zhie
in
shortfic_500
Whispers : Prompts 29, 84, 231, 261, 363, 367, 368, 403, 421; 51, 54, 268, 274, 333
Story Name: Whispers
Author: Zhie
Fandom: Tolkien
C/CP: House of Finwe
Prompt Word: 268.Wander, 274.Words, 51.Impress, 54.Stare, 333.Resist
Word Count: 125 each
Rating: G to NC17 range for series
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I'm just playing in the sandbox. I promise to return them when done, without too much sand in their boots.
WANDER
“Do you ever think about going back to Lindon?”
“And... doing what, exactly?” Gildor moved aside as one of the canvas covered wagons moved to a different position in the caravan.
“Rebuild it,” suggested Galadriel. “The soil is yet rich and not everything was destroyed.”
“Perhaps some buildings yet stand, but too many hopes and dreams died there. When I took leadership of these refugees, I did so knowing they had no desire to return to the ruin.”
“What about you?” pressed Galadriel as Gildor mounted his horse. “What is your desire?”
Gildor sat in silence, a smile brightening the mood of his departure. “Knowledge, as always, and I learn more doing than reading.”
“Ever like his father,” murmured Galadriel as he nephew rode away.
WORDS
Aredhel perched upon the edge of the chair beside her brother’s throne. She wasted no time with idle talk. “Too long have I lingered within these high walls, gate upon gate trapping me within. Once we rode and hunted in what woods are here in Gondolin, but now the crown sits heavy upon my brother’s brow. It is my wish to see Fingon.
“Our brother is busied with his own troubles.”
“Perhaps; and yet, it is what I desire.”
Turgon dared not look at her, knowing he would give in sooner. “You ask my leave, and I forbid you to go. I have doubts that my word will keep you here.”
“Perhaps a little while it might, but my will is stronger than mere words.”
IMPRESS
“Aredhel! Aredhel! Watch this!” Curufin sped his horse towards the hedges, leaping clear over with the beast barely clipping the leaves.
Celegorm rode back around, giving those who were applauding an incredulous look. “That impresses you?” And before waiting for an answer, galloped away, only to return at a greater speed. He headed right towards his brother, and Curufin instinctively covered his head with his arms as his brother fearlessly pushed his stallion to jump over Curufin and his horse.
Maedhros nudged his mount sideways in order to speak to Aredhel as everyone else laughed at Celegorm’s smugness and Curufin’s curses. “Do you ever get tired of watching them curry your favor?”
“Rogues, all of you,” answered Aredhel as Maglor attempted to best his brothers.
STARE
“What are the two of you doing? Your mother has shouted for the last ten minutes.” Elrond approached the table. His sons were sitting, staring at the other. “What is going on?”
“Shh, Ada, you will break my concentration,” insisted Elladan, his eyes never moving.
Elrohir answered back, “A small distraction like that has no effect on me.”
With a sigh, Celebrian entered the room, looking harried and a little angry. “Are those two having another staring contest? I need help in here!”
“It will not be long, Nana, El is bound to blink soon,” Elladan reassured her.
“Nuh-uh.”
Elrond rolled his own eyes, reached his hand between them and snapped his fingers, making the twins jump and blink. “Go help your mother,” he scolded.
RESIST
Patience is a virtue. It rings in my ears as my mantra.
I am alone with him now. In a house vast enough for hundreds to live in, only he and I haunt the halls. Every time I see him lurking in a corridor, I want to call out to him, fling my arms around him... but I resist.
Patience is a virtue...
We sit together for meals often, for there is no one else to sit with. I steal glances every moment I get, be it in conversation or when he sips his drink. I want to slide into his lap, lick the wine from his lips... but I resist.
Patience is a virtue...
I want to hold him, have him...
Damn my patience.
