Aug 31 - Shine On
Title: Shine On
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 first real taste of Tirion, and it's a good one.
Word Count: 1500 (ish. I have my doubts about how Word counts that hyphenated string.)
Note: Right, not quite as far as I meant to get this round, but I think I'm leaving Anariel in a good place for the time being...
Elladan managed not to snicker, but it was a near run thing.
The four of them - himself, his brother, Anariel, and Arador - had stopped just shy of the square so that the three of them not used to quite so many elves could have a minute to get used to seeing so many of them in one place at once. (And for reasons that had nothing to do with battles.)
Arador jumped when someone clapped him on the shoulder.
The children of Elrond were not startled, well able even on the edge of such a crowd to pick out footsteps coming up behind them.
“Can I join in on the sneaking out, or is this a private adventure?”
The eldest of Finrod’s Aman-born children looked very much like his older brother Gildor, but with more gold in his hair. He’d also cheerfully told them that while he usually answered to Gilrod, his mother-name was Elaráto. Elrohir had agreed with Elladan that made for an interesting trio. They were uninclined to point out that age-wise, he really ought to have been Arwen’s particular companion.
“I believe there is room for one more,” Elrohir said.
“As long as that one isn’t going to rat anyone out,” Anariel shrugged.
Elladan did not laugh at the quizzical look on the third El’s face as he mouthed ‘rat?’ in bewilderment.
“A California turn of phrase,” Elladan explained. “Meaning to tattle on.”
“Ah,” Elaráto replied, sounding only slightly less puzzled. “That was not the plan.”
“There’s a plan?” Arador asked cautiously.
“If you walk out there with two dark haired twins who look remarkably like Uncle Turvo - and apparently also like Cousin Lúthien - do you really think it will take very long for the whole square to work out who the small one is? I will grant you not every elf out there is as clever as some of our kin even when sober, but I believe most of them will get there fairly quickly.”
“When you put it like that,” Anariel sighed. “What’s your plan?”
“If one of the twins is with me, the other with you two troublemakers, it will not be as obvious that they are twins. It might occur to a few people to wonder if they might be seeing a son of Elrond, it’s doubtful many people who had a good enough look at your presentation at court to know you on sight will be out here…”
“I’m starting to like having all these cousins,” Anariel remarked. “I take it my brothers switch off so you get hang time with both of them?”
“We all switch off,” Elaráto grinned. “Your brothers are the only two who shouldn’t pair up, at least not unless we find a section you’re sure won’t make a big fuss about it.”
Elladan didn’t even need to glance at his brother to know this was a workable idea, even if they were both a bit apprehensive about the idea of letting their sister out of their sight.
One of us can still be with her the whole time, Elrohir pointed out.
Or you two could trust that I’m a big girl, Arador knows his own city well enough for us not to get in trouble, and I doubt El-who-shall-not-be-shortened-yet is going to be the one to go back and explain to his parents that I got lost on his watch, Anariel said tartly. The point of this was to get a look at Tirion without the grandparents in tow, and maybe have some fun while we’re at it.
“Very well,” Elrohir agreed, turning to Elaráto. “You and I will go first.”
“Older brothers,” Anariel sighed, rolling her eyes. “Pretty sure a bunch of elves aren’t something you guys have to defend us from.”
“If your goal is to ‘scope it out’ without being recognized, us going first is only logical,” Elladan pointed out. “If either of us are recognized, you surely will be.”
“I wasn’t arguing,” Anariel said. “Just remarking.”
She leaned against Arador as they watched Elrohir and Elaráto disappear into the throng.
“How long do we give them before we can slip out without giving someone déjà vu?” she wanted to know.
Elladan once again had to work not to laugh as she had to explain first why the words sounded different than the other California words Arador had heard so far, and then what the concept meant and why people who didn’t believe in foresight might need such an idea. By the time she’d finished that - and two tangent explanations that went with it - more than enough time had elapsed that they could emerge into the crowd themselves.
Elladan had thought the square was large in the empty early-morning hours the previous time he’d been in it. Somehow, it felt larger with so many people in it.
“I think there’s two main groups at opposite ends of the square,” Arador said. “There’s quite a lot of Lindar, both the Lindar of Alqualondë and Sindar.”
Anariel grinned.
“Excellent, a two-fer.”
Then she groaned and started explaining before even being asked.
Elladan snickered, and steered them toward a spot his nose told him would be where the food was. He was curious to see festival food here.
“Anairon’s going to be so disappointed you headed directly for the food stalls,” Arador warned him.
“Why? This is street food,” Anariel said in bemusement. “Everyone knows that’s totally different than cooking at home. And… that is fried dough and I want some.”
Elladan first smothered a laugh at how distractible his sister could be when there were no creatures of the enemy around, then grinned at Arador’s outrage at the idea of ‘puff balls’ being mere fried dough. It was far more difficult not to laugh at the subsequent oration on the wonders of this most excellent of festival foods, how it was made, the intricacies of the spice blends and how one could tell certain bakers by what blend they used, the care that had to be taken both the selection and heat of the oil, and several other things he would have expected from Anairon but not from the Inglorions.
