#by my troth a good fic

[terrainofheartfelt]

Hope you're doing well! Can I be recommended some unpopular but well written Dair fanfictions?

Hi love!

I don't know from unpopular, but I'll shoutout some fics that I think tend to be less acclaimed, but are very deserving!

first, I must throw a shoutout to a couple wips: like a rolling stone by my ride-or-die @strideofpride & Set It Up by my ride-or-die @blairwaldcrf both fantastic aus that are rife with beautiful dairtastic moments.

Escape -- a 5x14 au where they do go to the DR. lots of pining.

you're the song that I can't stop singing -- another S masterwork. will always rec. if any fic could fix s6, it's this one

Lemons, Limes, and Tomatoes --- entirely charming character study

this city screams your name --- a Hollywood au. or a film actor au. it's so cute and it's never really left me since I read it.

my heart of dust would still rejoice --- LITERALLY a roman holiday au!!! it's so good!!! by the brilliant mind that gave us the definitive ues/brooklyn roleswap au!

The Disaster Within --- same author as above, an AU of A Room with a View! it's so good, and I say with conviction that my LW and P&P aus would not exist without it.

A Waltz for a Night --- on this, the Before Sunrise website, i have to give a shoutout to this gorgeous Before Sunrise AU

[marshmellin]

Shortcuts to Sass: The Director's Cut

Quick links to main creative content below. Most are currently Lord of the Rings/ROP/Silm-focused, but I love many fandoms and you can view some of my prior works on AO3. In addition to fic, I am expanding into textual analysis.

-> On the Main Stage:

COMPLETE -> ✨ Star and Stone, or the Fall of King Gil-galad ✨

Most stories right now are TROP/LOTR focused. Focus on Gil-galad, Elrond and Thranduil — Elven leaders who handle that stress in very different ways. Please mind the tags on each story/chapter, particularly those rated as explicit for a dash of always-consensual 🔥 smut 🔥. Those fics are toward the bottom of the list.

Follow #star and stone for all my LOTR work. #oh and by my two faiths and troths *I* have said *mine* for stuff I post that sometimes people like. Both tags linked below!

@mytwofaithsandtroths is my untagged, multi-fandom blog

✨ Star and Stone or, The Fall of King Gil-galad

Elaniel, a stonemason fleeing the fall of Eregion, makes her way to Lindon. When she meets Gil-galad, something unexpected occurs. Amid the chaos of preparing for a war against Sauron, their growing love is tested by the weight of duty: his to lead armies into peril, hers to rebuild what darkness has destroyed. The pull of two fëa is strong for the Eldar. But is duty stronger?

-> COMPLETE! F FOR FIX IT: Explicit for rare smut (🔥) between consenting partners. All other content is Mature for language and canon-typical descriptions of angst/violence. Gil-galad x female OC Sindarin elf, Occurs between the Fall of Ost-in-Edhel in Eregion and the Battle of the Last Alliance. Contains references to other Tolkien lore and the Silmarillion with author notes for full explanations.

Repeat: Happily Ever After; everything is beautiful and nothing hurts. I try to be as canon-compliant as possible except for the whole 'keeping Gil-galad alive part.' No beta, we die like Mirdania.

✨ Star and Stone: Complete Chapter List

Ch. 1 of 12: Between the Mountains and the Sea

Ch. 2: Mirrored

Ch. 3: Fair and Free

Ch. 4: Countless Stars

Ch. 5: Silver Shield

Ch. 6: Preparations

Ch. 7: Where the Shadows Are 🔥 [Explicit scene]

Ch. 8: Long Ago He Rode Away

Ch. 9: Wherever the Need is Greatest

Ch. 10: Where He Dwelleth, None Can Say

Ch. 11: Of Whom the Harpers Sing 🔥 [Explicit scene]

Ch. 12: Last High King of the Elves of the West

//

📜 It's called tension because you're not supposed to break it.

