Aug 26 - A Bright New Day
Title: A Bright New Day
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: Sometimes things do look better in the morning.
Word Count: 1075
Note: Oops, out of time.
“Good morning, sunshine.”
Anariel stuck her tongue out at Elladan.
“I trust you slept better this time.”
Anariel tossed a pillow at him. She had enough of them - her brothers had built a small fortress of them to keep her from turning onto her back.
Elrohir had carried her straight back to her own room from the armory, or at least as straight as could be managed while also avoiding every relative they had. That would have been much simpler in Imladris, and made her positively nostalgic for the days when she could slip in and out of windows on Revello Drive unnoticed.
Elladan had followed them not long after, with the warning that grandparental inquisition couldn’t be put off forever, but it they were lucky, the grandmother brigade might wait until morning. (It was highly unfortunate that Grandfather Arafinwë had arrived in time to see Anariel, not just the aftermath.)
Then there had been a swift but silent argument about cleaning up before turning in for the night.
The boys had been against, but Anariel had won by pointing out that if she didn’t wash up, she’d only be making a mess of the sheets. She’d lost on the question of bath or shower though, and the twins had supervised to make sure she didn’t get carried away or fall asleep standing up.
After that, Anariel had face planted into her admittedly very comfortable bed and Elladan and Elrohir had gotten creative with the pillows. She presumed they’d also guarded her sleep to make sure she didn’t have to hope third time would be the charm.
“We thought you’d been awake sooner, it’s mid-morning,” Elrohir continued. “Elladan’s been very effective at insisting no one come in as you were still sleeping, but now that excuse is gone.”
“Does that mean I have to brave the crowd to get breakfast?” Anariel asked reluctantly.
Food was a need, not a want. Slayer healing burned calories like mad.
“No,” Elrohir said smugly. “I wheedled cinnamon rolls and a fruit selection out of Anairon. Clever of you to make friends with the cousin who cooks.”
“Tinu’s the one who made friends, all any of us had to do was show up and not be terrible,” Anariel pointed out drily. “If you want to credit me with making friends, I think Artalissë is the one who counts, seeing as Tinu can’t stand her.”
“I’m surprised you’re so pleasant about her,” Elladan said. “Seeing as your night got considerably more interesting due to her.”
“I don’t think she did it on purpose,” Anariel shrugged. “Even if I’m not sure why she decided to scream her head off.”
“She’s never seen anyone sleep with their eyes closed before,” Elrohir told her, his tone dancing with mirth. “She thought you were dead.”
Anariel had no idea what to say to that.
“Hasn’t she seen Tinu asleep at all?” she asked finally.
“I think she avoids Lissë as much as possible,” Elladan replied. “I doubt Lissë would go barging into the rooms of someone who doesn’t like her to begin with.”
Elrohir did the quick scan that they all did whenever they wanted to make sure they weren’t going to get caught - which had become slightly more important here where more than just Ada could catch them.
And? he asked.
And what? Anariel snorted. And I got to see the few minutes I missed last time. “Mire of his blood” was accurate.
She’d vented her feelings by killing different orcs this time around. And a balrog. Just because she could.
She’d unfortunately also gotten a pointed reminder that she’d get to see the mire of his blood at least once more. Turukano had been close enough to see it, after all. She suspected that had been deliberate on Morgoth’s part. She wasn’t sure if he’d been going for a two-fer and missed, or if he’d just liked the idea of toying with the last Nolofinwion standing.
If she had her way, that wouldn’t be for quite a while. Years, if she could manage it.
“You said something about cinnamon rolls,” she said, sitting up.
“I did,” Elrohir grinned. “But you’d better put clothes on first. I'm fairly sure the Noldorin grannies will find it scandalous for you to be sitting around without clothes on.”
“Only because you’re in here with me,” she snickered.
"Your back is healing nicely," Elrohir added."If you don't bother with clothes, they could see that for themselves."
"Don't be silly," Anariel sighed. "I'll get dressed."
“What colors do you feel like today?” Elladan asked, surveying the contents of the wardrobe. “Aside from what Arwen sent and what you brought, I haven’t seen most of this before, but it looks like it has just about everything.”
Anariel looked around the room as she considered the question. She had barely spent any time in there awake. The bed was on a balcony overlooking the main room, which opened directly onto the gardens. There were a few flowering plants inside as well. It felt like a room designed for someone who liked their privacy and the outdoors.
“Yellow or light blue?” she asked, picking colors to match the room.
“How about both?” her brother replied, tossing a garment onto the bed. “I’m not sure, but I think this is what passes for everyday wear in Tirion.”
The cut of the light blue tunic was fairly simple, but the yellow and gold embroidery more than made up for it. The bottoms that went with it were so wide and flowy they could be mistaken for a skirt rather than pants.
With suggestions from the twins, Anariel managed to get the outfit on as they collectively believed it was meant to be worn. Looking in the mirror when they finished, Anariel thought it looked like a dress - the bottoms blended so well with the tunic it was all but impossible to notice they were not all one - and considerably fancier than she would usually wear on a normal day.
“I hope we haven’t accidentally picked a festival outfit,” Anariel muttered as she picked up her cinnamon roll.
“If we have, you’ll know better next time,” Elrohir shrugged.
“How much longer do you think the peace and quiet lasts?” Elladan wanted to know.
Hopefully long enough to eat, Anariel replied. These are good cinnamon rolls.
“And here we thought it was Maeglin you’d be pestering incessantly to craft things for you,” Elrohir snickered.
