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LOVE IT!!!!!
And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who couldn't hear the music
Thanks! We were listening to The Two Towers earlier this week and kinda got back in the feel for this world I guess. We wrote nearly two whole chapters Tuesday and yesterday. XD
A cup of tea is cheaper than therapy.
Good for you!!!!
And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who couldn't hear the music
@ellette-giselle @koshka @keilah-h @hybridlore @theducktator @anyoneinterestedinRangers @loopylin (This is Onnendel’s WIP)
NOW AT LAST.
*dramatic drumroll*
Another installment!
In Which Tables Turn and Aenwest Delivers a Rant on Vigilance
Chapter 9
Dinner was full of ranger talk as everyone had a question for Travenor. Dwogin and I were mostly left out of the conversation, but for very different reasons. I had a feeling no one knew what to say to me, and I had been seated too far away from Kali to do more than wave at him. Venere had not returned. The few other lady rangers present were preoccupied with their own tables.
I wasn’t too bothered. It was fun just to sit in a real chair in a place I had long ago imagined. Details I hadn’t even thought to add to my mental image now presented themselves in quick order. The polished texture of the table, the play of candle light over everyone’s faces, and even the empty seat beside Travenor. Plus the way the food tasted better than anything I had eaten since those two partridges on the other side of the mountains. Definitely wouldn’t have thought of that detail.
I glanced over at that empty chair. If Vanere didn’t hurry, she’d have cold liver and herbs to eat by herself.
The hall suddenly silenced itself.
I looked up into the faces of my companions. Every ranger and the elf in the room had frozen, distant expressions. Onnendel had laid both hands flat to the table, his head turned toward the door. Several others had their weapons ready.
Footsteps.
The door flew open with a loud cry of “Endrion!” We all stared at the towering, cloaked figure striding in.
“Marks?” The master of the Dell rose from his seat.
I noted at least three swords slide inconspicuously back into their scabbards as the man bowed.
“Aye, sir. I bear news from the south.”
Silence once more settled in around the table. I caught a dark look between two men by the door and shuddered. Curiosity prickled up my spine.
“Tell on.” Endrion sat back down, and with a muted word bid the Marks fellow to take a seat beside him. Marks stood stiffly behind his chair, however. I think the rangers had all spent enough time in the saddle to understand. A trencher and cup were passed to him. He gratefully drained the cup, but didn’t touch the food. Everyone waited anxiously as he set the cup down.
I didn’t wait anxiously enough.
“There has been a great war in Gondor.” He began, his voice hoarse. “The dark lord Sauron rose up again.”
I gaped. It was really terrible. I don’t know how to describe what I felt in that moment. I think I had to swallow back three lumps in my throat before I could speak.
“Gondor… Sauron?” I croaked. The group around did not hear me however, and just kept talking.
This threatened literally everything. The best part of Imraldis’ reign was that it was untouched by Tolkien’s tendency to send elves fleeing for their lives. Worst of all, while everyone was shocked at the news, no one seemed confused like I was. Which could only mean this wasn’t the first time they had heard of Gondor. I gritted my teeth shut.
“This War.” An older ranger from another table chimed in. “It explains much of the turmoil we have been hearing from the south. I wish we could have gone to help in time.”
“True.” Marks bowed his head in acquiesce. “Yet our brethren were victorious. Gondor is no longer kingless. The enemy is defeated!”
Even Dwogin cheered. The room echoed back and the fire leapt up on the hearth as if excited to be a part of such a meeting. I almost forgot to breathe.
“We should go now. Pledge our allegiance to our king.” Endrion’s face was flushed with excitement. He looked more like a boy than an eighty year old man. Well, an eighty year old Dunadain with all the longevity of that race. The others agreed readily, and opinions on how such a trip should be carried out were soon darting back and forth across the room.
