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Glad y’all are enjoying this stuff!
@ellette-giselle (Definitely!)The question is why is he babysitting? Ban-Serecon could be a horrible, no good babysitter, or a kinda decent one. He would enjoy lording over his charges and probably hit them if they did anything out of line. And he’d use them as messengers, errand boys, or some such thing. But if he wanted to gain their loyalty – for whatever reason – he would actually be decently nice, although he’d be manipulating them. Talk well of them, reward them with things they liked, etc. So really a very terrible one, but the kids wouldn’t know it.
You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan
CHOCOLATE 🍫
Onnendel isn’t much of a chocolate person, but has a thing for dark chocolate with fruit in it. He likes milk chocolate well enough, but it can’t beat the snap of a good bar with tiny bits of sweetness and flavor balancing the bitter. Or even better, fruit jellies blanketed in a layer of silky, midnight chocolate. Eats it in tiny pieces, bit by bit. May secretly see it as a metaphor for life. Might even have written a poem about it. Who knows?
Dwogin doesn’t like chocolate unless it has coffee in it or is so dark you wince when you taste it. Says Onnendel cheats by eating the stuff with fruit in it, and openly calls milk chocolate a creation of weaklings and only fit for infants.
Travenor is secretly a milk chocolate person, but his true favorite are Spanish style truffles. He probably made himself sick on the Ranger version of Delaviuda truffles once or twice in his teens. Is amused by Dwogin’s distaste for milk chocolate, but keeps his truffle stash hidden just in case the dwarf finds them and ends up liking them. Once shared his truffles with Vanere to cheer her up after her pet fox died.
Randal is a Snickers person. The more nuts the better. Querrel introduced him to them once, since the Silver Lorekeeper preferred Twix, and so had an overabundance of Snickers from all the snack packs he’d somehow get. Randal is now measuring out his remaining Snickers, and keeping one to try to duplicate should he find a chocolatier. The Gleaming Wood probably has one.
Aenwest loves anything chocolate and peanut butter. Reese’s are her favorite. She likes Reese’s Pieces on popcorn, ice cream, and cheesecake. Anything really. Onnendel honestly thinks it’s disgusting. He even dislikes the smell, even though he’s too polite to do more than move to the opposite side of the room. The others aren’t sure what to think of it, except for Randal. Randal likes peanuts, so Reese’s make sense.
Ban-Serecon has never had chocolate. If he had, maybe he’d have turned out better.
You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan
Ope, didn’t tag y’all. ‘ere ya go! If yed rether not be tagged, jest say so. 😉
@ellette-giselle @koshka @keilah-h @hybridlore @theducktator @loopylin @power @anyoneinterestedinRangersYou have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan
@ellette-giselle @koshka @keilah-h @hybridlore @theducktator @loopylin @power @anyoneinterestedinRangers
Soooooooooo…. We did it! Another instalment. Also, heads up that we’ve done some editing to the plotline etc., so at the end of the last chapter, Vanere throws an orc helmet on the floor. ‘Cause the girl knows how to make an impression.
*ahem*
In Which Aenwest is Vindicated and Onnendel Actually Talks
Chapter 10
“Orcs.” was Kwestion’s painfully obvious remark.
Endrion wasn’t listening. He had caught hold of his daughter and was checking her over, worry etched into his stony face. He brushed dirt away from her cloak.
“Well, you seem to have gotten the better of them.” His voice was still tighter than usual. She laughed and patted his arm.
“Of course I did. But fighting is thirsty work. I feel like I ate dust.”
“You look like you did, too.” Travenor caught himself and shook his head. “That is…” He pulled out her chair for her. “Come, have a drink before we interrogate you.”
He poured her something from the pitcher on the table and sat back in his chair. She drank deeply while everyone watched. Which was probably unsettling, but she had enough nerve to drag out her drink for a good minute. She finally set her cup down with a sigh.
“Go on. I’m ready.”
“How many were there?” Kwestion leaned forward. To his credit, he did look genuinely concerned in the matter. She shrugged.