Anariel nodded along patiently until Arador finished.
“Ok, so it’s really good fried dough, and it’s on a stick. How do we get some? Do we need money?”
Arador couldn’t quite hold his dismay at her continuing to call it fried dough, or maintain that was somehow an insult to puff balls given her enthusiasm about trying it.
Elladan was as relieved as his sister to discover money wasn’t necessary - nearly all the food stalls were sponsored by various guilds, clubs, or individuals. In the case of the bakers’ guild, it was really pure showing off, but plenty of other craft guilds commissioned cooks or bakers as well. They had only to wait their turn in line to get the treat. By the time they reached the head of the line, Elladan’s mouth was watering.
Anariel had used the time waiting to look around, though he wasn’t sure how much she could see from her lower vantage point. She must have seen enough to have ideas, though, because once they were handed their puff balls - by a baker’s assistant who definitely recognized Arador and whose eyes lingered just long enough on Elladan’s face to betray that while he might not know now, he would work it out - she was the one setting their course.
“You’re right,” she said blissfully after her first bite. “It’s really good.”
“Also, fried dough,” Elladan couldn’t resist adding, chuckling at Arador’s expression.
The youngest Inglorion was enjoying the food every bit as much as they were, though.
He wasn’t sure if it was just the need to focus on eating that kept them so sedate while they looped through the Noldor-dominated end of the square, but when they got to an area that was clearly primarily Sindar, Anariel grinned.
“Food’s done, dancing now?” she suggested brightly.
It would have taken a much harder heart than Elladan’s to say no. Not when this was the happiest he’d seen his little sister since they left Imladris.
Possibly longer, he reflected, watching her throw herself into the dance with abandon once she was sure Arador knew how this one went. She looked like she was having the time of her life, and something of the sparkle that had departed with her Scooby siblings was finally back.
Of course it is, she told him. This is a great party, and we didn’t even have to save the world first.
I don’t think having to save the world is such a regular thing here, he replied.
“Good,” Anariel grinned, as the dance threw them together. “Now, dance-off?”
“Prepare to lose,” he told her. “I still have several long-years more practice at this one than you do.”
“Bold words,” she said with a smirk. “Better back them up!”
Elladan raised an eyebrow at Arador.
“I suspect I’m outmatched,” the boy said. “What’s more, I believe the phrase is ‘my money is on her’.”
Anariel’s laugh lit up the circle around them, and at the cry of ‘a challenge!’ the drummers struck up a more demanding beat.
Tirion might not be so bad after all, she told him. Also, I’m totally going to win.
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 first real taste of Tirion, and it's a good one.
Word Count: 1500 (ish. I have my doubts about how Word counts that hyphenated string.)
Note: Right, not quite as far as I meant to get this round, but I think I'm leaving Anariel in a good place for the time being...
Elladan managed not to snicker, but it was a near run thing.
The four of them - himself, his brother, Anariel, and Arador - had stopped just shy of the square so that the three of them not used to quite so many elves could have a minute to get used to seeing so many of them in one place at once. (And for reasons that had nothing to do with battles.)
Arador jumped when someone clapped him on the shoulder.
The children of Elrond were not startled, well able even on the edge of such a crowd to pick out footsteps coming up behind them.
“Can I join in on the sneaking out, or is this a private adventure?”
The eldest of Finrod’s Aman-born children looked very much like his older brother Gildor, but with more gold in his hair. He’d also cheerfully told them that while he usually answered to Gilrod, his mother-name was Elaráto. Elrohir had agreed with Elladan that made for an interesting trio. They were uninclined to point out that age-wise, he really ought to have been Arwen’s particular companion.
“I believe there is room for one more,” Elrohir said.
“As long as that one isn’t going to rat anyone out,” Anariel shrugged.
Elladan did not laugh at the quizzical look on the third El’s face as he mouthed ‘rat?’ in bewilderment.
“A California turn of phrase,” Elladan explained. “Meaning to tattle on.”
“Ah,” Elaráto replied, sounding only slightly less puzzled. “That was not the plan.”
“There’s a plan?” Arador asked cautiously.
“If you walk out there with two dark haired twins who look remarkably like Uncle Turvo - and apparently also like Cousin Lúthien - do you really think it will take very long for the whole square to work out who the small one is? I will grant you not every elf out there is as clever as some of our kin even when sober, but I believe most of them will get there fairly quickly.”
“When you put it like that,” Anariel sighed. “What’s your plan?”
“If one of the twins is with me, the other with you two troublemakers, it will not be as obvious that they are twins. It might occur to a few people to wonder if they might be seeing a son of Elrond, it’s doubtful many people who had a good enough look at your presentation at court to know you on sight will be out here…”
“I’m starting to like having all these cousins,” Anariel remarked. “I take it my brothers switch off so you get hang time with both of them?”
“We all switch off,” Elaráto grinned. “Your brothers are the only two who shouldn’t pair up, at least not unless we find a section you’re sure won’t make a big fuss about it.”
Elladan didn’t even need to glance at his brother to know this was a workable idea, even if they were both a bit apprehensive about the idea of letting their sister out of their sight.
