The Halls of Waiting

Hello

naurring — Wed, 10 Feb 2016 15:24:22 GMT

Hello! I'm still alive! Honestly I'm amazed you guys didn't all just defriend me by now, would certainly be understandable.
Been kind of secluding myself, it just starts to get really embarassing after a while if you're not getting done with studying etc, and have nothing interesting to talk about except for everything that annoys me these days. Nobody needs to here that constant whining.

My bachelor thesis is due next month, so definitely not studying anymore in April. No idea what's after that yet, perhaps I'll ask my aupair family from France, who's living in South Africa, now if I can make a loooong visit to put an officially English speaking country in my resume. And since I'll have a bachelor by then I can suddenly find jobs in China, or I nag my friend who's living there now if she can help me find something, mostly for the resume as well and for improving my chinese of course.

Speaking of my friend and her company... As I keep putting being social and writing posts off (see above), I took this opportunity to do just that, as she asked me to tell everybody about her kickstarter: it's a cute little apron that can be turned into a bumblebee cape, or a ladybug, jetpack or bumblebee one: the caperon. Link There's a button somewhere near the top for sharing it on facebook, as I've just learnt. And I made a tumblr post with my usually lurker only blog, in case anyone has that; or wants to share this at all. Link

Take care everybody! Hope you're all fine!

I'm Starbucks inventory!

naurring — Mon, 09 Jul 2012 10:10:41 GMT

At Starbucks, someone just mistook me for the waitress. 'No, sir, I don't want to bring you green tea, I just want to tell you you're sitting in my seat!'

If there's a sure sign I'm here far too often, this is it.

b2mem frying my brain

naurring — Fri, 02 Mar 2012 19:29:28 GMT

I just finished the last prompt of the first b2mem bingo number. There were 19 of them. And I did them all. Even the Dwarven one.

And it only gave me (let me count) 7 new stories. One is kind of finished and I'm even comtemplating posting it, but it's such a silly thing. 3 could be done with a little bit more work, though one will definitely never see the light of the day XD. With two, I have no idea what will become of them, but one of the bunnies is looking so intentionally innocent that it frightens me. This means I have managed to only create one stories that is going to be huge, and that's the murder myster I mentioned before.

There also is a new chapter for an existing WIP (unfortunately an unpublished one XD). Yay for that one.

My faithful spreadsheet tells me this are 7.818 words. (Whut?! Really?! That's like a 20% NaNo. I only managed 22k during the last one. What the hell?!)

So that was my first day. There are 30 more. 7 new stories times 31... Uh.

B2MeM

naurring — Thu, 01 Mar 2012 00:03:26 GMT

So looks like I got myself signed up for this year's Back to Middle Earth Month. I felt fairly certain that there was no way I would take part in it, due to muses being insanely dormant and having been for a while now, so there's no harm in having a look at the website, right? Yeah, sure. Took about the time it takes to read the rules and find the 'Languages of Arda' card to get me to sign up. *hangs head shamefully*

And suddenly I find myself making cards, and choosing cards, and now I'Ve got 45 of the things. The number with the most prompts has 21 prompts, for one day. I really do not have the slighest idea what I am thinking. :)

On the *other* hand... there are a lot prompts I could use for scenes of WIPs I have yet to write. And I actually have a sketchy idea for a story (that funnily enough emerged right before being pointed to the event. If that isn't a sign). What's more, I have another story all lined out in my head, and I love it, though it's pretty nerdy and horribly cheesy. On top of that, trying to pass some time until it starts today, I hopped over to oneword.com, and lo and behold, today's word produced a plot. A big one. A murder mystery. Which makes me squee, because I have been wanting to write a LOTR one for quite a while but never had any idea.

All in all, I think I'm pretty well prepared and with all those surprise plots lining up pretty excited. I haven't really been able to write anything for so long, this could turn out amazing. :)

First number should be drawn any minute now, and when it comes I'll be awaiting it with an empty word document, tea, and 15 prompts. :)

FFVII fic: "Payback has dyed hair"

naurring — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 20:01:53 GMT

I'm fumbling with my old and posted fics again, so have a ficlet.

Written ages ago in German for sphinxofthenile, but I kind of never got around to translate it (at least I couldn't find any existing version, tell me if I'm wrong).

Title: Payback has dyed hair
Rating: PG
Wörter: 160
Disclaimer: Nothing mine, all belongs to SquareEnix
Warnungen: None.
Summary: Payback is a bitch... And has dyed hair. :P
AN.: Not really betaed, but gothicdragon752 answered a few english related questions. Thanks. ^-^

----

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!”

The scream destroyed the silence of early morning, echoing from the walls of the yet empty house. Only seconds later an answering scream came up, a little further down the hallway, but as loud as the first one.

„AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!“

Doors were torn open in haste and two figures burst forth, panicked, to escape the horror of the rooms they had just left. Both men paused, staring at each other with an expression of pure panic that quickly turned into boiling anger and a deep desire for revenge.

"Cloud was bored again, uh?" Reno asked icily.

"I'll kill him," Sephiroth announced, grinding his teeth angrily whilst he stared at Reno and his snow white ponytail.

"No need to," Reno brought forth, gaze directed at Sephiroth's firy mane. "Who else but Cloud would dare to steal and hide Vincent's coat?"

A sparkle of evil appeared in Sephiroth's eyes. The two grinned at each other conspiratiorally before sneaking off together towards Vincent's chambers.

End

Lotr fic: "Expect the unexpected"

naurring — Sat, 19 Sep 2009 16:00:10 GMT

Title: Expect the Unexpected
Disclaimer: All is Tolkien's, nothing's mine
Betaed by: _ice_lady_
Word count: 3,647
Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: R
Warning: Nothing, actually.
Summary: Glorfindel realizes that he knows some people far less than he thought he did.
AN: If this is a repost, please excuse me, I checked but I couldn't find it anywhere. That's one of my lost fics, which I wrote on paper, put somewhere and didn't find again. Actually I was kind of sure I had already typed this one up, but I couldn't find the file again. Found the papers again yesterday. Naturally, I also found the file after that. On the second computer. that's so typical. XD Also, looks as if I already published this one before. Seems to have been written for the Slashy Santa 2007, promt being 'authors choice'. So well, there you have a 2 year old basically unposted fic of mine. Enjoy.

++++

„Erestor! Are you in there again?” Surprised Erestor lifted his head. His gaze fell on Glorfindel, who leaned against the doorway, arms crossed and shaking his head.

“As you can see,” the black haired elf answered, returning his attention to the letter he had been writing.

Glorfindel sighed and moved away from the door into the room. “One day you will fade, being always in the inside. Or the house will collapse and bury you.” He sat down on the desk, effectively keeping Erestor from writing.

“I doubt anybody is in reach to be even hit by a dust corn when the house collapses.” He tried to shove Glorfindel away with his arm, but the warrior had no intention to move and kept sitting where he was.

“Still,” he insisted, “it simply cannot be healthy for an elf to not go outside. Always you are sitting in your study, working, and if not, you teach the children. When was the last time you visited the gardens, Erestor? A month ago?”

Erestor briefly considered the question. “Perhaps two.” He didn’t tell Glorfindel that he had been swimming in one of the great pools the waterfalls created just the other night. That was not what Glorfindel had been asking for, after all.

“See?” Glorfindel stated triumphantly. “Erestor, you need to go outside!” Firmly he plucked the quill out of the advisor’s hand and took the letter away from him. “We will go outside now. We could walk in the gardens. Or at the Bruinen. Or we could go to the training fields and spar!”

Erestor laughed dryly, reaching out to take the quill back. “Surely not!”

“Why?” Swiftly Glorfindel moved the quill out of Erestor’s reach. “Don’t you know how to wield a sword?” He paused a moment. “I suppose not. You’ve never done anything else than being an advisor, haven’t you?”

“You think too low of me, Glorfindel. Or too high of yourself. Of course I know how to fight.” Erestor reached for a bundle of papers and began looking through them, now that his letter was out of reach.

“Then I don’t see your problem. If you know how to fight, you can spar with me!”

“Glorfindel, believe me, you don’t really want me to do that.”

“I will be careful; you don’t have to fear being wounded.”

Erestor sighed and put the papers in his hands down. “I don’t fear being hurt, I fear that *you* will be hurt!”

Glorfindel’s laughter echoed in the room. “You are afraid that you will wound me?” Slowly he calmed down, a chuckle occasionally breaking forth. “I doubt that you would even have the slightest chance against me. Let alone beating and wounding me!”

A dangerous smile appeared on the advisor’s face. “I would not be so sure of that. You would be surprised by the outcome.”

The broad grin on Glorfindel’s features vanished abruptly. “Prove it.”

“What?”

“Prove it. You say that your fighting skills outlast even mine, who has slain a Balrog. Prove it to me.”

Erestor’s eyes twinkled dangerously. “Is that a challenge?”

“It is,” confirmed the blond warrior. “And after you have lost against me, you have to be my servant for a whole day, as a punishment for your haughtiness.”

Erestor’s expression was a bit unnerving, but he paid no attention to it. “And if I win you will do the same for me?” he asked carefully.

“If you win or even manage to stand your ground against me for some minutes, I will do whatever you want for one day.”

“Agreed. This afternoon, then?”

Glorfindel was surprised how quickly Erestor had given in. He felt the joy of his victory well up inside of him and jumped up from the desk.

Erestor reached for his letter and quill which Glorfindel had left on the desk and started writing again.

“I see you in the afternoon, then,” the blond repeated, already at the door. “I’ll wait for you on the training fields. Don’t you dare to back down.”

Erestor shook his head over Glorfindel’s enthusiasm. He was so sure of his victory. Well, he would be very surprised.

++++

Grinning Erestor knelt on the floor, rummaging through a big chest. He was nearly as excited as Arwen, when the child was presented with a cake. The comparison was not that bad, after all he would get a most delicious sweet as well.

“There you are,” Erestor whispered lovingly when he finally found what he had been looking for, lifting a bright elvish blade out of the chest. He closed the lid again and rose to take care of the sword. Carefully he unwrapped the clothes protecting the blade, gently polishing it. It seemed to have been ages ago that he had last looked at the sword, but it were definitely decades.

Erestor had no scabbard for the sword; it had been lost together with the weapon the last time he had fought in a war. The blade had been found later on the battlefield – a warrior had recognized the inscriptions and brought it back to him – and the dark haired elf was very thankful for that. He loved his sword dearly and many a time had it saved his life.

And today it would, once again, show his invaluable worth and bring the blond warrior to his bed.

Gently Erestor laid the sword down on a table and turned to his bed to make it ready for his prize. He fetched the finest and softest sheets, placed a variety of oils on his nightstand and also laid out a few clothes and ribbons, just in case his prize needed a little persuasion to stay in his bed.

He felt nearly a bit sorry for his friend. Glorfindel was far too innocent for his own good and probably wouldn’t have thought of sex as a reward even when Erestor had stood naked and aroused in front of him.

Erestor just hoped that he was not *too* innocent for he really did not want to deflower the blond. What a first time would that be?

No, if Glorfindel really did not want to sleep with him, he would ask something else from him. But he counted on the fact that Glorfindel had sex now and then and would keep his promise.

Finishing his preparations, Erestor picked up his sword again and left the room for the training fields.

++++

Patiently Glorfindel waited on the training grounds. With the elegance of an elven warrior he moved over the ground, swinging his sword. He had to practice a bit before their fight. After all, Erestor was very inexperienced and he didn’t want to hurt him, so he had to adjust his strokes.

He felt a bit guilty for making Erestor lose but he was glad the advisor finally went out. All he did was sitting in his office and work. No matter when Glorfindel looked in on him, he was always slouched over some letters or documents. He really needed this fight.

Whilst practicing his fighting style, he thought about what he would do with Erestor for the one day. Perhaps he could let him do his paperwork; that was something the advisor was really skilled in. On the other hand, Erestor would probably love it and be inside again. A ride to the Bruinen perhaps, and a nice picnic there. Yes, that sounded good.

He stopped in his practice when he saw the figure of an elf advancing on him out of the corner of his eyes. He turned around and waved in welcome, recognizing his friend. “Good afternoon, Erestor,” he greeted him. He studied his friend who was for once not clad in one of his robes but in leggings and a tunic. He had to admit that Erestor really had lovely legs. Hidden under the robes he had never noticed before.

“Here,” he said, picking something up from the edge of the training field. “I brought you a sword.” The slender blade bore visible signs of use and was by far not as beautiful and magnificent as Erestor’s own sword.

Smiling Erestor shook his head and Glorfindel let the arm with the sword sink to his side, confused. “I don’t need it,” the advisor replied.

Glorfindel’s gaze fell upon the weapon at Erestor’s side, his eyes widening at the sight.

“Where did you get that from? Whose sword is it?” The blond dropped the superfluous blade and reached out to take the sword Erestor held in his hand. Smiling the dark haired elf handed it over to him and watched as Glorfindel studied and examined the splendid blade.

“That’s a masterpiece!” Glorfindel was astonished. “Rarely have I seen such a magnificent sword! And the inscription! It is as delicate as if it was drawn with a quill! It’s really old, isn’t it?” he whispered in wonder. “Now tell me, whom does it belong to?”

Pleased, Erestor had watched how the warrior caressed the shiny blade. Glorfindel hadn’t expected that. He had thought that the advisor had never even seen a sword in his whole life and now Erestor turned up with a weapon as masterly crafted as one could wish for. His confidence in his own and in Erestor’s apparently nonexistent skills already swayed a little. Erestor couldn’t hide his broad grin. This was going to be a lot of fun.

“It is my sword.” Carefully he took it back, looking lovingly at the blade. “Celebrimbor himself wrought it a long time ago.” The blond’s eyes nearly bulged from their sockets.

“*Yours*?” He wouldn’t have been surprised to hear that Erestor kept a goat in his room or had been a woman once. But that he actually owned a *sword*? By all means, Erestor? And even one made by Celebrimbor?

“Sure. It is a very good sword.” Gently Erestor caressed the blade with the tip of one finger, cutting himself in the process. He watched how Glorfindel flinched when the small wound opened and blood welled forth. “It has often proven its worth and been of much service. Many a battle have we fought together.”

Glorfindel’s proud form had slumped visibly and he stared uneasily at his opponent, whom he had assumed to be helpless and who now stood with such a formidable blade. He saw his picnic moving into far distance.

“You fought in a battle?” he asked weakly.

“I did,” confirmed the former warrior. “I settled down to being an advisor after the Last Alliance. Seeing Gil-galad burn to death has somewhat weakened my wish to fight.”

Erestor had really fought. In the front line. What on Arda had he gotten himself into?

“Well.” Abruptly, Erestor lowered his sword. “Shall we begin to spar now? I’m not here to talk. That we can do in my room afterwards.”

Glorfindel involuntarily straightened his back and tightened his grip on his own sword. “But of course.” He swallowed hard, glancing at Erestor’s gleaming blade, whilst they moved in position. Erestor’s weapon was much sharper than his own sword and presented a danger that was not to be underestimated. And he knew nothing about his opponent’s fighting skills and style.

He didn’t have much time to think about this, though, for Erestor didn’t lose any time, attacking him. Glorfindel had just enough time to jerk his sword up to block Erestor’s stroke, stumbling back, surprised at the force with which the advisor handled the weapon.

Soon, he realized that Erestor was a worthy opponent, his fighting skills equalling the blond’s own. For several minutes the two elves moved over the training field, the sounds of their swords meeting with a loud clattering echoing over the field.

Erestor enjoyed himself immensely. He had completely forgotten how good it felt to hold a sword in hand and to fight with it. He held himself back a bit, as he didn’t want Glorfindel to lose in the first seconds and to see that he didn’t stand a chance. He watched how the blond moved, studied the elegant curves of his body. They both had shed shirts before starting the fight and he had perfect view of the blond’s muscular chest. Tiny drops of sweat clung to the smooth skin and the rosy nipples looked most tempting.

Erestor decided to end the fight. They could play this game for hours, but he didn’t want to wait that long. He wanted his prize now.

Glorfindel suddenly found himself lying flat on his back with Erestor’s foot on his chest and the tip of his sword at his throat. Stunned, he looked at the shiny metal.

“I think I won, didn’t I?” Erestor asked with a grin

The warrior’s eyes slowly moved up to look at his face, the wonder and disbelief clearly visible in them.

Erestor took his foot and sword away and reached to Glorfindel, offering to help him up.

Slowly the blond sat up and accepted his friend’s hand. Quickly he was pulled to his feet.

Erestor had a broad grin on his face and looked rather pleased.

“You beat me,” Glorfindel murmured, still trying to understand that this had really happened.

“I did,” the dark haired elf confirmed. “Now, Glorfindel.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking strictly at the warrior. “Are you going to keep your promise? You will do everything I ask of you for a whole day?”

Glorfindel shook his head. This simply couldn’t be. Erestor had really beaten him. How on Arda did that happen? The advisor raised an eyebrow and Glorfindel realized that he had accidentally answered his question.

“Of course,” he hastily replied. “I’ll do as you ask. When does the day begin?” Inwardly, he could have throttled Erestor. Or rather himself. There was nobody in Imladris who could beat him in a fight. Probably not even in Lórien or Mirkwood – at least he loved to think so. And now this advisor, who never set a foot outside and hadn’t held a sword in decades, came along and beat him without any effort?

