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Reflections in Imladris by Starfox General Audiences
Companion Piece to Musings In The Night. Legolas arrives in Imladris.
The Black Arrow by ziggy General Audiences
Thranduil strikes a bargain with his fiery neighbour. Smaug is dead and Esgaroth is devastated. Legolas fights to sav his...
Forever is never that far away by mangacrack Teen
"It won't stop," Elrohir says one day, surrounded by a band of dead Orcs. "Why it won't stop?"
Holding up the Sky by mangacrack General Audiences
[Maedhros & Aragorn] The meeting of two wary souls, comforting each other.
The Lost Princess by Alpanu Teen
Your life path had been difficult. You do not have a family nor a place you could call "home". You consider yourself to be...
The Trespasser by Linda Hoyland General Audiences
A herb mistress has a fateful encounter with a stranger.
The song of tomorrow by Nuredhel Explicit
The past reaches out towards the future...A living mystery is being delivered to the king of Mirkwood as a gift and a strange...

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Ysilme
03/30/17 01:32 am
I suppose they'd have a heart attack if I told them I'm writing fanfic in English these days. *g*
Ysilme
03/30/17 01:31 am
experience like you, Alpha, but with English: two English teachers told me I should try to get a job where I wouldn't need foreign languages as they judged me too little giftd in languages.
Ysilme
03/30/17 01:29 am
My father was a maths teacher, too, which wasn't always easy for me, *g* - my classmates considered it as uncool in a major way to be daugther of a maths teacher. And I made a similar
ziggy
03/28/17 11:13 pm
Wow- Naledi- you were Maths!! I am an English teacher and so agree. I am so careful - don't always get it right but try to make sure every interaction is positive.
Naledi
03/28/17 12:10 pm
I was a maths teacher too! A really soul-destroying job sometimes, because many children arrived at school already afraid of the subject.
Naledi
03/28/17 12:08 pm
It is sad how a bad teacher can make a child's time at school a misery. When I was teaching I was very conscious that even the most casual, throwaway comment could wound.
Alpha Ori
03/28/17 01:08 am
Love to meet him today and tell him I studied astronomy. Twit.
Alpha Ori
03/28/17 01:07 am
I still remember my maths teacher. Pasty faced and smelled of onions. I was traumatised, especially when he told my parents the only thing I was good at was sports.
Spiced Wine
03/24/17 02:30 pm
Most of my teachers were lovely - there were just a couple that were not nice.
ziggy
03/22/17 11:06 pm
I hate hearing about teachers who ruined a child's interest or confidence or curiosity- as a teacher myself, it actually hurts to think how someone has done that. It doesn't happen much now.
Shout Archive


True Likeness by curiouswombat

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So many pictures. He had drawn so many pictures over the years; given so many away, casually, to the subjects; whilst others had been intended, from the start, for archives and histories. Rumil sat on the floor considering which should now be sent to Imladris, to Eryn Lasgalen, to Minas Tirith – even to …doras.

They would take many with them to show Her Ladyship, Master Elrond, and Lady CelebrŪan the lives of family members they would never meet. But there were many other pictures to take for himself, for TindůmŽ, or to show Haldir when they met again.

Here were some of …omer King and his queen; they would take two or three of these with them, for TindůmŽ, Orophin, and Rumil himself had all liked the great king of the Riddermark. The others could go to …doras. Here were pictures of …owyn gardening; he would keep one for TindůmŽ as the two had been friends.

And so it went on. The children as elflings, Orophin and LithŰniel celebrating their binding; these would go West to show Haldir – and Rumil’s parents should they be there also.

Pictures of friends on the fences, pictures of friends starlight bathing… some he would send to those who remained here, some he would probably burn as there were too many to take with them.

Favourite pictures of TindůmŽ, of Orophin, of the children – all those would go, of course. He opened another folder and smiled; this was a favourite of his – Orophin sleeping with his head on TindůmŽ’s breast, that night in the Hornburg. That one would certainly go with them.

Another folder… He paused. What to do with these? Orophin with an elleth. There were plenty such over the years and probably many of them could be burnt but…

As he considered, TindůmŽ came in and, as usual, leant over his shoulder to see what he was looking at.

“Oh my! Elbereth Gilthoniel!”

“No…” he said, “Not quite…”

The pictures showed, very clearly, Orophin indulging in the desires of the body with Arwen. Here she had his grond in her hand, her head dipping towards it, mouth open. In another sketch she straddled Orophin as he lay on a very familiar bed, his hands bound to the headboard and a silk scarf covering his eyes, and then one in which the positions were reversed.

“Elo!” TindůmŽ said. “I didn’t know…”

“It was before Aragorn was born… whenever she visited for two, three yťni, we…”

“We? Oh, of course, you must have been there too… are there any pictures? And Haldir?”

He leafed through the folder and passed another to his wife. As was often the case, his own presence in the picture was less clear than that of the others, but he knew it showed Arwen sandwiched between himself and Orophin, with Rumil’s grond deep inside her whilst Orophin had his within her tightest entrance. TindůmŽ recognised Rumil as the second elf without difficulty.

“And Haldir?” she asked again.

“No. Oddly, never Haldir. He was already Marchwarden by the time Arwen used to share such pleasures with us. I think he felt it would have been… difficult. She was His Lordship’s granddaughter and, had she taken things too seriously, it might have made Haldir’s position awkward. We were just ordinary wardens – we had no such qualms! Neither did any of the other wardens with whom she went starlight bathing over the years…”

He passed her another picture. This one showed a group of four entwined together with the water lapping around their hips – none of them were Orophin, or Rumil for that matter, but the long dark hair and the profile of one of the ellyth showed that she was clearly the Evenstar.

Now both Rumil and TindůmŽ spoke together.

He began, “I do not know what to do with them, meleth…”

Whilst she said, “Oh, poor Arwen, it must have been so hard for her…”

“Oh, no,” Rumil said, choosing to misunderstand his wife, “she seemed to manage to find a great deal of pleasure without Haldir…”

“That is so not what I meant!” TindůmŽ said. “It must have been hard for her to give such freedoms up when she married Aragorn.”

Rumil thought about that, briefly.

“No, I do not think so, meleth. She loved him. I did not find it so hard to give them up when I met you…” Then he thought of that favourite picture of TindůmŽ and Orophin, “well, more or less give them up…”

“Mmm… I guess,” she answered, but she did not sound totally convinced.

“I do not know what to do with them,” he said again.

She looked at him questioningly.

“Well, they are not really suitable to put in the records for her parents, they were more… private. But I do not feel, now, that it would be right to destroy them, when there will be no more pictures of the Evenstar… ever.”

And almost from nowhere Rumil felt tears come. TindůmŽ’s arms were around him; she wept too. And then her hand sneaked inside his tunic to find his handkerchief. She dried her own eyes and then his.

“These are as much her as the ones of her wedding, or her children’s weddings… perhaps more. And, yeah, not really the thing to give her parents, I guess. But we will keep them,” TindůmŽ said. “And make sure that someone always remembers another side of who she really was.”


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Sindarin; Elo! = Wow! Grond = club = Elven slang for penis.

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