“About fifteen. I shot this one and had to fight off another, but left the rest to the wood.”
I felt a thick finger poke my arm and turned to see Dwogin watching me curiously.
“Is that good news?”
“Yes. Maybe.” I whispered back.
“What does that mean?” The dwarf scrunched up his nose. I waggled my fingers at him. This was really not the time to bring up my unreliable author-knowledge. It was just comforting to see the plot was back on track for the moment.
“Hush. I’ll tell you later. I want to hear what Vanere has to say.”
She was, in fact, in the middle of describing the device on the orc’s uniforms. The disquiet from my outburst earlier was starting to turn to more useful channels.
“They must have been part of the band we met on our way down the pass.” Travenor put in. “Or, under the same orders. This is not good.”
“Not good at all.” I muttered to myself, smiling. Randal was shaking his head at me. I shrugged. The candlelight was pretty again, although I still didn’t think I could finish my food. I pushed my plate to Dwogin to give him something else to focus on. He brightened up considerably.
The debate had moved beyond me for the moment. I was once more happy to let it, though I paid much more attention to it than I had at the beginning of the meal. This time I wasn’t startled out of my skin when Endrion addressed me.
“Is this what you mean, by the world balancing on the edge of a knife?”
I nodded, wiping the smile off my face.
“When it rains, it pours. I don’t think Gondor is the only place preparing for war.”
He blinked, considered for a moment, then tapped Kwestion’s map. “Tonight has been a night of unsettling news. Gondor calling for aid and orc bands hunting under the Traitor. We will need to consider our actions carefully.”
We all nodded solemnly.
“Onnendel?”
The prince turned toward the sound of his name.
“Our people are long friends. I would not cause you more grief. I want to hear your thoughts on these events.”
Onnendel stood slowly, one hand resting on his chair in a position an orator might take. It took a ridiculous amount of self control not to wiggle in anticipation. Maybe these people would finally cooperate.
“We have all seen grief. It is the way of the world. I was young when the Dread came, and much of my life has been under its shadow. Yet, I am blessed. I still remember the days before, when the sunlight fell in the palace garden like cords of liquid gold, and children played in the forest without fear. Many decades have passed since those days. The memory is distant. Darkened, even in the eyes of those who still see.” His mouth quirked into a half-smile for a moment. He paused, his fingers running absently over the patterns cut into the back of his chair.
“As you know, my father fell in defense of the city with the star in his hand. Many others of us have since fallen. Some have left to seek a way to the West, but few have made the journey safely. The evil that entered with our enemy cannot be purged from the Great Wood though we make war against it day and night.” The elf prince spoke softly, but his voice carried in the still room. His gaze was turned towards the fire at the far end of the hall. It cast his face in a yellow glow.
“I was a child then. I did not understand what was lost, or how it could be gotten back. But I knew it was worth fighting for. There are children now in the Gleaming Wood just as there are children here. They must live in the world we shape for them. I do not ask for pledges of friendship. I know I have it already. Neither do I ask for an army. I cannot lead one into battle. I will not even pretend to ask for you to take a course different from the one you must. No. I will instead ask that you continue to fight the darkness beside us, and that what small help I and my companions need will be given us. Each to fight in his own way. For me, it is my right and my burden to restore what was lost. For you, well, you must decide. But we are friends. May that never change.”
There was a thoughtful pause.
“The Silverstar can only be taken by the one to whom it belongs.” Randal spoke up. “You are the heir, yes?”
The elf actually laughed this time. “Yes. I am my father’s only child. The birthright is first mine, although it would belong to my cousin if I fell.”
“No!” Endrion and Travenor said in unison. Onnendel bowed to them.
“Agreed. I would rather my father’s line not die young and disappointed in life.” I was glad to hear a few of the rangers murmur their agreement. I rather liked my elf and would like to keep him around for a while.
“What help do you need?” Naturally, Endrion started asking questions. However, I was beginning to have an appreciation for those questions. I spoke up before Travenor could start on what was likely a rehearsed list. My feet were beginning to talk again at the thought of our quest.