“Now,” Erestor stated and motioned for Glorfindel to follow him. “You will really do what I ask of you? Anything? Without complaint?”

“I won’t jump of the top of the waterfall or anything like that. But, yes, Erestor, I’ll really do it. I said so before the fight and usually I keep my promises.”

He didn’t like the smirk on the others face one bit upon hearing this. “Good. Very good.”

Glorfindel’s worry grew. Why was Erestor so pleased to hear this? “Erestor,” he carefully asked. “What exactly do you want me to do?”

“You’ll see soon enough.”

Great. Just great. This answer was really helpful. He did as he was told and followed Erestor through the house. He soon realized that they were heading for the advisor’s room.

Erestor was all mysterious silence, walking quietly through the corridors. Inwardly, he felt extremely satisfied that his prey had gone into his net and he couldn’t wait to reach his chamber and waited for Glorfindel until he entered himself, closing the door behind him. As soon as the blond stepped inside he ordered, “Strip.”

The warrior turned to him, eyes big with disbelief. “I beg your pardon?”

“Strip,” Erestor repeated. He placed his sword on a board and waited for Glorfindel to follow his order.

Glorfindel’s gaze fell on the bed and suddenly he knew what Erestor had in mind. “Erestor!” he exclaimed. “You can’t be serious!”

“I am,” the dark haired elf replied. “And you better strip now or I’ll do it myself. Or have you reconsidered and want do back away from your promise?”

Glorfindel’s eyes flickered between the big bed and Erestor. He really wanted him to sleep with him. How in Arda had he gotten himself into this? At first he wanted to scream ‘Yes, yes, I have reconsidered!’ But that would mean to break his promise. The thought of having to sleep with Erestor made him slightly uneasy. He had never suspected that Erestor might want something like that.

Studying Erestor, Glorfindel had to admit that his friend was very fair of face, though. He had never thought of Erestor in that way but the longer he did now, the more he had to admit that it was not the worst thing to sleep with the advisor. Slowly he started to strip until he stood naked in front of Erestor.

Erestor seemed to like what he saw, his gaze swept over the blond’s body and a pleased smile adorned his face. “Lay down on the bed,” he ordered.

Glorfindel turned to do as he was told. He had just leaned back against the pillows when Erestor crawled into bed with him, absolutely naked. The advisor reached over his soon-to-be lover, retrieving a red piece of cloth from the nightstand. “Give me your hands.”

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow, but still extended his hands obediently. In one swift motion, they were tied together and bound to the bed over his head. “Want to make sure I don’t escape?”

Erestor grinned at him, wrapping the cloth one last time around the headboard. “Of course. I don’t want to take any risk.” He leaned down to the blond and pressed a kiss onto his lips, gently biting into his lower lip. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you.”

Glorfindel lay completely still as Erestor started to explore his body. Gently he ran his hands over the smooth chest, further down his legs and up his arms.

The warrior moaned softly when his friend started kneading one of his nipples, biting and sucking the other. Erestor’s free hand stroked over his thigh, lightly scraping the skin there with his fingernails. A sharp yelp left Glorfindel’s lips when slender fingers suddenly touched his awakening arousal. “Erestor,” he whispered hoarsely.

Erestor’s mouth released the hard nub that was Glorfindel’s nipple, biting, licking and kissing his way up to the blond’s mouth. “Now,” he whispered against his lips, gently licking over them. “Not so bad after all, is it?”

All Glorfindel could do was moan loudly. The hand caressing his member felt simply too good. He eagerly returned the kiss that was bestowed onto his lips, the hand formerly massaging his nipple now tangled in his hair, one of the fingers stroking over the tip of his ear.

Erestor was most pleased with the effect he had on the blond. Glorfindel was moaning and writhing beneath him, though he had been so reluctant in the beginning. The advisor spread his prey’s legs, licking his way down the muscular body.

The warrior cried out in ecstasy when a skilled tongue caressed the tip of his member. With expert movements, Erestor licked over the length, taking it deep into his throat, his hands massaging thighs and balls. Glorfindel didn’t notice what was happening when Erestor reached for the nightstand until he felt the tip of a finger press against the entrance to his body. His head jerked but the finger had already pushed inside, slippery with oil.

“What are you doing?” he asked Erestor, eyes fixed on the hand that vanished between his legs.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Erestor said with a grin. He wriggled the finger inside the blond’s body, letting him feel it. “I’m going to fuck you.”

“I never agreed to that!” Glorfindel exclaimed, tugging breathlessly at his bonds.

Erestor chuckled. “You agreed to go to bed with me. What did you think would happen here?”

Glorfindel snorted. Of course Erestor was right. How stupid of him not to assume it in the first place. It was not as if he had never had sex in that way before.

Erestor did not waste any time. Whilst he licked at Glorfindel’s member, he quickly prepared his lover. Coating his own arousal with the oil, he positioned himself so that his penis touched the small hole. Glorfindel glared at him whilst Erestor grinned down at him before shoving inside.

Glorfindel let out a small cry when the advisor’s member suddenly filled him. Soon the gentle caresses to his body returned and it wasn’t long until he was moaning again. Giving one last bite to an erect nipple Erestor moved up to claim the blond’s lips shoving himself deep into the warm body beneath him.

He grinned again when Glorfindel let out a loud yelp, arching slightly from the bed. Erestor thrust again, expertly hitting the other’s prostrate. Quick and hard he drove himself into the blond, quickly bringing them both towards orgasm.

Glorfindel moaned loudly when his seed spilled onto the sheets and over the skin of his and Erestor’s stomach. Panting, both of them lay on the bed, slowly recovering from their small encounter.

Erestor pushed himself onto one elbow, brushing a damps strand of raven hair out of his face. “Now,” he said, grinning down at Glorfindel. “That wasn’t that bad at all, was it?”

“It was bearable,” Glorfindel mumbled in reply. “Barely.” Erestor laughed and got out of bed to clean himself. “Will you untie me now?” Demonstratively he pulled at his bonds.

Erestor stopped in the doorway to the bathroom, grinning at him. “I have a whole day with you. Do you really think that I will already release you? I’ve still got much more to do with you.” With that, he vanished in the bathroom.

Groaning, Glorfindel let his head fall onto the bed. He had a whole day of this ahead of him.

He was so going to love this day.

++++

End

Fanfiction master list

naurring — Sun, 16 Aug 2009 11:31:18 GMT

This list should contain links to all the fics and stories I've published, if I haven't forgotten anything.

How to read the info: Fic name plus link(s) - word count - Rating - Pairing - complete or not

----

Lord of the Rings - Final Fantasy VII - A Strange Place in Time - Original stories

----

Lord of the Rings - 45,161 words

A welcome guest - 2960 words - PG13 - Rúmil/Melpomaen - complete!
Desire - 969 words - PG - NA - complete!
Glorfindel, the great warrior - 1506 words - PG-13 - NA - complete!
I've always loved you - 4486 words - PG13 - Feanor/Fingon - complete!
Just this moment - 673 words - PG13 - Elrond/Glorfindel - complete!
Open your eyes - 2321 words - PG13 - Erestor/Glorfindel - complete!
Shell - 1062 words - PG13 - Ecthelion/Erestor - complete!
You Are Not Alone - 2094 words- PG13 - Elrond/Erestor - complete!

April Fool - Chapter 1 - 2 - 3 - 3279 words - PG13 - Glorfindel/?, Lindir/? - WIP
Child of the Wilderness - Chapter 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 9116 words - PG13 - Erestor/Glorfindel - WIP
Flower in the Sand - Chapter 1 - 2 - 2702 words - PG13 - ?/? - WIP
Soothing You - Chapter 1 - 2 - 3 - 5613 words - PG13 - ?/? - WIP
Waiting on the Battlefield - Chapter 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 8380 words - PG-13 - Erestor/Glorfindel - WIP

In German - 28946 words
Glorfindel, der große Krieger - 1546 words - PG13 - NA - complete!
Temptation - 1802 words - G - NA - complete!
Du bist nicht allein - 2106 words - PG13 - Elrond/Erestor - complete!
Der Schrecken des Düsterwalds - Prolog - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - Epilog - 19385 words - PG13 - NA - complete!
Desire - 1039 words - PG - NA - complete!
Ein willkommener Gast - 3068 words - PG13 - Rúmil/Melpomaen - complete!

Final Fantasy VII - 18916 words

Eat meat! No torturing the vegetables! - 769 words - G - NA - complete!
Flying with the stars - 423 words - PG - Cid/Vincent - complete!
If you mess with the wolf... - 714 words - PG13 - Rude/Tseng - complete!
In Vacuo reloaded - 302 words - PG13 - Cloud/Fenrir - complete!
Lock the door? Why? - 229 words - R - Nanaki/Reno - complete!
Mirror, mirror on the wall... - 786 words - PG - NA - complete!
Natural white (?) - 420 words - PG13 - Reeve/Sephiroth (implied) - complete!
Nightmare - 8149 words - R - Cid/Vincent - complete!
NOT an ordinary day - 308 words - PG13 - Reno/Rude - complete!
Payback has dyed hair - 160 words - PG - NA - complete!
Psst - 324 words - G - NA - complete!
Rude reno cooking plate - 227 words - PG13 - Reno/Rude - complete!
Sensei - 314 words - PG13 - Rude/Tseng - complete!
Surprise, surprise - words - PG12 - Reno/Rude - complete!
The art of politeness - 136 words - G - NA - complete!
The Chocolate Incident - 3236 words - PG - Cid/Vincent, if you look very very closely. You should bring a magnifying glass, though. - complete!
Want to see my snake? - 524 words - PG13 - Reno/Rude - complete!
Why Rufus has people to think for him - 906 words - PG13 - Rude/Rufus implied - complete!

Screaming - Blood (dual drabble)- 475/444 words - PG13 - NA - complete!

In German - 158 words
Rache ist süß - 158 words - PG - NA - complete!

A Strange Place in Time - 1147 words

Purest White, Deepest Black - 1147 words - G - Just canon pairings - complete!

Original - 48194 words

Amy und Jacob - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30 - 31 - 32 - 33 - 34 - 35 - 37 - 38 - 46784 words - NA - NA - WIP
Excerpt from a yet untitled story - 1410 words - NA - NA - WIP

A total of
142,522 words

FFVII ficlet: "Mirror, mirror on the wall...

naurring — Sat, 21 Mar 2009 14:32:30 GMT

Title: Mirror, mirror on the wall... Who is the sparkliest of all?
Author: Me, Naur
Disclaimer: Nothing mine
Summary: Vincent finally looks into a mirror... and makes a discovery...
Warnings: AU, crack. Did I say crack? No, not crackers. Crack. No, not drugs. But you should still be afraid. These warnings alone should be warning enough of what mood this ficlet has been written in.
AN: Ice's fault. As always. If you don't get the sparkly allusion, the better for you. Trust me. Cause it comes with unicorns...

----

Rufus raised an eyebrow as Vincent trudged into the room, looking all the way the dead person he was. A thud echoed through the room as he let himself fall to his knees in front of Rufus, sinking forward to have his face plop down into Rufus lap, sobbing loudly.

Rufus automatically raised a hand to stroke the shaking head, grimacing a second later as his fingers instantly got stuck into the tangled mass that Vincent called hair. "Vincent?"

Vincent produced a strange pitched sob that could have been an answer.

"Would you deign to tell me what is wrong and why you are staining my new coat?" He tried to wiggle his fingers out of the mass without tearing too hard and drawing Vincent's attention to his plight. He paused in his efforts, staring at his trapped hand for a moment, before slowly, carefully reaching towards a drawer of his desk with his free hand, eyes fixed on Vincent to make sure he wouldn't just raise his head and see what he was up too.

"I am doomed," Vincent sobbed, moving his head slightly and making Rufus freeze, hoping with all his heart that Vincent had not just wiped his nose on his coat. "I am doomed, for all eternity and beyond!"

"Is that so?" Rufus hand had reached the drawer and was opening it, taking a small scissor out of it and starting the perilious journey back towards Vincent's hair.

"Doomed!" Vincent sobbed, lifting one fist and bringing it down onto Rufus' knee in desperation, making him nearly cut off the whole huge strand of hair as he was trying to carefully cut open the hair that was tangled around his fingers. "I can never show my face again! People will hate me, haunt me! I am doomed!"

"Ah," Rufus agreed, smiling triumphantly as his thumb broke free, followed shortly by a second finger. He tried to ignore the long tendrils of cut hair that were floating down to the ground.

"Would you care to inform me why exactly or do you just want me to nod understandingly until you are finished with this?"

Vincent completely failed to notice the edge in Rufus' words, continuing to cry on Rufus coat.

Great, he could already feel it wet on his skin, That meant the pants were soaked as well. Rufus grimaced at the thought, cutting even more ferocious into Vincent's hair as revenge.

"I..." Vincent started, stopping instantly as sobs shook him.

"Damn," Rufus hissed, as the movement caused him to knick his finger instead of cutting into the hair. Those scissors were sharp indeed.

"I just found out..." Vincent heald his breath for a second, before whispering in a horror filled voice. "It is so terrible. I cannot say it."

"Yessssss," Rufus hissed in triumph as his hand fell free, quickly hiding the scissors in the drawer. "You don't need to say it, if you don't want to," he turned back to Vincent, reaching for a band-aid to wrap around his injured finger. "I won't force you."

"I found out..." Vincent fell silent again for a moment, lying motionless in Rufus' lap.

"Gods, Rufus, I'm a vampire!" he suddenly screamed, shooting upright, making Rufus fall backwards in his chair and nearly falling over, the band-aid falling out of his fingers in the process and sticking in his hair, instead on his finger.

Rufus stared at Vincent for a moment in shock about the outbreak, before catching himself. "A vampire?"

"Yes!" Vincent wailed, letting his head hang down in grief.

"Well, that's... great?" Rufus tried, vainlessly trying to get the band-aid out of his hair.

"No, it's not," Vincent mumbled morosely. "I am doomed. Everybody will fear me."

"Don't worry," Rufus soothed him, staring at the band-aid with an annoyed expression before reaching for the scissors once more. "If they didn't fear you already, they won't now."

Vincent shook his head in internal grief. "I don't want to hurt people," he whispered.

"How did you find out?" Rufus asked, flipping the band-aid into the waste bin with a superior grin. "Did you attack someone? I hope it wasn't Rude, nobody gets my plants as green as him."

Vincent shook his head. "No. Everybody is fine. It's just..." He took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "Oh, Rufus, look!"

He got up from the ground, walking over to a big closet that held a secret full sized mirror Rufus had let been built in so he could have something beautiful to look at during the long hours of hard work. He took a deep breath, opening the door and standing in front of it.

"I sparkle," he whispered sadly, gazing down at the floor.

end for now and for your sake hopefully forever

FFVII ficlet: "If you mess with the wolf..."

naurring — Sat, 31 Jan 2009 15:25:39 GMT

Title: If you mess with the wolf...
Author: Me, obviously. Naurring
Disclaimer: Nothing mine, all Sqaure Enix or whoever it belongs to
Rating: PG
Warning: AU, naturally
Pairing: Rude/Tseng
Summary: Rufus had a sleepless night. Now to solve the problem...
AN: _ice_lady_ said she wanted Tseng/Rude porn. Needed. With someone being fucked into the matress. Well my dear, your wish is my command. :D

++++

Rufus leafed through the papers in front of him, lifting one after the other to stare at it before putting it down again, to take it once more a moment later, a grave expression on his face, as if he was fighting an internal battle.

“Tseng,” he finally addressed the two figures standing silently in front of his desk. His voice was grave and sad, the name coming out as barely more than a deep sigh.

“Sir?” Tseng replied calmly.

Rufus looked up, letting his gaze sweep over Tseng and Rude, looking clearly uncomfortable with whatever he had to say. “I have your medical report here.”

A breath of worry started to rise in Tseng. The medical examinations where done on a regular basis, but usually they weren’t mentioned at all, if nothing was amiss. For Rufus to have ordered him to his office to talk about the results couldn’t mean anything good for him.

“I asked Rude to accompany you because I know it concerns him too,” Rufus continued, casting a nearly apologizing glance at Rude for what he had to say. There was nothing to see behind the dark sunglasses; but Tseng clearly was in a state of alarm, muscles tense and standing even straighter than usual.

“I…” Rufus paused for a moment, just for the effect, collecting his mind and energy before continuing. “I hate to say this to you, but…” He stopped, lifting the papers of Tseng’s medical report again, looking at them once more, as if staring at them long enough would change the results. “I fear it is quite clear…”

“What is it?!” Tseng asked, his voice carrying just an edge of fear, clearly impatient and uncomfortable.

Rufus sighed deeply, slowly shaking his head as he studied the papers, then he abruptly put them down, looking at Tseng. “Tseng, this report says you’re pregnant.”

Silence filled the room. Tseng didn’t move, clearly taken aback. “Pregnant?”

Rufus face twisted in painful sympathy, watching his Turks. “I fear the report is quite clear on this.”

“Sir, how can I be… pregnant,” Tseng asked, feeling a strange reluctance against the word. “I am no woman.”

Rufus sighed deeply, his expression growing even more pained and uncomfortable. “Well, you know… We always knew about the possibility of side effects of the treatments you were subjected to.”

