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~ Magnificat of the Damned. Book IV: Anvil ~ by Spiced Wine Mature
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Spiced Wine
08/15/18 10:47 am
Thank you, Alquien :) Unless we have to move to a new server, money is not a problem :)
Alquien
08/15/18 04:50 am
Just now playing catch up here but anyway, count me in for a donation. I love this archive!
Spiced Wine
08/14/18 12:21 pm
I think it’s important to keep these Tolkien specific archives going, especially with so many dying.
Spiced Wine
08/14/18 12:20 pm
She’s quite willing to keep it hosted on the same server, just the admin/tech work would be done by someone else.
Spiced Wine
08/14/18 12:19 pm
I don’t think we need to worry about the archive going, esteliel just thinks it would be better if someone acted as host/admin who was in the fandom.
Ysilme
08/14/18 11:52 am
Thank you, Spiced!
Kalendeer
08/14/18 10:47 am
So I would be ready to contribute as well and really sad to see the archive go :)
Kalendeer
08/14/18 10:43 am
I am mostly on AO3 but I like Faerie a lot better than FFnet to be honest, and the best reviews I ever got were on Faerie.
Spiced Wine
08/13/18 02:14 pm
If you do, Ysilme, I will pass you email on to Esteliel :) You would make a great overall host for the archive.
Ysilme
08/13/18 02:04 pm
I also might be able to help with the technical site of things. I'll send you a mail, Sîan, for details.
Shout Archive


Disruption by Ysilme

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Story notes:

For keiliss.

This was supposed to be a birthday ficlet half a year ago, but my muse had different ideas about that.

Disclaimer: Middle-earth belongs to Tolkien. This is a work of transformative fiction; I'm not making any money with it, just playing around for fun.

Many thanks to lordhellebore for the beta. Any remaining mistakes are my own.



The door to Elrond’s study suddenly opens, which is uncommon; usually, everybody knocks, even if not all wait for an invitation to come in. Only one person would disregard their customs in this way, so Elrond is not left in doubt as to who is about to enter and puts his quill down with a sigh. Around him, the peaceful quiet of the room changes into subtle movement. Shadows vanish, a tail is drawn behind a curtain, a head lowered. Eyes close, ears turn, whiskers twitch.

When his visitor enters, Elrond looks up. “Can I help you?” he asks with restrained civility. He holds his mother-in-law in high esteem and usually cooperates well with her. But living with her under the same roof can be taxing, particularly when she assumes the right to do as she pleases. Not surprisingly, she is also the only person in his household who does not care if she comes at an inconvenient time. All of Imladris knows their Lord is not to be disturbed when he is doing the books, but not so the Lady Galadriel.

“’Afternoon, Elrond. I am looking for my elusive husband; I have not seen him all day.”

Elrond’s eyebrows make a valiant attempt to reach his hairline. She is disrupting him for this?

He remains silent, but she is unfazed. Eventually, he says: “I believe he has gone hunting with the twins.”

“Oh.” A moue of disapproval contorts her features. “Ah, well. I will not interrupt you further, then.”

“You are welcome,” Elrond says to the door which has fallen closed behind her. With a smirk, he picks up his quill again. He does not begrudge the Lord of the Golden Forest this little reprieve at all. At least Celeborn is able to let go and enjoy life when he is away from home, contrary to his wife. He loves his grand-children and spends as much time with them as possible, a fact Elrond cherishes even more as he does not remember his own father, nor his mentors doing anything ever just for the fun of it.

He makes a chirping noise. “Peace and quiet once more, my darlings,” he says. “You may relax once again.”

A curled-up body stretches out again on the settee, a striped tail slowly slips back out from under the curtain on the windowsill. On the sideboard, the tips of pointed ears rise above the rim of a wide bowl, and a ginger paw lazily creeps out between some books high in a bookcase. Soft steps approach.

A movement at his side makes Elrond lift up his free hand and then lower it again on the small body curling up on his lap, gently stroking the soft fur. Peace restored.

With a smile, he turns back to his ledgers.

-(oOo)-

 

 

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