“Horses would be a nice start.”
Onnendel smiled at me. “Ná! Yes. ”
I decided to ignore how strange that combination of words sounded.
“Also,” Travenor glanced at me. “We will need better supplies for the long journey. Do you have a bit of paper? And a pen?”
Kali vanished out a side door with a squeak. He returned with an only slightly wrinkled sheet of paper and what looked like medieval writing paraphernalia. A pen like a whittled down quill, and a bottle of ink. Travenor took them with a word of thanks that made the boy look like he had reached cloud nine.
“Well.” Endrion stood to address the rest of the group. “We shall further discuss our course in the morning. For the moment, everyone is free to do as they like. May we have a peaceful night.”
Which is to say, ‘would everyone please get out of my hair?’ The door was thrown open and the room slowly emptied itself into the passage beyond. Since I didn’t much care what else Travenor thought necessary for the journey considering the hours of research I’d done back in my plotting phase on this very topic, I aimed for the door to file out myself. Just before freedom however, a hand landed on my shoulder.
“Hmm?” I turned to find Vanere beside me. She tilted her head toward a different door.
“Why don’t we slip away and let the men talk? I have something for you in my rooms.”
To say the least, I was happy to follow. It was nice to talk to someone who was only a few inches taller than myself, not to mention someone decidedly female. The passage to her rooms wound back towards the center of the citadel where the structure was the oldest and the air currents slightly chilled. She opened a plain door into a surprisingly sweet little room.
There was a woven carpet on the floor rather than reeds, and a little fireplace with a low bench in front of it. Even more surprising, was how fresh the air inside was. I smelled a hint of lavender in the air.
“Please make yourself comfortable.” She waved me to the seat by the hearth. I settled down to watch as she went to a large carved chest and unlocked it.
“I think these should fit well enough.” She withdrew a pair of soft leather boots that looked much more comfortable than my shredded shoes. “If they don’t we can find a different pair, but I think our feet are about the same size.”
I tried them on, and turns out, she was right. Not that I was surprised to be honest. I grinned up at my self-insert as I tied the laces.
“Thank you. I will be rude and not check if you’re sure you want to give your things to an utter stranger. These are beautiful. I’m too grateful for words.”
She laughed.
“They will be much kinder to you than these were.” She nudged my murder shoes. “Not that these are bad shoes, but-”
“They’re terrible shoes.” I interrupted her with a snort. “About killed me once. They weren’t made for long journeys. Not even short ones.”
“That explains it.” She opened her mouth, then shut it. There was a curious look in her eyes.
“I do not mean to pry into another’s business.” She said, still hesitating. It was obvious that she very much meant to pry, but was not sure how to best go about it. I raised my eyebrows.
“Go on. I don’t mind questions, not if I can ask some of my own.” Who was I kidding? I had no questions of my own.
“I just wonder why you are with this group. It is unusual for a young woman to join ventures like this.”
And the other girls in the place were probably gossiping. Lovely. I bit my lip.
“Well, Quarrel died. They needed somebody who knew the ways inside the Dark mountain.”
“And you do?” The young woman looked at me with a kind of respect bordering on horror. I shrugged.
“In a way. I’ve never been there, but I.. see it? In my head.” There was no way I could explain this in a way she could understand. Maybe I could have if I was still confident in my abilities to predict what would happen in the story, but after tonight, I didn’t think I would be confident in anything for a long while. Especially not my worldbuilding. “Well, I tried making maps of the place. Randal wanted to ask me for advice concerning the way, but I knew they’d need someone to replace Querrel. I’m not like the other Lorekeepers, but I do weave stories. I understand this one. It felt like the right thing to do.”
She sat back on the bench across from me. Her gray eyes were a little sad. I reached out a hand.
“Couldn’t you come with us? Or, maybe not yet, but we’re sure to need your help soon.” I shrugged. “Especially Travenor. He may not be here often, what with running around being a Shadow Breaker and all, but you know he misses you. You’re the reason he doesn’t give up.”