Rated A for Accidentally Walks In. 2.1K words, Elrond x unnamed/undescribed elven woman, 2nd person POV, no use of y/n

Getting together/first time with fade to black. Elrond ends up in your rooms accidentally and is flustered. Consent is clear from both sides, and it fades to black. That's it, that's the post.

Mature for very brief mentions of female self-pleasure (not described) and because the tension in the title is sexual.

No beta we die like every damn good thing that has ever happened in this ellon's life i stg. whatever day you're having, Elrond's is worse

You would accept any choice he made. But if he was choosing then you needed him to, well, choose.  Staying naked, huddled under a blanket, while Elrond broke his hand from clenching and unclenching it too much, was no way to spend a life.

Read it here!

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🍁 What’s the Elvish Word for “Fine”?

Rated I for (angry) Idiots in Love: 5.8K words, Thranduil x unnamed/undescribed mortal woman, 2nd person POV, no use of y/n Mature for language only, "arranged marriage" in a political sense with consent between willing adults, they’re big mad, but is it anger or just being too stupid?

No beta, we die like Thranduil's first wife who is not mentioned

You rounded the corner and stopped suddenly. Thranduil was sitting on Carasta’s desk. Sitting was the wrong term. Lounging.  “Hello, wife.”  He was in dark, silvery robes without his crown, his long legs propped up against a chair. With a far-too-broad smile on his face.  Something stupid was happening. 

Read it here!

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🤓 Regarding the Eldar and Sexy Sex | Textual Analysis of the Laws and Customs Among the Eldar within Tolkien's Lore

A.K.A Let the elves be horny. Textually, there is no reason they can't if we're creative.

Notes: Tone varies between scholastic and sarcastic and back again. Rated mature for use of language only. Sexual activities not described.

The concept I am analyzing: An unfinished Tolkien work, an in-universe essay, Laws and Customs Among the Eldar, describes the elven view of marriage vows which cannot be broken. In sum: Some have interpreted this text as saying that Elves can not/will not have sexual activity (“bodily union”) outside marriage.

The concept I have landed on: “Bodily union,” as described in this unpublished text can be interpreted as an intentional act that elven couples choose to perform. The term is not a catch-all for any or all types of sexual contact. In sum: From my close reading of the text, I interpret that Elves can and could engage in a variety of sexual activities without creating marriage vows if they wished to do so.

Read it here!

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🔥 Simple Release

Explicit content under the cut. Rated S for Smut, 1.6K words, Gil-galad x unnamed/undescribed mortal woman, 3rd person POV, brothel/"healing house" so anonymous sex I guess? My goal at LaCE compliant fuckery sexuality. No beta, we die like Bronwyn.

A.K.A Skirting the Laws and Customs of the Eldar for shameless smut with High King Ereinion Gil-galad, who deserves to just. get. laid.

I can not provide a summary of the plot because there isn't any plot.

Explicit Content; Please mind the tags: Read it here!

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🔥 He Always Gives You One (1) ☝️

Explicit content under the cut. Rated S for Smut, 6.3K words, Gil-galad x unnamed/undescribed woman, 2nd person POV, no use of y/n or female's name, bratting and spanking, consent is always explicit in this home. (No beta, we die like Valendil. Valar forgive me for that last tag. It turns out I was the brat all along.)

“Are you unable to come up with ideas on your own, High King? Do you not have a plan? You have had me dressed and dragged to your quarters hours before a ridiculous, boring formal dinner party and you do not yet know what you wish to do with me during that time?”

Oh, that one was risky, but you let it linger.

Explicit Content; Please mind the tags: Read it here!

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UPCOMING PLANNED WORKS

-> Gil-galad, Son of No One -> The Trials and Tribulations of High King Gil-galad (thanks for the name idea, Ben) -> An Analysis of Characterization and Vocal Emphasis from Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing: Comparing the 2012 Globe production with Charles Edwards and Eve Best to the 2011 Wyndham's production with David Tennant and Catherine Tate

[ctimenefic]

may i, by any chance, bribe you into some triple crown talks on this fine evening? <3 i hope you have a lovely day!

oh, Triple Crown Anon, we're really in it now

I want to give you a name, TCA, and then I want to put that name in the fic because you have been so kind to remember this project and so generous in not mentioning that time I promised it'd be done by Christmas.

