Aug 19 - A Nice Quiet Breakfast
Title: A Nice 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: Mornings in Arafinwë's family are not normally quite so eventful.
Word Count: 1415
Eärwen was just pouring her morning tea when she heard it.
It was unmistakable to anyone who had heard the sound of war.
Sword meeting sword.
Her husband and son both sat up straighter, recognizing it as well as she did.
“What under the stars…”
“Anariel, I’d say,” was her daughter’s unconcerned reply. “Don’t worry, Celeborn’s with her.”
“And Eöl,” her niece added.
“She suckered him that quickly?” Nerwen snorted. “Lucky for him everyone else is only just sitting down to eat. He won’t have an audience.”
Given the way Ara stood up, Eärwen suspected he would.
“Atto, you may as well eat first,” Nerwen suggested. “I don’t think she’ll try to get you to join in the fun, but I know Celeborn’s been looking forward to this since he found Eöl was back among the living.”
The slight smirk on Nerwen’s face and answering roll of Irissë’s eyes meant the two of them had already discussed the matter.
Ara was not about to sit and eat, and moved briskly in the direction of the noise.
I’m not the only one. Nolo heard it as well, he informed his wife. And is a good deal more upset.
Ingo hesitated only a moment before following. His youngest son made to stand, but Gildor shook his head at him.
“I don’t see how you can be so calm about it,” Eärwen chided her daughter. “The girl was just injured a few days ago.”
“You saw for yourself yesterday that there wasn’t a mark on her,” Nerwen said soothingly.
It was true that her dress had meant it was impossible to hide anything on her arms...
“And I can be very calm,” her daughter continued, “knowing the worst that can befall her here is overenthusiastic kin who will be more upset about any injury than she is herself. There are no orcs, trolls, dragons, balrogs, or Sauron.”
“I don’t know what everyone expected from a girl who was named Slayer twice,” Irissë remaked.
“The California Slayer is an entirely different matter than an epessë,” Nerwen said, with a bite in her tone.
Irissë blinked, as well she might. It was rare for that to be directed at her.
“Girls,” Eärwen murmured, torn between making sure the pair didn’t have one of their rare quarrels and making sure nothing went awry outside.
“It really won’t help if we all go out there, Emmë,” her daughter sighed. “Drink your tea, and wait for whichever of my grandchildren ends up here. I’m sure at least one of them will.”
Eärwen had been Queen of the Noldor long enough to recognize sense when she heard it. She’d also long ago learnt how to master her own temper when Finwë’s sons were losing theirs. With any luck, it would be little Anariel who joined them, with or without her brothers.
Ingo returned first, looking slightly harried.
“Uncle was in fine form,” he reported. “Eöl has been told.”
Irissë rose with a thunderous expression and strode out the door with the air of one about to sort out a problem definitively.
“Where is everyone else?” Eärwen asked.
“I suspect Celeborn is relating events to his daughter,” Ingo replied. “He was ordered to see the boys to their parents, but I rather doubt that’s what any of them did once they were out of sight.”
“Celeborn is with Celebrían and Elrond,” Nerwen sighed. “The twins have taken their grievance to Aunt Nerdanel and Lindë.”
Eärwen tried not to be vexed that the boys hadn't come here, even though she did have to admit Istarnië hadn’t yet had as much time with them as their other grandmothers had.
“Coming here would hardly satisfy their current aim of staying clear of irritatingly overcautious grandparents,” Nerwen smirked. “Atto may not have done the telling off, but it was clear enough to them that he wasn’t entirely pleased either.”
Ro, you still haven’t shown me where the armory is!
Eärwen wasn’t the only one at the table to wince. Gildor sighed and made an attempt to head outside, but Nerwen and Ingo both shook their heads, and Amarië reached out a hand to gently keep him in his seat.
“I’m starting to think you did not describe your granddaughter adequately,” Ingo said conversationally to his sister. “You’re sure the dragon hunting wasn’t just out of boredom, right? I’m starting to think she’s the type to poke one just to see what would happen.”
“I rather doubt she found being disemboweled much fun,” Nerwen said tartly. “Her point with that intentionally audible announcement was doubtless to give Eöl a chance to make good his escape.”
“And to rub it in to Elrohir that she’s not about to forget such interesting winnings,” Gildor snickered.
“I can show her where it is,” Arador offered. “It’s not like it’s a secret.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” his father said.
“It may not be a secret, but once she’s seen it, she’s likely to be in there for some time,” Nerwen sighed. “So many exciting new weapons.”
“I’m curious to see what she makes of Aeglos,” Gildor grinned.
“Given it was made for Gil-galad, who’s at least a foot taller with me, I’m going with ‘too long, weighted awkwardly for someone my size and shape, and spears aren’t my favorite anyway,” came a voice from the doorway. “Which you already know.”
Everyone at the table looked up to find Ara guiding the girl in question into the room.