“Oh.” She started, then smirked. “Not the only reason. Onnendel may be like the brother he never had, but I dare say his uncle Ellidan would roast Travenor alive if something happened to the Prince of Sildataure.”
“Oh, he would.” I hummed thoughtfully. That thought hadn’t struck me.
A tap came on the door. Venere rose and cracked the door open. I couldn’t see who was outside, but I heard a low voice that sounded like Endrion. Venere glanced back at me and motioned for me to join her.
It was Endrion. He was dressed in a dark cloak as if he was about to head out. He looked at me with what was probably the kindest expression so far.
“Your words were sharp this evening, but I understand your concern in this matter. We have heard many conflicting reports in the past few months. One day war draws eminent, yet another all is quiet. In this you can rest your fears. We will never abandon our friends.”
“I am glad to hear that, although I expected nothing less.” I said. He nodded.
“I go out now to see the truth for myself, as I will again tomorrow before the counsel meets. But one thing is certain,” Here his gaze flicked to his daughter. “The Shadowbreakers’ quest will be first in our thoughts. You will likely set out again in a day or two, depending on the safety of the roads.”
I thanked him, and for the first time in my living memory, he smiled a real smile.
You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan
@elishavet-pidyon your combination of “ ‘ere ya go” and “y’all” made me read your statement half in a British/Australian accent and half in an American one and it was SO WEIRD lol
"When in doubt, eat cheese crackers."-me to my charries who don't even know about cheese crackers
also this story is peak so far
the one thing that confuses me though is the mentions of Orcs, and Gondor; I’m sorry if I asked this a bunch of times before, because I’m sure I did, but is the story our authoress/main character gets swallowed by a fan fiction or no?
"When in doubt, eat cheese crackers."-me to my charries who don't even know about cheese crackers
Lol. Yeah, I kinda blended the accents a wee mite. 😉 Felt like laughing over something ridiculous.
Glad you like it! 😁
Ok, it IS a fanfiction. Just, all the characters and places are her own OCs, if that makes sense. So it’s kind of meant to be a spin off, a reversal of the darker sides of Tolkien’s tropes. The world, though dark, is not doomed to see light and beautiful things inevitably fade.
The twist in her story is that somehow, the fanfiction has actually connected to the original, even though she never intended it.
We have taken note of your confusion, and tried to clarify that more in the second draft of the chapter before last. XD The second edition will also be much more distinct from LotR in its worldbuilding, just to make the situation a little less copywriter infringing. They’ll probably universally call the orcs goblins.
You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan
The second edition will also be much more distinct from LotR in its worldbuilding, just to make the situation a little less copywriter infringing.
Not that we plan to publish this, but if we ever did we would want to be legal…XD
A cup of tea is cheaper than therapy.
@elishavet-pidyon ohhhh that makes sense.
"When in doubt, eat cheese crackers."-me to my charries who don't even know about cheese crackers
This is so fun to read! It’s hilarious to me reading about an author injected into her own story. I love it so much!
"Don't shine so that others can see you. Shine so that through you, others can see Him." ~ C.S.L.
ahh this is the best!!
And I love the chocolate thing!!!! I think I lean most toward Onnendel. The others may keep their nuts and peanut butter. Yick.
And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who couldn't hear the music
Hehe. Splendid!
Chocolate is a very personal thing. XD Personally, I like most chocolate, but only love some. Snickers are salty crunchy caramel goodness. 3 Musketeers are just nasty fluff. Belgian chocolate is lovely. Dark chocolate with orange or currant in it is a delicacy all its own. Reese’s peanut butter cups, particularly the mini ones, are pure, happy nostalgia. But Reese’s pieces are like that snack you lost in your backpack two months ago but is somehow there waiting when you’re stuck between flights in need of a munch: stale and only nice at weird times.
I could easily also share Travenor’s Spanish truffle addiction if they were easier to get.
You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan
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