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: Sometimes things do look better in the morning.
Word Count: 1075
Note: Oops, out of time.
“Good morning, sunshine.”
Anariel stuck her tongue out at Elladan.
“I trust you slept better this time.”
Anariel tossed a pillow at him. She had enough of them - her brothers had built a small fortress of them to keep her from turning onto her back.
Elrohir had carried her straight back to her own room from the armory, or at least as straight as could be managed while also avoiding every relative they had. That would have been much simpler in Imladris, and made her positively nostalgic for the days when she could slip in and out of windows on Revello Drive unnoticed.
Elladan had followed them not long after, with the warning that grandparental inquisition couldn’t be put off forever, but it they were lucky, the grandmother brigade might wait until morning. (It was highly unfortunate that Grandfather Arafinwë had arrived in time to see Anariel, not just the aftermath.)
Then there had been a swift but silent argument about cleaning up before turning in for the night.
The boys had been against, but Anariel had won by pointing out that if she didn’t wash up, she’d only be making a mess of the sheets. She’d lost on the question of bath or shower though, and the twins had supervised to make sure she didn’t get carried away or fall asleep standing up.
After that, Anariel had face planted into her admittedly very comfortable bed and Elladan and Elrohir had gotten creative with the pillows. She presumed they’d also guarded her sleep to make sure she didn’t have to hope third time would be the charm.
“We thought you’d been awake sooner, it’s mid-morning,” Elrohir continued. “Elladan’s been very effective at insisting no one come in as you were still sleeping, but now that excuse is gone.”
“Does that mean I have to brave the crowd to get breakfast?” Anariel asked reluctantly.
Food was a need, not a want. Slayer healing burned calories like mad.
“No,” Elrohir said smugly. “I wheedled cinnamon rolls and a fruit selection out of Anairon. Clever of you to make friends with the cousin who cooks.”
“Tinu’s the one who made friends, all any of us had to do was show up and not be terrible,” Anariel pointed out drily. “If you want to credit me with making friends, I think Artalissë is the one who counts, seeing as Tinu can’t stand her.”
“I’m surprised you’re so pleasant about her,” Elladan said. “Seeing as your night got considerably more interesting due to her.”
“I don’t think she did it on purpose,” Anariel shrugged. “Even if I’m not sure why she decided to scream her head off.”
“She’s never seen anyone sleep with their eyes closed before,” Elrohir told her, his tone dancing with mirth. “She thought you were dead.”
Anariel had no idea what to say to that.
“Hasn’t she seen Tinu asleep at all?” she asked finally.
“I think she avoids Lissë as much as possible,” Elladan replied. “I doubt Lissë would go barging into the rooms of someone who doesn’t like her to begin with.”
Elrohir did the quick scan that they all did whenever they wanted to make sure they weren’t going to get caught - which had become slightly more important here where more than just Ada could catch them.
And? he asked.
And what? Anariel snorted. And I got to see the few minutes I missed last time. “Mire of his blood” was accurate.
She’d vented her feelings by killing different orcs this time around. And a balrog. Just because she could.
She’d unfortunately also gotten a pointed reminder that she’d get to see the mire of his blood at least once more. Turukano had been close enough to see it, after all. She suspected that had been deliberate on Morgoth’s part. She wasn’t sure if he’d been going for a two-fer and missed, or if he’d just liked the idea of toying with the last Nolofinwion standing.
If she had her way, that wouldn’t be for quite a while. Years, if she could manage it.
“You said something about cinnamon rolls,” she said, sitting up.
“I did,” Elrohir grinned. “But you’d better put clothes on first. I'm fairly sure the Noldorin grannies will find it scandalous for you to be sitting around without clothes on.”
“Only because you’re in here with me,” she snickered.
"Your back is healing nicely," Elrohir added."If you don't bother with clothes, they could see that for themselves."
"Don't be silly," Anariel sighed. "I'll get dressed."
“What colors do you feel like today?” Elladan asked, surveying the contents of the wardrobe. “Aside from what Arwen sent and what you brought, I haven’t seen most of this before, but it looks like it has just about everything.”
Anariel looked around the room as she considered the question. She had barely spent any time in there awake. The bed was on a balcony overlooking the main room, which opened directly onto the gardens. There were a few flowering plants inside as well. It felt like a room designed for someone who liked their privacy and the outdoors.
“Yellow or light blue?” she asked, picking colors to match the room.
“How about both?” her brother replied, tossing a garment onto the bed. “I’m not sure, but I think this is what passes for everyday wear in Tirion.”
The cut of the light blue tunic was fairly simple, but the yellow and gold embroidery more than made up for it. The bottoms that went with it were so wide and flowy they could be mistaken for a skirt rather than pants.
With suggestions from the twins, Anariel managed to get the outfit on as they collectively believed it was meant to be worn. Looking in the mirror when they finished, Anariel thought it looked like a dress - the bottoms blended so well with the tunic it was all but impossible to notice they were not all one - and considerably fancier than she would usually wear on a normal day.
“I hope we haven’t accidentally picked a festival outfit,” Anariel muttered as she picked up her cinnamon roll.
“If we have, you’ll know better next time,” Elrohir shrugged.
“How much longer do you think the peace and quiet lasts?” Elladan wanted to know.
Hopefully long enough to eat, Anariel replied. These are good cinnamon rolls.
“And here we thought it was Maeglin you’d be pestering incessantly to craft things for you,” Elrohir snickered.