Day 9 - Make With the Splainy
Aug. 9th, 2024 08:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grundyscribblingTitle: Make With the Splainy
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: Tindomiel's not sure why she's the one who has to explain this.
Word Count: 1075
Note: Hoping for something slightly longer tomorrow.
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: Tindomiel's not sure why she's the one who has to explain this.
Word Count: 1075
Note: Hoping for something slightly longer tomorrow.
Tindomiel was unsurprised to find the table in a minor uproar when she slipped back into her seat. Her sister’s timing was generally excellent. She couldn’t say the same for Namo.
Everyone quieted instantly the second they realized she was back – and while ‘everyone’ wasn’t all of the relatives currently in Tirion, it was close enough.
Maeglin raised an eyebrow.
Later, she told him, taking his hand so he could catch that ‘later’ meant ‘when there aren’t a ton of grandparents trying to listen in’.
Much as she might agree that Uncle Crankypants deserved whatever Anariel was dishing out, she didn’t think dumping her sister in it by telling everyone the whole story was the best idea. Also, the part about her kicking in doors and using weaponry in the general vicinity of one of the Valar was sure to get people worked up.
“Tindomiel,” her mother said sternly. “I think we’re owed an explanation for what you found so urgent that you couldn’t wait until dinner was over, or even tell us that you were going.”
She fought the urge to sigh. Nana was speaking for Ada also – he was doing the disappointed look.
“I’m sorry, Nana,” she said. “I hope you weren’t too worried. But it wasn’t actually me that did it.”
Now several people looked alarmed, her father included.
“If you did not, who did?” Ada asked.
He knew as well as she did that grandmother Melian would have asked, or at least told him what was going on.
“Uncle Namo,” she sighed, seeing no way around it. He so owed her for this.
Maybe she didn’t need Anariel to get him to fess up about Tuor after this. The Judge did believe in justice, after all.
Also, she had the whole table’s full attention.
“Tinwë, what on earth did Lord Namo need you for so urgently?” asked Grandmom Anairë.
“Am I allowed to plead the Fifth?” Tindomiel asked her mother hopefully. “Is there a Noldorin equivalent?”
“The Fifth Amendment only prevents you incriminating yourself, pumpkin belly,” Nana said wryly. “I think you’ve already established that doesn’t apply here. And I don’t believe any of the elves have an equivalent to it.”
“Your Gramps would know if there is,” Ada offered. “Though I suspect your mother is correct.”
“What is this fifth?” Fingon asked curiously.
Nana’s raised eyebrow was waiting to learn how well Tindomiel remembered her long-ago US government class.
“It’s a legal principle in California that someone can’t be made to be a witness against themselves in a court of law.”
“Presumably the fifth principle in whatever statute or law is it listed in?” Fingon mused.
“Something like that,” Tindomiel agreed, wondering if she could successfully distract everyone with a tangent on California laws and government.
“Fascinating as that may be to the legal scholars among us,” Grandpop Nolo broke in, seeing his son about to play right into her hands, “it is wandering away from the subject at hand. What led Lord Namo to require your presence without advance notice or explanation?”
No getting around it, then.
“Anariel wanted to have a discussion with him. He was trying to avoid her for some reason, and somehow concluded I’d be good cover,” she said. “His reasoning really isn’t the best.”
There came that expression of Ada’s that only happened when he was contemplating the aftermath of an Anariel plan.
“I don’t suppose you have any idea about the topic of this conversation?” Granddad Ara wanted to know.
“Something about Ada’s grandfather,” Tindomiel shrugged. “She was a little irritated about it.”
She made sure to keep well concealed that she was wildly understating the case. Her sister probably would have preferred to go at Namo the way she occasionally did with Tulkas. Hopefully she’d been vague enough that most of the table wouldn’t know what she meant. Maybe Aunt Merilin might get it, but she wouldn’t rat Anariel out…
“I was under the impression your sister was in Alqualondë,” Ada said. “How did she get herself to the Halls?”
Bugger.
“Um… I think Grandmother Melian may have helped.”
“Why would she do such a thing?” Grandmom Anairë asked.
“Probably because Anariel asked and she didn’t see any reason not to,” Tindomiel offered.
That was a reasonable explanation, even if she was pretty sure the real one was ‘because she is just as steamed as Anariel about it, but doesn’t have the kind of temper it takes to put the fear of everything into Namo the way Anariel was doing.’
Tindomiel hurried a generous forkful of potato gratin into her mouth before anyone could put another question to her. She was relieved that conversation picked up, even if it had the air of ‘we’ll talk more about this later’.
She dared a glance at her brothers, and found matching smirks on their faces.
She hoped it was because they were enjoying the thought of Anariel taking Namo to task, and not because they were amused at her being put on the spot.
A bit of both, I suspect, Maeglin told her quietly. Do you suppose your sister is making more or less of an impression than you and my mother did?
Tindomiel didn’t laugh out loud – too much danger of potato bits flying out of her nose, not to mention drawing everyone’s attention again just when they were hopefully on to other things. But she did let her mate know how amusing his question was.
Namo might have been minorly discomfited by her telling him off with backup from Aunt Aredhel, but his reaction to Anariel was considerably beyond that.
Put it this way, she’s not in Auntie Vairë’s good books. Nor likely to be anytime soon.
She wasn’t sure why her sister’s attitude was such a surprise to the Weaver – she probably knew more about what Anariel had gotten up to in Middle-earth than anyone else. Including the trip through Mordor and the dragon incident, come to think of it… maybe it was time to finally get the full story on both of those. If Auntie was that put out, she’d spill.
Maybe she just expected your sister would show more deference to the Valar. Everyone else does.
Anariel and deference aren’t really mixy things, Tindomiel snorted. Given she made it her mission to be the biggest pain in Sauron’s ass possible, I’m not sure why anyone would think she’d be shy about giving anyone here a piece of her mind.
