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Narya
10/16/17 07:36 pm
Belated happy birthday, cheeky!
Naledi
10/16/17 02:30 pm
Belated happy birthday, Cheeky! I'm glad you had a good day :)
cheekybeak
10/16/17 09:54 am
Thanks Alquien. I had a great day!
Alquien
10/15/17 08:09 pm
Happy Birthday, cheeky! Best wishes! I hope you enjoy your special day! :)
Spiced Wine
10/15/17 01:28 pm
Has probably learned all about the Silmarillion and Appendices of LOTR from paying these games :D
Spiced Wine
10/15/17 01:27 pm
Fanfic is fanfic is fanfic,, Narya :) I'd really like to read it actually. Kev is absorbed; what with me filling in the background, he
Narya
10/15/17 12:46 pm
Actually, Spiced...with your administrator hat on, how would you feel about someone posting a fic here based on Shadow of Mordor?
Narya
10/15/17 12:44 pm
Like Spiced, I really enjoy watching the cut scenes - it's like someone wrote excellent fanfic and then animated it.
cheekybeak
10/15/17 01:57 am
My 21 year old stepson is here visiting and playing Shadow of War right now! He raves about it.
Narya
10/14/17 11:14 pm
Luckily it's Sam's birthday soon...I know what he's getting!
Shout Archive


Star of Africa by Glorfindel

[Reviews - 34]   Printer Chapter or Story
Table of Contents

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Story notes:
Beta: Keiliss – thank you :D
Artist: Erulisse - Sandra Graves, Isis Rising, Artistic Endeavors with Wings of Light. http://www.IsisRising08.com (artwork) and http://erulissedances.livejournal.com (fiction)
Chapter notes:
December 1905 - Regent’s Lodge, the London residence of Count Glorfindel.

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December 1905 - Regent’s Lodge, the London residence of Count Glorfindel.

“I say, Fin; it’s getting a bit dark in here,” Bunchy Cheverell said as he poked the fire. Bunchy, a chum of mine who normally rooms at his club when in London was spending the holiday season with me instead of cruising around the Mediterranean with his aunt. She is a veritable dragon, ceaselessly expounding on the evils of drink and the questionable benefits of temperance.

I rang the bell and had to wait for two minutes before my housekeeper, Mrs. Clavell, appeared, causing me to wonder where the butler was.

“You rang, My Lord?”

“Indeed I did. It is getting dark in here.”

“I will ask Fosberry to light the gas lamps, My Lord.” She curtseyed and left the room.

Fosberry appeared almost immediately and set to his task. When the lamps were fully lit the whole room was bathed in a cosy glow, which contrasted starkly with the dimly lit street outside. Driving sleet slapped against the window panes and slid down to the sills, partially melting upon contact with the glass. I thought how fortunate I was to be in front of a warm log fire.

“Will that be all, My Lord?” Fosberry asked. I suspected that Mrs. Clavell was within listening range, otherwise he would not be so formal.

“That will be all, Fosberry, thank you,” I replied. “Mrs Clavell can serve tea.”

The paperboy outside in the street, beyond the gates of my house, yelled something about some jewels. Fosberry and I exchanged glances and smiled. “It would seem, My Lord, that you require a newspaper.”

“Indeed.”

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