Christmas drabbles!
Dec. 25th, 2007 12:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elvenpirateladyDrabble one, for ![[info]](https://stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
b2wm , who wanted crackfic, and the Doctor slapping someone with a fish. The Doctor, Rose and all references to Monty Python belong to other people, I merely borrow.
The Doctor considered the prone figure. ‘Hmm,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘I didn’t expect that to happen.’
Rose peered over his shoulder at the alien. Tall, grey and tentacled described it well, but patches of sickly orange were appearing on the mottled flesh. ‘I don’t think it expected to be hit with a large, frozen fish.’
The Doctor hefted his impromptu weapon. ‘It’s some sort of guard-alien, I think. It must be allergic to the amino-proteins.’ When Rose looked blank, he added, ‘it’s going to wake up with a splitting headache and a nasty rash. We shouldn’t stay here long.’ Rose carefully didn’t ask why they were sneaking around a warehouse in New Oslo. That would lead to the question of why exactly she was with the Doctor in the first place, and she still didn’t have a completely coherent answer prepared.
‘It’s all a bit Monty-Pythonish, isn’t it?’ she said as they walked past rows and rows of crates, their breath turning to vapour in the chilly air. ‘Fish-slapping, Knights Who Say Ni, all that stuff.’
The Doctor made a noise that might have been a dismissive snort. ‘Do you humans still think that’s funny?’
Rose shrugged. ‘As long as nobody starts quoting the whole movie, then yes.’
‘Not for the people of the planet Nee-Wom, it’s not,’ the Doctor said darkly. ‘They sent a probe to Earth with information about their home and culture, and it landed in Michael Palin’s garden. They sued the Pythons for millions when they saw the movie, and there was a lot of fuss about character slander. They won, eventually, but five years had passed and the damage was done. Now they’re a laughing-stock.’ He sighed. ‘I’ve been to Nee-Wom, and it’s a beautiful place. They didn’t deserve that.’
‘Oh.’ For several minutes, they walked in silence, before Rose said slyly, ‘So, did you cut down the greatest tree in the forest with a herring?’
The Doctor grinned. ‘Yes.’
‘Really? How?’
‘Well, there’s a company in twenty-third century New Zealand called Herring Ltd which makes saws, so technically...’
--------------
Drabble two, forteh_elb , who wanted either TADers or the Sindar. (Um, not quite a drabble. It got away from me for a while.) TADers is a cracky roleplay AU set in Fourth Age Middle-earth. Elb and Falle belong to teh_elb . Thranduil's wife is canon, but her name, history and personality come from TADers.
Fallë was not in his bedroom. Thranduil frowned, and wondered where his younger son could be at this time of night. He had not seen either of his children for the entire evening, but Legolas had gone to check the border patrols, and he had expected Fallë to be with Elb, or Lotheliel, or the other elflings… Thranduil reached up to massage his temples, wearily reflecting that the duties of a king were more onerous than he had ever expected. None of the songs about the mighty kings of ages past had mentioned the enormous amounts of paperwork.
Thranduil sighed inwardly, and began to search the halls in as systematic a way that his tired brain could contrive. When a search of the main hall, the storerooms, the stables and the archery yards failed to find Fallë, he began to feel seriously worried. Outside the snow fell softly, but it was bitterly cold. Thranduil dismissed the terrible thoughts of his son lost in the forest, and began to check the rooms again. The search eventually took him to the kitchens, and he breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the familiar white-blond head.
The light from the flickering candle turned Fallë’s hair gold in places. His hands were clasped loosely around a cup of tea, half full. One leg was tucked up underneath him, the other did not quite reach the ground, and swung gently. His son was staring into the cup as though the amber liquid held all the secrets of Arda. He looked up with a start as Thranduil walked towards him, then smiled sleepily. ‘Hello, Ada.’
‘Hello, Fallë.’ Thranduil found another cup and the jar of herbs, carefully measuring out a spoonful. ‘You’re up very late,’ he said quietly, pouring hot water into the cup. The gentle aroma of the steam calmed him. His son was safe. That was all that mattered.
‘Yes, Ada.’ Fallë did not continue, but Thranduil did not fail to notice the tone in his son’s voice. Something was troubling him that he would not say of his own accord, but the silence felt more like a prompting than an absense of words.
‘You can’t sleep?’
‘No.’
‘Is something troubling you?’
‘Is love always hard?’
‘Why do you ask?’ Thranduil chose his words carefully.
‘It’s Elb,’ Fallë said miserably. ‘She… I thought she was getting better, Ada. She’s been happy for the last two days, and she’s been sleeping well… but today, something happened. I said something that made her upset, I’m sure of it, and she hasn’t talked to me since then. She won’t say what’s wrong, and I don’t know what to do.’ He looked so dejected that Thranduil put aside his lingering worry about Fallë using the word ‘love’ in relation to the half-wild elfling they had found in the forest. He knew that Elb needed friendship and trust and care, and the love that came from a mother, a father, sisters, brothers, cousins… but he was not so certain about the love that existed between a husband and wife. Fallë was barely forty, and Elb even younger, it was far too early to even think about either of them in such a relationship… Thranduil made a note to talk to his son about it later, when he did not look so downcast.
