Whispers : Prompts 10, 16, 191, 192, 222
Apr. 13th, 2008 10:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zhieStory Name: Whispers
Author: Zhie
Fandom: Tolkien
C/CP: House of Finwe
Prompt Word: 222.Marriage; 16.Lies; 192.Doom; 10.Suffer; 191.Eulogy
Word Count: 125 each
Rating: G to PG on these; NC17 for series
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I'm just playing in the sandbox. I promise to return them when done, without too much sand in their boots.
MARRIAGE
“How exciting,” said Orodreth once Finrod had given his brothers the news. “We are to be uncles!”
“And he to be wed, no doubt,” added Aegnor.
The smile on Finrod’s face softened. “No.”
“What exactly do you mean, no? Love, marriage, baby... normally in that order, but once you hit the first and last the one in the middle is inevitable, and, well, done already.” said Angrod.
Finrod shook his head. “Her wish is to keep living with her parents, and I have no desire to leave here.”
“And... when the child is born?” wondered Orodreth.
“I will visit, of course, provide as I am able to.” Finrod frowned. “Why the long faces? You should be happy for me.”
Aegnor shrugged. “We are, I think.”
LIES
Caranthir pushed Curufin against the side of the cliff, hand on the hilt of his sword. “Give me one reason not to draw my blade,” he hissed. The rest of his brothers, save the youngest, stood behind him but made no move.
“I did not know! Father said the ships were empty; he said we had to burn them! We did not know Ambarto was still sleeping on one of them!”
Caranthir’s hand moved from his side to grip Curufin’s throat. Celegorm moved forward, but Maedhros blocked him. “Father lied to you, just as he lied about what the Teleri said. He knew Ambarto was there. I told him before we made camp.”
“I am sorry,” choked Curufin.
Caranthir pointed to Ambarussa. “Tell him that.”
DOOM
“What is this ‘doom’ everyone keeps worrying about? Doom, schmoom, once in Middle-earth, the Valar cannot reach us. Some curse if you cannot find the ones that have been cursed. Besides, how much sense does it make to curse us if they love us, as they claim?” Turgon’s rant had begun before they began crossing the Helcaraxe, and promised to continue long after.
“Brother, why not pause and breathe or something?” suggested Fingon.
Turgon paused with a huff, one arm around his wife, his other hand holding his walking stick. “I suppose you believe in this stupid, idiotic curse,” he said as he took a step forward, slamming down his walking stick. Everyone stopped as the sound of cracking ice tore through the frigid air.
SUFFER
I thought my release would mean my freedom, but I fear I am wrong. This torture I am put through, day after day, is no doubt my penance for abandoning the son I should have nurtured and raised myself. I would never have taught him to hate his brothers, nor to force his children to choose between himself and their mother.
Instead, here I sit, weaving their tales, their destruction, and their doom. Their suffering is my suffering; they shed tears as I shed tears for them, staining the cloth. Beautiful images of horrible, haunting events, year after year, until they are all returned, by death or by ship. All except Maglor, the soft-spoken, serious grandson I have never met and yet know so well.
EULOGY
“Might I trouble you to write something for me?” asked Gildor as he sauntered over to Erestor, who was beneath a tree reading.
“Certainly – your eulogy, perhaps?”
Gildor flinched. “Harsh, dear counselor, quite harsh.” He played it off, but the comment hit a nerve and put a smirk on Erestor’s face. “Never mind, on second thought, I want this legible.”
Before Erestor could formulate another insult, Glorfindel jogged over. He nodded at Erestor, and then gave Gildor a peck on the cheek. “Are we still having lunch?”
“Lunch, and dessert,” drawled Gildor. “Meet me in my rooms,” he said. As Glorfindel turned to go, Gildor gave him a pat on the rear, making Glorfindel blush. “Jealous?” he asked after Glorfindel left.
“Hardly,” mumbled Erestor unconvincingly.
Author: Zhie
Fandom: Tolkien
C/CP: House of Finwe
Prompt Word: 222.Marriage; 16.Lies; 192.Doom; 10.Suffer; 191.Eulogy
Word Count: 125 each
Rating: G to PG on these; NC17 for series
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I'm just playing in the sandbox. I promise to return them when done, without too much sand in their boots.