“But you said there weren’t any,” Rude said now, a sharp edge to his voice.

“I said that we didn’t *know* of any.” Rufus paused for a few seconds. “Now, it seems, we do.”

He watched Tseng carefully, seeing his throat move as he swallowed hard.

“Are you sure, sir?” Tseng asked, his voice slightly strained.

Rufus nodded quietly.

“And… what about me, sir?” Rude carefully asked.

“You?” Rufus looked at him surprised, as if he didn’t know what Rude could possibly think.

“You ordered me to come as well.”

“I did,” Rufus agreed. “I thought you needed to hear this as well.”

“So I am pregnant too?” Rude’s voice was calm, but Rufus knew him well enough to know that internally, it would look different.

“Pregnant?” For a moment he stared at Rude, seemingly surprised, until realization dawned. “Oh no. You aren’t. I wanted you to be here, because Tseng and you…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t have to. He saw the two of them exchanging glances as they realized they had suddenly gone from lovers to soon-to-be parents.

“Is… there anything else?” Tseng asked as refined as he could.

Rufus shook his head. “This is the only thing you needed to know.”

Tseng slightly inclined his head towards his boss. “Thank you, sir.”

Rufus answered the gesture, watching the two Turks turn around and leave the room.

He waited for a few moments to be certain they wouldn’t return immediately before he allowed his expression to slip. He grinned evilly. They wouldn’t be of much use for the next few days, trying to come to term with the new situation, but that was worth it. He would let them talk and rack their brains about the pregnancy for a few days until he told them that Tseng’s medical report had ‘accidently’ been swapped with another’s report.

That would teach them keeping him awake all night long with their screams and moans.

++++

FFVII dual drabble: 'Screaming', 'Blood'

naurring — Wed, 07 Jan 2009 18:10:50 GMT

This is something I'm just going to call a dual drabbel. It's two drabbles, but one without the other probably doesn't make much sense.

Title: Screaming
Disclaimer: Not mine
Rating: PG-13
Warning: none really for this one
AN: I don't know anything about the time where this stuff plays. Ice said that Veld was there at that time. So if it's wrong, blame her.

The lab was clean and orderly, polished surfaces glistening, screens working busily. “It seems as if everything is going well,” Veld remarked, eyes roaming over the scenery.

“Oh perfectly well,” Hojo agreed, trying to smile reassuringly, which resulted in an expression that made him look just too much a crazy scientist. “As you clearly see.”

Veld nodded absentmindedly. “People are worried,” he said slowly. “There are rumours. Rumours about screams… emanating from your lab. But whenever anybody goes to investigate, the doors are locked.”

Hojo laughed dryly. “The imagination of bored guards knows no bounds. Surely you can’t reproach me for locking the doors from time to time. I can’t do my work properly when I need to expect people walking in all the time.”

Veld nodded slowly, studying Hojo closely. “They come up with outrageous things sometimes. And people are still on edge because Valentine vanished. Did you know that people claim he has been murdered? His body hidden?”

“Oh! Yes. Yes, I heard of this.” Hojo laughed, a hard uncomfortable sound. “Where they take these things from, one wonders. There’s not even evidence for this, none at all.”

“No,” Veld agreed. “There isn’t.”

He let his gaze roam over the room once more, but as closely as he looked, there was nothing suspicious here. It looked just like a normal lab. “Well, I think I’ll leave you to your work then, Professor Hojo,” he said, reluctantly.

“Oh yes. Thank you. I should really return to my work. It is never good to interrupt it for too long.” The triumphant gleam that appeared in the man’s eyes made Veld hesitate another moment, looking at him.

His gaze fell on something on Hojo’s coat and he narrowed his eyes, staring at it. “Did you hurt yourself, professor?” he asked.

“What?” Hojo followed the gaze, hands moving over his coat with nearly panicked quickness.

“There’s some blood.” Veld pointed to a bloody stain on the collar of the coat.

“Oh. Oh! This!” Hojo frantically pulled at the garment, apparently not being able to decide if he wanted to hide the spot or just pull it into the correct position. “This is… oh… it is nothing. It… it is my blood! I needed it for research… That’s all.” The last word were firm again and Hojo looked at Veld once more with a confident expression. After all, it was him who was the scientist and he didn’t owe any kind of explanation to Ve.d what he was doing.

“I see.” Veld stared at the spot a moment longer, than he nodded slowly. No matter what people might suspect and what his own intuition might be telling him, there didn’t seem to be anythong wrong here. He nodded towards Hojo. “Good day, then, professor.” He turned around, leaving the room, not seeing the triumphant expression on Hojo’s face.

------------

Title: Blood
Disclaimer: Not mine
Rating: PG-13, or R, dunno
Warning: violence, blood
AN: I don't know anything about the time where this stuff plays. Ice said that Veld was there at that time. So if it's wrong, blame her.

“By the Ancients.” The words hung in the air like a poisonous cloud that was sinking down to cover those standing in the room, filling them with horror, as if only hearing the words made things real and as if everything would have just faded away had they just turned and walked away. But saying and hearing these words meant achknowleding what they saw and made it all too real.

The guards had hurried down the moment the alarm had been given, but even they hadn’t been able to arrive in time.

The laboratory was a mess. Nothing in the room had been spared.

Furnitue, instruments, computers, everything was scattered in the room, torn into pieces. Computer screens were blank, just one was glowing from time to time in a desperate struggle for life until it gave in as well.

But the most impressive thing was the hole in the wall, the ripped out door lying on the floor. They just stared at it, the only sound in the room the occasional spark from torn out electricity. Slowly, carefully, they edged forward, weapons held at attention, ready to fire on whoever or whatever had done this, towards the formerly hidden doorway, where there had only been seamless walls before. They stopped a few steps into the room, a thick silence spreading once more that said more than thousand words.

“Where is Hojo?” Veld snarled, nudging his way past the guards at the door. “What has happened in there?” He pushed two of the guards out of his way, stepping forward to see what they had discovered, staring in horror.

The whole room was covered in blood.

In here the destruction was even worse than in the first room. Nothing had stayed whole.

In the midst of it all lay the broken body of Shinra’s most famous scientist in a pool of blood, barely recognizable save for the badge clinging to his coat.

One of the guards turned around and vomited.

The others just stood there, slowly taking in the contents of the room, trying to understand what they saw.

There was a metal table, straps hanging from it. It was covered in dried blood, as well as the floor around it. Operation tools were scattered in all of the room, scalpels, thongs… Papers were were covering the floor, some of them torn into shreds, others still recognizable. Veld bent town to pick some sheet up, staring in horror at the papers, showing gruesome drawings of human bodies mutilated and broken. Some had parts of them missing and reattached in other places, organs adjusted, metal constructions implanted…

“Oh Ancient,” Veld whispered. “What has he done?”

FF VII ficlet: "Sensei"

naurring — Sat, 06 Dec 2008 19:43:16 GMT

Title: Sensei
Words: 314
Disclaimer: ||: Not mine. :||
Rating: PG
Summary: Japanese lessons of a special kind...
AN: This is the fault of _ice_lady_'s boyfriend. It doesn't matter he doesn't know or that I've never met him, it so is. :P And don't ask me why Tseng is Japanese and the rests not, I've got no idea.

++++

Rude knew what was expecting him behind the door even before he pushed it open to enter, and he was not mistaken. Closing the door behind him he felt Tseng creeping up on him, pulling him close and tearing at his necktie to nuzzle his neck.

“Hello to you too.”

Tseng murmured something unintelligible in reply and for some moments they just stood together, kissing and nuzzling each other.

„Reno has asked my where I learned Japanese.“ Rude spoke into the silence.

Tseng paused, looking at him in surprise. “You speak Japanese?”

Rude chuckled softly. “Sure, I do. You have been a quite thorough teacher. Though I guess my skills wouldn’t be suitable for any public setting.”

Tseng frowned at him, confused. “What do you mean? I never taught you any Japanese.”

Rude couldn’t help but grin at his lover. “Oh trust me, you did. You say all kinds of things when we’re… alone.” He let his hand tug the hem of Tseng’s shirt out of his pants, sliding it under the fabric, marking his words.

Tseng frowned at him for another moment, then a shy blush started creeping into his face as he made the connection. “I… do?”

“Oh yes. And you sometimes you aren’t exactly silent about it. It’s a good thing only I have the context to go with the words or everybody else would understand as much Japanese as I do by now."

“You are serious?” Tseng chuckled softly, looking slightly embarrassed. “I didn’t know.”

Chuckling softly Rude leaned in for another kiss, holding Tseng close, but Tseng pulled away once more after a moment..

He stared at Rude, calculating, narrowing his eyes. “So… you speak dirty Japanese, uh?”

Rude grinned, leaning closer to murmur into Tseng’s ear; “Want me to show you… sensei?”

Tseng grinned back at him, loosening his own necktie and pulling Rude away to the bedroom.

++++

FF VII fic: "The art of politeness"

naurring — Sat, 06 Dec 2008 16:58:11 GMT

Title: The art of politeness
Words: 136
Disclaimer: Watashi no ja arimasen. That should make it clear. :P
Rating: G
Summary: It's training time...
AN: It is both hilarious and traumatizing to see your Japanese teacher jump into a gun holding stance all of a sudden and scream "Shinde kudasai!" at you. At least we're all good with te-forms now. :P

Reno jumped out of his hiding place, his gun aimed at his opponent. "Shinde kudasai!" His scream echoed through the hall, throwing his own words back at him.

Tseng stopped, staring at Reno in a mixture of shock and amused amazement. "Shinde kudasai? Please die?! "

"Err..." Reno swallowed hard, moving out of his killing stance, looking slightly embarrassed at his training partner. "I was just trying to adapt to the situation… So as you’re Japanese…”

"Well, that’s not a bad idea. But I dare say like this your opponent will only die from laughing." Tseng shook his head, now grinning openly. "Do you really think it necessary to say 'please' in a situation like this?"

"Well, I kinda thought you can never be too polite in Japanese..." Reno mumbled, blushing as Tseng burst out laughing.

++++

FFVII fic= "Flying with the stars"

naurring — Tue, 02 Dec 2008 10:27:39 GMT

Title: Flying with the stars
Words: 423
Disclaimer: No matter how many times you'll continue to ask me, it's still not mine. My mind's not *that* twisted.
Pairing: Cid/Vincent (Or Vincent/Cid, no idea, I've never watched them :P)
Rating: PG
Summary: Vincent attempts to show his romantic streak...
AN: I'm innocent. If you wanna blame someone blame animama, I'Ve got the feeling that she did an awful lot of pics with flying couples these last times. One has to get strange ideas with that...

++++

Cid sighed quietly, snuggling up to Vincent, leaning his head back onto his shoulder. They were standing on the porch, enjoying the warmth of the summer night, watching the clear night sky filled with billions of twinkling stars.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Vincent whispered softly, arms wrapped around Cid, looking up at the sky.

Cid nodded in agreement. “It is.”

Silence spread between them, nobody feeling the need to disturb the peace of the night with words. Together they watched the sky, relishing in the warmth. Cid felt his eyes threaten to fall shut, beginning to drowse in Vincent’s arms.

Vincent continued to watch the sky. It was so beautiful. How wonderful would it be to fly under such a sky? But he wasn’t in the mood for doing it alone. It was a pity Cid could not fly, Vincent knew he would have loved as much as he. He’d love to show him the pleasure of flying in the night, under the stars. A smile spread over his face as an idea appeared in his mind. Without making a sound he slowly changed, not wanting to disturb Cid, carefully unfolding his great wings.

Cid suddenly felt himself being pulled upwards, startling him awake, a sharp scream tearing through the air. The wind was pulling at his hair and his heart made a shocked leap as he frantically searched for a hold with his feet and only hit empty air. Instinctively he turned around and lashed out, trying to put out whoever had attacked him, hitting Vincent hard in the face.

Vincent uttered a dull cry, reflexively letting go. Blood spurted from his nose and he could only stare in shock, not sure what had just happened.

Cid’s screams abruptly changed in pit and a moment later stopped altogether, accompanied by the loud splinter of wood and the tearing of fabric.

++++

Cid looked up into the night sky, leaning back into his chair, his broken leg resting on a small stool. Luckily, Vincent’s romantic night flight hadn’t resulted in anything worse than a few broken bones, a bad concussion and a broken canopy swing. He watched the twinkling stars, his gaze following a shooting star that was making its slow descend. Vincent was shyly snuggling up to him, not daring to push too close out of fear of hurting either Cid, conscious of his broken ribs, or himself, his broken nose still slightly swollen and discoloured. “Vincent, dear?” Cid asked carefully “The next time we go flying… Could we just take an airship?”

++++

FFVII fic: "Eat meat! No torturing the vegetables!

naurring — Sun, 02 Nov 2008 13:16:37 GMT

Some new words for my NaNo records. :P

Title: Eat meat! No torturing the vegetables!
Disclaimer: You think I'd still write fanfics if I could create stuff like this and make money? Sadly, nothing mine and no money earned
Summary: Vincent has some food issues...
Rating: G or whatever letter that was
Warning: Might be a little hard for Vegetarians. Read on your own risk. Not my fault if you're left without anything to eat afterwards. :P
AN: I certainly have too much time. Or I wouldn't start to think about the moral implications of eating vegetables. At least now I have something to strike back.

++++

A delicious smell was drifting through the kitchen on the Highwind, emanating from the vegetable stew on the table. The table was full and everybody was munching hungrily, trying their best not to leave a crumb of the food.

Just Vincent stared down at his plate unhappily.

“You know, Vincent,” Yuffie interrupted her dinner. “It would do you no harm eating some vegetables or fruits from time to time instead of just stuffing yourself with meat all the time. Just try it. It won’t bite.”

Vincent slowly shook his head, still giving no sign of wanting to start to eat.

“Now really,” Cid fell in as well. “Just what *is* your problem with vegetables, man?”

“It’s just so cruel,” Vincent murmured, sadly looking at a steaming piece of broccoli on his plate.

The crew at the table exchanged glances.

“Eating vegetables is cruel?” Yuffie wondered.

Vincent nodded slowly.

Cid burst out laughing and Tifa quickly put a hand in front of her mouth to avoid spraying mashed food all over the table. Vincent cast a sour glance at them

“Vincent, they’re just *vegetables*. It’s not like you’re hurting them by eating them. They can’t feel pain,” Cloud pointed out, trying himself not to grin.

“They’re alive,” Vincent pointed out, pouting.

They just stared at him.

“Alive?” Yuffie dared to ask, the tone of her voice suggesting she thought Vincent had slightly lost it.

“I’m not eating anything that’s still alive,” Vincent added.

“But… Vincent!” Cloud shook his head, chuckling. “They’re *vegetables*. They can’t be alive.”

“And you’re eating meat,” Tifa added. “That’s far more alive than this.” She held up her fork with a piece of carrot.

“Meat is dead,” Vincent explained sourly. “It’s been alive once, but now it’s just dead. This is *green*.” He likewise held up the piece of broccoli. “No plant that is green can be dead. Dead plants are dry and brown. This is not dead.”

Silence had spread once more, everybody feeling overrun by this hair-raising logic.

“It’s just a plant,” Cait Sith fell in. “How can a plant be alive in the first place?”

“Says the electronic cat,” Yuffie chuckled.

“Of course they’re alive,” Vincent insisted, carefully putting the broccoli back onto his place, looking slightly guilty that he had pierced it with his fork.“Apples. If you put an apple in the ground, it will grow into a tree. Could it do this were it dead?”

“Still,” Yuffie mused. “It’s not really alive in the way an animal is. And even if it was once, it will be dead soon, now that it has been cut off.”

Vincent stared at her sourly. “So if you cut off the leg of a cow, you would just eat the cow because it would be dead soon anyway?”

Everybody stared at their plates with furrowed brows, contemplating the level of aliveness of their dinner.

“But it’s a fucking plant!” Cloud burst out. “It’s broccoli! It’s not like it feels pain when I eat it.”

“How do you know?” Vincent demanded. “Just because it doesn’t scream when you harm it doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel the pain. How should I know if the broccoli feels pain? It can’t tell me. It doesn’t have a mouth and has no telepathic abilities either, to my knowledge. And even if it doesn’t feel the pain… Just because someone doesn’t feel what you’re doing doesn’t give you the right to harm it nonetheless.” Resolutely he pushed his plate away from him.

Once more they all stared at their food, considering the telepathic abilities of their carrots.

“It is *broccoli*,” Cloud pointed out once more. “It can’t scream or speak in my mind or whatever; it doesn’t have a brain, no nerves, no nothing. It’s not feeling anything.”

“It could scream,” Yuffie interrupted, thoughtfully. “It might just scream so high or low that we can’t hear it.”

Gazes were exchanged and suddenly nobody seemed to be very hungry anymore.

“Oh by the Lifestream.” Cloud grabbed his fork, pushing it into his food and opening his mouth to shove some potatoes and carrots in. He froze in the middle of the movement, noticing how everybody was staring at him and at the vegetables on his fork. The room was filled with an air of uneasiness and accusation.

“On the other hand… It tastes pretty salty. I think the cook kinda overdid it.” Putting down his folk he shoved his plate away as well.

A breath of relief went through the room.

“So…” Cid rose from his chair, moving towards the door. “Anybody else who’d just love a nice juicy steak just now?”

