Fic: 30 Romances
Nov. 11th, 2007 06:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
meretriculaWow, it's been a while! Is anyone from LotR even still watching this journal?
...anyways. I had a few snippets lurking on my computer, and I felt like working on them this weekend. Here are a few more themes from30_romances.
For someone who spent as much time in Elrond's library as he did, Erestor was shockingly unfond of the place. He was a quick reader, in several languages, but given the choice between a musty library and a sunny day outside... Well, for someone whose duties required almost no time spent outdoors, he was also shockingly tan. Still, no one could accuse Erestor of shirking his responsibilities, so even though he would have much rather been lying on the grass in the gardens watching clouds drift by, he was diligently checking records of bygone days for precedents in the disposal of excess harvest. It was, in his opinion, one of biggest wastes of his time he'd ever been employed in, but Elrond had asked him to do it, and his military training had left him reluctant to contradict direct orders. And Elrond knew it, too, damn his sly halfblood eyes.
There was a slight shuffling noise behind him. Erestor leaned back in his chair, curious, to look around. He'd sent his stammering little assistant off hours ago, to play with his friends (although he'd worded it a little differently; Melpomaen was distressingly formal, and easily distressed by any lack of formality). The weather was in the midst of summer's last gasp, and the heat would probably last no more than a week before autumn finally set in. All of the young elves throughout the valley should have been running wildly amuck outside today, so Erestor was startled to catch a glimpse of the junior captain of the guard lurking in the doorway to the library.
"What brings you here today, my young friend?" he called, with as much good nature as he could muster, given his irritation with his surroundings.
"Melpomaen said you were still working," Glorfindel said, moving closer. "Lindir went to Lord Elrond and petitioned for a general holiday, so, um... you can probably stop now. Everyone but the lower servants has the day off."
Erestor chuckled. "And you came to make sure I knew?"
"Well, there's no one else around," Glorfindel said, a little defensively. "And it wouldn't be fair for you to have to work when everyone else is off having fun."
"Oh, Glorfindel," Erestor sighed, half to himself. "You're so young."
"Huh?" Glorfindel blinked his big, pretty blue eyes, and made Erestor feel even more like an aging pervert than usual for enjoying his very obvious admiration.
"It's not important. Thank you for coming to fetch me. Now run along and meet up with your friends."
"Um..." Glorfindel turned the full pleading force of those innocent eyes on Erestor, and the counselor felt his resolve waver. "Would you like to come along? We packed a picnic, and there's way too much food for just the three of us," he rushed on, his cheeks going red. "So, if you'd oblige me - us - by helping us eat it..."
Erestor laughed, at Glorfindel's flustered embarrassment and his own pathetically weak will. "I would be honored. Thank you." As he followed Glorfindel out of the library, he wondered if there was really anything he would deny if Glorfindel asked. Maybe it was a good thing that Glorfindel asked for so little.
"Lurking in the shadows, old friend?" Elrond smiled as he clapped his hand on Erestor's shoulder. "The pretty maids won't deflower themselves, you know."
Erestor grinned wryly at him. "Just because you've gone and gotten yourself married doesn't mean I should have to pick up your slack in that area, friend."
"I don't suppose anyone could," Elrond mused. "I understand how you might be intimidated by my precedent."
"Mm. Keep your precedents to yourself, my lord; your wife approaches."
"My dear Erestor, alone in a corner on Midsummer's Eve?" Celebrian trilled when she came nearer. Erestor hid a wince; Celebrian was well enough, in small doses, but upon longer exposure he found her rather trying. "There are ladies aplenty in want of a partner - will you not go and dance?"
"I fear my mood is ill-suited to the occasion," Erestor apologized, for he was indeed in a somewhat black temper of late. He had been looking forward to sharing Midsummer with Glorfindel, who despite his youth was a fascinating companion, once he got over his stammering - Erestor had found that he spent more time with the young blond that anyone else, recently, but since his realization had only come after Glorfindel left for a three-month patrol, it was not a pleasing one. Glorfindel's patrol was already four days late returning, and though Erestor knew that the blond's command of his weaponry was masterful - he would hardly have been made captain if it were otherwise - he could not help worrying.
"Well, and what is better fitted to amend your ill-temper than a dance with a lovely maid?" Celebrian demanded, undeterred. "Come, you will not dissuade me. Dance with me, if no one else, and then we shall see if your mood is altered for the better."
Erestor turned to Elrond, intending to appeal for a reprieve, when a flash of golden hair caught his eye. Glorfindel stood, weary and travel-stained and still lovely, on the edge of the clearing where the elves of Rivendell held their yearly revels. "I find my mood is improved even as we speak," Erestor said, and bowed. "If you will excuse me, my lord, my lady."
He skirted the clearing swiftly, moving to catch the younger elf before he retreated to his own rooms to rest. "Glorfindel!" he called.
