![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
B2MEM... 2 more (16b and 20; 27 on its way)
Two ficlets, each one about a realm's chief warrior, a chief councilor, and somebody else along for the ride
FIC: B2MEM-16b-Indignation
Title: Indignation
Author: Zhie
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Characters: Saeros, Mablung
Archive: http://phoenix.zhie.us
Summary: Response to B2MEM Prompt #16b – pushed over the limit
Indignation
“What are you doing in here?”
Saeros turned abruptly around, slipping the dagger he had been inspecting into his sleeve. His hands were joined together, the folds of fabric concealing the weapon and his sweaty palms. “Inventory,” answered the councilor in a calm voice, though he had to speak slow and softly in order to be understood.
“Bullshit,” replied Mablung. He took note of the jut that was out of place in the dark fabric; a blade of some sort, though there was no danger. Not yet, and certainly, no danger to him. “How is your jaw?”
A mere shrug, and Saeros shifted his hand in order to get a better grip on the dart he held.
“Why are you really here?” questioned Mablung.
Saeros turned away and walked further into the armory. “I came to retrieve my sword and shield. One never knows when an attack might occur, and I wish to be prepared.”
“If an attack occurs on Menegroth, you would not be in the forefront of the battle.” Mablung kept on Saeros’ heels, following him through the aisles of bows and arrows and weaponry, meticulously kept in perfect condition should a battle find its way within the girdle. As Saeros drew one of his hands from the sleeve of his robe and reached for a shield hanging upon the wall, Mablung set his hand heavily on his friend’s shoulder and forced him to turn around. “Leave it be.”
“If I want my shield, I will take it with me,” said Saeros angrily.
“You know what I am talking about. Leave the boy alone,” whispered Mablung.
Saeros narrowed his eyes and sneered. “The cub must be taught a lesson.”
“Not by you.” Mablung shook his head. “You were not appointed by luck, Saeros, so I know you can listen to reason and understand if you want to. He meant no offense to you, but you took it as such. You pushed and pushed and pushed—did you expect him not to push back?”
“He pushed too far,” hissed Saeros.
Mablung sighed. “He sat in your chair; you insult him, his mother, and his entire race. If it had been me and it was my mother you insulted, you would have left with more than a hurt mouth.”
“I fought with words; he took it to blows. I intend to end it.” Saeros turned back to his shield and swiftly took it from the wall, and gathered up his sword as well. As he walked past Mablung, he purposely knocked his shoulder against the captain, but Mablung stood his ground and did not follow.
“Take only what is yours Saeros,” warned Mablung as the councilor reached the door.
Saeros looked over his shoulder. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Leave the dagger,” said Mablung with a sigh, his back to Saeros. “If you are going to spill blood, do it with your own weapons, not mine.” The blade dropped with a heavy thud onto the floor. “Maybe you will change your mind after you sleep on it,” said Mablung hopefully.
“Doubtful.”
“Then it was a pleasure knowing you,” said Mablung with complete sincerity.
Saeros stopped and turned back, and saw Mablung was watching him now. “You trained me in combat,” he reminded the captain. “Have you so little faith in me?”
“Against most, no,” said Mablung. “But he has spent the last few years with Beleg. I may command a larger army than Beleg and be a better leader, but in combat against him I would fall.”
“You think I shall fall against this arrogant man-child?”
“I should hope not,” admitted Mablung, “but I should think so.”
FIC: B2MEM-20-Change of Plans
Title: Change of Plans
Author: Zhie
Rating: PG (language)
Characters: Lindir, Glorfindel, Erestor
Archive: http://phoenix.zhie.us
Summary: Response to B2MEM Prompt #20 - Unprepared
Change of Plans
“There you are! You are late.”
Glorfindel adopted a look of confusion. “What am I late for?”
“Some presentation thing,” replied Lindir. “Lord Elrond sent me to find you; he ran out of pages and maids already this morning. I never thought he would have to many people attending this little conference thing of his.”
“Five hundred people over eight days does not a little conference make,” grumbled Glorfindel, who had come out to the barracks specifically to be away from the overly crowded house.
Lindir tapped his foot impatiently – and precisely metronomical. “The master of the house has requested I bring you back, and I am not one to disappoint.”
Glorfindel looked up again, now frustrated. “I have no idea what he expects me to talk about. Every time I sat down to write that stupid speech, I was interrupted by more security requests. Fulfilling requests and keeping peace between the members of these groups has not been an easy task.”
“Can you not adlib?” suggested Lindir.
“Do I look like Master Erestor?” retorted Glorfindel angrily.
Lindir lightly rocked a step back toward the door. “Pardon. I just thought...
“I do not suppose it would do any good if you went back in and told him I am sick.”