++++

LOTR fic: "Just this moment"

naurring — Sat, 01 Nov 2008 14:21:55 GMT

Wasn't sure until the moment I found myself typing if I was gonna do NaNo or not. But somehow I really don't feel like writing something new, not with all the unfinished stuff I've got lying around, so it will be just continuing the unfinished fics I've got. And writing the stuff that's been poking my brain but for which I've been to lazy to write it. Like this one.

Titel: Just this moment
Pairing: Elrond/Glorfindel
Disclaimer: Not mine etc
Words: 673
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Eternity is not as long as it seems...

“Elrond.“ Glorfindel stepped into the room, noticing well how Elrond tensed upon hearing his voice. “You’re avoiding me.”

Elrond didn’t answer but waited silently for Glorfindel to approach who leaned down onto the desk, looking right at the half elf. “I told you I love you.”

Elrond only nodded, staring down onto his desk, trying to avoid Glorfindel’s piercing gaze. “And you told me you shared my feelings.”

“I did,” Elrond replied calmly, but Glorfindel saw well how tense and nervous the half elf was.

“And yet, you are avoiding me. You tell me you love me, but you make well sure to never be alone with me or to be too occupied to spend any time together.”

Elrond swallowed hard, carefully putting down the quill in his hands. “It’s not as you think,” he replied softly. “I haven’t lied to you. I do love you.”

“Then why act like this? Why try to escape me? I don’t understand.” Elrond felt guilt rise in him, hearing the miserable tone in Glorfindel’s voice.

“It’s got nothing to do with you, it’s just…” Elrond miserably shook his head. “I’m… I need time. I don’t know if I’m ready for a new relationship yet.”

Glorfindel shook his head in confusion. “I’m not asking you to marry me or anything, Elrond.”

“I know this.” He picked up the quill again, turning it in his hands. “Still… Having this kind of relationship with someone is no small step. And technically I’m still married to Celebrian… I can’t take a decision like this in the blink of an eye.”

Glorfindel seemed surprised. “A month is a blink of an eye to you? You’ve already been thinking for weeks, Elrond. I understand if you need time to think, but this…”

“I’m not going to leave, Glorfindel. We don’t need to start this this very moment. We have time.”

“No. No we don’t.” Glorfindel tone of voice suddenly grew strangely heated, nearly angry, and Elrond looked up at him in surprise. “No, we don’t have time, Elrond. I made that mistake once, and you know what happened? I *died*. I died and suddenly the time I thought to have was gone.” He drew a deep breath and forced himself to speak calmer once more. “I don’t want to wait, Elrond. Nobody expects to die or to be separated in any other way, but it might happen any moment. You of all people should know this. I might step out of this room in a minute and be killed. And what would you do then? I’d be gone. We tend to live in the future, being elves, thinking we will live for all eternity. But in reality we only have this moment. I can’t wait, Elrond. It would tear me apart. This moment is all we have.”

Elrond said nothing, a little shocked about this outburst. Glorfindel himself only stood there, staring down at his fingers on the desk. For a long moment nobody said anything before Elrond finally cleared his throat.

“I’m… not ready to do it all at once. Moving in with each other and all of this. It’s too quick.”

“You don’t need to. Not now and not in the future, if you don’t want to,” Glorfindel reassured him. “Just stay where you are.”

Elrond took a deep breath, putting down the quill once more, before nodding firmly. “Okay.”

“Really?” Glorfindel was surprised to actually hear this. He had hoped to speed Elrond along, but he had not expected him to take a decision on the spot.

Elrond nodded again, a smile creeping on his face. He felt strangely relieved, now that the pressure of having to decide, for Glorfindel’s sake, was finally gone.

Glorfindel looked at the half elf for another moment, then he straightened, moving around the desk towards Elrond. This time he didn’t shy away from him, but instead leaned into the embrace. Glorfindel couldn’t help but smile happily. “Thank you,” he whispered into his ear, bending further forwards to press a kiss onto Elrond’s lips.

++++

Lotr fic: "Waiting on the battledield" Chapter 5

naurring — Wed, 24 Sep 2008 16:07:28 GMT

Title: Waiting on the battlefield (working title), Chapter one
Disclaimer: All Tolkien’s
Word count: 1811/10199
Pairing: Glorfindel/Erestor
Rating: PG-13
Warning: AN says it all, Battle of the last Alliance, so character death, blood and just plain death
Summary: Sometimes you find the best things where you least expect them
AN: 3430 S.A., Battle of the last Alliance

++++

Previous Chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4

Later

For the first time Glorfindel hesitated before entering the tent, remaining in front of the flap, swallowing hard. He had put off this certain conversation as long as possible, but he knew that he couldn’t wait any longer. It would only complicate things and, above all, it was unfair towards Erestor. He deserved to know what was going on and a chance at deciding about the future path his life would take. Resolutely he pushed the curtain aside and walked through the diminishing lines of wounded to where Erestor still lay.

A bright smile appeared on the youth’s face as his gaze fell on Glorfindel’s advancing figure. Glorfindel tried his best to smile back as happily but considering how Erestor’s smile fell his attempt probably wasn’t very successful. He sat down next to the cot and took a deep breath.

Erestor raised himself onto his elbows, staring at the warrior, waiting for him to speak. But Glorfindel remained silent, not sure how to broach the subject. “What’s wrong?” Erestor finally asked, the worry in his voice only too evident.

Glorfindel opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, and he could only stare unhappily at the elf next to him.

“Is it about me?” Erestor asked hesitantly.

Glorfindel nodded slowly and then took a deep breath. “Thranduil is gone.”

Erestor stared at him for a moment, trying to make sense of this development. “What… do you mean?”

“He is gone,” Glorfindel repeated, feeling like it was his fault that Erestor was stuck here, even though he knew perfectly well that no one was to blame but Thranduil. “Back to Mirkwood. Already weeks ago. He took all of his people and supplies and left. I know I should have told you earlier, but…” Glorfindel trailed off, unhappily.

Erestor was staring at his lap, face blank. “He just left?”

Glorfindel nodded, staring at his feet as well. “Everybody not fit to walk or ride stayed behind.” Erestor let himself fall back onto the cot, covering his eyes with one arm.
This was exactly what Glorfindel had been trying to avoid all those time. Making Erestor unhappy and adding the burden of having been abandoned when he was most in need of help and support, having been left behind to fend for himself.

Long minutes passed in silence, Erestor trying to take in this information and Glorfindel not daring to interrupt him. “How could he do this?” Erestor finally asked, his voice tight with tears.

Glorfindel shrugged automatically, even though he knew Erestor wasn’t looking. “I don’t know. I don’t have any explanation and even if I had, there’s nothing to justify his actions. It’s a horrible thing do to.”

Erestor didn’t reply, remaining as motionless as before. “What am I going to *do* now?” He sat up once more, unshed tears having given way to fury, and glared at Glorfindel angrily. “How the fuck could he *do* this?!”

Glorfindel couldn’t answer, there just wasn’t any, and only looked at the youth sadly.
Suddenly a look of horror passed over Erestor’s face. “Oh Valar… My family! When I don’t come back with the others… They’ll think me dead!”

Glorfindel turned his gaze away, staring once more at his feet. “I’m sorry.”

Erestor put his head in his hands, elbows resting on his legs. “What the hell am I supposed to do now?” he whispered desperately.

“Well…” Glorfindel hesitantly started. “About that… there’s another thing I wanted to talk to you about.” He waited for an answer, urging him on, but as there was none he dared to raise his head once more, seeing Erestor gaze at him expectantly. “There is a new place… It’s most near to Lórien, but on the other side of the mountains. It’s called Rivendell.” He looked at Erestor, who seemed to listen to him attentively, before he continued. “Elrond build it. It lies in a large, hidden valley, full of waterfalls and with a river and a wood… at least I heard so…” He took a deep breath, trying to stop babbling. “Anyway… Elrond is still looking for people who’ll come with him. He asked me if I’d like to accompany him and live there.”
Erestor said nothing, lowering his hands to play with the blanket, looking at Glorfindel sadly and thoughtfully. “And will you go?”

“I’m not sure. I think I will,” Glorfindel admitted. “The point is… Elrond would gladly receive you should you choose to go with him.”

Erestor snorted unhappily. “I don’t want to go there. I want to go home.”

“I know. But you can’t. It’s too far and still too dangerous for the moment and…”

“I *know*,” Erestor snapped.

Glorfindel flinched at the hard tone.

Erestor sighed, passing a hand over his face. “I need to think about this,” he said, seeming depressed and tired.

Glorfindel nodded, rising to his feet. “I understand. Things like that take time. I’ll… just leave you alone to… think.” Erestor nodded, gaze still directed at the blanket, not looking up as Glorfindel quietly left the tent.

++++

During the next days he carefully made sure not to look in on Erestor, even though every time he found enough time to spare his steps led him involuntarily towards the healing tent and he had to force himself to turn away, not wanting Erestor to feel pressured by his presence. He was impatient, though, waiting for the youth to take a decision, but urging him on would probably only prolong the process.

“My Lord Glorfindel.”

Glorfindel looked up from the scarce meal he was sharing with some soldiers, to see an elf standing next to him of whom he knew that he was assisting Elrond in the healing tents.

“Please excuse my interruption. I have been asked to go for you. Your presence has been asked for in the healing tents.”

“By Elrond?” Glorfindel inquired, swallowing a bite of dry lembas.

“No, my Lord. His name is Erestor and I think…”

Glorfindel instantly left his food behind and jumped to his feet, his heart beating fast with excitement. He remembered in the last moment to throw a ‘Thank you’ back over his shoulder as he marched with long, quick strides towards the tent.

Erestor was sitting up and staring at the entrance when he arrived, calmly waiting for his arrival. Glorfindel quickly slowed his steps and forced the impatient expression off of his face, not wanting to be too obviously excited about what Erestor had, perhaps, to say. “You asked for me?” he asked, a little breathless after all.

Erestor nodded, dark eyes directed at his face. “I’ll come with you.”

Glorfindel’s heart leapt with joy in his chest and it was only now that he realized how much he had hoped for this answer. “To Rivendell?” he asked, to make sure.

Erestor nodded once more, his expression turning slightly melancholic. “Where else should I go? Mirkwood is far, far away and there’s no way I could go all that way by myself, or even with the few of my people that are still left here. If I could even walk, that is.” He laughed humourlessly. It is as good a place to go to as any other. At least there are people there I already know.”

“It won’t be that bad. I’m sure you’ll like it there,” Glorfindel tried to cheer him up.

Erestor smiled slightly. “I might. But just now is just not the best of times to be happy about such a thing.”

Glorfindel nodded, sitting down next to him. “I know what you mean.”

“Elrond is there,” Erestor continued, trying himself to think a little more positive now.

“That’s good, he can continue to take care of my leg. It’s healing too slowly, he says. And besides from that…” He sighed deeply. “I really hope it will carry me once more one day.”

“It will,” Glorfindel reassured him. “Elrond is a good healer, probably the best.”

Erestor smiled shakily, still looking anxious. “If you say so.”

Glorfindel reached out to squeeze Erestor’s shoulder. “All will be well.”

He rose to his feet, reluctantly, half-heartedly excusing himself. “I’m sorry to have to leave you, but I don’t have much time right now. I have duties to take care off...” His voice trailed off, trying to find an excuse for himself to stay, not wanting to leave, but there were things waiting for him he couldn’t put off.

Erestor nodded understandingly, but the disappointed expression on his face showed that he would have preferred for Glorfindel to stay as well.

“I’m glad you’ll come with us,” Glorfindel told him, eliciting a smile on the youth’s face, before he turned to leave.

++++

It was nearly dark when he finally had enough time to go look for Elrond. The half elf wasn’t in the front part of the tent, but one of the other healers told him he would properly be found in the supply tents.

Hurrying over Glorfindel entered the big structure, eerily empty, most of the food and water having gone long ago.

Elrond was standing in the midst of it, frowning at what few of the food was left.

“I’ve been thinking,” Glorfindel started, stepping next to his friend.

“Me too,” grumbled Elrond. “We eat too much.”

Glorfindel nodded solemnly, looking around, before turning back to his original topic. “I’ve decided to come with you.”

Elrond’s expression instantly brightened up. “I’m very glad to hear this, my friend. I had really hoped you’d decide to join me.”

Glorfindel nodded in acknowledgement. “Erestor wants to come as well,” he broached his actual question.

“Oh, with pleasure!” Elrond instantly replied, seeming sincerely delighted. “There’s more than enough space yet. And I could finally properly take care of that leg of his.” Elrond passed a hand over his face, sighing loudly, not being able to linger on the joyful announcement for long, his worries weighing him down. “One way or another, we need to leave soon. The wounded use up much food and with Thranduil and part of the men already gone and having taken supplies for the way… Besides, I want to get away from this cursed place as quickly as possible.”

“What about the wounded?” Glorfindel asked, worriedly. “Could we take them with us?”
Elrond nodded, a sad smile on his face. “Most of them have healed enough by now to be able to walk… or they have died. From the few that aren’t able to walk, some would be able to ride, Erestor, for example. The rest of them are few enough to be carried without causing too much trouble.”

Glorfindel nodded, agreeing. “I’ll be glad to be gone from here. There is still some organising to be done, and the soldiers need to be informed, but I think we could leave this place within the week.”

Elrond nodded, giving his approval, visibly relieved. “Finally.”

++++

Lotr fic: "April Fool", Chapter 3

naurring — Sat, 30 Aug 2008 11:20:20 GMT

Wow! Look! It's fanfiction! I already thought it had become extinct!

Title: April Fool
Disclaimer: Nothing mine and will never be.
Pairing: Glorfindel/?, Lindir/?
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Word count: 836/3279
Warnings: none
Summary: A simple April Fool joke has far worse consequences than Glorfindel intended

Previous Chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2

++++

Chapter 3

A loud sigh made Glorfindel stop in his movements, just having prepared to bite into a piece of bread. Turning his head he watched Elladan sit down next to him, a miserable expression on his face. The half elf sighed once more, listlessly reaching for a piece of bread to tear it into tiny crumbs.

“Is anything the matter?” Glorfindel asked dutifully, putting down his own bread.

“Oh.” Sigh. “No, nothing. Nothing is the matter. Not anymore.” He sighed once again, deeply.

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. “Not anymore? Shouldn’t that be a good thing?”

Elladan couldn’t suppress a dry laughter. “I don’t know, would you being dropped define as a good thing?”

“Oh, it’s *that*.” Glorfindel breathed a sigh of relief and went back to eating his breakfast. He had already thought something was seriously wrong. But apparently it was just a broken heart, which was bad enough, but nothing to overly worry about. Elladan would get over it in time, as he had done before. It wasn’t the first time after all.

“And everything had seemed to work so well! He was really a nice guy. But somehow…” Elladan sighed again, sadly, forcefully tearing so hard on the bread in his hands that crumbs jumped to all sides and into Glorfindel’s cup of tea.

“If it didn’t work out he wasn’t the right one,” Glorfindel tried to be helpful. “You’ll find someone better one day.” He kept staring into his cup where the bread crumbs slowly dissolved into a mushy matter.

“I keep telling myself that. But it had taken so much time to find someone like him. I’ll doubt the next chance will just present itself like that to me.” Elladan finally put the bread down and started to fumble with the edge of his plate instead, clearly not in a mood for breakfast.

Glorfindel, on the other hand, was and he picked up his abandoned bread once more. He was just about to bite into it as a thought struck him and he froze, bread half on its way to his open mouth. Slowly he turned his head, staring at Elladan, who still looked utterly miserable.

He was single now.

This occasion was nearly too perfect to be true. Elladan was without a partner and Lindir liked him, he was certain of that. He had personally heard the minstrel say so.

His mind worked as fast as it could, inventing a plan. Here he had two miserable and lonely elves who both liked each other and desired a lover. What better an occasion could there be?

Elladan turned his head, noticing Glorfindel’s gaze, and stared at him, frowning. “Is something wrong?”

Glorfindel quickly closed his mouth and put the bread down once more, grabbing instead his cup of tea and taking a sip. “No. Nothing is wrong,” he replied, satisfied that soon everything would be right as it should be.

++++

Slowly Erestor strolled into the dining room, as grumpy as always in the early morning. He hated mornings, he hated getting up and he hated having to sit down with everybody else at the dining table and be forced to do conversation. As much as he liked to talk during the rest of the day, in the morning he just did not want to bother with anybody.

He let himself fall onto his chair and was nearly suffocated by a giant bouquet of flowers resting on the table. Pulling back he stared at the thing, blinking at it in sleepy confusion. Flowers? On his place? Why? Who had put them there? And for who where they meant?

Well, for who they were meant was painfully clear, if he thought about it for a second. It was his place after all. But who would have put them there? It took Erestor some further moments of thinking until he thought about looking for a note.

There was one, written in a delicate script with an ink the same colour as the red roses. Erestor’s gaze moved over the words, perplexed. The words were simple, but very clear in their meaning.

I’ve always admired you from afar, but now I can’t bear it any longer not to be with you. Please meet up with me tonight, at dawn, at the lake. Don’t eat.