I tend to hit a wall somewhere around 18k on most longer fics I attempt. Triple Crown is at 19k and I am struggling to get going on it. It's not that I don't have the plot - I do! I have the plot for the sequel, almost. But for whatever reason, crossing that 20k line is proving very hard, and there's quite a lot left to go.

However, nothing is quite as motivating as when you pop up in my inbox, TCA. I'll do some work on it this week, I swear.

Have the first scene in full (if, alas, not fully edited):

George's letter said he would be with them at noon. By quarter past eleven Alex is tired of Zoe giggling at his fidgeting and he makes a break for the stables, saddles up Prema. The ride to the end of the drive clears the tightness in his chest, and it's an easy choice to take the lanes towards Newmarket, where George will have to swap from the stage to a hired coach. 

It's not ten minutes before he hears the rattle of wheels and hooves on the dirt, and a moment later they swing round the corner into view; the smart two seater from the Old King’s Inn, a handsome bay trotting obediently, and on the seat beside the driver-

"George!" Alex calls, waving his hat as he stands in the stirrups, and perhaps he should be embarrassed at acting the schoolboy, but even at a hundred paces he can see the grin that spreads across George’s face, matching his own. 

“Albono!” comes the reply, George’s Italian accent as exaggerated as ever to Alex’s ear. 

He brings Prema round in a wide circle to fall into step beside the gig, and then he’s face to face with George, and two years of separation fall away in an instant.

That’s not to say there’s been no change in George. He’s tanned nut brown; his curls, uncropped, spill out from under the brim of his hat; and his coat, cut to what must be the latest London fashion, hugs broader shoulders than Alex remembers. But the same eyes are glinting with mirth, and his voice is still rich with muddy East Anglian vowels. 

“You didn’t say you were riding out to meet me! Were you worried I’d forgotten the way?”

“Well, you somehow spent three months longer than expected in Vienna, heavens knows how long you could have whiled away in Newmarket without some prompting,” Alex responds, careful to keep his tone teasing.

“God’s own turf, tis true,” George vows, hand to his heart. “But I’d hope after twenty years of faithful devotion, it won’t begrudge me three months.” He drags his bottom lip between his teeth, swipes it with the very tip of his tongue, a nervous gesture so familiar Alex must have seen it a thousand times. 

“I’m sure Newmarket will forgive you everything if you promise to lose another fortune at Craven’s meet,” he teases, grin widening at the way George’s flush rises through his tan. He has to race on to avoid the old riposte to that particular jab. “I wasn’t riding out to meet you, as it happens. Prema’s been penned up since foaling, she needed a run to stretch her legs.”

It’s a lie, of course, but suddenly the idea he couldn’t have waited another half an hour after so long seems profoundly embarrassing.

“Is she one of your racers?” Bless him, for all George can pledge his troth to Newmarket, it’s a miracle he knows one end of a horse from another. As if Alex would have a racehorse in foal so close to the season. On George’s other side, he sees the gig driver’s cheek twitch before he settles back into deaf stoicism. 

“Used to be, half a dozen years back.” Not a winner of any note, but capable of a fine run in the right conditions. 

“Good, you’ll need a fast ride.”

“Why?”

George leans across the foot of space that separates them, grin impossibly wide. “Because your mother will have your head if you’re not there to receive me as man of the household, and we just passed the mile marker.”

The cad’s laugh chases him down the lane. A gallop barely gets him to the stables before the gig is through the gates; there’s certainly no time to change. He has to settle for slinging his jacket over his arm in a bid to cool down and stop the sweat springing around the line of his cravat. Even so, when he turns the corner from the stables to the front of the house, George is already delivering a neat bow to his mother and sisters, arranged like dolls on the steps to the door. 

At the sight of him every trace of the gracious hostess drops from Lady Albon’s face. “Alexander!”

“Mama,” he offers, trying to ignore how George’s mouth has twisted to keep from laughing. 

