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b2memB2MeM Prompt and Category:Daily prompt 20 March 2018. Noldolante
Format:Vignette
Genre:Humour
Rating:Gen
Warnings:None
Characters:Erestor, Faerwen
Pairings:Erestor/Faerwen
Creator’s Notes:This is part of my Tittlepin universe
Summary:
I don't own anyone, except Faerwen. The other characters, events and setting belong to JRR Tolkien and this is fanfic.
SQUATTERS RIGHTS.
“I am certain it was in this section, somewhere.” Erestor moved the ladder along a few feet and climbed to the level of the top shelf, to rummage there among heaps of dusty scrolls.
Faerwen sneezed, as her husband's actions released a shower of dust upon her head. “When were those last dusted?”
Erestor cast her a rueful glance. “Not recently enough, it seems.”
“Why does Lord Elrond want it, anyway? He, of all of us, should know it by heart.”
Erestor brushed an errant spider off his sleeve before frowning down at his wife. “Why do you say that?”
“Well, wasn't he raised by Maglor for a time?” Faerwen nodded toward Erstor's sleeve, where the spider had reappeared. Erestor flicked it and the lady hopped aside as the hapless creature sailed past her shoulder, to land upon the tiles at her feet. The spider, after taking a moment to gather it's scattered wits, scuttled away to the dark safety of the underside of another bookcase.
“He was. It was Maglor who taught him how to play the harp.”
“I hardly thought it was Gilgalad,” Faerwen offered a little acerbically. She was, after all, unused to having spiders flung at her by anyone, least of all the love of her life.
Erestor was either oblivious to her ire or chose to appear so. “Gilgalad was too busy teaching him to 'play' the sword.” He climbed down and laid the scroll upon a nearby desk. “We had better check that this is the one with the musical annotations.”
Faerwen paused to roll up her sleeves before laying hands upon it. Who knew what residents it may still contain?
Upon the outside, along the length of the scroll, could be discerned the title, “The Noldolantë”. Beneath was the subtitle, “The Fall Of The Noldor. A Lament by Maglor”.
As Erestor released the clasp Faerwen plucked up her courage to help him carefully unroll the ancient document. Once past the first few inches, the interior was clean and crisp. The hand was clearly Elrond's. Faerwen bent to examine the words of the first stanza, wrinkling her nose. “Cheerful,” was her only comment.
“The Sons of Feanor are not much known for their cheerful disposition,” Erestor noted, a little mournfully.
“When Lord Elrond has finished with this I can make a cover for it, before we return it to the care of the local arachnid population,” Faerwen observed as she helped her husband re-roll the ancient document.
Erestor snorted. “I and a few companions will be evicting the arachnid population er long.” He bent to shout beneath the lowest shelf of the bookcase, where the hapless spider had thought to take refuge. “Notice is hereby served!”
If the spider heard him it made no reply. Faerwen decided that if she was to be included in the list of companions tasked with bookshelf cleaning, she would be wearing trews, boots and headscarf . . . just in case the spider and his relatives decided to defend their squatters rights.
END
Format:Vignette
Genre:Humour
Rating:Gen
Warnings:None
Characters:Erestor, Faerwen
Pairings:Erestor/Faerwen
Creator’s Notes:This is part of my Tittlepin universe
Summary:
I don't own anyone, except Faerwen. The other characters, events and setting belong to JRR Tolkien and this is fanfic.
SQUATTERS RIGHTS.
“I am certain it was in this section, somewhere.” Erestor moved the ladder along a few feet and climbed to the level of the top shelf, to rummage there among heaps of dusty scrolls.
Faerwen sneezed, as her husband's actions released a shower of dust upon her head. “When were those last dusted?”
Erestor cast her a rueful glance. “Not recently enough, it seems.”
“Why does Lord Elrond want it, anyway? He, of all of us, should know it by heart.”
Erestor brushed an errant spider off his sleeve before frowning down at his wife. “Why do you say that?”
“Well, wasn't he raised by Maglor for a time?” Faerwen nodded toward Erstor's sleeve, where the spider had reappeared. Erestor flicked it and the lady hopped aside as the hapless creature sailed past her shoulder, to land upon the tiles at her feet. The spider, after taking a moment to gather it's scattered wits, scuttled away to the dark safety of the underside of another bookcase.
“He was. It was Maglor who taught him how to play the harp.”
“I hardly thought it was Gilgalad,” Faerwen offered a little acerbically. She was, after all, unused to having spiders flung at her by anyone, least of all the love of her life.
Erestor was either oblivious to her ire or chose to appear so. “Gilgalad was too busy teaching him to 'play' the sword.” He climbed down and laid the scroll upon a nearby desk. “We had better check that this is the one with the musical annotations.”
Faerwen paused to roll up her sleeves before laying hands upon it. Who knew what residents it may still contain?
Upon the outside, along the length of the scroll, could be discerned the title, “The Noldolantë”. Beneath was the subtitle, “The Fall Of The Noldor. A Lament by Maglor”.
As Erestor released the clasp Faerwen plucked up her courage to help him carefully unroll the ancient document. Once past the first few inches, the interior was clean and crisp. The hand was clearly Elrond's. Faerwen bent to examine the words of the first stanza, wrinkling her nose. “Cheerful,” was her only comment.
“The Sons of Feanor are not much known for their cheerful disposition,” Erestor noted, a little mournfully.
“When Lord Elrond has finished with this I can make a cover for it, before we return it to the care of the local arachnid population,” Faerwen observed as she helped her husband re-roll the ancient document.
Erestor snorted. “I and a few companions will be evicting the arachnid population er long.” He bent to shout beneath the lowest shelf of the bookcase, where the hapless spider had thought to take refuge. “Notice is hereby served!”
If the spider heard him it made no reply. Faerwen decided that if she was to be included in the list of companions tasked with bookshelf cleaning, she would be wearing trews, boots and headscarf . . . just in case the spider and his relatives decided to defend their squatters rights.
END
no subject
Date: 2018-03-21 12:18 am (UTC)You got me there, the gigglesnort appeared ^^
no subject
Date: 2018-03-21 10:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-04-01 04:24 am (UTC)Except from the spiders' point of view, I suppose, as it looks as if they might soon be composing a lament of their own.
no subject
Date: 2018-04-01 12:56 pm (UTC)