Story Name: Whispers
Author: Zhie
Fandom: Tolkien
C/CP: House of Finwe
Prompt Word: 231. Rape; 29. Secret; 84. Destroy; 403. Court; 363. Hate; 367. Trust; 368. Anorexic; 421. Fear; 261. You
Word Count: 125 each
Rating: G to NC17 range for series
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I'm just playing in the sandbox. I promise to return them when done, without too much sand in their boots.
RAPE
We never discuss it.
Maybe I should press her about it. Somehow, it seems it would be therapeutic, for both of us. She guards us from the truth, thinking it would cause us more harm to know exactly what happened. As for myself, sometimes I think I conjure up images more horrible, and other times I wonder if my imagination could ever create the horrors she endured. All I have are unexpected glimpses of the past, when...
“Elrond... please, no.”
“Did I hurt you?” I draw fully away in a panic. I would never hurt her. Never.
A soft sniffle, and then... “No, just... please do not... do not touch me like that.”
I nod vigorously in the dark, no need to be told twice.
SECRET
In the shadows I lurk. I glare. My expression probably rivals the one my father wears in council.
But there is no one to affirm my suspicions as I remain hidden and watch my sister cross the room with her beloved. They laugh and refill their glasses with wine. I scowl.
My secret... I hate him. I hate what it means. This... Man... who I helped raise, who I knew as my little brother, will take my sister away from us. I tend to speak my mind, but this is one secret that shall remain so, even from my twin.
I watch my brother happily join them. I lose her if I say nothing, but if I reveal my distaste, I risk losing them all.
DESTROY
To them, it is the final blow. One last virtual kick in the teeth.
To me, it is redemption. I was led astray once. There are things I did that I am not so proud of now. So much destruction and death. So much was fought for, all for the wrong reasons.
This is my chance to turn everything around. It is not so easy as simply taking the tower down, however. That is only the half of it. The rest is walking away from it, the opportunity to rebuild and reestablish myself as a ruling power.
I hear the cheers around me from subjects and peers alike as the tower falls. Does it really matter what it is as long as it is done?
COURT
“Manwe has summoned you to appear for crimes against your brother.”
“Half-brother,” came the icy reply.
Finwe placed his hands upon his eldest. “Through me he is your brother. It was an ill choice to draw sword against him.”
“So? It was a disagreement between siblings. Why should I go to stand before the Valar? They do not rule us! Aye, they led us here, but I never chose Manwe as my king!”
“Then who would you choose as king, my son?”
The answer was immediate. “You, father. You are the only king I know.”
Finwe dropped his hands from Feanor’s shoulders. “Then your king commands you to stand before Manwe and be judged.”
“If my king wills it, I shall go,” said Feanor softly.
HATE
“Why do you hate our brother?”
“What?” Feanor evaded the question the best he knew how - with other questions. “Why do you think I hate him?”
Finarfin was sitting on a chair too big for him, little legs dangling off. His other siblings were old enough to help their mother set out the meal, but this brother who refused to live in the same house was always exempt from such chores and often gave Nana disturbing looks. “’Cause I heard you say you did.”
“Oh, really? And when was that?”
“Last time you were here. You and Ada were talking and I was hiding behind the door.”
Feanor gave his youngest sibling a stern look. “Sneaking and spying are very low things to do, Finarfin.”
TRUST
“This is silly.”
Elrond sighed. “Erestor, this is an exercise in trust. I need my council members to trust one another.”
The blindfold was lifted. He glared at Elrond as he spoke. “By falling backwards and hoping not to land on my ass. I would rather not.”
“You have to trust me and trust your fellow-“
“I am much heavier than I look,” interrupted Erestor to much laughter.
Elrond threw his arms upwards. “Put your blindfold on; I will catch you.”
Resignedly, Erestor did as told. At least it would be done quickly. He went limp, but was caught by arms more powerful than his lord.
“You are heavy,” whispered a voice.
“Put me down, Fin.”
“But, then you would land on your ass.”
