Fic A Day, Day 22 - Sew What
Aug. 22nd, 2021 10:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grundyscribblingTitle: Sew What
Author: Grundy
Rating: FR13
Crossover: LotR/Silmarillion
Summary: Anariel and Carnistir getting to know each other - and asking some tough questions.
Word Count: 1510
Note: Tired author begs indulgence on the frankly lousy title.
Carnistir had been caught off-guard by Anariel’s mischievous ask about Haleth.
It had, however, been clear that it wasn’t malicious – she was genuinely curious. And he supposed it wasn’t entirely unexpected that one of the peredhil would be curious about how an elf-man match came about.
Also, unlike her sister, she’d been plenty tickled to hear about Haleth the chief and Haleth the warrior. Tindomiel had been more interested in Haleth Carnistir’s wife and Miryo’s mother. Anariel chortled wildly on learning that his mate’s first word to him had been, “You took your own good time getting here.”
“I think I like her,” had been her verdict, rendered around the time he started sewing.
“Good,” he said drily. “I’m sure the two of you will get along spectacularly.”
“I sure hope so,” she replied brightly.
“As long as we’re speaking without others around to over hear,” Carnistir said. “I take it Namo has made you aware you’re taking over from your younger sister as my security?”
Her face was now that of the young one who’s been well and truly caught and was trying to figure out the best way to talk themselves out of trouble.
“Oh,” she said. “That.”
“That,” he agreed briskly, not missing a stitch. “Care to tell me about it?”
“Not really,” she shot back. “I was kind of hoping you didn’t know, actually.”
“Yes, well, your little sister spilled the beans,” he replied. “So, talk.”
“What is there to say, really?” she shrugged. “You know the deal, right? You behave or we all get tossed into the Void. And I’m not sure if me sending you back to Mandos triggers that, so my suggestion would be ‘let’s not find out’.”
“Tindomiel was against telling your parents,” he remarked.
“Was she?” Anariel asked. “Good. Best sense she’s shown so far. She really shouldn’t have dragged you out in the first place.”
“She shares your soft spot for my son,” Carnistir told her.
Anariel gave him a lopsided smile.
“He’s annoying by times – and I’m still getting used to the name, by the way – but we do like him. And I think he likes us. At least, when I’m not posing a danger to the books, in my case.”
Carnistir decided this was not the time to mention Miryo had actually been extremely worried for her, and not just since her sister’s death. Or that he was on her side in her grudge with Turvo. She had yet to say anything on that subject, not that he was letting that lull him into complacency. Artanis had always been at her most dangerous when she didn’t make plain how angry she was with you.
“I know why your sister decided I was worth the risk,” Carnistir said. “What’s your assessment?”
Anariel gave him an evaluating look.
“You don’t seem like you’re hellbent on starting trouble back up,” she said at least. “I mean, you know where my grandfather is, which means you know how to get your hands on a Silmaril if you really wanted, and you could have done it by now. I figure the lack of a dustup over it means you’ve learned your lesson. Or are we about to find out how much trouble we all get in if I have to drag your butt back to Namo?”
“My father’s oath isn’t the one that concerns me these days,” Carnistir said evenly.
Anariel blinked, but declined to ask.
“Right,” she said slowly. “So, were you planning on telling Ada?”
Carnistir sighed.
He’d been hoping she wouldn’t bring that up. By rights, he ought to tell his nephew what she was up to. Especially when he recognized the sizable potential for it to backfire. But in all honesty, he didn’t see any of his brothers particularly caring about Silmarils anymore. Nor did he wish to explain to Elrond – or his mother or his uncles – why he’d held his peace on the subject up until now.
Besides, she wasn’t the only one used to relying on her brothers. He suspected the chewing out she was going to get from Nelyo when he found out would make far more impression than anything Elrond might say.
“Not really,” he sighed. “Not unless it becomes necessary.”
“Keep your brothers who went nuts at Menegroth in line and we’ll all be fine,” she suggested.
“You mean Tinwë hasn’t mentioned that she’s on good terms with Tyelko these days?” he said silkily.
He greatly enjoyed the sight of his grand-niece’s jaw dropping in utter shock.
“Tindomiel. Is on good terms with Celegorm.”
“Tyelkormo,” Carnistir corrected matter-of-factly, in the voice one normally reserved for erring elflings.
