Drabbles, continued

[thrihyrne]

I'm probably crazy, but if there are five of you out there wanting drabbles, note so here. I'll write Wraeththu, HP, Tolkien and Swordspoint. I'm between fics, and had loads of fun writing drabbles last week.

Off-list, I received a request from persephone100 for a Wraeththu-centric drabble: I'd like to see your take on the ultimate reunion of Cal and Pell when Cal first gets to Imannion. Either one's POV. You know that scene when Cal comes to Pell's room after their very long separation.

This scene is so visceral from Cal's POV and what he says, canonically, so I went with Pell's POV. This follows directly from Pell's comments at the end of chapter thirty of The Fulfillments of Fate and Desire, and Cal's so astute observation afterward:

"Pick the glass from my skin first, Cal. I may be immortal, but not impervious to pain. Here I am; yours. I always have been. Want to come home now?"

There were no shooting stars, no huge explosions. We didn't even know if we were truly in love as we'd once thought; only time would tell us that.

please forgive the reference to Evanescence in the title, but I do love that song.

Rating: PG (nothing explicit)



Strangely soft fingers picked at the glass embedded in Pellaz's skin; it wasn't the calloused flesh he'd loved and then half-remembered, half-forced away from memory. This Cal burned with authoritative humility; ever a contradiction, but even to Pell's stunned mind, Cal was no longer at odds. Any witty reparte had been ground to pungent cinnamon on his tongue. Thirty years — thirty years — they were old lovers, clad in new skin.

Pell couldn't wait, and yet, he had forever. He eased onto his back, cautiously feeling for shards, his body yearning for completion, for the comforting, beloved physique.

Nodding, Cal descended.

Comments

Tolkien drabble; set in the Prancing Pony

[thrihyrne.livejournal.com]

OMG. I didn't think I'd ever hear from you or Wolfie again. So glad that you were able to be here! I love your prompt, and I'm so proud of it; I perhaps doubt that I went the route you were looking for, but: Here's a drabble taken directly from Tolkien, though I'm sure JRRT would never have written this.

((((clings))))
* * * * *
Below from "At the Sign of the Prancing Pony," LotR: Fellowship of the Ring
"On the benches were various folk: men of Bree, a collection of local hobbits (sitting chattering together), a few more dwarves, and other vague figures difficult to make out away in the shadows and corners."

* * * * *

"Dark news, there is," Glavin said, puffing importantly on his pipe, fingers intertwined in his goldsmith's plait. "And these new Shire-hobbits will tell the true tale." His olive eyes lit up, the flecks in his pupil like metal newly smeltered.

Only his companion from the Lonely Mountain picked up on this, of course, a lesser-known silversmith, newly out of her apprenticeship. Behind her beard, she scowled. Men of Bree, rural hobbits; they knew nothing of their culture, of what her people prepared for, diligent and secret. Crows had informed them in the past; they'd told a new tale:

TO ARMS.

Re: Tolkien drabble; set in the Prancing Pony

[koshweasley.livejournal.com]

Excellent! And there was no real direction I was hoping for, just something from their the books didn't cover.

{ { { { hugs you tightly } } } }