Glorfindel glanced over, and when he glimpsed Erestor, a smile of uncomplicated delight spread across his face. "Counselor Erestor!" he exclaimed happily.
"Welcome home," Erestor said, reaching out to take the blond's big, callused hands in his own. "Will you dance with me?"
"Counselor Erestor?"
"Hmm?" Erestor looked up from a long, toe-touching stretch, surprised. He usually had the practice salle to himself in the hours after dinner - it was why he was there. He was in excellent shape for a paper-pusher, but he had once been a frankly fearsome fighter, and the loss of his edge was a blow to his hard-won pride. During the War, he thought, turning his fierce glare on his toes, a simple stretch like this would not have been a strain. "Oh, hello, Glorfindel. Do you need the salle?"
He could hear the blond shuffling his feet, but kept his eyes down as he drew himself fluidly upwards and then sank back down into a full split. He could feel his thigh muscles trembling in protest, but waited through the ache with an impassive expression. He was hardly going to show weakness in front of a younger, much less experienced warrior. Erestor might not be a fighter anymore, but he still had his reputation, and his pride.
"May I ask you a question?" Glorfindel blurted out at last, settling himself cross-legged beside Erestor.
"I suppose." Erestor leaned forward again, wrapping a hand around his instep. "How can I assist you?"
Glorfindel was twisting his hands nervously in his lap - Erestor could just see the motion out of the corner of his eye. "You were a fighter, before you came to Rivendell," he said. Erestor waited, silently, for the question. It came in an explosion of breath and emotion. "How could you give that up? To sit inside all day, holding a quill instead of a sword, to - to practice in the dark, as if you were ashamed to let anyone see you, what you've become!"
The question stung, but less than it could have. Erestor had asked himself it almost every day for centuries, after all. "I didn't entirely realize what would happen, I think, at the time," he replied slowly. "I was Elrond's second in the War, so I went where he went, and he came here. Playing with words, fighting with quills - it isn't what I'm best at. It isn't what I love. But there was no one better suited that Elrond could trust, so that was what I did. And then there was no one who knew enough to replace me. There's little call for what I was then - we need no midnight raids, no assassinations or sabotage - and I am necessary as I am. This isn't the work I chose, but it's good work, needed work, all the same." He paused thoughtfully, and added, "I'm not ashamed of what I've become. I wish it could have been someone else, maybe, but I have respect for what I am."
"Then why are you practicing here, now, when no one can see you?" Glorfindel demanded.
Erestor laughed bitterly. "I was once the yardstick trainees were held to in Lindon, did you know that? Almost as fast as Erestor, almost as accurate, almost as dangerous. Would you want to give that up?"
"Why would you have to?" Glorfindel caught Erestor's free hand and pulled him slowly back up. "We all - Erestor, we're all proud of what you've become, those of us who understand what you gave up. I wish you could respect us enough to see that." He looked Erestor in the eye, sadly, then rose and left the salle. It seemed darker, somehow, once he was gone.
*
Erestor hesitated in the doorway of the practice salle the next morning, watching as Glorfindel circled a pair of practicing guardsmen. "You're dropping your elbow, Eldanath!" he called over the clack of wooden weaponry. "And Lissaer, stop hesitating! If he doesn't block you he deserves the bruise!"
It all felt deeply familiar in a way that the library, with the musty smell of books and still air, would never quite become. That bone-deep comfort propelled Erestor over the threshold to stand behind Glorfindel. "Perhaps you could suggest a sparring partner for me?" he murmured.
Glorfindel jumped, spun, and stopped dead. Before Erestor could wonder if he had misjudged Glorfindel's end the night before, an enormous grin spread across the blond's face. "I would be happy to," he said. "Eldanath, Lissaer, you're on your own!" he added more loudly.
"You want to practice with an old creaky creature like me?" Erestor asked, amused, when he realized that Glorfindel was tugging him into their own practice circle.
"I'm sure you can still show me a thing or two." Glorfindel tossed his long golden braid over his shoulder, and his smile, impossibly, grew wider. "In fact, I'm counting on it."
who knows, maybe I'll even finish these themes someday! I'm officially over a quarter done. would people be interested in seeing some bits from theme sets that aren't going to be finished? I don't want to bore anyone or leave them on untenable cliff-hangers. Not that I really write untenable cliff-hangers, but you know what I mean.
...anyways. I had a few snippets lurking on my computer, and I felt like working on them this weekend. Here are a few more themes from
30_romances. For someone who spent as much time in Elrond's library as he did, Erestor was shockingly unfond of the place. He was a quick reader, in several languages, but given the choice between a musty library and a sunny day outside... Well, for someone whose duties required almost no time spent outdoors, he was also shockingly tan. Still, no one could accuse Erestor of shirking his responsibilities, so even though he would have much rather been lying on the grass in the gardens watching clouds drift by, he was diligently checking records of bygone days for precedents in the disposal of excess harvest. It was, in his opinion, one of biggest wastes of his time he'd ever been employed in, but Elrond had asked him to do it, and his military training had left him reluctant to contradict direct orders. And Elrond knew it, too, damn his sly halfblood eyes.
