Hello everyone! I know that I should be writing my other stories. However,
this story kept on biting at me until I agreed to finally put it to paper.
Mind you, this story is very opinionated and uses a shameless author insert. It is a medium for MY opinions upon the books of Tolkien that are so beloved in the world, especially with the efforts of Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh, etc.
If I find ANY sort of flaming upon this story, it will be promptly ignored and/or deleted. You're entitled to your opinion; I'm entitled to mine. But in respect to one another.
~*~
Title: Discussion by Firelight
Rating: PG
Warnings: Some controversial issues, language, opinions
Spoilers: Some details of Lord of the Rings but not many
Summary: Discussion by firelight is an old tradition. But what is brought up can change so quickly... Introspect/Opinion piece
~*~
The chamber was dark, save for a pool of flickering light from a roaring fire. A woman was settled in an enormous, winged armchair in front of it, comfortably basking. She was dressed in black, a soft shirt and dark pants, a dark gray blanket spread on her lap. On a small table beside her was a tea tray and a small, leather bound book.
Honey was poured into a cup, a long stream of amber orange liquid following after with soft wisps of steam curling upward. A slender gold spoon slowly stirred the tea. Eyes of dark brown closed as a soft sigh escaped small lips.
"Ouch!" came a cry as the tea was drunk too greedily. The drinker gingerly put the delicate porcelain cup down, nursing scalded lips and tongue.
"Take care, miss," came a teasing voice.
"Amusing," responded the injured woman dryly, as she pushed back a strand of long black hair. "And don't stay in the shadows. Come out, you assassin, you know that I'm near blind without my glasses."
"Why do you not wear them then?" was the cheeky answer.
"Because I'm bloody tired and they pinch. Sit down honestly, you're making me tired just watching you."
Gracefully, the visitor took a seat in soft, comfortable looking chair just across from the looming monstrosity of striped white and blue upholstery that the woman was currently seated in. He was tall and slim, hair fair and eyes gray.
"Tea?" She offered a ready cup.
"Thank you."
There was only silence for a while, punctuated by soft crackling from the fire in front of the two and the occasional slurp from the woman.
"How long as it been since our last meeting?" the visitor asked.
The woman smiled, though it was more than half bitter. "Too long. I missed you, and the others besides."
"So I am no longer your favorite?" Sensuous lips formed a mock-pout.
"Stop that, you idiot. You look enough like a child."
A sharp look was given by one pale gray eye. "I beg your pardon but last I checked..."
"I don't need a reminder," came a acid reply. Another sip of tea was drunk.
"I have been reading lately," the gray-eyed stranger mentioned, casually.
"All the crap?" There was a snort. "Are you disgusted?"
"At times..." The visitor tried to be diplomatic.
"Don't give me that. Blasted males... always beating around the bush. You think they're crap and you're just too polite to say so."
"If I would be so crude as to use that term."
"Good point. But I've heard the good Elrond Peredhil use the occasional expletive enough times."
"Shocking," the stranger said. He smiled however.
"As shocking as Frodo and Sam sharing each other's beds?" the woman asked.
Her visitor coughed. The tips of his ears were flushing slightly. "I believe that is something I have not heard of. I know they love one another deeply, but perhaps- ah, not in that manner."
"Precisely," came a satisfied, yet grim reply. "I may be a fan of slash, but when homophobes imply that and the evil of it all..." There was definite heat in the voice.
"And Tolkien was a Catholic I believe," the male said.
The woman shrugged. "That is not precisely the point." Her brown eyes studied her visitor. "Tolkien wrote about love in his tales in the style of ancient ballads; not much carnality but much about dedication and purity. You can see that in the tale of Arwen and Aragorn and of Eowyn and Faramir. They loved one another deeply, enough that they would sacrifice anything and support each other through the darkness in whatever way that could. However, Tolkien wrote of other loves as well. You could see the love that Gandalf had, or perhaps fondness, of Hobbits, specifically Frodo, Pippin, Merry, and Sam. But perhaps the purest of all that he wrote was between Frodo and Sam. It was a love that transcended everything, gender, species, age, rank, power. Maybe it was to the point that it seemed slavish, for Sam's devotion to Frodo, but that love was reciprocated between both of them. That was what he probably wanted. To show that love is beyond anything that we can ever comprehend, even the Elves." She paused for breath. "But to constantly translate that into lust and purely physical attraction is to be crude. There is nothing to say that either loved each other in that way. But it is undeniable to say that they shared a love that many of us will never see."
"A lovely speech," her companion said, with a smile. "You are born too late, my friend."
"Don't flatter me, you peacock," she said, but preened anyways. She took another sip of her tea. "In that matter, it seems boorish to assume that you and Gimli were- closer than friends should."
The male coughed delicately. "That would be reading too closely between the lines. There is nothing to say that we are more than close friends, who fight side by side."
"And exchange the numbers of enemies you've killed," said the wry response.
"True." He slowly rose. "I must take my leave. But do not worry, I will return tomorrow night."
"Ah- could I ask you a favor?" The woman was blushing.
A fine eyebrow arched. "Yes?"
"Could I throw dignity to the winds and be a complete fangirl and have a hug?"
He smiled at her. "Not a problem."
She got out of her seat and tightly wrapped her arms about him, burying her face into his slim, muscular chest. "Thanks, Legolas."
"Much obliged, my friend."
~*~
A/N: Heh, I must confess a love for our dear elf. I DO think that Orlando Bloom is attractive however. But I do NOT watch the movies for the sake of seeing our dear bishie elf.
