grundyscribbling (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
grundyscribbling) wrote2023-08-26 09:39 pm
grundyscribbling) wrote2023-08-26 09:39 pm
Entry tags:
Day 26 - On The Road Again
Title: On The Road Again
Author: Grundy
Rating: FR13
Crossover: LotR/Silmarillion
Disclaimer: All belongs to Whedon & Tolkien. No money is being made here, it's all in good fun.
Summary: Anariel has ideas - some of which could use a bit of help.
Word Count: 1050
Note: Skipping ahead a bit - just realized I'm running out of Fic-A-Day days and I had ideas about where I wanted to end up the month...
“I need a navigator.”
Arador blinked.
“Where are you planning to sail?” he asked cautiously.
Anariel sighed.
“Sorry, California expression. I just need someone to help me get from point A to B. I mean, tinco to parma. You know what? Forget the expression. I’ll explain that part later. Main point, I don’t know where anything is around here, so I need someone who does – and won’t rat on me to the grandparent brigade – to show me.”
“Rat?”
“Add that to the explanations for later list.”
She knew Arador tried, but even with Tinu’s help, there was only so much “California” he could pick up given he hadn’t been around her constantly.
“Where are you going?”
This time her new bestie was slightly less cautious, particularly as she’d already made it clear the destination was in Tirion. At least, she thought it was…
“Gramma Nerdanel’s parents’ place.”
At his surprised look, she knew she had to explain.
“I’m planning a prank on Grandpa Butthead. I need help, but it shouldn’t be from his brothers, because then it’s not a prank, it’s starting trouble. But he can’t really give his father-in-law and former master the same kind of grief he would his little brother…”
Also, if they were Gramma Nerdanel’s parents, that meant they were also grandparents in her family tree, so really she ought to meet them anyway, but she didn’t want to overly complicate matters.
Besides, she needed to start learning her way around at some point. Being cocooned in the royal palace for several months was all well and good as far as meeting a good chunk of the relatives and getting a lot of really crappy dreams out of the way, but she was neither a hermit nor a child and fully intended to be able to come and go as she pleased. The sooner all her many grandmothers got used to that, the better.
Even just spending some time at Gramma Nerdanel’s would be a good start.
Arador gave her a thoughtful look.
“Is this going to be one of those zero to sixty things?” he asked. “I know what it looks like when Gildor gets tired of being in one place too long, and this seems awfully similar.”
“Not planning on flooring it,” she grinned. “Hey, you’re the one who went with the California phrase! I just thought visiting relatives who aren’t here would be a good start. Baby steps! It’s right here in Tirion. Isn’t it?”
Gildor snickered.
“Outside of town, actually, but still Noldorindor. If I don’t take you, you’re going to try it on your own, aren’t you?”
“Maybe?” she smirked.
“Right,” Arador sighed. “Better cover your hair up again.”
Anariel frowned.
“Do you want to talk to everyone we see between here and there?” Arador asked practically. At the emphatic negative shake of her head, he nodded. “So you’d better cover your hair. There aren’t all that many golden blondes around here to begin with, and most of the ones that are won’t be dead ringers for Eärendil in his youth. And if you’re recognized, everyone will want to meet you…”
She had to grudgingly accept that logic. She did not, however, see the point of repeating the same style she’d used for their festival outing.
“Ok, fine, meet you at the bridge to the library in ten minutes. Bring an overnight bag, we’ll stop in to see Gramma Nerdanel on the way back.”
Heading for her own room, she put her hair up in a braided crown, then covered it with a style of hat that had apparently been all the rage around the time her brothers were born. With luck, anyone who saw it would assume it was a hand-me-down from an older sibling.
She also took a few minutes to throw together a bag. Spare clothes, different hat, notebook, hairbrush, toothbrush, obligatory small weapons…
Arador still looked slightly dubious about the outing when they met up, but didn’t say anything as they slipped out through the library.
Being in the city on a normal day was a novelty. The only other outing she’d had so far was a visit to Pelendur at his family’s house, and that had been a large group – her and her siblings, plus Miryo, Gildor, Arador, and Lissë. With such a critical mass, moving through the city unnoticed and unremarked on had been impossible.
Pelendur’s parents had been slightly thrown by the appearance of a small pack young royals, however well-behaved and low-key. It put a slightly new light on Gramma Anairë’s carefully planned public appearances and protocol. But she did also know that her sister and Maeglin, plus various cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents managed to come and go without it being an event every time. If they could manage it, so could she.
With just her and Arador, it wasn’t quite like wandering around Middle-earth, but it was the closest she’d come to normal since leaving her parents’ house.
Arador kept up a patient (but silent) commentary as they went so she could learn where things were from street level – this was not at all the same as the view from their library perch. It also helped that he had a pretty good bead on what she’d consider important. By the time they reached the city wall, she knew where the best bakeries were, the smith’s quarter, the jeweler’s street, the bookbinder’s street, and when and where the markets were held.
She wanted to see one of the markets, too, but not today.
Today she wanted to feel like a normal girl, visiting normal grandparents who weren’t going to set off another round of dreams of doom and death, talking about normal pranks… Ok, so maybe the prank wasn’t quite normal. But Grandpa Butthead deserved the very best, even if that meant re-inventing technology. But where there was a will, there was a way, and the Noldor seemed to adore engineering challenges.
She could only hope Mahtan wouldn’t tell her to work it out herself. Namo might connive to give her time, but she somehow doubted he would give her that much time.
Arador said it would be a few hours at an easy walk – then suggested she get back to the delayed explanations about “point A, point B, rodents, and flooring.”