Only Onnendel shared my frozen silence. He looked like he wanted to smile, but he kept squeezing his eyes shut until a pained little furrow appeared on his forehead. His fingers started tapping the table top erratically. It took a moment, but Travenor noticed. He bent his head to whisper a question, but the elf just shook his head with a weak smile that looked like a grimace. I frowned. Or rather, frowned more, which probably qualified as a scowl.
Marks whoever he was -he certainly had a weird name for a Ranger – was beginning to unroll a map he had sketched. For a moment, the little fanfiction world I had made up was lit in the firelight. Men and women craned their necks to see better. Kali and two other kids snuck up to peek around Travenor. It should have been a heartwarming scene.
Except, that map. My hands fisted in my lap.
It should have been impossible. By rule of thumb, fanfics never come in direct contact with their inspiration unless the author wishes for it. In my recent experience as a character in one, I had never heard otherwise. This was a happy place where I could torment my favorite characters and destroy expected tropes whenever my actual WIP needed a break.
But now I was beginning to understand the depths of betrayal.
“To Gondor! At once!” Voices cried out. Eagerness and ecstasy crowded the room till the air balled up in my lungs. It was too much.
I slammed a hand down on the table, rattling the mugs of weak ale that quite frankly tasted terrible. The rangers turned to face me at last. I took a deep breath.
“Yes! By all means send a convoy to Aragorn son of Arathorn king of Gondor and Master of the West. He is apparently your captain, and will be glad of your support. But not now. Not when the fate of these northern lands is literally on the edge of a knife. Bân-Sercëon’s knife, to be exact.”
My villain’s name was hot on my tongue. It burned through the happy camaraderie around the table. The rangers flinched, and regarded me with surprise. Even Travenor looked startled.
I stood for dramatic effect.
“I know about the War of the Rings. All about it. It was horrible, dreadful, but it’s over now, and although Gondor will rise greater than before, many other kingdoms are fading. You have a purpose here that isn’t running off to meet Aragorn. Without the Birthright of Imraldis, the Gleaming City will fade too, like…like the Elder Days…like the plague of Egypt with thick black darkness and spiders the size of small children! Is that what you want?”
Several hard faced rangers shifted, blinked. Shock was turning to confusion. Marks stared at me.
“The Gleaming City had no part in these rings.”
“No.” I gave him a sharkish smile. “But the Elves did. Without the star there will be little to protect Imraldis’ people from the fading of their kindred besides their own gracious, tree-loving hearts.”
“The Silverstar has been stolen for centuries, milady.” Endrion leaned forward in his chair. “It is a dreadful loss, and we hope to help restore it to the rightful heir again. But many years have passed since that day. We cannot expect it to come to a head yet.”
I nearly gaped. I had no idea what to say to that–the lie I had myself planted back in the plotting stage. Scalding words and phrases all jumbled for use. Someone’s ale mug stood so close to me, just begging to be hurled at Endrion’s head. Say it was to wake him up.
Instead, with my fingers curling into the table and a sick feeling in my stomach, I exploded a little.
“Why not? What figment of pen and paper says that? Of course it’s coming to a head. Why do you think I’m here?” They stared at me. I sucked in a breath and tried to calm the raging inside. Raised my chin. “You rangers don’t just let wild orc bands wander these mountains, do you?”
Of course not. I knew that, and they knew that, but I’d lost them somewhere. I saw them staring at me, saw them trying to reconcile the respectable if possibly powerful Loreweaver with this pint-sized spitfire whose curls were half escaping her braids.
I sat back down with a huff.
The whispering quiet was broken by footsteps, again. The door swung open. The typical pause followed as most around the table turned to welcome the late comer. The cloaked figure closed the door behind her. Venere. I nearly sighed with relief. Surely my own self-insert would side with me.
“It is a storm outside.” She stood before Endrion, her hood thrown back to reveal her face. Dust and hard years beneath the elements could not hide the radiant beauty that shone from deep inside her. Even now as exhaustion shadowed her soft gray eyes I couldn’t help but notice how his gentled when he addressed his daughter.
“A storm? Of rain or shadow?”
“Worse.”