That was all, no name, no address, nothing, and the writing itself didn’t reveal anything about its owner. Erestor swallowed and felt his heart beat hard in his chest, fully awake now. Quickly he hid the note under his robes. No need to let half of Imladris see he had an admirer. Who might this person be? It had been quite some time since he had received an invitation like this. Usually he was the forward one. Getting this invitation both excited him and made him nervous.

Quickly he rose to his feet, taking the giant bouquet of flowers with him, hurrying out of the room, glancing through the window at the rising sun. It would be a long day until dawn.

++++

ASPIT (Even Fall?) fanfic: Purest White, Deepest Black (did I ever mention I suck at titles?)

naurring — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 10:06:57 GMT

Actually I'm not even sure what to call it. Is it ASPIT fanfiction? Or Even Fall? Crossover sounds a little far fetched, considering it's both the same world. Oh the confusion.

Title: Purest White, Deepest Black (did I ever mention I suck at titles?)
Disclaimer: Nothing mine, everything belongs to the awesome Alyx J. Shaw. Save for the cow elf, perhaps. I fear I have to take responsibility for that. Though she inspired it. So it's her fault after all.
Word count: 1147
Rating: G
Warning: Moo?
Summary: Arrowsmith gets a child
AN: Just the other day a certain author told me something like this: "Hey, ASPIT fanfiction is always great! Do whatever you want! So write your little German heart out!" Well, that's what I'm doing. Also meaning I'm not responsible for any negative effects, such as broken keyboards by spluttered drinks or anything. So there.
This specific fic is the result of Even Fall suddenly turning out to be in the same world as ASPIT. If you read those, you can probably see where this came from.

Night had long fallen over White Palace, and with it came a soft wind, blissfully cooling down the air burning from the day’s heat. The air was filled with the silent sounds of night, crickets, the occasional bark of a dog, the voices of the sleepless and the drunk and a high, persistent wailing.

Arrowsmith slowly forced an eye open. For a while he blinked sleepily into the dark room, hearing Infamous’ calm breathing behind him, far away at the other end of the bed. Even for cuddling it was too hot. He tried to will the sound away, but it continued nonetheless, cutting through the night air, and finally Arrowsmith opened his second eye and sat up, sighing. Ducky quacked softly in protest at the foot of the bed as Arrowsmith rose, disturbing him with his movements, but quickly went back to sleep.

Naked Arrowsmith made his way over to the windows, wide open to let in the coolness of the night, hitting his foot at something hard lurking on the floor, barely able to suppress a curse. Instead he leaned out of the window and looked around, frowning, trying to make out the source of the noise. It could not be far away, it sounded pretty close. Actually it sounded like…

Arrowsmith lowered his gaze, staring at the spot right below his window.

It was dark, but the moon stood high in the sky and he could still see movement there.

“Oh geez,” Arrowsmith mumbled, listening to the desperate wailing of the something below him that didn’t sound enough like an animal for his taste. “Fine, okay. I’ll get you,” he mumbled, turning around to leave the room and have a look at the thing, remembering in the last moment to at least put some pants on.

To reach the spot right below his window Arrowsmith had to cross nearly half of the palace, leave it and then go back, following the palace wall, and by the time he had finally arrived the sweat was running down his body and he was grumpy and thirsty. At least there was no danger of not being able to find the place, he would have been able to find it just by following the wailing if he had been in 250-Mile-House.

Arrowsmith bend down, to closely study the thing on the floor, staring at it in disbelief. It was tightly wrapped in a dark blanket, moving frantically, and lying in the shadow, but even like this there was no mistaking that it was a baby.

“Oh *crap*,” Arrowsmith cursed loudly, reaching out to pick the child up from the ground. “What are you doing here?” he murmured to the baby. He did not wait for an answer, but quickly started to make his way back into the palace. Where this child had come from was a minor point, but considering the intense wailing it was probably hungry. And thirsty. The blanket protecting the child was damp with sweat and Arrowsmith shook his head, wondering who the fuck would cover their baby with a thick blanket in a heat like this.

By the time he arrived back at their rooms Infamous was already up, having been woken by the approaching screams of the baby. Opening the door for his lover he stared at the child for a moment, before raising his gaze at Arrowsmith. “What is *this*?”

“Well,” Arrowsmith answered as he put the child down onto their bed, starting to unwrap it. “I don’t know about Dargoth, but in my world we called it a baby.”

Infamous busied himself lightening some candles so that they could better see the child, opening his mouth to say something, but his answer died as the small, naked body was revealed. He stared at the baby, exchanging a look with Arrowsmith, who seemed as astonished as himself.

Carefully Arrowsmith extended a hand, carefully scraping over one arm with a fingernail, but what he had thought might be dirt remained, and he only touched smooth skin. “Oh crap.”

++++

Misty shook his head, staring at the baby, watching it greedily drink the bottle of milk Monshikka was offering him. “He looks like a cow.”

True enough, the child *did* look like a cow.

The main tone of his skin seemed to be an ice white, but there were also large patches of deepest black all over his body, giving him the spotted look of the animal. One of those spots ran over his face, coloring the left side of his nose in black whilst the other side remained white, and then moving down under his eye to colour his cheek and stop halfway down his throat. The rest of his body was likewise marbled, though the patches seemed to become smaller the further down his body they were. His lower legsl and feet were a pure white, the lowest spot ending just under his left knee.

“No wonder he was abandoned,” Infamous mused. “Poor child.”

“It’s a shame,” Blue agreed softly, likewise watching the scene. “Being left behind by ones mother just for the colour of his skin.”

“In Kirianna he would have been dead long ago,” Monshikka said. “He would have been killed the hour of his birth. On the other hand, he would already have been killed just for not being human,” he added dryly.

“He’s not?” Arrowsmith asked, slightly astonished. “I didn’t really pay attention to *that*.”

Monshikka shook his head. “He’s an elf.”

“You sure?” Arrowsmith leaned forward to see, squinting his eyes at the child.

“Arrowsmith, I think I am perfectly capable to tell a human child apart from an elven child. Something about the ears might already give it away.” He pointed to the tiny ears and everybody automatically leaned forward, staring at the tiny and pointed ears of the babe.

“What are we supposed to do with him?” Misty voiced what everybody was thinking. “Keep him?”

“We can barely leave him to fend for himself,” The Moonhound fell into the conversation.

“It might be misunderstanding,” Blackbird mused hopefully. “He might not be abandoned after all. We can’t make any final decisions until we are sure of this. But in the meantime… we can barely do anything else but take care of him.”

“And who gets the honour of changing his nappies?” Misty asked carefully, already having risen too his feet and backing up.

“We already have Ashadira,” Blue protested likewise. “We can’t take care of two babies.”

“Well…” The Moonhound grinned at Arrowsmith, noticing that Monshikka had finished feeding the child that and the baby was starting to fall asleep in his arms. “Shouldn’t it usually be the one who found him?”

Arrowsmith had barely time to open his mouth before he found his arms full of sleeping baby and their rooms empty once more, everybody else having fled into the security of their own rooms.

And I have the eery feeling I just created myself an AU universe. *headdesk*

Lotr fic: "Flower in the Sand" Chapter 2

naurring — Wed, 04 Jun 2008 11:46:52 GMT

Itt a te fejezeted, fivérem (az én fivrérem?). Sok tréfatől.

Disclaimer: All Tolkien’s
Word count: 1566/2702

++++
Chapter 2

Glorfindel’s gaze was fixed on the door to his study, lips pressed tightly together in discontent, one finger tapping impatiently on the desk, feeling the minutes pass by. There was barely anything more he hated than waiting, being used to always have people around him to obey his orders at once.

The finger stilled as the door moved and opened with a soft creak, revealing two shy eyes peaking inside.

“Come in,” Glorfindel snapped, seeing the figure in the doorway flinch at the hard tone of his voice.

Hastily Erestor slipped into the room, closing the door a tad too loud, earning another frown from Glorfindel. Making his way over to stand in front of the big desk he bowed shakily and forced himself to whisper “My Lord”, remembering only too well the slap from the day before.

“You are late,” Glorfindel growled, staring intently at the boy standing in front of him, head lowered, looking horribly lost in his new attire. Gaelion had taken his dirty peasant clothes and given him the long, dark robes worn by the young scribes-in-training. It was clear that Erestor wasn’t used to this, he didn’t stop fumbling with the unfamiliar cloth and pulling at it to straighten it, unsure how exactly it was supposed to be worn.

Glorfindel noted with a tad of amusement that he wore the outer robe backwards and his anger lessened slightly. How could he expect from this boy to follow his instruction impeccably? He was just a simply peasant and he couldn’t expect him to be able to memorize his instruction on the very first time. He was not intelligent enough for this, after all. Furthermore, the nobility and perfectness of this place must put him in such an awe that he could not concentrate on his tasks properly. And who could blame him, he was only used to his tiny, dirty peasant shack after all, which they probably shared with their animals.

“You are late,” he grumbled once more, slightly less intimidating now. “You’re lessons begin at six in the morning. No earlier, no later. It is at exactly this time that I want to hear you knocking on my door, *properly dressed*. Let Gaelion explain to you how to wear those clothes, you put them on all the wrong way.”

The boy’s gaze instantly moved to look at the dark robes he wore as he blushed a soft red in embarrassment. “Yes, my Lord,” he mumbled softly.

“Tell me.” Glorfindel leaned forward, curious to see if those few repetitions had been enough to make the boy understand and memorize them. “When do you come to my study?”

“At six, my Lord,” the soft voice mumbled again.

Glorfindel raised his eyebrows appreciatively. He remembered, good. This didn’t mean, of course, that he’d still remember it in a few hours, but for now it was a good start and he would make sure to continue to repeat it throughout the day.

“At six,” Glorfindel agreed, nodding towards a chair on the other side of the desk. “Sit down.”

“Yes, my Lord.” The boy hurried to do as he was told, nervously fumbling with the unfamiliar robes to fold them in a way that would allow him to sit down.

Glorfindel watched his attempts, amused. Yes, it would be fun to train this boy.

“Well, as you know you are here to be taught a few things few of your status and intelligence have a chance to learn. Such as writing and reading, which we will do today. I will explain some things to you and show you how to do it, then you will return to your rooms and practice the rest of the day. Understood?”

The boy nodded, gaze fixed on his lap.

“By the Valar, boy, don’t just stare at your feet, you’ll find nothing to write with there.”

Erestor’s gaze instantly snapped up, briefly looking right at Glorfindel, trying to read in his face what he expected from him, before looking at the desk and the things that were piled in front of him.

“This,” Glorfindel slightly leaned forward to point to a parchment lying in front of the boy, “is the table with all the letters of the alphabet.” He paused for a moment, frowning at the boy thoughtfully. “Do you know what letters are?”

“I… I think so… my Lord…”

“Letters,” Glorfindel started, deciding to erase every doubt to make sure the boy knew what he was talking about, “are written signs, each representing a sound, such as ‘e’ or ‘p’ and all the others. Put together they can be used to form words, of course not in a random order, the right letters need to be chosen for the sound required. This way you could write your name, for example, choosing the signs for the sounds ‘e’, ‘r’, another ‘e’, ‘s’, ‘t’, ‘o’ and another ‘r’. This also works with my name, as well as with any other word there is. This way whole sentences and even long texts can be written. Do you understand this?”

The boy nodded, gaze fixed on the parchment with the alphabet.

“Do you understand this?” Glorfindel repeated, his voice a touch colder, displeased about the boy’s silence.

“Yes, my Lord,” Erestor hurried to say, lowering his gaze once more in embarrassment.

“Good. I know this is very difficult for you, especially for you, as a peasant, so we will start very slowly, one letter at a time. The first letter you can see here,” once again Glorfindel leaned forward to point to the letter in question, is the letter ‘t’. Remember it’s name and every time you write it I want you to loudly repeat it. Tell me, what is this letter’s name?” Expectantly Glorfindel stared at Erestor, feeling excited like a child, now that his experiment had finally started.

“It’s called ‘t’, my Lord,” Erestor repeated obediently, gaze fixed tightly on the letter.

“Now take your quill and your ink and try to copy it,” Glorfindel instructed, pointing to the empty parchment in front of Erestor.

“Yes, my Lord,” the boy answered, but despite his words the only thing that moved were his eyes, sweeping over the things in front of him.

Glorfindel furrowed his brow. Had the boy even listened to him? “Erestor,” he said firmly, waiting for the boy to raise his gaze and look at him. “I told you to take the quill and the ink and to copy the letter.”

Erestor nodded, his gaze dropping back to the desk. “Yes, my Lord.” But once again he did not move to obey Glorfindel’s instructions. He lifted one hand, uncertainly touching the empty parchment, then the parchment with the alphabet, before moving to hesitantly touch several things in front of him, always looking up at Glorfindel to observe his reaction.

“Erestor,” Glorfindel repeated once more, the displeasure now having returned to his voice. “I told you something. Why aren’t you doing it?”

“My Lord…” the boy mumbled softly, pulling his hands back to hide them under the table. “Excuse me but… the quill… and the ink…”

“Yes?” Glorfindel urged him on, impatiently.

He saw the boy swallow hard, before he whispered softly; “What do they look like?”

“You don’t know what a quill looks like?” Glorfindel asked carefully, astonished.

“No, my Lord,” the boy whispered, staring at his feet.

“Or ink?”

“No, my Lord,” Erestor whispered again, his voice barely audible now.

Glorfindel sighed deeply, raising a hand to push the objects in question right in front of the boy. It seems like he had overrated the boy.

“This is a quill,” he explained, waiting for the boy to take the object in question. “And this is your ink.” With a quick movement of his hand he opened the small bottle of ink. “To write, you dip the tip of your quill into the ink, it will soak up some of the fluid and you can write with it afterwards. You will need to repeat this on a regular basis, once you have used up all the ink in your quill. Never forget to close the ink once you’re finished, or it will dry out, or to clean your quill. Now…” Having explained this Glorfindel leaned once more back into his chair, nodding towards the empty parchment. “Copy the letter.”

Erestor stared at the quill in his hand, turning it uncertainly, before he hesitantly lifted it and dipped it into the ink.

Glorfindel sat upright with a start, stilling the boy’s hand. “Not that deep! You will never be able to use the ink so high on the quill. You’ll only waste it.”

“I’m sorry, my Lord,” the boy mumbled, moving the quill towards the parchment, producing a shaky stroke on the clean surface.

“No!” Glorfindel interrupted him, horrified about the way the boy was holding the writing utensil. “Look at your quill, you broke the tip. Don’t put that much pressure on it!” He pulled the quill out of the boy’s hand and examined the broken tip, frowning discontentedly. This quill was ruined. Sighing he put it down onto the desk, studying the boy in front of him.

Erestor was once more staring straight at his feet, his face tainted red.

“I think,” Glorfindel decided after some moments, reaching out to put the alphabet away, “we’ll rather start your lessons with teaching you how to hold a quill.”

++++

Previous chapters:
Chapter 1

Lotr fic: "Child of the Wilderness" Chapter 5

naurring — Tue, 03 Jun 2008 13:47:51 GMT

Disclaimer: Still the same, nothing is mine, all Tolkien’s and Co.

Word count: 2609/9116

AN: Now we finally get to the wolf part. As already mentioned I’m trying to make this as authentic as possible, wolf behavior and pedagogy wise. I read a few books about wolves for this story so I could put some right behaviour in. Still, as I never got to observe real wolves and all I know comes from books it’s probably still wrong most of the time, even considering the fact that I adjusted his behavior a little due to the fact he still is no real wolf but an elf.

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Chapter 5

Glorfindel raised his head when the low pitiful moans penetrated his mind, blinking sleepily towards the bed where the sounds where emanating from. For some moments he felt confused, wondering how late it was, why he was looking at his bed and had therefore apparently not spent the night in it but in the chair he was sitting in and who was making these distressed sounds.

He was awake in an instant when he managed to grasp the memory of the naked elf lying half dead in the cold snow and how he had brought him home. Quickly sitting up in his chair Glorfindel looked more closely at the bed. The elf was a shivering lump under the blankets, moaning quietly, a strange, deep sound that did not sound very elven.

For some time Glorfindel did not move and simply watched the elf, or rather the blanket, which was moving slightly from time to time, showing where the elf was resting under them. He swallowed hard, sitting up in his chair, trying to come up with an idea for how to best approach this situation. The usual rules clearly did not apply here, as there was no way of knowing how this elf would react.

“Hello,” Glorfindel finally said after some time, very softly, as if talking to a frightened animal, which wasn’t even that far away from the truth. But if the elf even heard him he did not show it in any way. When even after repeated callings he failed to show any reaction Glorfindel slowly rose from his chair, walking over to the bed. He wasn’t even sure if he was awake or having a nightmare, as the elf was completely covered by the blanket, when he carefully extended a hand to gently touch a bulge under the blankets that seemed to be one of the elf’s ankles.

The elf reacted instantly, throwing the blanket away from him and hurling himself at Glorfindel with a growling, dangerous sound. The blond managed to get away from the elf’s snapping teeth just in time before they closed over his face, pressing against the wall as far away from the bed as possible.

With wide eyes Glorfindel stared at the feral creature that was now crouching on his bed, on all fours, pressed back against the headboard. The green eyes flashed dangerously and he growled loudly, lips pulled back over his teeth. Glorfindel could see how his body shook with the effort of sitting up and probably a violent fever, too, considering the elf’s flushed face.