“I doubt he would believe me,” Lindir said. “Besides, the trouble with having a lord who is a healer is—“
“Oh, damn, I forgot about that.” Glorfindel rubbed his chin. “What about Master Erestor?”
“What about him?”
“Well, he can adlib,” said Glorfindel. “I am sure he could easily talk about whatever I was supposed to talk about.”
Lindir shook his head. “He is giving a lecture in the garden at the same time you are scheduled to speak in the Hall of Fire.”
Glorfindel frowned. “What about you?”
“I have just been directing lost guests.”
“How would you like to give a speech instead?” asked Glorfindel as he stood up and came around from behind his desk.
“Pardon? How am I to give your speech, when you do not even know the topic?” wondered Lindir.
“Because you can adlib,” noted Glorfindel. “And... blond, about my height...”
“I am a little taller, actually,” Lindir tried to say in the nicest way possible.
“Good. They will see you better on the platform. I am sure I have an extra uniform that will fit you- a guardian cloak, if nothing else,” he said more to himself as he started to dig through a wooden chest in the corner.
Mildly concerned, Lindir joined Glorfindel. “You cannot be serious, Lord Glorfindel. How am I to impersonate you? Do you not think people will notice?”
“Easy. You are a performer. You should be used to this sort of thing. Besides, most of the people you will be speaking to have never seen me – and if they have, it was in battle, and the great thing about leading is they only see the back of your head, so getting an impersonator is not that difficult.” Glorfindel pulled a tunic from the chest. It was slightly worn, but embroidered with the crest of Rivendell. “Here. Try this on.”
Lindir took the garment, but continued to argue. “To begin with, I am a musician, not an actor. The two are not interchangeable. And secondly,” he said after pulling the tunic over his head, “Lord Elrond will not be very happy if he finds out about this.”
“Then we make a pact now not to speak to Elrond about this.” Glorfindel draped a cloak around Lindir’s shoulders. “Very nice. You nearly could pass for me,” he mused.
“What do you want me to talk about?” asked Lindir.
Glorfindel shrugged. “Whatever you want. Just make me look good.”
---
Upon Lindir’s insistence, Glorfindel came with him to the house. He had wrapped a dull cloak around him to hide his fine clothing, so as not to give away his true identity, and slipped into the back row of the room when they arrived.
Lindir, for all his complaining along the way that he was not an actor, proved quite good at mimicking Glorfindel’s mannerisms and voice. With the exception of a few Elves who knew either Lindir or Glorfindel well enough to be well aware of the switch, Lindir managed to fool the audience. Most impressed was Glorfindel, who did not expect that the minstrel would know so much about his life to have been able to pull off the performance so well.
There was a slight rustle of fabric as someone sat down beside Glorfindel a few minutes into Lindir’s speech. The warrior turned his head and was shocked to see that Erestor had joined the audience.
Erestor did a double take between the stage and Glorfindel, and narrowed his eyes slightly. “You forgot to write your speech,” he accused in Quenya.
Glorfindel smiled ruefully and shrugged. “Nice weather we are having,” he answered back in the ancient language.
With a sigh, Erestor rubbed his forehead and looked back to the stage. After a few minutes, he leaned toward Glorfindel and said, “He is doing quite well. Is this replacement permanent or temporary?”
“That hurt, councilor,” replied Glorfindel, still in Quenya. “If Elrond had not loaded me down with so much work, I certainly would have had the time—“
“I know you. You still would have forgotten.”
“No.”
“Then you would have pretended to have forgotten.”
“...Maybe.” Glorfindel suddenly did a double take of his own. “I thought you were supposed to be giving a speech of your own right now.”
“I was. No one showed up.”
“No one?”
“Well, Lindir did promise me earlier he would be there, but he did not show up,” explained Erestor. “I suppose I can forgive him, though, he seems to have found something more important to do.”
“Did you work a long time on your presentation?”
Erestor shrugged as if it was no big deal but then replied, “A couple of weeks, some late nights here and there... I can give it some other time.”
“If that is ‘Glorfindel’ up there,” said the Elf seated next to Erestor, “that must make me Lindir... and I apologize completely for forgetting to come and listen to your speech. However, if we discretely leave this increasingly crowded room, and retire to the gardens, I would be more than happy to listen to your speech.”
“Really?” Erestor started to stand up. “You have no idea what it is even about.”
“True, but this lecture is really boring me.”
Erestor blinked as they shuffled from the room – to the delight of many audience members in their vicinity who were becoming more annoyed by the minute at their whisperings during the talk. “His entire speech so far has been all about you.”
“I know,” said Glorfindel as they maneuvered around the throng of people to get to the doors. “What a dull character this Glorfindel fellow is. I would much rather hear what Master Erestor has to say. Good speaker, though,” he added with a grin.