We all sat again as Vanere poured herself something to drink.
From the shadows Randal caught my eye. And he smiled.
You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan
Honestly! You two need this published!
The funniest thing is, you are writing a LotR fanfic but in a way that no one would actually say, “Oh, it’s fanfic!” It’s a complete twist of the rules! Quite brilliant really.
And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who couldn't hear the music
@elishavet-pidyon That was really good!
The funniest thing is, you are writing a LotR fanfic but in a way that no one would actually say, “Oh, it’s fanfic!” It’s a complete twist of the rules! Quite brilliant really.
Funny enough I always kinda assumed it was a LOTR fanfic that turned into its own thing, because the names of the characters and the fact that there were rangers, dwarves, and elves made me think “oh, the writer in this story was making a LOTR knockoff for fun or something.” I didn’t expect it to connect back to Tolkien’s canon though.
Honestly every single one of my non-fanfiction stories is pretty much a fanfiction but all the characters’ names are changed, their appearances are a little different, and they’re in a universe I created. If I got the motivation to write it I’d show you the story I have with Chisel, Coal & Singe, Headstriker, Hunterheart, and Marrow.
"When in doubt, eat cheese crackers."-me to my charries who don't even know about cheese crackers
No one will know those characters cause I haven’t talked much about them yet but they’re awesome.
"When in doubt, eat cheese crackers."-me to my charries who don't even know about cheese crackers
Thanks! We’re thinking of getting it printed, although we’re not certain about publishing. LotR has a vicious copyright gang.
Hehe. It’s been fun. I don’t know how clear this is, but it’s a satire on multiple aspects from authors to tendencies in fantasy tropes. The fanfic side is part of that, so we’re definitely twisting the rules!
Then there’s the B story, which should become more evident as it entertwines.
Thanks!
Honestly, it began without anything to do with LotR. References were added at first for humor, then we had fun satisfying our own pet peeves, and Middle Earth became more involved. I’m glad the crossing between Aenwest’s fanfic and cannon was a surprise! It’s important in the B story, although not so much in either A plot.
You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan
Oh, and I’d love to see your story! (Motivation problems understood though. Lol. I’ve got some projects like that.)
You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan
@elishavet-pidyon lollllll
Gonna have to create a topic for it sometime.
"When in doubt, eat cheese crackers."-me to my charries who don't even know about cheese crackers
welp, let’s see it this one goes through…
A cup of tea is cheaper than therapy.
Yay! okay, y’all. Expect to see another instalment by the end of the week.
A cup of tea is cheaper than therapy.
Croissants ?
Onnendel loves them. They remind him of a breakfast food he ate often as a kid. He will get very sad if one goes stale and mutter nostalgic nonsense as he toasts it.
Dwogin doesn’t really like them. They’re too fluffy and don’t have enough substance to them. Flattens his to show how much of it is just air bubbles. Ridicules Onnendel for liking them. Can never pronounce “Croissant” right.
Travenor likes them well enough, but he wants something to go with them. No croissant is enough on its own. He really wants a little meat with it, or some strong cheese. Usually washes it down with black tea.
Randal likes them well enough but lost his actual ability to taste years ago in a crazy accident. That’s a well-gaurded secret, so he usually comments on their “buttery” flavor several times.
Aenwest is mildly addicted to them. Loves them with melted honey butter drizzled all over. Teaches the others to as well. Well, all but Dwogin.
You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan
Tagging people so they see I’m talking to them…. No pressure to respond unless you want to.
@ellette-giselle @koshka @keilah-h @hybridlore @theducktator @loopylin @anyoneinterestedinRangersAs much as an instalment is intended, it probably won’t happen this next week. (Maybe, but unlikely. We have a drafted chapter, but the work needed is substantial.) We are incredibly busy this week as we get ready for ??✈️??. So, is there anything fun/random y’all would like? Character sketches, mood boards, situation humor, memes, backstory trivia… Stuff we can do relatively quickly, but will keep us developing this WIP?
You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan
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