One of us can still be with her the whole time, Elrohir pointed out.
Or you two could trust that I’m a big girl, Arador knows his own city well enough for us not to get in trouble, and I doubt El-who-shall-not-be-shortened-yet is going to be the one to go back and explain to his parents that I got lost on his watch, Anariel said tartly. The point of this was to get a look at Tirion without the grandparents in tow, and maybe have some fun while we’re at it.
“Very well,” Elrohir agreed, turning to Elaráto. “You and I will go first.”
“Older brothers,” Anariel sighed, rolling her eyes. “Pretty sure a bunch of elves aren’t something you guys have to defend us from.”
“If your goal is to ‘scope it out’ without being recognized, us going first is only logical,” Elladan pointed out. “If either of us are recognized, you surely will be.”
“I wasn’t arguing,” Anariel said. “Just remarking.”
She leaned against Arador as they watched Elrohir and Elaráto disappear into the throng.
“How long do we give them before we can slip out without giving someone déjà vu?” she wanted to know.
Elladan once again had to work not to laugh as she had to explain first why the words sounded different than the other California words Arador had heard so far, and then what the concept meant and why people who didn’t believe in foresight might need such an idea. By the time she’d finished that - and two tangent explanations that went with it - more than enough time had elapsed that they could emerge into the crowd themselves.
Elladan had thought the square was large in the empty early-morning hours the previous time he’d been in it. Somehow, it felt larger with so many people in it.
“I think there’s two main groups at opposite ends of the square,” Arador said. “There’s quite a lot of Lindar, both the Lindar of Alqualondë and Sindar.”
Anariel grinned.
“Excellent, a two-fer.”
Then she groaned and started explaining before even being asked.
Elladan snickered, and steered them toward a spot his nose told him would be where the food was. He was curious to see festival food here.
“Anairon’s going to be so disappointed you headed directly for the food stalls,” Arador warned him.
“Why? This is street food,” Anariel said in bemusement. “Everyone knows that’s totally different than cooking at home. And… that is fried dough and I want some.”
Elladan first smothered a laugh at how distractible his sister could be when there were no creatures of the enemy around, then grinned at Arador’s outrage at the idea of ‘puff balls’ being mere fried dough. It was far more difficult not to laugh at the subsequent oration on the wonders of this most excellent of festival foods, how it was made, the intricacies of the spice blends and how one could tell certain bakers by what blend they used, the care that had to be taken both the selection and heat of the oil, and several other things he would have expected from Anairon but not from the Inglorions.
Anariel nodded along patiently until Arador finished.
“Ok, so it’s really good fried dough, and it’s on a stick. How do we get some? Do we need money?”
Arador couldn’t quite hold his dismay at her continuing to call it fried dough, or maintain that was somehow an insult to puff balls given her enthusiasm about trying it.
Elladan was as relieved as his sister to discover money wasn’t necessary - nearly all the food stalls were sponsored by various guilds, clubs, or individuals. In the case of the bakers’ guild, it was really pure showing off, but plenty of other craft guilds commissioned cooks or bakers as well. They had only to wait their turn in line to get the treat. By the time they reached the head of the line, Elladan’s mouth was watering.
Anariel had used the time waiting to look around, though he wasn’t sure how much she could see from her lower vantage point. She must have seen enough to have ideas, though, because once they were handed their puff balls - by a baker’s assistant who definitely recognized Arador and whose eyes lingered just long enough on Elladan’s face to betray that while he might not know now, he would work it out - she was the one setting their course.
“You’re right,” she said blissfully after her first bite. “It’s really good.”
“Also, fried dough,” Elladan couldn’t resist adding, chuckling at Arador’s expression.
The youngest Inglorion was enjoying the food every bit as much as they were, though.
He wasn’t sure if it was just the need to focus on eating that kept them so sedate while they looped through the Noldor-dominated end of the square, but when they got to an area that was clearly primarily Sindar, Anariel grinned.
“Food’s done, dancing now?” she suggested brightly.
It would have taken a much harder heart than Elladan’s to say no. Not when this was the happiest he’d seen his little sister since they left Imladris.
Possibly longer, he reflected, watching her throw herself into the dance with abandon once she was sure Arador knew how this one went. She looked like she was having the time of her life, and something of the sparkle that had departed with her Scooby siblings was finally back.
Of course it is, she told him. This is a great party, and we didn’t even have to save the world first.
I don’t think having to save the world is such a regular thing here, he replied.
“Good,” Anariel grinned, as the dance threw them together. “Now, dance-off?”
“Prepare to lose,” he told her. “I still have several long-years more practice at this one than you do.”
“Bold words,” she said with a smirk. “Better back them up!”
Elladan raised an eyebrow at Arador.
“I suspect I’m outmatched,” the boy said. “What’s more, I believe the phrase is ‘my money is on her’.”
Anariel’s laugh lit up the circle around them, and at the cry of ‘a challenge!’ the drummers struck up a more demanding beat.
Tirion might not be so bad after all, she told him. Also, I’m totally going to win.