Glorfindel felt confused, not knowing what to do. The elf looked as if he would rip him into pieces if he moved as much as a finger, but he couldn’t possibly stand there all day.

But the elf’s behaviour confirmed one thing Glorfindel had already suspected: He acted nothing like an elf, more like a wolf, and Glorfindel absolutely wasn’t sure how much elf there was left inside of him. He doubted it was very much, though. Any sane elf would not have stayed with a pack of wolves, but would have gone for help.

For a long time the blond and the black-haired elf just stared at each other, none daring to move, Glorfindel’s gaze constantly travelling towards the door. Just now it seemed they would both starve or die of thirst before an end to this appeared. Very slowly and very carefully he made a tiny step towards the door. At once the elf’s snarl, which had quietened to a soft growl almost sounding like a cat’s purr, grew louder once more, filling the room with its threat.

Glorfindel instantly froze, not daring to move any further. Once more they both stood there, motionless, until suddenly the elf moved, sinking back down onto the mattress. He was panting heavily and Glorfindel could only imagine how exhausting and straining this situation needed to be for the elf. He desperately needed to lie down and sleep some more, but he doubted that he’d do so with him in the room.

Glorfindel made another step towards the door and as expected, the elf growled again, lips pulling back over his teeth as far as he could, but he remained lying on the bed. Glorfindel swallowed hard. This whole situation was going completely different then he had imagined. Even though he knew this elf had lived with wolves he somehow would have expected him to be slightly more… elven.

He was still considering if he should try to make another step and continue to move further towards the door or take the risk and run for it, when there was a knock on the door. Glorfindel’s eyes widened in alarm when the elf on the bed rose on all fours once more, growling louder than ever before, eyes snapping towards the door. The door started to open and seeing the way the elf’s attention was fixed on it and how he looked as if he was ready to attack at any further movement or sound Glorfindel did not lose any time and darted towards the door. The door had opened just enough to allow him to slip through when he reached it and he quickly pushed a surprised Elrond far away from the door, making him fall to the ground, before slamming the door shut behind him, just in time. An instant later he heard the elf hit the door, snarling and clawing.

Panting hard from the shock Glorfindel leaned against the door, holding it closed even though it was unlikely the elf inside knew what a door was not to talk about opening it.

Elrond had remained lying on the floor where he had ended up in Glorfindel’s haste to get out of the room and was staring at the blond with big astonished eyes. “What on Arda happened in there?” he asked, his voice a mixture of utter confusion and worry.

“Well,” Glorfindel started, trying to find words for what had occurred between him and the other elf. “I guess he really is a wolf.”

Slowly Elrond rose from the floor, careful not to step on the hem of his robes and trip over them. “Did he try to attack you?” he asked his friend. He had quickly found his usual calm and resolution again and his voice now carried a warning tone.

“Erestor didn’t mean any harm,” Glorfindel quickly protected the elf he had come to think of as his charge as he noticed the hostile glance Elrond cast at the closed door.

Elrond arched an eyebrow and looked at his friend. “Erestor?”

Glorfindel blushed slightly as he realized what he had just said and shrugged uncertainly. “That’s… what I have been calling him in my mind.” He had no idea where this name came from, it had just been in his head one day, and he had stuck in his mind.

“It is a nice name,” Elrond reassured him. “He might have been better off living with deer with a name like this, though.” A small grin crossed the half elf’s face, but he quickly grew serious again. “But… Still. Why did he attack you? Did you do anything to him?”

Glorfindel shook his head and opened his mouth to speak, but Elrond interrupted him.

“He might be dangerous.” The half elf clearly was not comfortable saying this. “We do not know who he is and what happened to him. He might be a danger to everybody living here.”

“He is not dangerous,” Glorfindel stated firmly with a warning, protective tone in his voice. “Definitely not more than any real wolf would be. He is just frightened. He is hurt and sick; he woke up in a place he never saw before, where everything is strange to him, with someone sitting next to his bed. If he lived with wolves he probably learned to keep away from us. He just wants to protect himself.” He looked back at the door, thinking. “Still, it might be better if I looked for a new home, for the time being.”

Elrond looked slightly doubtful at these last words. “There’s not much room left. Most of the families with houses out in the valley came here for the winter. I’d need to see if there are rooms left first.”

Glorfindel shook his head, sighing quietly. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll find something.” His gaze was fixed on the door, looking a little uncomfortable at the thought of leaving Erestor alone in his rooms. “Do you have a key? Mine is inside. I don’t think he can open the door but… it might still be better to lock it.”

Elrond nodded. “I’ll get it.” Leaving Glorfindel to guard the door he quickly vanished down the hallway to fetch the key to the blond’s rooms.

Having successfully locked the door they left Erestor in peace for the time being, making their way to Elrond’s office, where Glorfindel instantly collapsed into an armchair, still a little shaky from his almost encounter with Erestor’s teeth.

Silently Elrond moved through the room, pouring a generous cup of miruvor for both of them. Leaning back against a shelf, he carefully looked at the blond elf. “Well. What do you want to do about him?”

Raking his hair, Glorfindel reached out to take his own miruvor with a shaky hand, taking a long sip. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted.

Elrond sighed. “This is a difficult situation, Glorfindel. I completely agree with you that he only acts this way because he is afraid and sick, but he still presents a danger for everybody trying to approach him. As the ruler of this valley I can’t possibly tolerate such a threat.”

“And what do you want to do instead?” Glorfindel spat, mildly surprised by the force of his words himself. “Kill him? Put him out into the woods once more?”

Elrond remained silent at this, looking down into his cup. For a long time neither Elrond nor Glorfindel spoke, both lost in their broodings.

“I realize that we can’t simply throw him out,” Elrond continued after some time, calmer now. “But this situation is still dangerous, for us as well as for him. He is not used to closed spaces and he could hurt himself in your room. Just imagine if he tried to escape through the balcony and ran against the glass…” He fell silent once more, moving a hand over his face, shaking his head. “I’d put a wolf outside in one of the dog cages, but... He is no wolf. We can’t treat him like a stray dog. But we can’t treat him like the elf he is, either.” He sighed heavily. “I really don’t know what to do about this, Glorfindel.”

Taking a large sip of his miruvor to calm himself, Glorfindel looked at Elrond, desperately, silently. Once again both elves were lost in their broodings, trying to think of a way to solve this situation. “I’ll take care of him” Glorfindel continued softly after what felt like hours. “If anything happens, it will be completely my fault.”

Elrond shook his head. “No, my friend. I can’t leave you alone with this. For one thing, you wouldn’t even be able to take care of him all on your own. He’d never let you. Furthermore, if anything happened it would still be my mistake, because I gave the responsibility to you. Whatever we do about this, you can’t do it alone.” Sighing, he drained his glass. “I need to examine him once more, but in his current state I have no idea how to do this without getting attacked by him. We’d need to hold him down and force him to allow me to touch him. It would be horribly stressful for him.”

Glorfindel nodded approvingly, putting his empty glass on the small table next to him. “He will be hungry.”

Elrond looked up at him, not instantly understanding the relation to what he had just said. “Excuse me?”

“He will be hungry,” Glorfindel repeated, “He is so skinny, he won’t have eaten much in the past. And he certainly hasn’t eaten anything since I brought him here. Couldn’t you add something to his food to make him calm down? You do it like that with the animals if they’re sick.” He hated the thought of treating the sick elf like a wild animal, but at the moment there didn’t seem to be another way if they wanted to make sure he survived.

“You’re right,” Elrond approved, rising from his chair. “I’ll get some meat from the kitchen and prepare it. We can only hope that he isn’t too sick to eat.”

“Meat?” Glorfindel furrowed his brow. “Are you sure he will be able to eat it? Shouldn’t we give him something light, like…” He trailed of, not quite able to think of anything they could possibly get Erestor to eat.

Elrond smiled at him, slightly amused. “Like chicken soup? I realize meat wouldn’t be an appropriate diet for any other elf in his situation, but we can’t forget that he apparently spent most of his life out in the woods.” A shadow appeared on his face. “Do you remember when Celebrian returned after having been caught?”

Glorfindel nodded slowly, not able to answer. The capturing of her company and the loss of many lives was never easy to talk about. Too much grieve was connected with it.

“When they were finally rescued and returned to Rivendell… Most of the elves weren’t able to eat anything else but water and bread, because that was what they had been given for months.” Elrond took a deep breath, trying to chase away the dark memories and to concentrate on the matter at hand. “It is the same with Erestor. Wolves eat basically anything, but it is winter. There aren’t many things but the flesh of dead animals out there to eat at the moment. Offering him anything else would probably cause digestive problems. And I don’t think he needs those on top of his current situation. And it would be cruel to add to his fear and confusion by offering him food he possibly has never seen in his life. He might not even know it is edible.”

Glorfindel nodded hesitantly. “You’re words sound wise. I still don’t like it. Having to treat him like some wild animal, not leaving him any choice on this matter…”

“I know.” Elrond smiled at him in sympathy. “But the best thing is for him to rest and heal. He is frightened and exhausted, and sick as well.”

“Still.” Glorfindel pulled a face. It made him hurt when he thought about how Erestor must feel about all this.

“I’ll get the food and try to find something we can slip him. There are not many herbs or healing draughts we could use. He’d smell or taste most of it and it would ruin every chance of him taking it.” Leaving the room Elrond left Glorfindel to his thoughts.

++++

AN: Small comment on that deer sentence: It the result of me (a long time ago) spending hours trying to find out what ‚Erestor‘ meaned, as Tolkien unfortunately never mentioned this. The only thing I came up with was ‘brother of the deer’. It’s completely wrong, because it requires false conjugation and mixing several elven languages, but the meaning somehow stuck and was one of the reasons I came up with this story. So I thought I’d put it in and give his name this meaning in this story, because if I don’t I’ll probably never get to used it because, like I said, it’s completely wrong.

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Previous chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4

Lotr fic: "Child of the Wilderness" Chapter 4

naurring — Wed, 14 May 2008 10:34:26 GMT

Disclaimer: Still the same, nothing is mine, all Tolkien’s and Co.

Word count: 1696/6507

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Chapter 4

Glorfindel hastily slipped from his horse’s back, as soon as he rode into the courtyard, pulling the unconscious elf down with him to make his way as fast as possible with his charge in his arms towards the house. More than one elf had to jump out of his way to avoid being run over, giving him confused looks.

Glorfindel briefly considered bringing the elf to the Halls of Healing, but he quickly changed his mind and headed for his own chambers instead. It would take too much time to make room for him there, overfilled as it was due to the long and hard winter. The elf was cold as death and Glorfindel’s own rooms were much closer.

He instantly set the elf down on his bed, pulling the covers over him to offer some first warmth. He hurried over to his wardrobe and pulled out any blankets, or clothes that could serve as one, to pile them over the elf in the bed as well, whose lips had a quite disturbing shade of blue. Luckily he always had some stones to warm in the fireplace since it had turned this cold and he hurried to pull them out, wrapped in towels or tunics, and to push them under the blankets, close to the elf’s body.

He was barely finished when the door opened and Elrond strode into his room, looking alarmed. “What happened?” he asked the blond elf, studying him with a healer’s gaze. “I have been told that you returned and that you were in immediate need of my help.”

“Not me.” Glorfindel extended a hand and pointed towards his bed.

Elrond quietly walked up to the bed, studying the stranger with a furrowed brow. Extending a hand he put it on his cheek, eyes widening in alarm when he felt the cold emanating from the elf in front of him. “What happened?”

“It is cold in the woods,” Glorfindel simply answered.

Elrond stared at him, trying to make sense of his words. Then his mind made the connection. “Don’t tell me this is-“ He broke off with astonishment, his gaze travelling to the balcony from where the wood could be seen in the distance.

Glorfindel nodded silently, following Elrond’s gaze, shuddering slightly as he thought about what it would have meant for the elf if he hadn’t been found.

Elrond took a deep breath, visibly shaken by this news. “Valar. I…” Sitting down hard on the edge of the bed he stared at the elf, not knowing what to say in his surprise. “Just where did you find him?!”

“In the woods,” Glorfindel answered calmly. “I told you he was there.”

“You did,” Elrond agreed, though some part of him still had a hard time believing Glorfindel’s words. But he had seen many things in his long life as a healer and this certainly wasn’t the most amazing thing to happen.

Swallowing hard he resolutely pushed those thoughts away. This was not the time for discussion. Wherever he had come from, the elf needed help, and he needed it now. Bending over the still form Elrond studied it closely. “Was he unconscious when you found him?”

Glorfindel nodded. “Unconscious and nearly frozen to death.”

“He certainly would have if you had left him out there.” Examining the elf closer Elrond added: “In fact, he might still do. We need to get him warmed up, and quickly.”

Glorfindel nodded, gaze anxiously fixed on the elf’s face, worry lying like a sick knot in his stomach at the sight of the lips, still the same shade of sickly blue as when he had brought him in.

Elrond rose from the bed, moving towards the door. “I’ll get a few supplies and be back as soon as possible.” Having left the room he ran as fast as he could towards the healing wing. The elf was cold as ice and he was already barely breathing or showing any other signs of being alive. If left in the woods, he would have died within the hour. It was nothing short of a miracle that Glorfindel had found him. It might have saved his life.

Glorfindel did not need to wait long for Elrond to return. A short time later he was back and the room began to fill with the scent of the herbs and supplies he had brought with him. Glorfindel swallowed hard, staring at the eerie utensils now sitting on the nightstand. They made him wish he would need this kind of attention.

Elrond worked quickly and efficiently, doing his best to warm up the frozen elves body. Glorfindel turned his head away in disgust not wanting to see watch Elrond’s efforts to warm the elf, from the inside out. He was more than glad when they were finally finished and the elf rested undisturbed in the bed again, covered with warm blankets.

Elrond sat down on the end of the bed once more, putting a hand on the unconscious elf’s face, content that his temperature seemed to risen somewhat. Shaking his head in disbelief he stared at him. “I still can’t believe this whole story… an elf… alone in the woods… living with a pack of wolves…?” He watched the strange elf, then, receiving no answer, his gaze moved towards his friend. The blond’s gaze was tightly fixed on the dark haired elf and Elrond smiled when he saw the doting and worried expression on his face.

“Most amazingly, he seems to be completely healthy, even if terribly malnourished and half frozen, but that is to be expected after a winter like this one.” He certainly wouldn’t have thought that possible, not after seeing some of the scars on the elf’s body. Teeth marks. It was clear he had had his fare share in pack fights, and it was nothing short of a miracle that he seemed to be in such a good bodily condition. Bite wound could leave nasty infections in the right circumstances, even for an elf.

“I wonder where he comes from,” Glorfindel said softly, interrupting Elrond’s musings with his own thoughts.

Elrond furrowed his brow, staring at the elf lying as dead in the bed. “I’d like to know that as well. It seems strange that he could have spent so much time out there without anybody noticing him, or missing him. Surely he has family.”

“There needs to be a way to find out.”

“There should be,” Elrond agreed. “I’ll do my best to find out about our mysterious friend’s identity.”

Glorfindel nodded slowly in acceptance. As the immediate danger of the elf’s death vanished now, he could take the time to properly study his charge. Despite his paleness and the slight blue of his lips he was also very beautiful.

“Will… you take him to the Healing wings?” he asked softly, finally pulling his gaze away from his bed and looking at Elrond.

Elrond sighed deeply, this question apparently already having plagued him for some time. “I’m not sure I have room for him. I can’t remember the Halls of Healing ever being so filled up as just now, but this winter… He would certainly have to share his room, and I’m not sure this is the best course of action, neither for him, nor for his roommate. If he wakes up and finds himself in unfamiliar surroundings with unfamiliar people… We do not know how much wolf he really is on the inside.”

“If you want…” Glorfindel calmly offered, “He can stay here for now.”

Elrond smiled thankfully, clearly relieved that he did not think about where to put a wild elf like this one. “I’d be most grateful if he could stay here for a little while. The Valar know I am busy enough, without having to think about what he might do to the other sick in the Healing Halls.”

He rose from the bed, starting to collect what he had brought with him. “I will send someone to take care of him, so that you are free again and don’t need to spend your time here.”

“I will look after him,” Glorfindel quickly interrupted, feeling a strange need to take care of this elf himself. “It is no trouble.”

Elrond hesitated a moment, already on his way out of the chamber. “Are you sure? I could easily find someone to do it for you.”

“No.” Glorfindel firmly shook his head. “I found him. I can’t just leave him alone now.”

Elrond nodded in agreement. “I don’t think he will wake anytime soon, but if he does, please come and fetch me. And, don’t worry,” he added, as he saw the concerned expression with which Glorfindel rwas looking at the elf, and his furrowed brow. “If he survived up to now, chances are high he won’t die anymore. Just let him sleep for now, and rest.”

After Elrond had left the room once more, Glorfindel collapsed in his chair next to the bed. In some way this had always been his intention, he had wanted to find the elf and give him the chance to return to his own kind. Surely that was better than to be forced to live the hard and dangerous life of a wolf.

But now that this elf was really here, he started to doubt that he had done him any good, aside from saving his life. In the woods the elf had acted like a wolf, it was only too reasonable that he also thought like one. And a wolf would not be that delighted to wake up and find itself in a strange place, out of the woods, away from the security of its pack, surrounded by strange and in his opinion dangerous smells and creatures. The elf would probably get a heart attack in the morning.