MARRIAGE
“How exciting,” said Orodreth once Finrod had given his brothers the news. “We are to be uncles!”
“And he to be wed, no doubt,” added Aegnor.
The smile on Finrod’s face softened. “No.”
“What exactly do you mean, no? Love, marriage, baby... normally in that order, but once you hit the first and last the one in the middle is inevitable, and, well, done already.” said Angrod.
Finrod shook his head. “Her wish is to keep living with her parents, and I have no desire to leave here.”
“And... when the child is born?” wondered Orodreth.
“I will visit, of course, provide as I am able to.” Finrod frowned. “Why the long faces? You should be happy for me.”
Aegnor shrugged. “We are, I think.”
LIES
Caranthir pushed Curufin against the side of the cliff, hand on the hilt of his sword. “Give me one reason not to draw my blade,” he hissed. The rest of his brothers, save the youngest, stood behind him but made no move.
“I did not know! Father said the ships were empty; he said we had to burn them! We did not know Ambarto was still sleeping on one of them!”
Caranthir’s hand moved from his side to grip Curufin’s throat. Celegorm moved forward, but Maedhros blocked him. “Father lied to you, just as he lied about what the Teleri said. He knew Ambarto was there. I told him before we made camp.”
“I am sorry,” choked Curufin.
Caranthir pointed to Ambarussa. “Tell him that.”
DOOM
“What is this ‘doom’ everyone keeps worrying about? Doom, schmoom, once in Middle-earth, the Valar cannot reach us. Some curse if you cannot find the ones that have been cursed. Besides, how much sense does it make to curse us if they love us, as they claim?” Turgon’s rant had begun before they began crossing the Helcaraxe, and promised to continue long after.
“Brother, why not pause and breathe or something?” suggested Fingon.
Turgon paused with a huff, one arm around his wife, his other hand holding his walking stick. “I suppose you believe in this stupid, idiotic curse,” he said as he took a step forward, slamming down his walking stick. Everyone stopped as the sound of cracking ice tore through the frigid air.
SUFFER
I thought my release would mean my freedom, but I fear I am wrong. This torture I am put through, day after day, is no doubt my penance for abandoning the son I should have nurtured and raised myself. I would never have taught him to hate his brothers, nor to force his children to choose between himself and their mother.
Instead, here I sit, weaving their tales, their destruction, and their doom. Their suffering is my suffering; they shed tears as I shed tears for them, staining the cloth. Beautiful images of horrible, haunting events, year after year, until they are all returned, by death or by ship. All except Maglor, the soft-spoken, serious grandson I have never met and yet know so well.
EULOGY
“Might I trouble you to write something for me?” asked Gildor as he sauntered over to Erestor, who was beneath a tree reading.
“Certainly – your eulogy, perhaps?”
Gildor flinched. “Harsh, dear counselor, quite harsh.” He played it off, but the comment hit a nerve and put a smirk on Erestor’s face. “Never mind, on second thought, I want this legible.”
Before Erestor could formulate another insult, Glorfindel jogged over. He nodded at Erestor, and then gave Gildor a peck on the cheek. “Are we still having lunch?”
“Lunch, and dessert,” drawled Gildor. “Meet me in my rooms,” he said. As Glorfindel turned to go, Gildor gave him a pat on the rear, making Glorfindel blush. “Jealous?” he asked after Glorfindel left.
“Hardly,” mumbled Erestor unconvincingly.
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Date: 2008-04-14 04:25 am (UTC)Doom - oh dear. Wonderful. Even though whenever I hear 'doom' I envision the Elrond super-doomtastic-eyebrow face, this was also a wonderful representation of doom. I laughed at the "why not pause and breathe or something" line, and then did a little gasp at the ice cracking. Curse, indeed.
As for Eulogoy - guh! I do so love jealous!Erestor. (Don't worry, sweetie. You'll get your turn, and it'll be much better and longer than Gildor's.) Once more, I don't know whether to dislike Gildor or feel indifference. Kudos to you for making me hurt my brain debating if he's so terrible!