ANOREXIC
“Sweetheart, come here.” Anaire tried to mask the concern in her voice as her son approached. When Fingon stopped in front of her, she took hold of his wrist. Her fingers wrapped around the slender joint. “You need to have lunch, Fin.”
“I would just have to practice longer to lose the weight,” he argued.
“Lift up your shirt,” his mother insisted.
“Aiya! Nana...” but he did as asked, rolling his eyes when she gasped.
“Get into that kitchen now! I can see your ribs,” she said, her hands shaking as she touched one of the bones that jutted out.
“I am in shape,” he answered tersely. “This is normal.”
“You are starving yourself!”
“I am fine!” Fingon tugged down his shirt and stomped off.
FEAR
“Is that a spider?” Glorfindel scooted away. “Would you...?”
“Hmm?” His companion looked over, and then frowned. “You are afraid of spiders now?”
“Just little ones.”
“But not big ones,” said Erestor, letting the arachnid crawl onto his hand.
“No.”
“How come?”
“Little ones might creep into my hair.” Glorfindel settled again once the spider was relocated.
“Afraid of thunder, of spiders... anything else?”
“Lots.” Glorfindel checked for other eight-legged tormenters. “Bet you have a few fears yourself.”
“Just one.”
“Must be something big.”
“Oh, it is.” Erestor sighed when Glorfindel stared expectantly. “Being alone for eternity.”
‘Pounce him!’ whispered one voice in Glorfindel’s head, while the other chanted, ‘Patience is a virtue.’
“Did you say something?”
Glorfindel bit his lip and shook his head.
YOU
You believe I do not know. You think I would reject you.
You are obvious. You are tempting. You are different.
You must have some idea of how I feel. You have to wonder at the very least.
You excite me. You delight me. You turn me inside out and upside down.
You are all I have. You are all I need.
You make the simple things unique. You make my bitter world sweet.
You have touched me. You have kissed me. You have held me. You have missed me.
You are incomplete. You need me. You are so close.
You have to be the one to be the one to do it.
You love me. You are loved by me.
But... I am afraid.
Author: Zhie
Fandom: Tolkien
C/CP: House of Finwe
Prompt Word: 268.Wander, 274.Words, 51.Impress, 54.Stare, 333.Resist
Word Count: 125 each
Rating: G to NC17 range for series
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I'm just playing in the sandbox. I promise to return them when done, without too much sand in their boots.
WANDER
“Do you ever think about going back to Lindon?”
“And... doing what, exactly?” Gildor moved aside as one of the canvas covered wagons moved to a different position in the caravan.
“Rebuild it,” suggested Galadriel. “The soil is yet rich and not everything was destroyed.”
“Perhaps some buildings yet stand, but too many hopes and dreams died there. When I took leadership of these refugees, I did so knowing they had no desire to return to the ruin.”
“What about you?” pressed Galadriel as Gildor mounted his horse. “What is your desire?”
Gildor sat in silence, a smile brightening the mood of his departure. “Knowledge, as always, and I learn more doing than reading.”
“Ever like his father,” murmured Galadriel as he nephew rode away.
WORDS
Aredhel perched upon the edge of the chair beside her brother’s throne. She wasted no time with idle talk. “Too long have I lingered within these high walls, gate upon gate trapping me within. Once we rode and hunted in what woods are here in Gondolin, but now the crown sits heavy upon my brother’s brow. It is my wish to see Fingon.
“Our brother is busied with his own troubles.”
“Perhaps; and yet, it is what I desire.”
Turgon dared not look at her, knowing he would give in sooner. “You ask my leave, and I forbid you to go. I have doubts that my word will keep you here.”
“Perhaps a little while it might, but my will is stronger than mere words.”
IMPRESS
“Aredhel! Aredhel! Watch this!” Curufin sped his horse towards the hedges, leaping clear over with the beast barely clipping the leaves.
