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b2mem2015-03-05 05:21 pm
the-wavesinger.livejournal.com) wrote in b2mem2015-03-05 05:21 pm
Dust Clouds by The Wavesinger
B2MeM Challenge: This must be F/M day for me. For all it is the biggest romance story in Tolkien's work (way bigger than even Feanor/Nerdanel or Aragorn/Arwen or Hurin/Morwen, etc.) and his favorite, it is not the biggest in fandom. I would like to something more about Beren/Luthien. Any genre, any rating, any angle--![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
heartofoshun
Format: Ficlet
Genre: Romance
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Characters: Lúthien, Beren, Huan
Pairings: Beren/Lúthien
Creators' Notes (optional): Unbeta'd and disjointed, so read at your own risk
Summary: Lúthien rides in pursuit of Beren
I am Lúthien Tinúviel.
I am Lúthien Tinuviel, daughter of Melian and Thingol, and I thought I would never be betrothed to any man.
I am Lúthien Tinuviel, daughter of Melian and Thingol, and I love Beren son of Barahir. He, too, loves me.
The love I bear him is not the only reason I ride madly towards the Pass of Sirion, for this command of my father’s is madness and cruelty. I do not understand what he hopes to achieve, for he is not normally harsh, but whatever wrongs have been done to my beloved must be redressed.
Besides, it is folly for him, a mere mortal, to even think of walking into Angband and stealing a Silmaril. Only he who has lost all hope would allow himself to contemplate that, and so I fear for Beren. So, indeed, I fear for myself, but I cannot begin to think of that.
The dust billows around me, and my faithful friend carries me into the jaws of death.
“Do not ever do that again,” I say to him.
“I cannot allow you to put yourself in danger.” He is stubborn, as mortal men are; his pride and chivalry are frustrating even my patience.
“You are in more danger than I am, my love,” I tell him.
He shakes his hair out of his face. Oh how I long to touch that hair, that skin, that face, though some part of me still entrenched in the customs of Doriath screams against it. Beren has no such constraints, but I do not think such gestures are part of his nature, for he has dwelt alone for many years. His face is not beautiful, but the thoughts that are so clearly painted on it are.
I know that he will not give in today. The truth, though, is one which he must have realized—if this quest is to be attempted, I must go with him.
I do not speak my thoughts aloud, and neither does he. Instead, we eat in silence, watching the twinkle of the small fire we dared strike up.
Soon, I drift into half-wakefulness, my lids dropping heavily.
It is only as I fall asleep that I register that his hand has crept to my hair.
heartofoshunFormat: Ficlet
Genre: Romance
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Characters: Lúthien, Beren, Huan
Pairings: Beren/Lúthien
Creators' Notes (optional): Unbeta'd and disjointed, so read at your own risk
Summary: Lúthien rides in pursuit of Beren
—
I am Lúthien Tinúviel.
I am Lúthien Tinuviel, daughter of Melian and Thingol, and I thought I would never be betrothed to any man.
I am Lúthien Tinuviel, daughter of Melian and Thingol, and I love Beren son of Barahir. He, too, loves me.
The love I bear him is not the only reason I ride madly towards the Pass of Sirion, for this command of my father’s is madness and cruelty. I do not understand what he hopes to achieve, for he is not normally harsh, but whatever wrongs have been done to my beloved must be redressed.
Besides, it is folly for him, a mere mortal, to even think of walking into Angband and stealing a Silmaril. Only he who has lost all hope would allow himself to contemplate that, and so I fear for Beren. So, indeed, I fear for myself, but I cannot begin to think of that.
The dust billows around me, and my faithful friend carries me into the jaws of death.
—
“Do not ever do that again,” I say to him.
“I cannot allow you to put yourself in danger.” He is stubborn, as mortal men are; his pride and chivalry are frustrating even my patience.
“You are in more danger than I am, my love,” I tell him.
He shakes his hair out of his face. Oh how I long to touch that hair, that skin, that face, though some part of me still entrenched in the customs of Doriath screams against it. Beren has no such constraints, but I do not think such gestures are part of his nature, for he has dwelt alone for many years. His face is not beautiful, but the thoughts that are so clearly painted on it are.
I know that he will not give in today. The truth, though, is one which he must have realized—if this quest is to be attempted, I must go with him.
I do not speak my thoughts aloud, and neither does he. Instead, we eat in silence, watching the twinkle of the small fire we dared strike up.
Soon, I drift into half-wakefulness, my lids dropping heavily.
It is only as I fall asleep that I register that his hand has crept to my hair.
no subject
I have to admit that I have moments when explicit moments in romance kills the mood for me as well, for some reason, (I skip over lots of scenes when I'm reading) but then, most of the time I don't mind the explicit part. It just doesn't do anything for me. Each to their own, I guess.
*stops yammering about self, says thank you, and shuts up*
no subject
I kind of do mind explicit parts; I'm rather a fan of euphemisms, innuendo, and fade to black, myself. Explicit scenes make me feel like I'm invading someone's privacy. Kind of silly, since it's fictional someones, but there it is.
And truthfully, when someone is writing about a society that is more reserved about physical affection, a small touch or a light kiss is often much more realistic and emotional than something else would be.
no subject
Not silly at all! Fictional someones are people too. At least in my opinion. [Which doesn't really count because I tend to get rather attached to fictional characters, but yes] And the only near-almost-but-not-quite-explicit scene I've ever written came up to a grand total of two lines, one of which was about Eru blessing Numenor (don't ask). (Although there are people who write explicit romance so amazingly well that I don't mind...)
Although yes. I completely get that. I think that, say, Noldorin or Numenorian society would have been more liberal than the Shire or Beleriand. But more emotional, definitely. [On an unrelated note, the kiss at the end of BBC's Pride and Prejudice mini-series almost ruined the entire thing for me, because it was completely out of character with the period...]