“Potayto, potahto,” Anariel snorted. “I think Maeglin and I need to have a conversation. I never did get from him what he was talking about there.”
Carnistir had no idea at all what she meant, but knew when to just go with things.
There was a knock on the door before Miryo poked his head in.
“Just checking that you two are getting along,” he said.
“What did you think I was going to do, Ere-Miryo.”
His son took entirely too much glee in Anariel’s confusion about his name, but Carnistir saw no point in chiding him about it.
“One never knows with you,” Miryo shrugged.
“We’re fine. Your dad’s been telling stories,” Anariel replied. “Speaking of which…”
She pinned him with a look that said she wasn’t letting off the hook for whatever was on her mind.
“You came running here knowing you were starting trouble telling me Grandmother Anairë impounded whatever Arwen wanted me to wear, which I haven’t even seen yet by the way. What gives?”
Miryo looked smug.
“Gildor bet on you showing up wearing nothing at all,” he said. “I of course bet that you would find some other way to shock your grandmother.”
“I’m glad I could help,” Carnistir said drily. “Though if nothing else, I imagine her lack of circlet would distress Aunt Anairë sufficiently.”
“Pfft,” Anariel snorted. “That I have covered.”
Two matching eyebrows went up in unison. Anariel looked from one of them to the other.
“Wow, you guys don’t just look alike,” she marveled.
“What were you planning?” Miryo asked suspiciously. “The twins said they had your clothes.”
“Clothes, yes,” Anariel nodded. “But accessories I have with me. I mean, not much chance I’m going to manage to damage something dwarf-made. Pretty sure it would take a mountain falling on me or something like that to even chip the mithril.”
Carnistir wondered why his son looked so exasperated.
“I should have bet more than I did,” Miryo sighed wearily. “No one would have expected ‘shows up in a tunic of Celegorm’s reworked to fit her while wearing gifts from dwarves’. Not even Gildor.”
“Let’s see,” Carnistir ordered, before the two of them could start sniping at each other.
Anariel disappeared for a few minutes and came back carrying a necklace, circlet, and armlet. They were all mithril and moonstone, which would go remarkably well with what he had in mind, almost as well as if he’d planned it…
“That will work,” he nodded gravely. “Gifts from dwarves, you said?”
“King Kili of Erebor,” Anariel nodded.
“The who will nettle other relatives,” Miryo explained. “The what may upset Aunt Anairë.”
It was true that the armlet would likely strike his aunt as racy, given that she no doubt was expecting at least half-length sleeves.
“She’ll have other distractions,” Carnistir shrugged. “At any rate, I will be busy for some time. Anariel, you can either spend time with your grandmothers and aunts, or go get some rest. It sounded rather as though you could use it.”
She glanced out the window.
“It’s not even mid-afternoon yet. Too early to sleep. If I take a nap now, I’ll be up in the middle of the night.”
“Fair enough,” he shrugged. “But both of you are to go amuse yourselves elsewhere – you’re of no help here at the moment.”
“Aw…” Anariel protested.
“Come, no sense you demonstrating how bad you are at sewing,” Miryo told her cheerfully.
“I can sew just fine!” Anariel said indignantly as he herded her towards the door. “Who do you think stitches me up when Ada’s not around?”
“I think you ‘just butterfly it’ whenever you can if your brothers are not at hand. As to the competence of your stitching, the patch job Thranduil sent you home for says otherwise,” was his son’s assessment.
“How was I supposed to know how to fix intestines?” she protested. “It’s not like I make a habit of getting disemboweled! Usually Slayer healing fixes everything just fine!”
The door closed on whatever reply Miryo was clearly about to make.
Carnistir almost called them back to explain.
The story there sounded as interesting as anything Tyelko had ever inflicted on himself. But if he wanted to sleep that night himself, he needed to concentrate on his work. Anariel wasn’t going anywhere else today. He’d get this done first, then ask about the story while his mother wasn’t in the room to hear.
Author: Grundy
Rating: FR13
Crossover: LotR/Silmarillion
Summary: Anariel and Carnistir getting to know each other - and asking some tough questions.
Word Count: 1510
Note: Tired author begs indulgence on the frankly lousy title.
Carnistir had been caught off-guard by Anariel’s mischievous ask about Haleth.
