Aug 1 - Showtime
Title: Showtime
Author: Grundy
Rating: FR13
Crossover: LotR/Silmarillion
Disclaimer: All belongs to Whedon & Tolkien. No money is being made here, it's all in good fun.
Summary: The court of the High King meets the Slayer.
Word Count: 620
Note: Monday, Monday... hoping for something a bit more substantial tomorrow.
Anariel sighed.
She knew the Noldor loved to be formal (and difficult) but making her and her brothers do the whole royal court thing the first day in town seemed a little much even for them.
Gramma Nerdanel had been taking it pretty seriously though, so she was going along with it without further protest. For now, anyway. There could be protest later. In fact, there probably would be.
Her brother’s amusement echoed in her head. The twins thought this was almost as silly as she did, but they had slightly more practice at being well-behaved young elven lords.
Princes, apparently, Elladan informed her, his tone dancing with merriment. That’s how they’re announcing us.
The doors in front of them swung open, and all three silently assessed the room. It was more a way to gauge what they were getting into than a true threat assessment. The only danger here should be overenthusiasm. And in Anariel’s case, Morgoth’s little parting shot.
She still felt better having a weapon or two, just in case. The first rule of Slaying might be ‘don’t die’, but ‘don’t run around unarmed’ was a pretty close second.
In theory, this was supposed to be simple - walk up the aisle, formally greet their great-grandfather the High King, and affirm that they wouldn’t make political trouble in Tirion. (Everyone was quite clear that Elrond’s children would not be using words like ‘vow’, ‘promise’, or ‘swear’.)
In practice, that was a really big room and a surprisingly large number of people. And here she’d thought they’d left the crowds outside…
Fancy, was Elrohir’s comment.
Looks more like ‘stuffy’ to me, but sure, let’s go with ‘fancy’, Anariel snorted silently.
Do you suppose they dressed like this when they first arrived in Beleriand? Elladan wondered. If so, I don’t think I can blame the Lindar for some of their opinions anymore…
It looks like your boots are in fashion, Anariel observed.
The sour look that got said her brothers were still not reconciled to the offending footwear. But the California fashionista in her appreciated that even if their grandmother Anairë made questionable decisions about clothes made by Arwen, she had made sure the boys were keeping up with Tirion’s version of style.
Besides, you could never have too many shoes.
You’re not wearing shoes at all, Elrohir pointed out. Which is probably some sort of minor scandal here. Not to mention surprising given your well-known opinions on the matter.
I didn’t have shoes suitable for court, Anariel shrugged. So everyone agreed that not wearing any was less trouble than wearing everyday shoes with a court dress.
I question the Noldor’s priorities, Elladan snickered.
That’s two of us, she replied.
Three, Elrohir put in.
Besides, she added with a grin, there are two upsides to my situation. First, no shoes now means I definitely get new shoes later.
She didn’t have to look to know her brothers were not rolling their eyes only because the audience might misconstrue.
And the second? Elrohir prompted.
Any scandal about my lack of shoes will last only until they see the back of my dress.
Elladan chanced a glance at the section of garment in question.
Why, what’s wrong with it? Uncle Carnistir does fine work.
The last sentence was in a commendably neutral tone all things considered.
Yes, but it apparently doesn’t suit Noldorin notions of modesty, she told him. Thus, scandal!
The smiles that appeared on her brothers’ faces as they caught the signal to start walking had absolutely nothing to do with making an impression. At least, not to do with the twins making an impression.
They were perfectly willing to enjoy the impression their little sister was about to make.
Author: Grundy
Rating: FR13
Crossover: LotR/Silmarillion
Disclaimer: All belongs to Whedon & Tolkien. No money is being made here, it's all in good fun.
Summary: The court of the High King meets the Slayer.
Word Count: 620
Note: Monday, Monday... hoping for something a bit more substantial tomorrow.
Anariel sighed.
She knew the Noldor loved to be formal (and difficult) but making her and her brothers do the whole royal court thing the first day in town seemed a little much even for them.
Gramma Nerdanel had been taking it pretty seriously though, so she was going along with it without further protest. For now, anyway. There could be protest later. In fact, there probably would be.
Her brother’s amusement echoed in her head. The twins thought this was almost as silly as she did, but they had slightly more practice at being well-behaved young elven lords.
Princes, apparently, Elladan informed her, his tone dancing with merriment. That’s how they’re announcing us.
The doors in front of them swung open, and all three silently assessed the room. It was more a way to gauge what they were getting into than a true threat assessment. The only danger here should be overenthusiasm. And in Anariel’s case, Morgoth’s little parting shot.
She still felt better having a weapon or two, just in case. The first rule of Slaying might be ‘don’t die’, but ‘don’t run around unarmed’ was a pretty close second.
In theory, this was supposed to be simple - walk up the aisle, formally greet their great-grandfather the High King, and affirm that they wouldn’t make political trouble in Tirion. (Everyone was quite clear that Elrond’s children would not be using words like ‘vow’, ‘promise’, or ‘swear’.)
In practice, that was a really big room and a surprisingly large number of people. And here she’d thought they’d left the crowds outside…
Fancy, was Elrohir’s comment.
Looks more like ‘stuffy’ to me, but sure, let’s go with ‘fancy’, Anariel snorted silently.
Do you suppose they dressed like this when they first arrived in Beleriand? Elladan wondered. If so, I don’t think I can blame the Lindar for some of their opinions anymore…
It looks like your boots are in fashion, Anariel observed.
The sour look that got said her brothers were still not reconciled to the offending footwear. But the California fashionista in her appreciated that even if their grandmother Anairë made questionable decisions about clothes made by Arwen, she had made sure the boys were keeping up with Tirion’s version of style.
Besides, you could never have too many shoes.
You’re not wearing shoes at all, Elrohir pointed out. Which is probably some sort of minor scandal here. Not to mention surprising given your well-known opinions on the matter.
I didn’t have shoes suitable for court, Anariel shrugged. So everyone agreed that not wearing any was less trouble than wearing everyday shoes with a court dress.
I question the Noldor’s priorities, Elladan snickered.
That’s two of us, she replied.
Three, Elrohir put in.
Besides, she added with a grin, there are two upsides to my situation. First, no shoes now means I definitely get new shoes later.
She didn’t have to look to know her brothers were not rolling their eyes only because the audience might misconstrue.
And the second? Elrohir prompted.
Any scandal about my lack of shoes will last only until they see the back of my dress.
Elladan chanced a glance at the section of garment in question.
Why, what’s wrong with it? Uncle Carnistir does fine work.
The last sentence was in a commendably neutral tone all things considered.
Yes, but it apparently doesn’t suit Noldorin notions of modesty, she told him. Thus, scandal!
The smiles that appeared on her brothers’ faces as they caught the signal to start walking had absolutely nothing to do with making an impression. At least, not to do with the twins making an impression.
They were perfectly willing to enjoy the impression their little sister was about to make.