There was a slight shuffling noise behind him. Erestor leaned back in his chair, curious, to look around. He'd sent his stammering little assistant off hours ago, to play with his friends (although he'd worded it a little differently; Melpomaen was distressingly formal, and easily distressed by any lack of formality). The weather was in the midst of summer's last gasp, and the heat would probably last no more than a week before autumn finally set in. All of the young elves throughout the valley should have been running wildly amuck outside today, so Erestor was startled to catch a glimpse of the junior captain of the guard lurking in the doorway to the library.
"What brings you here today, my young friend?" he called, with as much good nature as he could muster, given his irritation with his surroundings.
"Melpomaen said you were still working," Glorfindel said, moving closer. "Lindir went to Lord Elrond and petitioned for a general holiday, so, um... you can probably stop now. Everyone but the lower servants has the day off."
Erestor chuckled. "And you came to make sure I knew?"
"Well, there's no one else around," Glorfindel said, a little defensively. "And it wouldn't be fair for you to have to work when everyone else is off having fun."
"Oh, Glorfindel," Erestor sighed, half to himself. "You're so young."
"Huh?" Glorfindel blinked his big, pretty blue eyes, and made Erestor feel even more like an aging pervert than usual for enjoying his very obvious admiration.
"It's not important. Thank you for coming to fetch me. Now run along and meet up with your friends."
"Um..." Glorfindel turned the full pleading force of those innocent eyes on Erestor, and the counselor felt his resolve waver. "Would you like to come along? We packed a picnic, and there's way too much food for just the three of us," he rushed on, his cheeks going red. "So, if you'd oblige me - us - by helping us eat it..."
Erestor laughed, at Glorfindel's flustered embarrassment and his own pathetically weak will. "I would be honored. Thank you." As he followed Glorfindel out of the library, he wondered if there was really anything he would deny if Glorfindel asked. Maybe it was a good thing that Glorfindel asked for so little.
"Lurking in the shadows, old friend?" Elrond smiled as he clapped his hand on Erestor's shoulder. "The pretty maids won't deflower themselves, you know."
Erestor grinned wryly at him. "Just because you've gone and gotten yourself married doesn't mean I should have to pick up your slack in that area, friend."
"I don't suppose anyone could," Elrond mused. "I understand how you might be intimidated by my precedent."
"Mm. Keep your precedents to yourself, my lord; your wife approaches."
"My dear Erestor, alone in a corner on Midsummer's Eve?" Celebrian trilled when she came nearer. Erestor hid a wince; Celebrian was well enough, in small doses, but upon longer exposure he found her rather trying. "There are ladies aplenty in want of a partner - will you not go and dance?"
"I fear my mood is ill-suited to the occasion," Erestor apologized, for he was indeed in a somewhat black temper of late. He had been looking forward to sharing Midsummer with Glorfindel, who despite his youth was a fascinating companion, once he got over his stammering - Erestor had found that he spent more time with the young blond that anyone else, recently, but since his realization had only come after Glorfindel left for a three-month patrol, it was not a pleasing one. Glorfindel's patrol was already four days late returning, and though Erestor knew that the blond's command of his weaponry was masterful - he would hardly have been made captain if it were otherwise - he could not help worrying.
"Well, and what is better fitted to amend your ill-temper than a dance with a lovely maid?" Celebrian demanded, undeterred. "Come, you will not dissuade me. Dance with me, if no one else, and then we shall see if your mood is altered for the better."
Erestor turned to Elrond, intending to appeal for a reprieve, when a flash of golden hair caught his eye. Glorfindel stood, weary and travel-stained and still lovely, on the edge of the clearing where the elves of Rivendell held their yearly revels. "I find my mood is improved even as we speak," Erestor said, and bowed. "If you will excuse me, my lord, my lady."
He skirted the clearing swiftly, moving to catch the younger elf before he retreated to his own rooms to rest. "Glorfindel!" he called.
Glorfindel glanced over, and when he glimpsed Erestor, a smile of uncomplicated delight spread across his face. "Counselor Erestor!" he exclaimed happily.
"Welcome home," Erestor said, reaching out to take the blond's big, callused hands in his own. "Will you dance with me?"
"Counselor Erestor?"
"Hmm?" Erestor looked up from a long, toe-touching stretch, surprised. He usually had the practice salle to himself in the hours after dinner - it was why he was there. He was in excellent shape for a paper-pusher, but he had once been a frankly fearsome fighter, and the loss of his edge was a blow to his hard-won pride. During the War, he thought, turning his fierce glare on his toes, a simple stretch like this would not have been a strain. "Oh, hello, Glorfindel. Do you need the salle?"