It had, however, been clear that it wasn’t malicious – she was genuinely curious. And he supposed it wasn’t entirely unexpected that one of the peredhil would be curious about how an elf-man match came about.
Also, unlike her sister, she’d been plenty tickled to hear about Haleth the chief and Haleth the warrior. Tindomiel had been more interested in Haleth Carnistir’s wife and Miryo’s mother. Anariel chortled wildly on learning that his mate’s first word to him had been, “You took your own good time getting here.”
“I think I like her,” had been her verdict, rendered around the time he started sewing.
“Good,” he said drily. “I’m sure the two of you will get along spectacularly.”
“I sure hope so,” she replied brightly.
“As long as we’re speaking without others around to over hear,” Carnistir said. “I take it Namo has made you aware you’re taking over from your younger sister as my security?”
Her face was now that of the young one who’s been well and truly caught and was trying to figure out the best way to talk themselves out of trouble.
“Oh,” she said. “That.”
“That,” he agreed briskly, not missing a stitch. “Care to tell me about it?”
“Not really,” she shot back. “I was kind of hoping you didn’t know, actually.”
“Yes, well, your little sister spilled the beans,” he replied. “So, talk.”
“What is there to say, really?” she shrugged. “You know the deal, right? You behave or we all get tossed into the Void. And I’m not sure if me sending you back to Mandos triggers that, so my suggestion would be ‘let’s not find out’.”
“Tindomiel was against telling your parents,” he remarked.
“Was she?” Anariel asked. “Good. Best sense she’s shown so far. She really shouldn’t have dragged you out in the first place.”
“She shares your soft spot for my son,” Carnistir told her.
Anariel gave him a lopsided smile.
“He’s annoying by times – and I’m still getting used to the name, by the way – but we do like him. And I think he likes us. At least, when I’m not posing a danger to the books, in my case.”
Carnistir decided this was not the time to mention Miryo had actually been extremely worried for her, and not just since her sister’s death. Or that he was on her side in her grudge with Turvo. She had yet to say anything on that subject, not that he was letting that lull him into complacency. Artanis had always been at her most dangerous when she didn’t make plain how angry she was with you.
“I know why your sister decided I was worth the risk,” Carnistir said. “What’s your assessment?”
Anariel gave him an evaluating look.
“You don’t seem like you’re hellbent on starting trouble back up,” she said at least. “I mean, you know where my grandfather is, which means you know how to get your hands on a Silmaril if you really wanted, and you could have done it by now. I figure the lack of a dustup over it means you’ve learned your lesson. Or are we about to find out how much trouble we all get in if I have to drag your butt back to Namo?”
“My father’s oath isn’t the one that concerns me these days,” Carnistir said evenly.
Anariel blinked, but declined to ask.
“Right,” she said slowly. “So, were you planning on telling Ada?”
Carnistir sighed.
He’d been hoping she wouldn’t bring that up. By rights, he ought to tell his nephew what she was up to. Especially when he recognized the sizable potential for it to backfire. But in all honesty, he didn’t see any of his brothers particularly caring about Silmarils anymore. Nor did he wish to explain to Elrond – or his mother or his uncles – why he’d held his peace on the subject up until now.
Besides, she wasn’t the only one used to relying on her brothers. He suspected the chewing out she was going to get from Nelyo when he found out would make far more impression than anything Elrond might say.
“Not really,” he sighed. “Not unless it becomes necessary.”
“Keep your brothers who went nuts at Menegroth in line and we’ll all be fine,” she suggested.
“You mean Tinwë hasn’t mentioned that she’s on good terms with Tyelko these days?” he said silkily.
He greatly enjoyed the sight of his grand-niece’s jaw dropping in utter shock.
“Tindomiel. Is on good terms with Celegorm.”
“Tyelkormo,” Carnistir corrected matter-of-factly, in the voice one normally reserved for erring elflings.
“Potayto, potahto,” Anariel snorted. “I think Maeglin and I need to have a conversation. I never did get from him what he was talking about there.”
Carnistir had no idea at all what she meant, but knew when to just go with things.
There was a knock on the door before Miryo poked his head in.
“Just checking that you two are getting along,” he said.
“What did you think I was going to do, Ere-Miryo.”