Author: Grundy
Rating: FR13
Crossover: LotR/Silmarillion
Disclaimer: All belongs to Whedon & Tolkien. No money is being made here, it's all in good fun.
Summary: Anariel has ideas - some of which could use a bit of help.
Word Count: 1050
Note: Skipping ahead a bit - just realized I'm running out of Fic-A-Day days and I had ideas about where I wanted to end up the month...
“I need a navigator.”
Arador blinked.
“Where are you planning to sail?” he asked cautiously.
Anariel sighed.
“Sorry, California expression. I just need someone to help me get from point A to B. I mean, tinco to parma. You know what? Forget the expression. I’ll explain that part later. Main point, I don’t know where anything is around here, so I need someone who does – and won’t rat on me to the grandparent brigade – to show me.”
“Rat?”
“Add that to the explanations for later list.”
She knew Arador tried, but even with Tinu’s help, there was only so much “California” he could pick up given he hadn’t been around her constantly.
“Where are you going?”
This time her new bestie was slightly less cautious, particularly as she’d already made it clear the destination was in Tirion. At least, she thought it was…
“Gramma Nerdanel’s parents’ place.”
At his surprised look, she knew she had to explain.
“I’m planning a prank on Grandpa Butthead. I need help, but it shouldn’t be from his brothers, because then it’s not a prank, it’s starting trouble. But he can’t really give his father-in-law and former master the same kind of grief he would his little brother…”
Also, if they were Gramma Nerdanel’s parents, that meant they were also grandparents in her family tree, so really she ought to meet them anyway, but she didn’t want to overly complicate matters.
Besides, she needed to start learning her way around at some point. Being cocooned in the royal palace for several months was all well and good as far as meeting a good chunk of the relatives and getting a lot of really crappy dreams out of the way, but she was neither a hermit nor a child and fully intended to be able to come and go as she pleased. The sooner all her many grandmothers got used to that, the better.
Even just spending some time at Gramma Nerdanel’s would be a good start.
Arador gave her a thoughtful look.
“Is this going to be one of those zero to sixty things?” he asked. “I know what it looks like when Gildor gets tired of being in one place too long, and this seems awfully similar.”
“Not planning on flooring it,” she grinned. “Hey, you’re the one who went with the California phrase! I just thought visiting relatives who aren’t here would be a good start. Baby steps! It’s right here in Tirion. Isn’t it?”
Gildor snickered.
“Outside of town, actually, but still Noldorindor. If I don’t take you, you’re going to try it on your own, aren’t you?”
“Maybe?” she smirked.
“Right,” Arador sighed. “Better cover your hair up again.”
Anariel frowned.
“Do you want to talk to everyone we see between here and there?” Arador asked practically. At the emphatic negative shake of her head, he nodded. “So you’d better cover your hair. There aren’t all that many golden blondes around here to begin with, and most of the ones that are won’t be dead ringers for Eärendil in his youth. And if you’re recognized, everyone will want to meet you…”
She had to grudgingly accept that logic. She did not, however, see the point of repeating the same style she’d used for their festival outing.
“Ok, fine, meet you at the bridge to the library in ten minutes. Bring an overnight bag, we’ll stop in to see Gramma Nerdanel on the way back.”
Heading for her own room, she put her hair up in a braided crown, then covered it with a style of hat that had apparently been all the rage around the time her brothers were born. With luck, anyone who saw it would assume it was a hand-me-down from an older sibling.
She also took a few minutes to throw together a bag. Spare clothes, different hat, notebook, hairbrush, toothbrush, obligatory small weapons…
Arador still looked slightly dubious about the outing when they met up, but didn’t say anything as they slipped out through the library.
Being in the city on a normal day was a novelty. The only other outing she’d had so far was a visit to Pelendur at his family’s house, and that had been a large group – her and her siblings, plus Miryo, Gildor, Arador, and Lissë. With such a critical mass, moving through the city unnoticed and unremarked on had been impossible.
Pelendur’s parents had been slightly thrown by the appearance of a small pack young royals, however well-behaved and low-key. It put a slightly new light on Gramma Anairë’s carefully planned public appearances and protocol. But she did also know that her sister and Maeglin, plus various cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents managed to come and go without it being an event every time. If they could manage it, so could she.
With just her and Arador, it wasn’t quite like wandering around Middle-earth, but it was the closest she’d come to normal since leaving her parents’ house.
Arador kept up a patient (but silent) commentary as they went so she could learn where things were from street level – this was not at all the same as the view from their library perch. It also helped that he had a pretty good bead on what she’d consider important. By the time they reached the city wall, she knew where the best bakeries were, the smith’s quarter, the jeweler’s street, the bookbinder’s street, and when and where the markets were held.
She wanted to see one of the markets, too, but not today.
Today she wanted to feel like a normal girl, visiting normal grandparents who weren’t going to set off another round of dreams of doom and death, talking about normal pranks… Ok, so maybe the prank wasn’t quite normal. But Grandpa Butthead deserved the very best, even if that meant re-inventing technology. But where there was a will, there was a way, and the Noldor seemed to adore engineering challenges.
She could only hope Mahtan wouldn’t tell her to work it out herself. Namo might connive to give her time, but she somehow doubted he would give her that much time.
Arador said it would be a few hours at an easy walk – then suggested she get back to the delayed explanations about “point A, point B, rodents, and flooring.”
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He's a quick study!
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*Cheers you on in getting as far as you want in the rest of the month*
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And thank you! (Fingers crossed!)