An urgent nudge from Arador had his sister sliding over into the chair Irissë had vacated to open up a seat between the two of them as he waved his new cousin over. Gilrod helpfully handed a clean plate down the table so Anariel wouldn’t be stuck with the remnants of their aunt’s breakfast.
She wouldn’t be bothered at all, Nerwin snorted.
Ara looked downright indulgent as Anariel took the offered spot, and started sending some of his own morning favorites her way. Eärwen reached for his hand, and found him somewhat thoughtful, but mostly excited to have the little one he’d spoken to across the sea on sundry occasions sitting down for a quiet morning with them.
Nerwen started to say something, but clearly thought better of it as Anariel began adding fruit to her plate and accepting tidbits her cousins assured her she must try.
Gilrod and Gildor resumed their own breakfasts and conversation as if nothing unusual had happened, but Amarië looked as though she were biting her tongue.
It wasn’t until Anariel shot a sideways glance at Arador before tentatively taking a forkful of the starfruit salad that Eärwen realized the girl had never seen at least half of what had been dished to her before.
“I take it Anairon stuck to foods found in Ennor?” Ingo asked with a grin.
Anariel’s slightly bemused nod said all too clearly that she had just realized how much effort the boy must have put into whatever he’d given her.
“You don’t have to try it all in one sitting, darling,” Eärwen assured her.
“I wasn’t going to,” Anariel replied blithely. “I already had breakfast.”
Quite a few eyes were drawn to her full plate.
“Sparring went that well, did it?” Gildor chuckled.
“It was fun,” the girl replied, taking a slightly cautious bite.
“Have you had starfruit before, my sunshine?” Ara asked.
Eärwen had to restrain herself from telling him not to press the child while she was trying to eat.
Anariel was polite enough not to talk with her mouth full, and gave Nerwen a rather confused glance before shaking her head.
“Company manners aren’t required at the breakfast table,” Ingo informed her.
I think there was something similar in California, but it wasn’t common in our area, you had to look for it at fancy markets. Definitely didn’t have it in Imladris.
“It’s good,” she continued after swallowing.
Eärwen might have known that by how swiftly it was disappearing.
“In winter, it’s cooked with spices,” Arador told her. “Just wait, you’ll love it.”
After that, nothing would do but for all Ingo’s children - save Gildor, who appeared to be trying his very best not to laugh at his younger siblings’ antics - to encourage her to try their favorites.
I would not have expected her to bond with them over food, but it’s a good a way as any, Nerwen told her quietly. And a good deal more conducive to Atto and Ingo’s peace of mind than a few other methods she might have chosen.
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: Mornings in Arafinwë's family are not normally quite so eventful.
Word Count: 1415
Eärwen was just pouring her morning tea when she heard it.
It was unmistakable to anyone who had heard the sound of war.
Sword meeting sword.
Her husband and son both sat up straighter, recognizing it as well as she did.
“What under the stars…”
“Anariel, I’d say,” was her daughter’s unconcerned reply. “Don’t worry, Celeborn’s with her.”
“And Eöl,” her niece added.
“She suckered him that quickly?” Nerwen snorted. “Lucky for him everyone else is only just sitting down to eat. He won’t have an audience.”
Given the way Ara stood up, Eärwen suspected he would.
“Atto, you may as well eat first,” Nerwen suggested. “I don’t think she’ll try to get you to join in the fun, but I know Celeborn’s been looking forward to this since he found Eöl was back among the living.”
The slight smirk on Nerwen’s face and answering roll of Irissë’s eyes meant the two of them had already discussed the matter.
Ara was not about to sit and eat, and moved briskly in the direction of the noise.
I’m not the only one. Nolo heard it as well, he informed his wife. And is a good deal more upset.
Ingo hesitated only a moment before following. His youngest son made to stand, but Gildor shook his head at him.
“I don’t see how you can be so calm about it,” Eärwen chided her daughter. “The girl was just injured a few days ago.”
“You saw for yourself yesterday that there wasn’t a mark on her,” Nerwen said soothingly.
It was true that her dress had meant it was impossible to hide anything on her arms...
“And I can be very calm,” her daughter continued, “knowing the worst that can befall her here is overenthusiastic kin who will be more upset about any injury than she is herself. There are no orcs, trolls, dragons, balrogs, or Sauron.”
“I don’t know what everyone expected from a girl who was named Slayer twice,” Irissë remaked.
“The California Slayer is an entirely different matter than an epessë,” Nerwen said, with a bite in her tone.
Irissë blinked, as well she might. It was rare for that to be directed at her.
“Girls,” Eärwen murmured, torn between making sure the pair didn’t have one of their rare quarrels and making sure nothing went awry outside.
“It really won’t help if we all go out there, Emmë,” her daughter sighed. “Drink your tea, and wait for whichever of my grandchildren ends up here. I’m sure at least one of them will.”
Eärwen had been Queen of the Noldor long enough to recognize sense when she heard it. She’d also long ago learnt how to master her own temper when Finwë’s sons were losing theirs. With any luck, it would be little Anariel who joined them, with or without her brothers.
