this Valinorean interlude. It's very sweet, and Galadriel's the bestest. The suggested pairings are interesting... Ooh, keep writing please!
Do you want me to beta either of these extracts love? *MAUL!*
no subject
Date: 2004-03-07 10:47 am (UTC)