Aug 15 - A Quiet Breakfast
Title: A Quiet Breakfast
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: Buffy's having an excellent morning, and breakfast is no exception.
Word Count: 1250
Note: The original idea was to get to the sparring part, but I've run out of time...
“I thought you said you were just going to find the kitchens and grab something for breakfast,” Elladan greeted her when she finally appeared in the gardens a good two hours after she’d left her room.
“That was what I meant to do,” Anariel replied. “How was I supposed to know it wouldn’t be that simple?”
“You didn’t find the kitchens?” Elrohir asked skeptically.
She rolled her eyes.
“No, I wandered the corridors until the food just appeared out of thin air, as it does here in Aman,” she said. “Of course I found the kitchens. But I wasn’t expecting Anairon to be there, or for the Noldorin idea of ‘breakfast’ to be so…”
“Elaborate?” Elladan offered wryly. “We had breakfast here yesterday. Some of us even had breakfast more than once.”
“Yeah,” she sighed, looking down at the entire basket Anairon had sent her off with before heading up to his parents’ rooms with another one.
Breakfast at Grandmother Nerdanel’s had been a good deal simpler. Eggs, bacon, toast, berries.
Anairon had already had muffins in the oven - apparently Tinu had already given him an extensive rundown on all her siblings’ favorites, but Anariel’s in particular. But he’d also been working on what apparently was normal breakfast fare here, which consisted of a variety of fruits, multiple types of bread or savoury pastry, various cured meats, soft-cooked eggs, and individual-sized fritattas. So she had all that and the muffins. And several types of jam that had been hoarded expressly for her and her brothers.
It was a little overwhelming, and that was before you considered this was the morning after what had appeared to her to be a pretty fancy feast. Even to someone who ate like a Slayer.
“I think they knew it wouldn’t be just you eating,” Elrohir assured her as he relieved her of the basket. “Cheer up, we found Grandfather. And Uncle Eöl.”
Celeborn and Eöl were deep in conversation, and to all appearances didn’t notice the three of them setting up their breakfast picnic. None of the children of Elrond were fooled.
Anariel took the opportunity to pay more attention to Maeglin’s dad. His eyes were a rich brown, and his hair dark. At first glance, one might miss the family resemblance to silver-haired, grey-eyed Celeborn, but if you looked at the shape of their faces, the relationship was there to see.
She wasn’t at all surprised when he beat Grandfather to the punch, ‘noticing’ them right when breakfast was all set and they were on the point of digging in without the older generation.
“So this is the troublemaker?” Eöl asked, giving Anariel a glance that tried to be evaluating.
Really, they both knew perfectly well he’d already gotten a good look at her yesterday, and probably heard plenty from Grandfather, not to mention been hearing from Grandmother (both directly and via Aunt Irissë) for years.
“I have no idea what you mean, that must be the hunger talking,” she replied cheerfully. “Dig in, I have no idea what half of this is.”
“And yet you’re eating it all the same?” Uncle Eöl asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you said this one was the least Noldorin.”
Her brothers snickered.
“You’re eating it too, you goofs,” she pointed out to the twins. “And yes, I’m eating it. Pretty sure Anairon isn’t going to poison me.”
“If he wanted to, he’s certainly going about it the right way,” Elrohir noted, eying the muffins. “Learned your favorite foods and everything.”
“Yes,” Anariel sniffed, “because that is definitely not that weird bread the Gondorians haven’t made in at least three long-years I see there and that has nothing whatsoever to do with you liking it.”
“Ah, the things I can look forward to when Mírimë is older,” Eöl nodded.
“What, Anairon spoiling her shamelessly?” Grandfather asked. “I thought that was already happening.”
“I sure hope so,” Anariel said around a mouthful of the egg toast.
Actually, talking might be overrated for a while. Her mouth had better things to do. Tinu’s best friend knew his food!
Luckily for you none of the Noldorin manners mavens are out here to scold us for not speaking aloud, Eöl chuckled, helping himself to one of the pastries she didn’t recognize.
That’s a thing? she asked.
The only time any child of Elrond and Celebrían had ever worried about osanwë conversation was if they thought they were at risk of being overheard by someone who wasn’t meant to be part of it.
It’s considered rude, Grandfather confirmed.
She got the distinct impression both the older elves were trying not to laugh and her and her brother’s collective reaction to that.
I don’t know, our royal Noldorin grandfathers didn’t object to making use of it at table, Elrohir said. Is that because they have been waiting to see how well we can keep our composure in the face of their misbehavior, or because Tinu already has them trained?
Both Celeborn and Eöl laughed.