/nods/ If you do review this piece, please send me constructive criticism. That would be appreciated, even from this little exercise.
Mind you, this story is very opinionated and uses a shameless author insert. It is a medium for MY opinions upon the books of Tolkien that are so beloved in the world, especially with the efforts of Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh, etc.
If I find ANY sort of flaming upon this story, it will be promptly ignored and/or deleted. You're entitled to your opinion; I'm entitled to mine. But in respect to one another.
~*~
Title: Discussion by Firelight
Rating: PG
Warnings: Some controversial issues, language, opinions
Spoilers: Some details of Lord of the Rings but not many
Summary: Discussion by firelight is an old tradition. But what is brought up can change so quickly... Introspect/Opinion piece
~*~
The chamber was dark, save for a pool of flickering light from a roaring fire. A woman was settled in an enormous, winged armchair in front of it, comfortably basking. She was dressed in black, a soft shirt and dark pants, a dark gray blanket spread on her lap. On a small table beside her was a tea tray and a small, leather bound book.
Honey was poured into a cup, a long stream of amber orange liquid following after with soft wisps of steam curling upward. A slender gold spoon slowly stirred the tea. Eyes of dark brown closed as a soft sigh escaped small lips.
"Ouch!" came a cry as the tea was drunk too greedily. The drinker gingerly put the delicate porcelain cup down, nursing scalded lips and tongue.
"Take care, miss," came a teasing voice.
"Amusing," responded the injured woman dryly, as she pushed back a strand of long black hair. "And don't stay in the shadows. Come out, you assassin, you know that I'm near blind without my glasses."
"Why do you not wear them then?" was the cheeky answer.
"Because I'm bloody tired and they pinch. Sit down honestly, you're making me tired just watching you."
Gracefully, the visitor took a seat in soft, comfortable looking chair just across from the looming monstrosity of striped white and blue upholstery that the woman was currently seated in. He was tall and slim, hair fair and eyes gray.
"Tea?" She offered a ready cup.
"Thank you."
There was only silence for a while, punctuated by soft crackling from the fire in front of the two and the occasional slurp from the woman.
"How long as it been since our last meeting?" the visitor asked.
The woman smiled, though it was more than half bitter. "Too long. I missed you, and the others besides."
"So I am no longer your favorite?" Sensuous lips formed a mock-pout.
"Stop that, you idiot. You look enough like a child."
A sharp look was given by one pale gray eye. "I beg your pardon but last I checked..."
"I don't need a reminder," came a acid reply. Another sip of tea was drunk.
"I have been reading lately," the gray-eyed stranger mentioned, casually.
"All the crap?" There was a snort. "Are you disgusted?"
"At times..." The visitor tried to be diplomatic.
"Don't give me that. Blasted males... always beating around the bush. You think they're crap and you're just too polite to say so."
"If I would be so crude as to use that term."
"Good point. But I've heard the good Elrond Peredhil use the occasional expletive enough times."
"Shocking," the stranger said. He smiled however.
"As shocking as Frodo and Sam sharing each other's beds?" the woman asked.
Her visitor coughed. The tips of his ears were flushing slightly. "I believe that is something I have not heard of. I know they love one another deeply, but perhaps- ah, not in that manner."
"Precisely," came a satisfied, yet grim reply. "I may be a fan of slash, but when homophobes imply that and the evil of it all..." There was definite heat in the voice.
"And Tolkien was a Catholic I believe," the male said.
The woman shrugged. "That is not precisely the point." Her brown eyes studied her visitor. "Tolkien wrote about love in his tales in the style of ancient ballads; not much carnality but much about dedication and purity. You can see that in the tale of Arwen and Aragorn and of Eowyn and Faramir. They loved one another deeply, enough that they would sacrifice anything and support each other through the darkness in whatever way that could. However, Tolkien wrote of other loves as well. You could see the love that Gandalf had, or perhaps fondness, of Hobbits, specifically Frodo, Pippin, Merry, and Sam. But perhaps the purest of all that he wrote was between Frodo and Sam. It was a love that transcended everything, gender, species, age, rank, power. Maybe it was to the point that it seemed slavish, for Sam's devotion to Frodo, but that love was reciprocated between both of them. That was what he probably wanted. To show that love is beyond anything that we can ever comprehend, even the Elves." She paused for breath. "But to constantly translate that into lust and purely physical attraction is to be crude. There is nothing to say that either loved each other in that way. But it is undeniable to say that they shared a love that many of us will never see."
"A lovely speech," her companion said, with a smile. "You are born too late, my friend."
"Don't flatter me, you peacock," she said, but preened anyways. She took another sip of her tea. "In that matter, it seems boorish to assume that you and Gimli were- closer than friends should."
The male coughed delicately. "That would be reading too closely between the lines. There is nothing to say that we are more than close friends, who fight side by side."
"And exchange the numbers of enemies you've killed," said the wry response.
"True." He slowly rose. "I must take my leave. But do not worry, I will return tomorrow night."
"Ah- could I ask you a favor?" The woman was blushing.
A fine eyebrow arched. "Yes?"
"Could I throw dignity to the winds and be a complete fangirl and have a hug?"
He smiled at her. "Not a problem."
She got out of her seat and tightly wrapped her arms about him, burying her face into his slim, muscular chest. "Thanks, Legolas."
"Much obliged, my friend."
~*~
A/N: Heh, I must confess a love for our dear elf. I DO think that Orlando Bloom is attractive however. But I do NOT watch the movies for the sake of seeing our dear bishie elf.
/nods/ If you do review this piece, please send me constructive criticism. That would be appreciated, even from this little exercise.