Knowing that it would lead to nothing to rack his brain over this, Glorfindel settled back in his chair. There was no real possibility to know how the elf would react. The only way to find out was to wait. Eyes fixed on the sleeping elf in his bed Glorfindel waited for the morning to come, keeping vigil.

++++

Previous chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3

FFVII ficlet: "Why Rufus has people who think for him"

naurring — Tue, 13 May 2008 15:52:31 GMT

For _ice_lady_. Be careful what you ask for, my dear.

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Title: Why Rufus has people who think for him
Pairing: telling would spoil the fun
Disclaimer: Nothing and nobody is mine, as much as I’d like that.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Drawing conclusions before knowing all the facts could have a bad outcome...
Warning: AU, crack
Author's note: If you ever go to Disneyland and buy a 30g round lollipop in the candyshop... think of this. Muahahaha!
Word count: 906

“My tongue is bleeding!”

“You licked it too hard. You need to be careful or it hurts.”

Rufus instantly froze as these words drifted through the closed door; what he had been thinking about having vanished into nothing, leaving all of his attention for the conversation going on behind the door.

“Easiest thing is to just take the whole thing.” Reno, judging by the overly loud, cheerful voice.

“I can’t.” Rude’s quieter baritone. “It’s too big. I can’t get it all into my mouth.”

Rufus literally forgot to breath, needing to extent a hand to hold onto the wall for support.

“You’re just not doing it right.” Reno again, a determined tone in his voice. “Wait, I’ll show you.”

Rufus felt his eyes grow huge. Of all things that could possibly happen between those two when they were off duty he would never have thought of *this*. Reno and Rude had both been in his services for countless years and not once would he have suspected that even one of them was inclined in that way. It would just have been too good to be true.

The silence following Reno’s last statement left little to Rufus’ imagination of what was just happening inside the room. He could only admire Rude’s self-control, who didn’t utter even the smallest of sounds.

“See?” Reno could be heard once more. “It’s no problem.”

“You always had a big mouth,” Rude remarked. “But that one is much smaller. I could put all of it into my mouth as well.”

Rufus needed to swallow hard, feeling his pants tighten uncomfortably. How many nights had he been dreaming about things like these, about Rude’s strong, naked body next to his own, always having been certain there wasn’t even the tiniest chance the big Turk would ever agree to those things… And now he grew witness of Rude trying to give lick Reno off…

“Besides, I like to be actually able to move my tongue. This thing is so big, I’d probably rather choke myself if I put it in too far.”

Reno only sighed in response. “I never met anybody who made a simple thing like this more difficult. There’s nothing about it, you put it in your mouth, you pull it out again whilst licking over it with your tongue, you put it back in…”

“It’s just too *big*,” Rude grumbled. “All I can do is lick it, but it makes my tongue bleed.”

Rufus felt his knees grow shaky and he leaned completely against the wall, staring at the closed door in disbelief.

“Perhaps you just need to practice more,” Reno stated. “Personally,” movements could be heard and steps advancing on the door. “I can’t wait all day for you to finally get finished. We’ll see us on duty later.”

The door opened and Reno stepped out. “Oh, hey Rufus!” Reno greeted him cheerfully, as he saw Rufus leaning against the wall. Closing the door behind him he then proceeded to make his way down the hallway, whistling, apparently completely at ease.

Rufus stared after him, thoughts whirling like a snowstorm in his head. After a few moments he pushed away from the wall, advancing on the door in front of him.

Rude raised his eyebrow, surprised, as he saw Rufus step into the room. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Uh,” was all Rufus was able to say, as he approached Rude uncomfortably, the bulge between his legs a quite a hindrance.

The eyebrows rose even higher as Rude noticed the state of his boss. Oh, how Rufus wished he could read the expression behind those impenetrable sunglasses. “Rude,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. “I am sorry; I didn’t want to eavesdrop, but…” He tried to calm his breathing, to be able to speak. “I would never have dared to think you would agree to do such a thing, but…” Unsure about how to properly formulate his request Rufus simply extended a hand and put it on Rude’s groin.

He could feel the large man jump under his touch and try to take a step back, but the table he was leaning against kept him from moving away. “Rufus!”

“You have no idea how many times I have dreamed of this, but I always thought you only liked women; but now that I ha-“

“I *do* only like women!” Rude interrupted him, shifting uncomfortably under Rufus’ grasp, who hadn’t moved his hand one bit.

“Oh, no need to try to hide it, I heard what you were doing with Reno, you-“

“And *what* exactly did you hear me doing with Reno?” Rude interrupted him again, his eyes large with astonishment under the cover of his sunglasses.

“Oh, everything,” Rufus answered with a slight smile. “I heard how he told you to put him into your mouth, and how you wanted him to lick you…”

Rude stared at his boss for a moment, his mind slowly processing about what Rufus was actually talking. Then slowly, nearly hesitantly, he lifted one of his hands, showing Rufus a large lollipop he had been eating; small stains of red clinging to its white, glistening surface.

Rufus only stared at the lollipop, understanding nothing, until his gaze fell on the stick of a second, already eaten lollipop on the table, his mind finally making the link, nearly not hearing Rude’s offer.

“But… I can give you a lollipop… if you want…”

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FFVII drabble: "Want to see my snake?"

naurring — Fri, 09 May 2008 21:04:36 GMT

Dear _ice_lady_ and sphinxofthenile. Would you please stop to speak of Rude and snakes or similiar topics in my presence? The outcome could be this:

Title: Want to see my snake?
Pairing: Rude/Reno
Disclaimer: Nothing and nobody is mine, as much as I’d like that.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Reno learns that not everybody speaks in metaphors
Warning: AU, bad puns, danger of brain explosion for the reader
Author's note: Go scream at _ice_lady_ and sphinxofthenile for brainbleach. It's their doing.
Word count: 524

Reno sighed blissfully, snuggling up to Rude, resting his head on his naked chest. “This was great,” he said admiringly, his fingers absentmindedly brushing over Rude’s chest. A grin spread over his face. “Who would have thought you’re so skilled with your tongue when you finally manage to open your mouth.”

Something cold sliding over his butt suddenly made him jump up, shrieking, and he pressed close to the wall, his heart beating high in his throat. His gaze searched for his weapons, but they were at the far end of the room, where their clothes had been dropped, and now he could see the covers moving rhythmically, like a wave, a tsunami racing in his direction.

“Rude!” Reno squeaked, feeling his breath hitch. “Something touched my butt?”

Rude raised his eyebrows at him, apparently not having noticed that his covers had mysteriously come alive. “You didn’t complain about that tonight.”

“It’s moving!” Reno managed to point a shaky finger at the thing under the covers, before quickly jumped over it to the foot end of the bed as it nearly touched his feat. The bulge under the cover followed his movement and turned around, still approaching him. “It’s stalking me!” Reno’s voice had taken on a clearly panicked note. “Rude! Do something!”

Rude’s gaze finally fell on the thing moving under the covers. He chuckled quietly, as he saw what was making Reno whimper and dance a bizarre dance to avoid it. “Oh, that’s Agnes. No need to be afraid.”

Reno’s eyes grew impossibly white and he froze in surprise. “Agnes?!”

“Indeed.” Rude reached under the covers and a moment later he pulled forth the biggest snake Reno had ever seen, white with big bright yellow spots.

Reno took back a step in shock, to bring a healthy distance between himself and the snake, but as he had already been at the foot of the bed all he did was stumble backwards over the edge, hitting the ground with a loud thud. For a few moments it the room was silent, safe for Reno’s painful groaning, than he fought himself up onto his knees just enough to be able to look over the edge of the bed. “A *snake*?” he asked, not believing what had just happened.

Rude furrowed his brow, looking lovingly at the snake that was now hanging over his shoulders, her head just a few inches away from Rude’s face, her searching tongue nearly touching his lips. “She’s not just a snake. Agnes is an n Albino Royal Python. She really is a nice girl. Aren’t you, my darling?” Lovingly he rubbed his nose against her mouth.

Reno nearly fainted as he saw this. “Why is she in your *bed*?”

“She always sleeps in my bed. It’s warm and dark here. It makes her feel safe.”

“It certainly makes *me* feel safe,” Reno squeaked, carefully watching Agnes who was staring at him intently. Than part of their conversation from last night rose to the surfaces of his mind and he swallowed hard. “So… when you asked me last night if I wanted to see your snake… you actually meant *this*?!”

++++

This http://www.mesmera.com/Images/Mesmera_Python.jpg is the snake in question. Big, uh?

Lotr fic: "Waiting on the battledield (WT)" Chapters 3 + 4

naurring — Thu, 08 May 2008 12:27:36 GMT

lene_de begged for me to continue my fics and I told her to tell me which story she wanted to see first. She choose this, so I sat down to get Chapter 4 done. Unfortunately when I wanted to post it I realized that apparently I had forgotten to post Chapter 3. Um yeah. So you get two chapters now. have fun.

Title: Waiting on the battlefield (working title), Chapter one
Disclaimer: All Tolkien’s
Word count: 1983+1922/8380
Pairing: glorfindel/Erestor
Rating: PG-13
Warning: AN says it all, Battle of the last Alliance, so character death, blood and just plain death
Summary: Sometimes you find the best things where you least expect them
AN: 3430 S.A., Battle of the last Alliance

++++

Previous Chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2

++++

Chapter 3

He seriously hadn’t expected he’d see Erestor alive the next time, but to his utter surprise the boy still breathed when he checked on him in the evening. As well as in the next morning. The tent was mostly dark when he quietly made his way through the rows of the sick. Each time he came here he saw elves having vanished from their beds and other people lying on them, a gruesome sight. When he finally arrived at Erestor’s side the youth did not seem to have moved at all, still lying in the same position as when Glorfindel had first seen him here.
He wasn’t quite sure anymore about the boy’s chances of survival. Elrond seemed quite confident now that he would live, after already having survived two days. His fever had lessened, even though he was still far too hot for his own good. Gently Glorfindel caressed the boy’s face, hoping he’d feel he wasn’t alone. By now he already expected to feel the unnatural heat of his fevered skin, but what he did not expect were the dark eyes to open. They stared at him, glazed with fever, but awake nonetheless.
Glorfindel needed a moment to regain his composure. Then a happy smile spread on his face. “Erestor”, he greeted the young elf softly.
The dark eyes closed again for a moment. “Am I alive?” His voice was hoarse and barely audible and Glorfindel cringed at the thought of how painful speaking must be for him.
“Yes,” he said, smiling happily. “You’re alive. And I don’t think you’ll die anytime soon.”
“That’s good.” A weak smile appeared on the bruised features, before they contorted slightly with pain as he tried to swallow, trying to moisten his dry mouth.
“Do you want some water?” Glorfindel asked gently, already rising to his feet to get what he was offering.
Erestor nodded slowly, opening his eyes once more in expectation of a cool drink.
“I’ll get something for you.” Glorfindel hastened to find what he had promised and returned some time later with a mug of fresh water to the young elf’s side.
Glorfindel’s face contorted in sympathetic pain as he carefully lifted Erestor’s head, holding the mug to his lip. Greedily the mug was emptied, even though even this simple movement caused him pain. After that Erestor lay on his bed, gasping breathlessly from the effort of having to stop breathing for short moments to be able to drink.
Glorfindel said nothing further. The boy clearly wasn’t in any condition to take part in a conversation. Making himself comfortable he put a hand on Erestor’s arm, just sitting next to him, silently, lending him support. He remained far longer at his side than he had done the previous times. He should probably leave to take care of other things, but he simply couldn’t bring himself to leave, now that he knew the youth was awake and felt his presence.
“Here you are.” Startled he looked up to the person standing next to him. Elrond carefully sat down the supplies he had brought. “They are looking for you.” There was another elf behind Elrond, but he remained in the background, waiting for instructions from the head healer.
Glorfindel sighed, looking ruefully at the sleeping elf. “I know. I just couldn’t bring myself to leave him.” Hesitantly he released the young elf’s hand, caressing his face. “I guess I better go now, before they come in here to look for me.”
Elrond nodded, leafing through the things he had brought. “I need to take a look at his injuries and change the bandages. Perhaps you want to stay until I’m finished.”
Instantly Glorfindel reached for the pale hand once more, thankful to be able to stay just a little longer. At the same time a sick knot appeared in his stomach at the thought of what Erestor would have to endure in a few moments.
Elrond gazed at his friend with a sad look on his face. “This has to be done. I wish I could spare him the pain and the discomfort, but I just don’t have the proper supplies in a place like this and he’s in no condition to be moved.”
Glorfindel nodded. “I know. I guess the pain is better than being dead, but still… I don’t want him to be in pain.”
Elrond sighed, waving to the elf accompanying him to step nearer. “Well then. There’s no need in delaying this. I’ll try to be quick and bring him as little pain as possible.”
“I know you do.” Glorfindel knew that his friend only wanted the best for the young elf, but he still had to fight hard not to scream at him as he felt the hand tighten around his and heard Erestor suck in the air as soon as Elrond lifted the thin blanket and started removing the bandages.
He only watched Elrond work for a few seconds, turning his head away as soon as he saw the wounds revealed. If he’d look he had no doubt that he’d vomit. The time until the two healers were finally finished seemed to be endless and Glorfindel had to fight hard not to pull them away from the young elf. He could tell that Erestor tried to bear the pain, but still now and then a pained moan slipped from his lips and his grip on Glorfindel’s hand was so tight the warrior thought his fingers would break.
“You can look”, Elrond’s voice sounded after a seemingly endless time. “I’m finished.”
Hesitantly Glorfindel turned his head, peering at the three elves. The bandage around Erestor’s chest had been replaced and the cast around his leg gleamed likewise new and white. Relieved Glorfindel dared to turn completely. Erestor was breathing heavily and was lying with his eyes closed, but he did seem to be awake.
“Are you alright?” Glorfindel asked softly, bending down to stroke the boy’s damp hair. Erestor nodded weakly, eyes squeezed closed to shut out the pain.
The second healer rose to his feet and left as Elrond pulled the blanket back over his patient’s body. “I’m finished. I won’t bother you again until tomorrow.” Soothingly he stroked Erestor’s healthy leg. “Rest.” Rising, Elrond stepped away from the two elves to leave, motioning Glorfindel to follow him.
Glorfindel’s first impulse was to stand up and follow his friend, but he couldn’t possibly leave the young elf in a moment like this. Erestor was still fighting the pain left from the treatment and was holding fast on Glorfindel’s hand. Lying down next to him, Glorfindel gently caressed his face, trying to soothe him and help him bear the pain.
It took some moments, but finally Erestor’s breath slowed and the pain seemed to lessen. Slowly the dark eyes opened, staring at his companion.
Glorfindel smiled at him. “Does it still hurt?” he asked, worriedly.
“It always hurts”, Erestor whispered tiredly.
Glorfindel sighed. “I know. Elrond’s doing his best, but in a place like this…”
“It’s not his fault. I knew something like this could happen when I left.”
“I doubt it was your choice to go to war”, Glorfindel grumbled, sitting up. “I reported you to Thranduil. He needs to know how many of his people are still alive and who.”
Erestor nodded, thoughtfully. “Have you heard anything of my father?”
Sadly Glorfindel shook his head. “I asked some people and looked him in the lists of the fallen.” Glorfindel swallowed hard at this, remembering how frighteningly long those lists were. “But I couldn’t find him.” Seeing Erestor’s sad face he quickly added, “That doesn’t mean anything. It is extremely difficult to keep track of who died and who didn’t. It might have been an oversight or he was put on another list. He might be hurt and not able to tell who he is…”
“Or he might be dead,” Erestor sadly continued.
“He might. You shouldn’t mourn him yet, there’s as big a chance that he lives as that he doesn’t.” Glorfindel hated to lie to the youth, but he didn’t know how to reassure him in any other way. The truth was that Mirkwood had suffered the biggest losses and that Erestor’s father was probably amongst them.
Erestor knew Glorfindel only wanted to spare him the truth, but he knew as much as the warrior that it was unlikely he’d see his father again.
Gently Glorfindel moved his fingers through the dark hair. “I’m sorry. I’d rather not leave you alone, but there’s so much to do…”
Erestor nodded, understandingly. “Go. I’m tired, anyway.”
“I’ll come back later,” Glorfindel promised, but Erestor already seemed to be asleep.
++++
Elrond was waiting for when he stepped through the makeshift door.
“I’m sorry,” Glorfindel apologized. “I couldn’t leave him alone with this.”
Elrond nodded. Taking a steaming cup of tea from the table he walked over to one of the chairs, sitting down. “I gathered as much.” Sipping his tea he waited for his friend to sit down next to him.
“How is he?” Glorfindel asked, the worry in his voice evident.
“His wounds are healing.” Elrond slowly took a sip of his tea before continuing. “Not fast, but they heal, though it will take time until he’s well again.”
“Is there no possibility of taking him away from here? This is no place for a sick elf!”
Elrond slowly shook his head. “Moving him could prove fatal because of his wounds. There’s no way of taking him away until they have healed further.” Sighing he moved his hand through his hair. “I don’t even want to think about how long we’ll have to stay in this godforsaken place until everybody is well enough to make the trip back to their homes.”
“At least they still have homes they can return to. Just imagine how things would be now if we had lost.”
“I’d rather not,” Elrond answered dryly. Thoughtfully he sipped his tea. Glorfindel waited patiently. “About homes…” The half elf continued after some moments of silence. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Which is?” Glorfindel looked at his friend, waiting for what was to come. The half elf didn’t seem to be too well, he looked tired and overworked.
“I won’t return to Lindon,” Elrond broke to him, waiting for the warrior’s reaction.
Glorfindel looked at him, surprised. “And where do you want to go then?”
Elrond smiled slightly, thinking of the beautiful place he had chosen for his new home. “Rivendell.”
“Oh. There.” Glorfindel had never been to the place, but he had already heard much of the valley, even though it had only recently been built up by the half elf.
“I’d like you to come with me. Of course only if you want to.” Pleadingly Elrond looked at his friend. “I’d be very glad to have you at my side.”
Glorfindel sat on his chair in silence, looking at the dirty floor. “Rivendell. I heard it’s a beautiful place.”
“It is,” Elrond agreed. “You don’t have to stay, of course. You can always leave if you wish so.” Elrond shrugged, unsure of what to say further.
Glorfindel nodded slowly. “I’ll think about it. We won’t go there tomorrow, anyway.”
Elrond smiled slightly, draining his cup. “You’re always welcome there.” Rising he moved towards the table, putting down his cup. “I have to go back to work. There are wounded men waiting for my help.”
Glorfindel rose as well, moving towards the entrance of the tent. “Take care of him,” he told him, nodding in the direction where Erestor slept. “And Elrond,” he called after his friend as Elrond was about to step behind the curtain. “Sleep.”
Elrond smiled at him tiredly. “Later. Once I’m finished.”
Shaking his head Glorfindel watched as the half elf vanished inside. It wouldn’t be long and he’d be one of the elves lying there.