Celegorm rode back around, giving those who were applauding an incredulous look. “That impresses you?” And before waiting for an answer, galloped away, only to return at a greater speed. He headed right towards his brother, and Curufin instinctively covered his head with his arms as his brother fearlessly pushed his stallion to jump over Curufin and his horse.
Maedhros nudged his mount sideways in order to speak to Aredhel as everyone else laughed at Celegorm’s smugness and Curufin’s curses. “Do you ever get tired of watching them curry your favor?”
“Rogues, all of you,” answered Aredhel as Maglor attempted to best his brothers.
STARE
“What are the two of you doing? Your mother has shouted for the last ten minutes.” Elrond approached the table. His sons were sitting, staring at the other. “What is going on?”
“Shh, Ada, you will break my concentration,” insisted Elladan, his eyes never moving.
Elrohir answered back, “A small distraction like that has no effect on me.”
With a sigh, Celebrian entered the room, looking harried and a little angry. “Are those two having another staring contest? I need help in here!”
“It will not be long, Nana, El is bound to blink soon,” Elladan reassured her.
“Nuh-uh.”
Elrond rolled his own eyes, reached his hand between them and snapped his fingers, making the twins jump and blink. “Go help your mother,” he scolded.
RESIST
Patience is a virtue. It rings in my ears as my mantra.
I am alone with him now. In a house vast enough for hundreds to live in, only he and I haunt the halls. Every time I see him lurking in a corridor, I want to call out to him, fling my arms around him... but I resist.
Patience is a virtue...
We sit together for meals often, for there is no one else to sit with. I steal glances every moment I get, be it in conversation or when he sips his drink. I want to slide into his lap, lick the wine from his lips... but I resist.
Patience is a virtue...
I want to hold him, have him...
Damn my patience.
Story Name: Whispers
Author: Zhie
Fandom: Tolkien
C/CP: House of Finwe
Prompt Word: 231. Rape; 29. Secret; 84. Destroy; 403. Court; 363. Hate; 367. Trust; 368. Anorexic; 421. Fear; 261. You
Word Count: 125 each
Rating: G to NC17 range for series
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I'm just playing in the sandbox. I promise to return them when done, without too much sand in their boots.
RAPE
We never discuss it.
Maybe I should press her about it. Somehow, it seems it would be therapeutic, for both of us. She guards us from the truth, thinking it would cause us more harm to know exactly what happened. As for myself, sometimes I think I conjure up images more horrible, and other times I wonder if my imagination could ever create the horrors she endured. All I have are unexpected glimpses of the past, when...
“Elrond... please, no.”
“Did I hurt you?” I draw fully away in a panic. I would never hurt her. Never.
A soft sniffle, and then... “No, just... please do not... do not touch me like that.”
I nod vigorously in the dark, no need to be told twice.
SECRET
In the shadows I lurk. I glare. My expression probably rivals the one my father wears in council.
But there is no one to affirm my suspicions as I remain hidden and watch my sister cross the room with her beloved. They laugh and refill their glasses with wine. I scowl.
My secret... I hate him. I hate what it means. This... Man... who I helped raise, who I knew as my little brother, will take my sister away from us. I tend to speak my mind, but this is one secret that shall remain so, even from my twin.
I watch my brother happily join them. I lose her if I say nothing, but if I reveal my distaste, I risk losing them all.
DESTROY
To them, it is the final blow. One last virtual kick in the teeth.
To me, it is redemption. I was led astray once. There are things I did that I am not so proud of now. So much destruction and death. So much was fought for, all for the wrong reasons.
This is my chance to turn everything around. It is not so easy as simply taking the tower down, however. That is only the half of it. The rest is walking away from it, the opportunity to rebuild and reestablish myself as a ruling power.
I hear the cheers around me from subjects and peers alike as the tower falls. Does it really matter what it is as long as it is done?
COURT
“Manwe has summoned you to appear for crimes against your brother.”