“They may not say anything, but your grandmothers will. And your Aunt Findis may also,” Grandfather told them.
Aunt Findis? Really? Anariel asked in surprise. She didn’t seen like a stickler for manners.
“She may have made allowances, considering you were in Lórien,” Grandfather pointed out. “I am told healers often do, at least when you are not driving them to distraction.”
“Where is she, anyway?” Anariel asked, regretting that the excellent egg toast was all gone. “Shouldn’t she be here too? And…Aunt Lalwen?”
“She’s Aunt Írimë when she’s in Tirion,” Elladan said. “Which is the extent of what I’ve heard of her, before you ask.”
“Findis and Elemmírë will probably join those coming from Valimar for the festival of Vana next month,” Eöl told them. “I have not heard anything about Lalwen.”
“What about Glorfindel? And Cali and Tas?” Elrohir asked. “We’ve heard nothing of them either.”
“I imagine they’re in Gondolin,” Grandfather said carefully.
Anariel decided this was an excellent opportunity to sample the frittata, and have some of the melon she’d helped slice.
That would be a no on visiting any time soon then, Elladan snorted.
They did not give the city a new name here? Elrohir asked in confusion.
“I suspect they’ll come visit you if Glorfindel is as aware of your thoughts on Turgon as Galadriel is,” Eöl told her gently. “No one is going to push for you to visit there.”
Yet, Anariel snorted. I take Grandmother Anairë for one who has Views on family and family holidays.
“Yes, we’re assuming she’s where you get it from,” Elrohir said cheerfully. “I would not have thought to pair berries with this cheese, but it is very tasty.”
Anariel shot her older brother a look that wasn’t quite a glare, but was still less than pleased with him, which he was far too chipper about.
“So, little one,” Grandfather said. “I suspect you didn’t come looking for us merely for more sensible company.”
“The boys aren’t feeling up to sparring this morning,” Anariel grinned.
“Not true,” Elrohir said indignantly.
“We merely thought you would want the novelty of someone you haven’t been sparring with daily for years.”
“Or perhaps the challenge,” Elrohir smirked.
“No sparring with new people today,” Anariel sighed. “We’re not giving Grandmother Anairë another chance to freak out.”
“She should not if you are competent,” Eöl pointed out.
“My competency has not historically been the issue with new sparring partners,” Anariel said firmly. If you don’t believe me, ask your son!
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: Buffy's having an excellent morning, and breakfast is no exception.
Word Count: 1250
Note: The original idea was to get to the sparring part, but I've run out of time...
“I thought you said you were just going to find the kitchens and grab something for breakfast,” Elladan greeted her when she finally appeared in the gardens a good two hours after she’d left her room.
“That was what I meant to do,” Anariel replied. “How was I supposed to know it wouldn’t be that simple?”
“You didn’t find the kitchens?” Elrohir asked skeptically.
She rolled her eyes.
“No, I wandered the corridors until the food just appeared out of thin air, as it does here in Aman,” she said. “Of course I found the kitchens. But I wasn’t expecting Anairon to be there, or for the Noldorin idea of ‘breakfast’ to be so…”
“Elaborate?” Elladan offered wryly. “We had breakfast here yesterday. Some of us even had breakfast more than once.”
“Yeah,” she sighed, looking down at the entire basket Anairon had sent her off with before heading up to his parents’ rooms with another one.
Breakfast at Grandmother Nerdanel’s had been a good deal simpler. Eggs, bacon, toast, berries.
Anairon had already had muffins in the oven - apparently Tinu had already given him an extensive rundown on all her siblings’ favorites, but Anariel’s in particular. But he’d also been working on what apparently was normal breakfast fare here, which consisted of a variety of fruits, multiple types of bread or savoury pastry, various cured meats, soft-cooked eggs, and individual-sized fritattas. So she had all that and the muffins. And several types of jam that had been hoarded expressly for her and her brothers.
It was a little overwhelming, and that was before you considered this was the morning after what had appeared to her to be a pretty fancy feast. Even to someone who ate like a Slayer.
“I think they knew it wouldn’t be just you eating,” Elrohir assured her as he relieved her of the basket. “Cheer up, we found Grandfather. And Uncle Eöl.”
Celeborn and Eöl were deep in conversation, and to all appearances didn’t notice the three of them setting up their breakfast picnic. None of the children of Elrond were fooled.
Anariel took the opportunity to pay more attention to Maeglin’s dad. His eyes were a rich brown, and his hair dark. At first glance, one might miss the family resemblance to silver-haired, grey-eyed Celeborn, but if you looked at the shape of their faces, the relationship was there to see.