+++

Chapter 4

The loud snoring next to him didn’t bother Erestor too much when he woke from a deep and dreamless sleep. There were hundreds of people in this tent and he had long grown used to the noises accompanying this. He himself did not breathe very quietly since the battle. Blinking sleepily he tried to shift into a more comfortable position. He’d spent days and weeks lying on his back by now and he craved nothing more than to sleep on his stomach.
Something light caught his attention and his eyes widened in surprise when he saw Glorfindel sitting next to him, slumped forward and clearly deeply asleep. The warrior was an amazing sight, tall and noble. Erestor had been sure that he’d never talk to him again after their encounter on the battlefield. Why should a hero like him associate with a common worker like himself? Every time the warrior left him he was sure he’d not come back, and yet he did, over and over again, to Erestor’s utter surprise and bliss.
He’d never imagined something like this would happen, not in his brightest dreams, him talking to a famed hero, in such a casual, enjoyable way. The blond elf jerked in his sleep and the snoring briefly stopped, before it continued. Erestor couldn’t help the shy smile that spread over his face. It surely was not a word usually coming to one’s mind thinking of Glorfindel of Gondolin, but caught in his wild dreams the tall elf certainly looked terribly cute.
Watching his sleeping companion he patiently waited for the elf to wake. Glorfindel woke with a start as, once more, Erestor shifted slightly, looking about confused, not quite sure where he was and how he had gotten there. His gaze fell upon Erestor, who returned the gaze, a big grin on his face, as the warrior blinked at him, sleepily and confused. Shaking his head to clear his mind Glorfindel moved his hand over his face, brushing away the last remnants of sleep. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, feeling deeply embarrassed at having fallen asleep in a place like this.
“There’s no need to feel sorry,” Erestor softly answered, his voice still weak, even if it already sounded much better than in the beginning. “Shouldn’t you be in your tent and sleep if you’re that tired?”
“That’s where I was heading,” Glorfindel admitted. “I just wanted to see how you were doing first. I need to have fallen asleep when sitting down for a moment…” He shook his head, not quite knowing himself how he had ended up asleep next to the young elf in the healing tent. “Actually I think I was just looking for a dry place to sleep because there’s a leak in my tent and the whole thing is flooded.” Smiling he looked at his young charge.
“And then you thought you could just throw me out of my bed and use it yourself, so that you didn’t have to go through the trouble of looking for something.” Erestor smiled back at him, feeling a little silly, bantering with the famed balrog slayer like this.
“Sure. It’s far easier to just take from the sick and crippled.” Sighing he moved a hand through his hair, slightly rumpled from sleep. “Do you have any idea how late it is?”
Erestor shook his head, his smile slowly fading away. “Why do you always come here?” he suddenly heard himself say. He hadn’t quite intended to ask this, but the question had been troubling him for weeks now and now that he had spoken his mind it was just as well, he’d finally receive an answer to this riddle.
Glorfindel looked at him, surprised. “Why I come here?” The question clearly confused him, not quite knowing what exactly Erestor meant with this. “Am I… disturbing you? I won’t come anymore if you don’t want me to.”
“No!” Erestor answered quickly, realizing the warrior had slightly misunderstood the question. “I don’t mind at all. It’s nice to have someone to talk to without having to tell everything a dozen times because your neighbours are already gone again. I just… don’t understand it. You’re…” Helplessly he looked for words. Finding none he finally settled for, “You’re Glorfindel. And I… I am just Erestor. I don’t understand why you always come to me, especially when you’re this tired.”
Silently Glorfindel sat there, looking at his young friend, searching for an answer. “I just like to come,” he finally said. He shrugged uncertainly, smiling shyly.
Erestor looked at him, brow furrowed, not quite knowing what to do with this answer.
Glorfindel quickly rose, realizing the situation had become awkward beyond control. “I’m sorry. I should leave now before I fall asleep once more. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
Erestor nodded, watching the warrior turn to leave. “Sleep well,” he managed to say, before he was gone.
Glorfindel nearly fled out of the tent. Erestor’s question had disturbed him greatly, especially as it brushed a topic he had often thought about himself and hadn’t found an answer to. Erestor was by far not the first injured elf he had seen or which he had saved, not even the youngest of them. So why was he that worried about this particular elf and hadn’t been about the others?
He instantly crashed into Elrond when he left the main part of the tent. Elrond managed to catch his footing, but a bowl fell from his hands and to the floor.
“Glorfindel!” Elrond scolded, quickly putting everything else he held in his hands onto the table. “What on Arda has gotten into you?”
Glorfindel stood still for a moment, shocked about the collision, then he bent down to pick up the fallen bowl. “I’m sorry, Elrond. I didn’t mean to.”
“You really should be more careful,” Elrond answered angrily. “Our supplies are few and I really can’t spare any of them just because you didn’t look where you were going.”
“I’m sorry.” Glorfindel stepped up to his friend, turning the bowl in his hands. “Here. There’s a crack, but you should still be able to use it.”
Elrond took the bowl, examining it himself with an annoyed expression. “It could have been broken.” His gaze travelled to his friend, examining him. “What is the matter?”
“Nothing. I’m just tired.”
“You’re moving pretty fast for that,” Elrond noted, raising his eyebrows.
Glorfindel shrugged. “It’s nothing. I’m just… a little embarrassed.” He smiled awkwardly, sitting down on one of the chairs, realizing he wouldn’t get out of this that easily. “I just wanted to check on Erestor for a few minutes and somehow fell asleep on his bed.”
“And you’re telling *me* to sleep more?”
“You should. You’ve got dark circles under your eyes.”
Elrond left his work for some moments to sit down next to his friend, using this opportunity to take a short break. “How could I sleep when lives depend on me?” he whispered.
Glorfindel didn’t answer, knowing this kind of feeling quite well. For a short time they simply sat there, in silent agreement, needing no words to communicate their feelings.
“Thranduil’s leaving,” Glorfindel broke the silence after some moments.
Elrond looked at him, surprised. “Leaving? For Mirkwood?”
Glorfindel nodded. “Yes. He told me shortly before I came here. He said he just wants to take his people home and that they’re nothing but a burden in a place like this, using the supplies.”
Elrond snorted. “And what about those of his people that are still unable to travel? Or the fact that we still need every hand we can get?”
“I don’t think he’s thinking about this,” Glorfindel admitted. “Actually I don’t think he’s thinking at all, though I can understand this to some degree. His father’s dead, he’s suddenly king, of a realm that has more than its fare share of problems on top of it, more than half of his warriors are dead or crippled… He’s too young. I think it’s too much for him. He just wants to get home, away from all of this.”
“That still doesn’t excuse the fact that he’s leaving many of his people behind without a possibility of returning home for the time being.”
Glorfindel sighed. “I know. But I can’t keep him back. He’s king now.” His gaze involuntarily travelled towards the flap that led deeper into the tent. “Erestor’s from Mirkwood as well.”
Elrond followed his gaze, smiling gently. “You like him.”
Glorfindel’s head snapped around look at the half elf. “Why do have the impression you don’t quite mean it the way you say it?”
“Oh Glorfindel!” Elrond urged. “You like him. You’re here every day, even more than once, and when we still thought he’d die you were morbidly depressed. I’m not stupid. Do you really think I don’t realize what you’re up to?”
Glorfindel’s eyes narrowed. “Elrond! How can you say this? I’m no paedophile!”
“Glorfindel, please. He’s young, especially compared to you, but he’s by far no child, especially after this battle. He’s a grown elf.”
“He’s barely reached his majority,” Glorfindel mumbled, not liking the direction this conversation was taking at all.
“But he already reached it. There’s nothing wrong with liking him.”
“I don’t like him,” Glorfindel mumbled, crossing his arms defiantly in front of him. “I mean… I like him, but I don’t *like* him.”
“If you don’t why are you spending so much time with him? Why do you want to know every detail about his health and his injuries? There are more than enough other elves in a similar situation, but you’re not asking me anything more than if they’re still alive about them.”
Glorfindel shrugged, sighing quietly. “I don’t know. He asked me the same thing.”
A smile spread on Elrond’s face. “So that’s what caused you to run. You don’t like the answer, do you?”
“There is no answer. Do you really think I’d take advantage of an injured elf like this? Making him think I care for him just to get into his bed?”
Elrond gently shook his head. “I would never imply that you only want his body. I don’t think you do, but I think you’re lying to yourself if you accuse me of thinking it, because you don’t like the other option, namely that it’s not his *body* you want, but his heart. You have got no control about who you have feelings for. You shouldn’t be so reluctant to this idea. There’s nothing wrong with it.” He rose to his feet, leaving his friend on the chair. “Well, I’ve got some work to do. And you should go to sleep; you look as if you’re falling asleep on your feet. Yes,” Elrond answered, as he saw Glorfindel open his mouth. “I’ll go to sleep as well. Later.”
Glorfindel stared at the half elf for some moments, a strange feeling in his chest due to his words. But Elrond was ignoring him, having turned back to his work. Grumbling Glorfindel rose to his feet, making his way towards his tent. He wasn’t sure if he liked what Elrond was implying but somehow he got the sneaking feeling that the half elf wasn’t entirely wrong about this matter. Erestor was important to him, though he had not the faintest idea why. He reached his tent and sat down hard on his makeshift bed. He didn’t want to think about this now. He tightly closed his eyes, willing his body to fall asleep, to stop his mind from dwelling on these thoughts.

++++

Lotr fic: "Flower in the Sand" Chapter 1

naurring — Wed, 07 May 2008 13:03:44 GMT

Tonight a bunny crawled under the covers, despite all the precautions I have taken to keep them away from me, and once I tried to get out of bed it jumped me. So I wrote the first chappy of yet another WIP. And for once I'm glad that FF.net sends me this annoying mails to tell me a new story just got published by me (as if I didn't know that already) because in the second I had posted the fic I had forgotten about it and probably would never have posted it on lj. Someone wants my brain? You just need to patch the leak holes.

Title: Flower in the Sand
Disclaimer: All Tolkien’s
Word count: 1136/1136
Pairing: ?
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Slight violence, prejudices
Summary: An experiment has a slightly different outcome than expected
Timeline: Gondolin, years before its fall
AN: Don't be shocked about the 'boy' part, he's past his majority, but compared to Glorfindel...

++++

„My Lord.“

Glorfindel furrowed his brow, slightly annoyed about being disturbed during dinner.

“He is here.”

His angered expression instantly turned into a big grin and he put his napkin on the table, rising hastily.

“He is waiting for you in the entrance hall.”

Glorfindel nodded in acknowledgement, hurrying past the servant, towards the entrance hall. Now that the boy had arrived he could finally begin his project.

A skinny, young boy was waiting for him, head lowered, his dirty-blond hair covering his face, whilst his hands nervously fumbled with the hem of his shirt. He did not look up as Glorfindel entered the room, but lowered his head even further.

Gaelion, Glorfindel’s head servant, bowed before his master, stepping aside dutifully as Glorfindel strode towards the boy.

Glorfindel stopped in front of him, waiting for the boy to greet him. But the young elf remained silent and continued to play with his shirt, not even looking up at him. Glorfindel waited for some moments, but when the boy still did not react in any way he grabbed the boy’s hair to force him to look at him and gave him a slap that made his ears ring.

The boy gasped in shock, his hands releasing their hold on the shirt, as he staggered back, his balance lost from the impact, but Glorfindel’s grip on his hair was tight and he held him upright.

“I am your Lord and teacher,” Glorfindel told him firmly. “You *will* greet me properly. I won’t accept such disrespectful behaviour. Understood?”

The boy nodded hastily, or at least tried to, not quite succeeding as Glorfindel still held him by his hair. The Lord of the House of the Golden Flower could feel him shaking under his grasp and his breath gasped loudly in the quiet of the room. Glorfindel released him, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Now?”

He saw the boy swallow hard, trying hard to regain his composure enough to bow before his Lord. Finally he managed an insecure bow, his voice shaking as he whispered. “My Lord.”

This was far from a proper greeting, but for now Glorfindel decided to not follow this further. Scaring the boy right at the beginning so much that he would be shaking and whimpering as soon as Glorfindel even looked at him would lead to nothing.

“What is your name?” Glorfindel asked, calmer now, and in a friendlier voice.

“E-“ The boy had to swallow hard, once more, before he could speak. “Erestor, my Lord.”

Glorfindel smiled slightly at the ‘my Lord’. The boy seemed to have some manners after all.

“Good. Erestor it is.” Then he proceeded to thoroughly examine the boy. Extending his hand he moved to lift the boy’s head, grasping his chin. Turning his head to all sides, he thoroughly studied the boy, eyes narrowed. He could feel him still shaking and see the fear in his eyes. He was pretty, Erestor, but nothing special. He had a normal peasant face, a normal peasant stature and probably a normal peasant intelligence. In other words, just what Glorfindel needed. And he seemed to be healthy. The last thing he needed was a sickly subject who would influence the outcome of this project in any undesired way.

“I don’t want to see any more disrespectfulness from you,” Glorfindel said firmly, staring down his nose at the boy. “I hope you know how lucky you are in being brought here and being given the chance to learn how to read and write, among other things. You better use this chance and don’t endanger it by improper behaviour. “

The boy nodded hastily, the only colour in his pale face the red imprint of Glorfindel’s hand.

“You will go with Gaelion now. He will show you your chamber, explain you the rules you will have to follow and give you proper clothing. I expect you tomorrow morning at 6 in my study, no earlier, no later. You better be there on time.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Erestor whispered, even managing a slight bow.

Turning about Glorfindel left him in Gaelion’s care, leaving the room. The elf who had announced him the boy’s arrival was waiting on front of the door for him and fell in step beside Glorfindel, as the Lord motioned him to follow him.

“Salgant’s subject has arrived as well?”

“Yes, my Lord. They were delivered at the same time. We made sure to choose two subjects with conditions as similar as possible. They are twin brothers, my Lord, having been raised in the same family, under the same circumstances, doing the same work. The circumstances are as favourable as possible.”

“Good.” Glorfindel smiled slightly. “I hope their parents weren’t too reluctant to give them away?”

“Oh no, my Lord. Not at all. There was nearly no conviction needed. They were only too willing to give us their children and the price they demanded for that was ridiculously low. I’d be surprised if they got more than a cow for that!”

“Peasants,” Glorfindel simply said and the other elf nodded approvingly. “They have no sense of honour or loyalty. They’d sell everything for a little money.” With a movement of his hand he released the elf, smiling contentedly. Everything was as perfect as one could wish for. He really looked forward to the challenge and he hoped the boy wouldn’t disappoint him. On the other hand, he hoped his brother would make sure to disappoint Salgant.

The boy’s arrival at his house was the result of a discussion with Salgant that had gone on for months. The main subject of this discussion was the question, if peasants were intelligent enough to learn. Everybody knew that they were by far lesser beings then the members of the Houses, but perhaps it was possible to teach them a thing or two. It was without question that they’d never reach the level of understanding and proficiency of the nobles, but perhaps they could at least learn how to write and read some easy texts.

Together Glorfindel and Salgant had decided to give it a try to see what would come from it, and Glorfindel had sent his servants to look for a pair of peasants young enough to at least have a chance to learn, and with similar background.

Twin brothers. Just perfect. The boys were exactly the same, providing himself and Salgant with exactly the same chance of succeeding. Of course it did not only depend on the boys, an important factor was the skill of the teacher, and Glorfindel had no doubt that he himself was far more skilled in this matter and would have far more success than Salgant, if at all.

Smiling triumphantly Glorfindel returned to his dinner, contentedly looking forward to his first lesson in the morning.

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