‘Love… love needs patience, and dedication, and understanding,’ he said. ‘The minstrels sing of stories where love is threatened by war, or death, or betrayal, but those things cannot defeat a love that is strong and true. Love is hardest when lived day by day, without drama and amazing feats, just the mundane problems and hardships that we all face.
‘Love is not easy, Fallë, but it is its own reward.’ Thranduil paused for a moment. ‘I’ve always thought of love as a hard and difficult task that you must complete, like felling a tree. It seems almost impossible when you are alone, but if there is someone there with you, it seems easier. It is still hard, but you have company. We sing songs while we work to take our minds from the task, and the time passes more quickly. Love is the song that distracts you from the difficulty of the task, Fallë, and it is a beautiful song indeed.’
‘Was it like that with you and Nana, Ada?’ Fallë asked eagerly.
‘Yes, in a way.’ Thranduil knew ellyn who had fought in the Last Alliance that later married ellith who knew nothing of war, or darkness, or grief, hoping that they would distract them from their memories. For some, it had succeeded, for others… it had failed, or had not worked as well as they had hoped. In his mind, he saw a red-haired child crying over his mother’s body, while his father looked on, uncomprehending and disgusted…
It had not been like that with Beniel. He had loved her before, but the War had brought them closer together. They had brought each other healing because they understood – about the horrors of battle, the rift between Sindar and Noldor, the way the sky darkened and the air smelt of smoke whenever they looked to the south… that had been their task, to survive the War and its aftermath. He had thought their song had been the most beautiful thing in the world, until his children were born.
He blinked, and refocused on Fallë’s face. His son was smiling. ‘You were dreaming,’ he said quietly. ‘You were far away.’
‘I think I was half asleep,’ Thranduil replied wryly. ‘I should have been abed long ago, and you too.’ Together, they walked along the gloomy halls.
Fallë was already drowsing when he finally climbed into bed, but he looked determined. ‘I’ll tell Elb about the song tomorrow,’ he said decisively. ‘I’ll tell her all about it, and I won’t take no for an answer.’
‘Well done,’ Thranduil answered.
‘Goodnight, Ada.’
‘Goodnight, Fallë.’
As he finally sought his own bed, Thranduil could not help smiling at the thought of young love growing in Mirkwood. Fallë and Elb would be alright. There would be trouble, of course, there always was. There would be tears and screaming, but there would be laughter, and healing too – and love.
b2wm , who wanted crackfic, and the Doctor slapping someone with a fish. The Doctor, Rose and all references to Monty Python belong to other people, I merely borrow.The Doctor considered the prone figure. ‘Hmm,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘I didn’t expect that to happen.’
Rose peered over his shoulder at the alien. Tall, grey and tentacled described it well, but patches of sickly orange were appearing on the mottled flesh. ‘I don’t think it expected to be hit with a large, frozen fish.’
The Doctor hefted his impromptu weapon. ‘It’s some sort of guard-alien, I think. It must be allergic to the amino-proteins.’ When Rose looked blank, he added, ‘it’s going to wake up with a splitting headache and a nasty rash. We shouldn’t stay here long.’ Rose carefully didn’t ask why they were sneaking around a warehouse in New Oslo. That would lead to the question of why exactly she was with the Doctor in the first place, and she still didn’t have a completely coherent answer prepared.
‘It’s all a bit Monty-Pythonish, isn’t it?’ she said as they walked past rows and rows of crates, their breath turning to vapour in the chilly air. ‘Fish-slapping, Knights Who Say Ni, all that stuff.’
The Doctor made a noise that might have been a dismissive snort. ‘Do you humans still think that’s funny?’
Rose shrugged. ‘As long as nobody starts quoting the whole movie, then yes.’
‘Not for the people of the planet Nee-Wom, it’s not,’ the Doctor said darkly. ‘They sent a probe to Earth with information about their home and culture, and it landed in Michael Palin’s garden. They sued the Pythons for millions when they saw the movie, and there was a lot of fuss about character slander. They won, eventually, but five years had passed and the damage was done. Now they’re a laughing-stock.’ He sighed. ‘I’ve been to Nee-Wom, and it’s a beautiful place. They didn’t deserve that.’
‘Oh.’ For several minutes, they walked in silence, before Rose said slyly, ‘So, did you cut down the greatest tree in the forest with a herring?’
The Doctor grinned. ‘Yes.’
‘Really? How?’
‘Well, there’s a company in twenty-third century New Zealand called Herring Ltd which makes saws, so technically...’
--------------
Drabble two, for
teh_elb , who wanted either TADers or the Sindar. (Um, not quite a drabble. It got away from me for a while.) TADers is a cracky roleplay AU set in Fourth Age Middle-earth. Elb and Falle belong to teh_elb . Thranduil's wife is canon, but her name, history and personality come from TADers.Fallë was not in his bedroom. Thranduil frowned, and wondered where his younger son could be at this time of night. He had not seen either of his children for the entire evening, but Legolas had gone to check the border patrols, and he had expected Fallë to be with Elb, or Lotheliel, or the other elflings… Thranduil reached up to massage his temples, wearily reflecting that the duties of a king were more onerous than he had ever expected. None of the songs about the mighty kings of ages past had mentioned the enormous amounts of paperwork.