Everyone quieted instantly the second they realized she was back – and while ‘everyone’ wasn’t all of the relatives currently in Tirion, it was close enough.
Maeglin raised an eyebrow.
Later, she told him, taking his hand so he could catch that ‘later’ meant ‘when there aren’t a ton of grandparents trying to listen in’.
Much as she might agree that Uncle Crankypants deserved whatever Anariel was dishing out, she didn’t think dumping her sister in it by telling everyone the whole story was the best idea. Also, the part about her kicking in doors and using weaponry in the general vicinity of one of the Valar was sure to get people worked up.
“Tindomiel,” her mother said sternly. “I think we’re owed an explanation for what you found so urgent that you couldn’t wait until dinner was over, or even tell us that you were going.”
She fought the urge to sigh. Nana was speaking for Ada also – he was doing the disappointed look.
“I’m sorry, Nana,” she said. “I hope you weren’t too worried. But it wasn’t actually me that did it.”
Now several people looked alarmed, her father included.
“If you did not, who did?” Ada asked.
He knew as well as she did that grandmother Melian would have asked, or at least told him what was going on.
“Uncle Namo,” she sighed, seeing no way around it. He so owed her for this.
Maybe she didn’t need Anariel to get him to fess up about Tuor after this. The Judge did believe in justice, after all.
Also, she had the whole table’s full attention.
“Tinwë, what on earth did Lord Namo need you for so urgently?” asked Grandmom Anairë.
“Am I allowed to plead the Fifth?” Tindomiel asked her mother hopefully. “Is there a Noldorin equivalent?”
“The Fifth Amendment only prevents you incriminating yourself, pumpkin belly,” Nana said wryly. “I think you’ve already established that doesn’t apply here. And I don’t believe any of the elves have an equivalent to it.”
“Your Gramps would know if there is,” Ada offered. “Though I suspect your mother is correct.”
“What is this fifth?” Fingon asked curiously.
Nana’s raised eyebrow was waiting to learn how well Tindomiel remembered her long-ago US government class.
“It’s a legal principle in California that someone can’t be made to be a witness against themselves in a court of law.”
“Presumably the fifth principle in whatever statute or law is it listed in?” Fingon mused.
“Something like that,” Tindomiel agreed, wondering if she could successfully distract everyone with a tangent on California laws and government.
“Fascinating as that may be to the legal scholars among us,” Grandpop Nolo broke in, seeing his son about to play right into her hands, “it is wandering away from the subject at hand. What led Lord Namo to require your presence without advance notice or explanation?”
No getting around it, then.
“Anariel wanted to have a discussion with him. He was trying to avoid her for some reason, and somehow concluded I’d be good cover,” she said. “His reasoning really isn’t the best.”
There came that expression of Ada’s that only happened when he was contemplating the aftermath of an Anariel plan.
“I don’t suppose you have any idea about the topic of this conversation?” Granddad Ara wanted to know.
“Something about Ada’s grandfather,” Tindomiel shrugged. “She was a little irritated about it.”
She made sure to keep well concealed that she was wildly understating the case. Her sister probably would have preferred to go at Namo the way she occasionally did with Tulkas. Hopefully she’d been vague enough that most of the table wouldn’t know what she meant. Maybe Aunt Merilin might get it, but she wouldn’t rat Anariel out…
“I was under the impression your sister was in Alqualondë,” Ada said. “How did she get herself to the Halls?”
Bugger.
“Um… I think Grandmother Melian may have helped.”
“Why would she do such a thing?” Grandmom Anairë asked.
“Probably because Anariel asked and she didn’t see any reason not to,” Tindomiel offered.
That was a reasonable explanation, even if she was pretty sure the real one was ‘because she is just as steamed as Anariel about it, but doesn’t have the kind of temper it takes to put the fear of everything into Namo the way Anariel was doing.’
Tindomiel hurried a generous forkful of potato gratin into her mouth before anyone could put another question to her. She was relieved that conversation picked up, even if it had the air of ‘we’ll talk more about this later’.
She dared a glance at her brothers, and found matching smirks on their faces.
She hoped it was because they were enjoying the thought of Anariel taking Namo to task, and not because they were amused at her being put on the spot.
A bit of both, I suspect, Maeglin told her quietly. Do you suppose your sister is making more or less of an impression than you and my mother did?
Tindomiel didn’t laugh out loud – too much danger of potato bits flying out of her nose, not to mention drawing everyone’s attention again just when they were hopefully on to other things. But she did let her mate know how amusing his question was.
Namo might have been minorly discomfited by her telling him off with backup from Aunt Aredhel, but his reaction to Anariel was considerably beyond that.
Put it this way, she’s not in Auntie Vairë’s good books. Nor likely to be anytime soon.
She wasn’t sure why her sister’s attitude was such a surprise to the Weaver – she probably knew more about what Anariel had gotten up to in Middle-earth than anyone else. Including the trip through Mordor and the dragon incident, come to think of it… maybe it was time to finally get the full story on both of those. If Auntie was that put out, she’d spill.
Maybe she just expected your sister would show more deference to the Valar. Everyone else does.
Anariel and deference aren’t really mixy things, Tindomiel snorted. Given she made it her mission to be the biggest pain in Sauron’s ass possible, I’m not sure why anyone would think she’d be shy about giving anyone here a piece of her mind.
no subject
Date: 2024-08-10 03:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-08-11 08:30 pm (UTC)Celebrian knows her daughter and does not need to ask to have a fair idea how it went...
Ada's reaction to Anariel's Plans
Date: 2024-11-16 01:15 am (UTC)Re: Ada's reaction to Anariel's Plans
Date: 2024-11-18 12:16 am (UTC)