Ingo returned first, looking slightly harried.
“Uncle was in fine form,” he reported. “Eöl has been told.”
Irissë rose with a thunderous expression and strode out the door with the air of one about to sort out a problem definitively.
“Where is everyone else?” Eärwen asked.
“I suspect Celeborn is relating events to his daughter,” Ingo replied. “He was ordered to see the boys to their parents, but I rather doubt that’s what any of them did once they were out of sight.”
“Celeborn is with Celebrían and Elrond,” Nerwen sighed. “The twins have taken their grievance to Aunt Nerdanel and Lindë.”
Eärwen tried not to be vexed that the boys hadn't come here, even though she did have to admit Istarnië hadn’t yet had as much time with them as their other grandmothers had.
“Coming here would hardly satisfy their current aim of staying clear of irritatingly overcautious grandparents,” Nerwen smirked. “Atto may not have done the telling off, but it was clear enough to them that he wasn’t entirely pleased either.”
Ro, you still haven’t shown me where the armory is!
Eärwen wasn’t the only one at the table to wince. Gildor sighed and made an attempt to head outside, but Nerwen and Ingo both shook their heads, and Amarië reached out a hand to gently keep him in his seat.
“I’m starting to think you did not describe your granddaughter adequately,” Ingo said conversationally to his sister. “You’re sure the dragon hunting wasn’t just out of boredom, right? I’m starting to think she’s the type to poke one just to see what would happen.”
“I rather doubt she found being disemboweled much fun,” Nerwen said tartly. “Her point with that intentionally audible announcement was doubtless to give Eöl a chance to make good his escape.”
“And to rub it in to Elrohir that she’s not about to forget such interesting winnings,” Gildor snickered.
“I can show her where it is,” Arador offered. “It’s not like it’s a secret.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” his father said.
“It may not be a secret, but once she’s seen it, she’s likely to be in there for some time,” Nerwen sighed. “So many exciting new weapons.”
“I’m curious to see what she makes of Aeglos,” Gildor grinned.
“Given it was made for Gil-galad, who’s at least a foot taller with me, I’m going with ‘too long, weighted awkwardly for someone my size and shape, and spears aren’t my favorite anyway,” came a voice from the doorway. “Which you already know.”
Everyone at the table looked up to find Ara guiding the girl in question into the room.
An urgent nudge from Arador had his sister sliding over into the chair Irissë had vacated to open up a seat between the two of them as he waved his new cousin over. Gilrod helpfully handed a clean plate down the table so Anariel wouldn’t be stuck with the remnants of their aunt’s breakfast.
She wouldn’t be bothered at all, Nerwin snorted.
Ara looked downright indulgent as Anariel took the offered spot, and started sending some of his own morning favorites her way. Eärwen reached for his hand, and found him somewhat thoughtful, but mostly excited to have the little one he’d spoken to across the sea on sundry occasions sitting down for a quiet morning with them.
Nerwen started to say something, but clearly thought better of it as Anariel began adding fruit to her plate and accepting tidbits her cousins assured her she must try.
Gilrod and Gildor resumed their own breakfasts and conversation as if nothing unusual had happened, but Amarië looked as though she were biting her tongue.
It wasn’t until Anariel shot a sideways glance at Arador before tentatively taking a forkful of the starfruit salad that Eärwen realized the girl had never seen at least half of what had been dished to her before.
“I take it Anairon stuck to foods found in Ennor?” Ingo asked with a grin.
Anariel’s slightly bemused nod said all too clearly that she had just realized how much effort the boy must have put into whatever he’d given her.
“You don’t have to try it all in one sitting, darling,” Eärwen assured her.
“I wasn’t going to,” Anariel replied blithely. “I already had breakfast.”
Quite a few eyes were drawn to her full plate.
“Sparring went that well, did it?” Gildor chuckled.
“It was fun,” the girl replied, taking a slightly cautious bite.
“Have you had starfruit before, my sunshine?” Ara asked.
Eärwen had to restrain herself from telling him not to press the child while she was trying to eat.
Anariel was polite enough not to talk with her mouth full, and gave Nerwen a rather confused glance before shaking her head.
“Company manners aren’t required at the breakfast table,” Ingo informed her.
I think there was something similar in California, but it wasn’t common in our area, you had to look for it at fancy markets. Definitely didn’t have it in Imladris.
“It’s good,” she continued after swallowing.
Eärwen might have known that by how swiftly it was disappearing.
“In winter, it’s cooked with spices,” Arador told her. “Just wait, you’ll love it.”
After that, nothing would do but for all Ingo’s children - save Gildor, who appeared to be trying his very best not to laugh at his younger siblings’ antics - to encourage her to try their favorites.
I would not have expected her to bond with them over food, but it’s a good a way as any, Nerwen told her quietly. And a good deal more conducive to Atto and Ingo’s peace of mind than a few other methods she might have chosen.