His son took entirely too much glee in Anariel’s confusion about his name, but Carnistir saw no point in chiding him about it.
“One never knows with you,” Miryo shrugged.
“We’re fine. Your dad’s been telling stories,” Anariel replied. “Speaking of which…”
She pinned him with a look that said she wasn’t letting off the hook for whatever was on her mind.
“You came running here knowing you were starting trouble telling me Grandmother Anairë impounded whatever Arwen wanted me to wear, which I haven’t even seen yet by the way. What gives?”
Miryo looked smug.
“Gildor bet on you showing up wearing nothing at all,” he said. “I of course bet that you would find some other way to shock your grandmother.”
“I’m glad I could help,” Carnistir said drily. “Though if nothing else, I imagine her lack of circlet would distress Aunt Anairë sufficiently.”
“Pfft,” Anariel snorted. “That I have covered.”
Two matching eyebrows went up in unison. Anariel looked from one of them to the other.
“Wow, you guys don’t just look alike,” she marveled.
“What were you planning?” Miryo asked suspiciously. “The twins said they had your clothes.”
“Clothes, yes,” Anariel nodded. “But accessories I have with me. I mean, not much chance I’m going to manage to damage something dwarf-made. Pretty sure it would take a mountain falling on me or something like that to even chip the mithril.”
Carnistir wondered why his son looked so exasperated.
“I should have bet more than I did,” Miryo sighed wearily. “No one would have expected ‘shows up in a tunic of Celegorm’s reworked to fit her while wearing gifts from dwarves’. Not even Gildor.”
“Let’s see,” Carnistir ordered, before the two of them could start sniping at each other.
Anariel disappeared for a few minutes and came back carrying a necklace, circlet, and armlet. They were all mithril and moonstone, which would go remarkably well with what he had in mind, almost as well as if he’d planned it…
“That will work,” he nodded gravely. “Gifts from dwarves, you said?”
“King Kili of Erebor,” Anariel nodded.
“The who will nettle other relatives,” Miryo explained. “The what may upset Aunt Anairë.”
It was true that the armlet would likely strike his aunt as racy, given that she no doubt was expecting at least half-length sleeves.
“She’ll have other distractions,” Carnistir shrugged. “At any rate, I will be busy for some time. Anariel, you can either spend time with your grandmothers and aunts, or go get some rest. It sounded rather as though you could use it.”
She glanced out the window.
“It’s not even mid-afternoon yet. Too early to sleep. If I take a nap now, I’ll be up in the middle of the night.”
“Fair enough,” he shrugged. “But both of you are to go amuse yourselves elsewhere – you’re of no help here at the moment.”
“Aw…” Anariel protested.
“Come, no sense you demonstrating how bad you are at sewing,” Miryo told her cheerfully.
“I can sew just fine!” Anariel said indignantly as he herded her towards the door. “Who do you think stitches me up when Ada’s not around?”
“I think you ‘just butterfly it’ whenever you can if your brothers are not at hand. As to the competence of your stitching, the patch job Thranduil sent you home for says otherwise,” was his son’s assessment.
“How was I supposed to know how to fix intestines?” she protested. “It’s not like I make a habit of getting disemboweled! Usually Slayer healing fixes everything just fine!”
The door closed on whatever reply Miryo was clearly about to make.
Carnistir almost called them back to explain.
The story there sounded as interesting as anything Tyelko had ever inflicted on himself. But if he wanted to sleep that night himself, he needed to concentrate on his work. Anariel wasn’t going anywhere else today. He’d get this done first, then ask about the story while his mother wasn’t in the room to hear.
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Date: 2021-08-23 03:54 am (UTC)Thank you for the update. :)
no subject
Date: 2021-08-23 11:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-08-23 09:20 am (UTC)Have we seen Tindomiel warming up to Tyelko? I can see some groundwork laid (the Nimloth incident) but I’m failing to recall anything more overt. I should go & re-read that.
A number of people are going to have conniptions over Anariel’s jewelry. That will be fun.
no subject
Date: 2021-08-23 11:03 pm (UTC)I don't know that I've posted much of Tindomiel warming up to Tyelko, but several decades of him humoring her 'don't speak to me', to the point of utter ridiculousness, on top of the Nimloth incident softened her up. (As opposed to Curvo, who keeps trying to talk to her...)