Aug 27 - The Grandmotherly Inquisition
Title: The Grandmotherly Inquisition
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: She expected the questions. She expected the grandmothers. She expected to finish breakfast first...
Word Count: 355
Note: Sorry y'all, trying to make headway on a TRSB pinch hit that has taken over my brain.
The peace and quiet didn’t last long, but Anariel managed two cinnamon rolls before the first grandmother showed up.
The only surprise was that it was Eärwen. Anariel had expecteded Anairë would need to reassure herself that Anariel was alive and well, even if she had seen Slayer healing at work once already.
“It seems Lissë’s version of events is somewhat exaggerated,” Eärwen sighed in relief after looking her smallest descendant up and down.
“Doubtful,” Elrohir sniffed. “I suspect she was fairly accurate, at least in the parts she saw.”
Eärwen raised a well-practiced eyebrow.
“You’re the one that provoked the eyebrow raise,” Anariel informed him. “Which means you get to answer it.”
Eärwen intercepted her hand before Anariel could get the third cinnamon roll she was reaching for.
The wound from last night was still healing, with the existing scar beneath it clearly visible.
“What is this from?” she asked in a worryingly calm tone.
“Balrog whip,” Anariel answered, appealing silently to the twins for assistance.
Her brothers looked aghast, but Eärwen released the hand, allowing Anariel to get on with her breakfast.
“She asked,” Anariel pointed out.
“I did, pitya, but that was the sort of answer that just leads to more questions. For instance, why was your hand in contact with a balrog’s whip?” Eärwen said. “I believe the usual practice is to avoid those?”
Anariel frowned, wondering how long she could reasonably plead ‘mouthful of food’ to avoid that one.
“Not very long, I shouldn’t think,” Eärwen said sweetly. “And if you try to draw it out, I shall just call Nerwen in here. She’s currently hoping I’ve not noticed she and Irissë are skulking about the gardens trying to avoid me.”
“By all means, draw it out,” Elladan advised Anariel. “I’m curious to see Grandmother on the end of the questioning. It would be a novel experience."
“I doubt you’ll get a good answer from this one in any case," Elrohir added. "She’s always been rather close-mouthed about how the balrog slaying went.”
With good reason, Anariel pointed out acidly. I’m not in the habit of telling people’s mothers all the gory details!
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: She expected the questions. She expected the grandmothers. She expected to finish breakfast first...
Word Count: 355
Note: Sorry y'all, trying to make headway on a TRSB pinch hit that has taken over my brain.
The peace and quiet didn’t last long, but Anariel managed two cinnamon rolls before the first grandmother showed up.
The only surprise was that it was Eärwen. Anariel had expecteded Anairë would need to reassure herself that Anariel was alive and well, even if she had seen Slayer healing at work once already.
“It seems Lissë’s version of events is somewhat exaggerated,” Eärwen sighed in relief after looking her smallest descendant up and down.
“Doubtful,” Elrohir sniffed. “I suspect she was fairly accurate, at least in the parts she saw.”
Eärwen raised a well-practiced eyebrow.
“You’re the one that provoked the eyebrow raise,” Anariel informed him. “Which means you get to answer it.”
Eärwen intercepted her hand before Anariel could get the third cinnamon roll she was reaching for.
The wound from last night was still healing, with the existing scar beneath it clearly visible.
“What is this from?” she asked in a worryingly calm tone.
“Balrog whip,” Anariel answered, appealing silently to the twins for assistance.
Her brothers looked aghast, but Eärwen released the hand, allowing Anariel to get on with her breakfast.
“She asked,” Anariel pointed out.
“I did, pitya, but that was the sort of answer that just leads to more questions. For instance, why was your hand in contact with a balrog’s whip?” Eärwen said. “I believe the usual practice is to avoid those?”
Anariel frowned, wondering how long she could reasonably plead ‘mouthful of food’ to avoid that one.
“Not very long, I shouldn’t think,” Eärwen said sweetly. “And if you try to draw it out, I shall just call Nerwen in here. She’s currently hoping I’ve not noticed she and Irissë are skulking about the gardens trying to avoid me.”
“By all means, draw it out,” Elladan advised Anariel. “I’m curious to see Grandmother on the end of the questioning. It would be a novel experience."
“I doubt you’ll get a good answer from this one in any case," Elrohir added. "She’s always been rather close-mouthed about how the balrog slaying went.”
With good reason, Anariel pointed out acidly. I’m not in the habit of telling people’s mothers all the gory details!