Erestor chuckled and led the way to the gardens.
FIC: B2MEM-16b-Indignation
Title: Indignation
Author: Zhie
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Characters: Saeros, Mablung
Archive: http://phoenix.zhie.us
Summary: Response to B2MEM Prompt #16b – pushed over the limit
Indignation
“What are you doing in here?”
Saeros turned abruptly around, slipping the dagger he had been inspecting into his sleeve. His hands were joined together, the folds of fabric concealing the weapon and his sweaty palms. “Inventory,” answered the councilor in a calm voice, though he had to speak slow and softly in order to be understood.
“Bullshit,” replied Mablung. He took note of the jut that was out of place in the dark fabric; a blade of some sort, though there was no danger. Not yet, and certainly, no danger to him. “How is your jaw?”
A mere shrug, and Saeros shifted his hand in order to get a better grip on the dart he held.
“Why are you really here?” questioned Mablung.
Saeros turned away and walked further into the armory. “I came to retrieve my sword and shield. One never knows when an attack might occur, and I wish to be prepared.”
“If an attack occurs on Menegroth, you would not be in the forefront of the battle.” Mablung kept on Saeros’ heels, following him through the aisles of bows and arrows and weaponry, meticulously kept in perfect condition should a battle find its way within the girdle. As Saeros drew one of his hands from the sleeve of his robe and reached for a shield hanging upon the wall, Mablung set his hand heavily on his friend’s shoulder and forced him to turn around. “Leave it be.”
“If I want my shield, I will take it with me,” said Saeros angrily.
“You know what I am talking about. Leave the boy alone,” whispered Mablung.
Saeros narrowed his eyes and sneered. “The cub must be taught a lesson.”
“Not by you.” Mablung shook his head. “You were not appointed by luck, Saeros, so I know you can listen to reason and understand if you want to. He meant no offense to you, but you took it as such. You pushed and pushed and pushed—did you expect him not to push back?”
“He pushed too far,” hissed Saeros.
Mablung sighed. “He sat in your chair; you insult him, his mother, and his entire race. If it had been me and it was my mother you insulted, you would have left with more than a hurt mouth.”
“I fought with words; he took it to blows. I intend to end it.” Saeros turned back to his shield and swiftly took it from the wall, and gathered up his sword as well. As he walked past Mablung, he purposely knocked his shoulder against the captain, but Mablung stood his ground and did not follow.
“Take only what is yours Saeros,” warned Mablung as the councilor reached the door.
Saeros looked over his shoulder. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Leave the dagger,” said Mablung with a sigh, his back to Saeros. “If you are going to spill blood, do it with your own weapons, not mine.” The blade dropped with a heavy thud onto the floor. “Maybe you will change your mind after you sleep on it,” said Mablung hopefully.
“Doubtful.”
“Then it was a pleasure knowing you,” said Mablung with complete sincerity.
Saeros stopped and turned back, and saw Mablung was watching him now. “You trained me in combat,” he reminded the captain. “Have you so little faith in me?”
“Against most, no,” said Mablung. “But he has spent the last few years with Beleg. I may command a larger army than Beleg and be a better leader, but in combat against him I would fall.”
“You think I shall fall against this arrogant man-child?”
“I should hope not,” admitted Mablung, “but I should think so.”
FIC: B2MEM-20-Change of Plans
Title: Change of Plans
Author: Zhie
Rating: PG (language)
Characters: Lindir, Glorfindel, Erestor
Archive: http://phoenix.zhie.us
Summary: Response to B2MEM Prompt #20 - Unprepared
Change of Plans
“There you are! You are late.”
Glorfindel adopted a look of confusion. “What am I late for?”
“Some presentation thing,” replied Lindir. “Lord Elrond sent me to find you; he ran out of pages and maids already this morning. I never thought he would have to many people attending this little conference thing of his.”
“Five hundred people over eight days does not a little conference make,” grumbled Glorfindel, who had come out to the barracks specifically to be away from the overly crowded house.
Lindir tapped his foot impatiently – and precisely metronomical. “The master of the house has requested I bring you back, and I am not one to disappoint.”
Glorfindel looked up again, now frustrated. “I have no idea what he expects me to talk about. Every time I sat down to write that stupid speech, I was interrupted by more security requests. Fulfilling requests and keeping peace between the members of these groups has not been an easy task.”
“Can you not adlib?” suggested Lindir.
“Do I look like Master Erestor?” retorted Glorfindel angrily.
Lindir lightly rocked a step back toward the door. “Pardon. I just thought...
“I do not suppose it would do any good if you went back in and told him I am sick.”
“I doubt he would believe me,” Lindir said. “Besides, the trouble with having a lord who is a healer is—“
“Oh, damn, I forgot about that.” Glorfindel rubbed his chin. “What about Master Erestor?”