He could hear the blond shuffling his feet, but kept his eyes down as he drew himself fluidly upwards and then sank back down into a full split. He could feel his thigh muscles trembling in protest, but waited through the ache with an impassive expression. He was hardly going to show weakness in front of a younger, much less experienced warrior. Erestor might not be a fighter anymore, but he still had his reputation, and his pride.
"May I ask you a question?" Glorfindel blurted out at last, settling himself cross-legged beside Erestor.
"I suppose." Erestor leaned forward again, wrapping a hand around his instep. "How can I assist you?"
Glorfindel was twisting his hands nervously in his lap - Erestor could just see the motion out of the corner of his eye. "You were a fighter, before you came to Rivendell," he said. Erestor waited, silently, for the question. It came in an explosion of breath and emotion. "How could you give that up? To sit inside all day, holding a quill instead of a sword, to - to practice in the dark, as if you were ashamed to let anyone see you, what you've become!"
The question stung, but less than it could have. Erestor had asked himself it almost every day for centuries, after all. "I didn't entirely realize what would happen, I think, at the time," he replied slowly. "I was Elrond's second in the War, so I went where he went, and he came here. Playing with words, fighting with quills - it isn't what I'm best at. It isn't what I love. But there was no one better suited that Elrond could trust, so that was what I did. And then there was no one who knew enough to replace me. There's little call for what I was then - we need no midnight raids, no assassinations or sabotage - and I am necessary as I am. This isn't the work I chose, but it's good work, needed work, all the same." He paused thoughtfully, and added, "I'm not ashamed of what I've become. I wish it could have been someone else, maybe, but I have respect for what I am."
"Then why are you practicing here, now, when no one can see you?" Glorfindel demanded.
Erestor laughed bitterly. "I was once the yardstick trainees were held to in Lindon, did you know that? Almost as fast as Erestor, almost as accurate, almost as dangerous. Would you want to give that up?"
"Why would you have to?" Glorfindel caught Erestor's free hand and pulled him slowly back up. "We all - Erestor, we're all proud of what you've become, those of us who understand what you gave up. I wish you could respect us enough to see that." He looked Erestor in the eye, sadly, then rose and left the salle. It seemed darker, somehow, once he was gone.
*
Erestor hesitated in the doorway of the practice salle the next morning, watching as Glorfindel circled a pair of practicing guardsmen. "You're dropping your elbow, Eldanath!" he called over the clack of wooden weaponry. "And Lissaer, stop hesitating! If he doesn't block you he deserves the bruise!"
It all felt deeply familiar in a way that the library, with the musty smell of books and still air, would never quite become. That bone-deep comfort propelled Erestor over the threshold to stand behind Glorfindel. "Perhaps you could suggest a sparring partner for me?" he murmured.
Glorfindel jumped, spun, and stopped dead. Before Erestor could wonder if he had misjudged Glorfindel's end the night before, an enormous grin spread across the blond's face. "I would be happy to," he said. "Eldanath, Lissaer, you're on your own!" he added more loudly.
"You want to practice with an old creaky creature like me?" Erestor asked, amused, when he realized that Glorfindel was tugging him into their own practice circle.
"I'm sure you can still show me a thing or two." Glorfindel tossed his long golden braid over his shoulder, and his smile, impossibly, grew wider. "In fact, I'm counting on it."
who knows, maybe I'll even finish these themes someday! I'm officially over a quarter done. would people be interested in seeing some bits from theme sets that aren't going to be finished? I don't want to bore anyone or leave them on untenable cliff-hangers. Not that I really write untenable cliff-hangers, but you know what I mean.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-11-12 09:46 am (UTC)Lovely snippets and lovely writing.
Hugs Binky x x x
no subject
Date: 2007-11-12 02:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-12 06:54 pm (UTC)damn you for distracting me from my homework with your pretty pretty elves o.-
but I luv you anyways ~♥
no subject
Date: 2007-11-12 07:15 pm (UTC)~snuggles~ love you too!
no subject
Date: 2007-11-12 07:16 pm (UTC)yey~~~~~~ ^-^
another LotR fan
Date: 2010-01-14 02:50 am (UTC)Re: another LotR fan
Date: 2010-01-14 03:00 am (UTC)Re: another LotR fan
Date: 2010-01-14 03:04 am (UTC)Re: another LotR fan
Date: 2010-01-14 03:08 am (UTC)(though you don't appear to have found the two longer fics, for what it's worth. or maybe you have, but just in case, Partita No. 2 in G Minor (http://meretricula.livejournal.com/45109.html) and
Orchestral Suite No. 1 (http://meretricula.livejournal.com/46731.html).)