“Half-brother,” came the icy reply.
Finwe placed his hands upon his eldest. “Through me he is your brother. It was an ill choice to draw sword against him.”
“So? It was a disagreement between siblings. Why should I go to stand before the Valar? They do not rule us! Aye, they led us here, but I never chose Manwe as my king!”
“Then who would you choose as king, my son?”
The answer was immediate. “You, father. You are the only king I know.”
Finwe dropped his hands from Feanor’s shoulders. “Then your king commands you to stand before Manwe and be judged.”
“If my king wills it, I shall go,” said Feanor softly.
HATE
“Why do you hate our brother?”
“What?” Feanor evaded the question the best he knew how - with other questions. “Why do you think I hate him?”
Finarfin was sitting on a chair too big for him, little legs dangling off. His other siblings were old enough to help their mother set out the meal, but this brother who refused to live in the same house was always exempt from such chores and often gave Nana disturbing looks. “’Cause I heard you say you did.”
“Oh, really? And when was that?”
“Last time you were here. You and Ada were talking and I was hiding behind the door.”
Feanor gave his youngest sibling a stern look. “Sneaking and spying are very low things to do, Finarfin.”
TRUST
“This is silly.”
Elrond sighed. “Erestor, this is an exercise in trust. I need my council members to trust one another.”
The blindfold was lifted. He glared at Elrond as he spoke. “By falling backwards and hoping not to land on my ass. I would rather not.”
“You have to trust me and trust your fellow-“
“I am much heavier than I look,” interrupted Erestor to much laughter.
Elrond threw his arms upwards. “Put your blindfold on; I will catch you.”
Resignedly, Erestor did as told. At least it would be done quickly. He went limp, but was caught by arms more powerful than his lord.
“You are heavy,” whispered a voice.
“Put me down, Fin.”
“But, then you would land on your ass.”
ANOREXIC
“Sweetheart, come here.” Anaire tried to mask the concern in her voice as her son approached. When Fingon stopped in front of her, she took hold of his wrist. Her fingers wrapped around the slender joint. “You need to have lunch, Fin.”
“I would just have to practice longer to lose the weight,” he argued.
“Lift up your shirt,” his mother insisted.
“Aiya! Nana...” but he did as asked, rolling his eyes when she gasped.
“Get into that kitchen now! I can see your ribs,” she said, her hands shaking as she touched one of the bones that jutted out.
“I am in shape,” he answered tersely. “This is normal.”
“You are starving yourself!”
“I am fine!” Fingon tugged down his shirt and stomped off.
FEAR
“Is that a spider?” Glorfindel scooted away. “Would you...?”
“Hmm?” His companion looked over, and then frowned. “You are afraid of spiders now?”
“Just little ones.”
“But not big ones,” said Erestor, letting the arachnid crawl onto his hand.
“No.”
“How come?”
“Little ones might creep into my hair.” Glorfindel settled again once the spider was relocated.
“Afraid of thunder, of spiders... anything else?”
“Lots.” Glorfindel checked for other eight-legged tormenters. “Bet you have a few fears yourself.”
“Just one.”
“Must be something big.”
“Oh, it is.” Erestor sighed when Glorfindel stared expectantly. “Being alone for eternity.”
‘Pounce him!’ whispered one voice in Glorfindel’s head, while the other chanted, ‘Patience is a virtue.’
“Did you say something?”
Glorfindel bit his lip and shook his head.
YOU
You believe I do not know. You think I would reject you.
You are obvious. You are tempting. You are different.
You must have some idea of how I feel. You have to wonder at the very least.
You excite me. You delight me. You turn me inside out and upside down.
You are all I have. You are all I need.
You make the simple things unique. You make my bitter world sweet.
You have touched me. You have kissed me. You have held me. You have missed me.
You are incomplete. You need me. You are so close.
You have to be the one to be the one to do it.
You love me. You are loved by me.
But... I am afraid.