“What about him?”
“Well, he can adlib,” said Glorfindel. “I am sure he could easily talk about whatever I was supposed to talk about.”
Lindir shook his head. “He is giving a lecture in the garden at the same time you are scheduled to speak in the Hall of Fire.”
Glorfindel frowned. “What about you?”
“I have just been directing lost guests.”
“How would you like to give a speech instead?” asked Glorfindel as he stood up and came around from behind his desk.
“Pardon? How am I to give your speech, when you do not even know the topic?” wondered Lindir.
“Because you can adlib,” noted Glorfindel. “And... blond, about my height...”
“I am a little taller, actually,” Lindir tried to say in the nicest way possible.
“Good. They will see you better on the platform. I am sure I have an extra uniform that will fit you- a guardian cloak, if nothing else,” he said more to himself as he started to dig through a wooden chest in the corner.
Mildly concerned, Lindir joined Glorfindel. “You cannot be serious, Lord Glorfindel. How am I to impersonate you? Do you not think people will notice?”
“Easy. You are a performer. You should be used to this sort of thing. Besides, most of the people you will be speaking to have never seen me – and if they have, it was in battle, and the great thing about leading is they only see the back of your head, so getting an impersonator is not that difficult.” Glorfindel pulled a tunic from the chest. It was slightly worn, but embroidered with the crest of Rivendell. “Here. Try this on.”
Lindir took the garment, but continued to argue. “To begin with, I am a musician, not an actor. The two are not interchangeable. And secondly,” he said after pulling the tunic over his head, “Lord Elrond will not be very happy if he finds out about this.”
“Then we make a pact now not to speak to Elrond about this.” Glorfindel draped a cloak around Lindir’s shoulders. “Very nice. You nearly could pass for me,” he mused.
“What do you want me to talk about?” asked Lindir.
Glorfindel shrugged. “Whatever you want. Just make me look good.”
---
Upon Lindir’s insistence, Glorfindel came with him to the house. He had wrapped a dull cloak around him to hide his fine clothing, so as not to give away his true identity, and slipped into the back row of the room when they arrived.
Lindir, for all his complaining along the way that he was not an actor, proved quite good at mimicking Glorfindel’s mannerisms and voice. With the exception of a few Elves who knew either Lindir or Glorfindel well enough to be well aware of the switch, Lindir managed to fool the audience. Most impressed was Glorfindel, who did not expect that the minstrel would know so much about his life to have been able to pull off the performance so well.
There was a slight rustle of fabric as someone sat down beside Glorfindel a few minutes into Lindir’s speech. The warrior turned his head and was shocked to see that Erestor had joined the audience.
Erestor did a double take between the stage and Glorfindel, and narrowed his eyes slightly. “You forgot to write your speech,” he accused in Quenya.
Glorfindel smiled ruefully and shrugged. “Nice weather we are having,” he answered back in the ancient language.
With a sigh, Erestor rubbed his forehead and looked back to the stage. After a few minutes, he leaned toward Glorfindel and said, “He is doing quite well. Is this replacement permanent or temporary?”
“That hurt, councilor,” replied Glorfindel, still in Quenya. “If Elrond had not loaded me down with so much work, I certainly would have had the time—“
“I know you. You still would have forgotten.”
“No.”
“Then you would have pretended to have forgotten.”
“...Maybe.” Glorfindel suddenly did a double take of his own. “I thought you were supposed to be giving a speech of your own right now.”
“I was. No one showed up.”
“No one?”
“Well, Lindir did promise me earlier he would be there, but he did not show up,” explained Erestor. “I suppose I can forgive him, though, he seems to have found something more important to do.”
“Did you work a long time on your presentation?”
Erestor shrugged as if it was no big deal but then replied, “A couple of weeks, some late nights here and there... I can give it some other time.”
“If that is ‘Glorfindel’ up there,” said the Elf seated next to Erestor, “that must make me Lindir... and I apologize completely for forgetting to come and listen to your speech. However, if we discretely leave this increasingly crowded room, and retire to the gardens, I would be more than happy to listen to your speech.”
“Really?” Erestor started to stand up. “You have no idea what it is even about.”
“True, but this lecture is really boring me.”
Erestor blinked as they shuffled from the room – to the delight of many audience members in their vicinity who were becoming more annoyed by the minute at their whisperings during the talk. “His entire speech so far has been all about you.”
“I know,” said Glorfindel as they maneuvered around the throng of people to get to the doors. “What a dull character this Glorfindel fellow is. I would much rather hear what Master Erestor has to say. Good speaker, though,” he added with a grin.
Erestor chuckled and led the way to the gardens.
no subject
no subject