Thranduil sighed inwardly, and began to search the halls in as systematic a way that his tired brain could contrive. When a search of the main hall, the storerooms, the stables and the archery yards failed to find Fallë, he began to feel seriously worried. Outside the snow fell softly, but it was bitterly cold. Thranduil dismissed the terrible thoughts of his son lost in the forest, and began to check the rooms again. The search eventually took him to the kitchens, and he breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the familiar white-blond head.
The light from the flickering candle turned Fallë’s hair gold in places. His hands were clasped loosely around a cup of tea, half full. One leg was tucked up underneath him, the other did not quite reach the ground, and swung gently. His son was staring into the cup as though the amber liquid held all the secrets of Arda. He looked up with a start as Thranduil walked towards him, then smiled sleepily. ‘Hello, Ada.’
‘Hello, Fallë.’ Thranduil found another cup and the jar of herbs, carefully measuring out a spoonful. ‘You’re up very late,’ he said quietly, pouring hot water into the cup. The gentle aroma of the steam calmed him. His son was safe. That was all that mattered.
‘Yes, Ada.’ Fallë did not continue, but Thranduil did not fail to notice the tone in his son’s voice. Something was troubling him that he would not say of his own accord, but the silence felt more like a prompting than an absense of words.
‘You can’t sleep?’
‘No.’
‘Is something troubling you?’
‘Is love always hard?’
‘Why do you ask?’ Thranduil chose his words carefully.
‘It’s Elb,’ Fallë said miserably. ‘She… I thought she was getting better, Ada. She’s been happy for the last two days, and she’s been sleeping well… but today, something happened. I said something that made her upset, I’m sure of it, and she hasn’t talked to me since then. She won’t say what’s wrong, and I don’t know what to do.’ He looked so dejected that Thranduil put aside his lingering worry about Fallë using the word ‘love’ in relation to the half-wild elfling they had found in the forest. He knew that Elb needed friendship and trust and care, and the love that came from a mother, a father, sisters, brothers, cousins… but he was not so certain about the love that existed between a husband and wife. Fallë was barely forty, and Elb even younger, it was far too early to even think about either of them in such a relationship… Thranduil made a note to talk to his son about it later, when he did not look so downcast.
‘Love… love needs patience, and dedication, and understanding,’ he said. ‘The minstrels sing of stories where love is threatened by war, or death, or betrayal, but those things cannot defeat a love that is strong and true. Love is hardest when lived day by day, without drama and amazing feats, just the mundane problems and hardships that we all face.
‘Love is not easy, Fallë, but it is its own reward.’ Thranduil paused for a moment. ‘I’ve always thought of love as a hard and difficult task that you must complete, like felling a tree. It seems almost impossible when you are alone, but if there is someone there with you, it seems easier. It is still hard, but you have company. We sing songs while we work to take our minds from the task, and the time passes more quickly. Love is the song that distracts you from the difficulty of the task, Fallë, and it is a beautiful song indeed.’
‘Was it like that with you and Nana, Ada?’ Fallë asked eagerly.
‘Yes, in a way.’ Thranduil knew ellyn who had fought in the Last Alliance that later married ellith who knew nothing of war, or darkness, or grief, hoping that they would distract them from their memories. For some, it had succeeded, for others… it had failed, or had not worked as well as they had hoped. In his mind, he saw a red-haired child crying over his mother’s body, while his father looked on, uncomprehending and disgusted…
It had not been like that with Beniel. He had loved her before, but the War had brought them closer together. They had brought each other healing because they understood – about the horrors of battle, the rift between Sindar and Noldor, the way the sky darkened and the air smelt of smoke whenever they looked to the south… that had been their task, to survive the War and its aftermath. He had thought their song had been the most beautiful thing in the world, until his children were born.
He blinked, and refocused on Fallë’s face. His son was smiling. ‘You were dreaming,’ he said quietly. ‘You were far away.’
‘I think I was half asleep,’ Thranduil replied wryly. ‘I should have been abed long ago, and you too.’ Together, they walked along the gloomy halls.
Fallë was already drowsing when he finally climbed into bed, but he looked determined. ‘I’ll tell Elb about the song tomorrow,’ he said decisively. ‘I’ll tell her all about it, and I won’t take no for an answer.’
‘Well done,’ Thranduil answered.
‘Goodnight, Ada.’
‘Goodnight, Fallë.’
As he finally sought his own bed, Thranduil could not help smiling at the thought of young love growing in Mirkwood. Fallë and Elb would be alright. There would be trouble, of course, there always was. There would be tears and screaming, but there would be laughter, and healing too – and love.
Merry Christmas to all of you, guys.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-12-25 03:52 pm (UTC)Well, perhaps not initially, but I reckon that those who knew Falle well could see very quickly that he was utterly besotted with her. ;D I reckon Thranduil and Legolas (let alone others) could see what was coming from a MILE off.