She wasn’t at all surprised when he beat Grandfather to the punch, ‘noticing’ them right when breakfast was all set and they were on the point of digging in without the older generation.
“So this is the troublemaker?” Eöl asked, giving Anariel a glance that tried to be evaluating.
Really, they both knew perfectly well he’d already gotten a good look at her yesterday, and probably heard plenty from Grandfather, not to mention been hearing from Grandmother (both directly and via Aunt Irissë) for years.
“I have no idea what you mean, that must be the hunger talking,” she replied cheerfully. “Dig in, I have no idea what half of this is.”
“And yet you’re eating it all the same?” Uncle Eöl asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you said this one was the least Noldorin.”
Her brothers snickered.
“You’re eating it too, you goofs,” she pointed out to the twins. “And yes, I’m eating it. Pretty sure Anairon isn’t going to poison me.”
“If he wanted to, he’s certainly going about it the right way,” Elrohir noted, eying the muffins. “Learned your favorite foods and everything.”
“Yes,” Anariel sniffed, “because that is definitely not that weird bread the Gondorians haven’t made in at least three long-years I see there and that has nothing whatsoever to do with you liking it.”
“Ah, the things I can look forward to when Mírimë is older,” Eöl nodded.
“What, Anairon spoiling her shamelessly?” Grandfather asked. “I thought that was already happening.”
“I sure hope so,” Anariel said around a mouthful of the egg toast.
Actually, talking might be overrated for a while. Her mouth had better things to do. Tinu’s best friend knew his food!
Luckily for you none of the Noldorin manners mavens are out here to scold us for not speaking aloud, Eöl chuckled, helping himself to one of the pastries she didn’t recognize.
That’s a thing? she asked.
The only time any child of Elrond and Celebrían had ever worried about osanwë conversation was if they thought they were at risk of being overheard by someone who wasn’t meant to be part of it.
It’s considered rude, Grandfather confirmed.
She got the distinct impression both the older elves were trying not to laugh and her and her brother’s collective reaction to that.
I don’t know, our royal Noldorin grandfathers didn’t object to making use of it at table, Elrohir said. Is that because they have been waiting to see how well we can keep our composure in the face of their misbehavior, or because Tinu already has them trained?
Both Celeborn and Eöl laughed.
“They may not say anything, but your grandmothers will. And your Aunt Findis may also,” Grandfather told them.
Aunt Findis? Really? Anariel asked in surprise. She didn’t seen like a stickler for manners.
“She may have made allowances, considering you were in Lórien,” Grandfather pointed out. “I am told healers often do, at least when you are not driving them to distraction.”
“Where is she, anyway?” Anariel asked, regretting that the excellent egg toast was all gone. “Shouldn’t she be here too? And…Aunt Lalwen?”
“She’s Aunt Írimë when she’s in Tirion,” Elladan said. “Which is the extent of what I’ve heard of her, before you ask.”
“Findis and Elemmírë will probably join those coming from Valimar for the festival of Vana next month,” Eöl told them. “I have not heard anything about Lalwen.”
“What about Glorfindel? And Cali and Tas?” Elrohir asked. “We’ve heard nothing of them either.”
“I imagine they’re in Gondolin,” Grandfather said carefully.
Anariel decided this was an excellent opportunity to sample the frittata, and have some of the melon she’d helped slice.
That would be a no on visiting any time soon then, Elladan snorted.
They did not give the city a new name here? Elrohir asked in confusion.
“I suspect they’ll come visit you if Glorfindel is as aware of your thoughts on Turgon as Galadriel is,” Eöl told her gently. “No one is going to push for you to visit there.”
Yet, Anariel snorted. I take Grandmother Anairë for one who has Views on family and family holidays.
“Yes, we’re assuming she’s where you get it from,” Elrohir said cheerfully. “I would not have thought to pair berries with this cheese, but it is very tasty.”
Anariel shot her older brother a look that wasn’t quite a glare, but was still less than pleased with him, which he was far too chipper about.
“So, little one,” Grandfather said. “I suspect you didn’t come looking for us merely for more sensible company.”
“The boys aren’t feeling up to sparring this morning,” Anariel grinned.
“Not true,” Elrohir said indignantly.
“We merely thought you would want the novelty of someone you haven’t been sparring with daily for years.”
“Or perhaps the challenge,” Elrohir smirked.
“No sparring with new people today,” Anariel sighed. “We’re not giving Grandmother Anairë another chance to freak out.”
“She should not if you are competent,” Eöl pointed out.
“My competency has not historically been the issue with new sparring partners,” Anariel said firmly. If you don’t believe me, ask your son!