If anything her glare gets sharper. “You will offer your apologies to our guest.”

Still on the steps, Bitbit has broken, laughing helplessly into her wrist.

‘Oh, for pity’s sake, Mama, it’s George!” But in a battle of wills against his mother, Alex has no hope. He heaves a sigh and offers George an obsequious bow. “Mr Russell, please excuse my poor manners. I can only attribute it to the absence of better influences in my formative years.” 

It’s worth the smack to the back of the head to watch George snort. 

“It is wonderful to have you with us again, Mr Russell. I hope once you have fully rested from your travels, we may see you here again in time for the racing? Then you shall have to stay a month at least, instead of a single night. So much travel, but then you young men have a great deal more energy-”

Alex expects George to panic as his mama captures his arm with the firm grip of a society diamond and propels him into the house. That's how it's always been with George, too conscious that he comes from Norwich trade, and not whatever line of Crusading knights ended up plonking the Albon name on this small patch of Suffolk. 

But there’s no forced grin, no darting glance his way. Instead, George is the perfect, confident gentleman, nodding graciously, humming a note of agreement. Alex feels wrongfooted, watching them go, arm in arm.

"Don't worry, Lex, she'll have to let him go eventually, you'll have plenty of time to run off and play at highwaymen." Alicia takes his arm with a knowing smile and Zoe pens him in on the other side. "But first: has he brought presents?"

“You'd have to ask hi-” And they're off, all pretence of genteel manners forgotten as they scamper towards the drawing room. Alex hasn't the heart to point out all of George's luggage is still in the gig. 

Once he follows, he finds George practically pinned to the mantelpiece by all the eyes on him.

“You have to tell us all about Rome, Mr Russell-”

“But Venice first. Lord Byron was in Venice. Did you see him? Is he truly mad? Is he as handsome as they say? He doesn’t look handsome in the latest editions, but Alicia thought perhaps the engraver held a grudge-”

“What about Vienna? The court there is the height of elegance, I heard. Are they recovered from the wars? We were so anxious that you were on the Continent when Napoleon took the field again, Zoe was sure you would be killed-”

“I was not, Mr Russell, I had every confidence in you-

“Even though Alex assured us you were in Rome by then, it is not so far from France as we would have liked. And it was cruel of you to write only to Alex when we were all of us so concerned.”

It’s news to Alex that his sisters were quite as worried as that - he remembers Alicia and Zoe spending most of Spring 1815 mutinous about the sudden departure of every dashing officer in the south of England. Bitbit and Luca had, at least, listened when Alex read George’s well wishes to the family at the breakfast table. 

Still, he’s not going to contradict them when George is flushing with pleased bashfulness at the attention. “I was perfectly safe, I assure you. I can only apologise for not writing more, but I included my good wishes for each of you in every letter to your brother.”

“And I was a faithful messenger, I promise. Come on, at least let the man have luncheon before you interrogate him on every detail of the last two years.” 

His mama starts, as though the meal she’s been thinking about for two days straight (“Alex, do you think young George might have lost his appetite for sweetpeas on the Continent? They have such strange habits there”) had slipped her mind. 

She bustles them through to the dining room in short order, and for all she might have started calling him ‘Mr Russell’, like one of Zoe’s hapless suitors, it’s clear Alex’s mama still remembers little Georgie. Lunch is a spread of all his favourites, and Alex catches the way George’s polite smile softens as he realises, colour creeping up from under his collar. When he meets Alex’s eyes across the table, there’s the faintest sheen to them. 

Alex has to hide his fond smile back in his wineglass.

[inchidentally]

Crown Prince Lando AU idea based entirely on his appearance today in Italy for his trophy and Lawrence writing about how every team is courting Lando

okay so I wrote this rly fast on the work laptop and you have to just ignore the weird interpretations of how royalty and inheritance etc works. and completely fucking with how things went down in F1 history. it's an absolute mess and possibly unreadable but I literally couldn't stop myself.

if you're a fic author then pleaaaaase have a look and see if you can take this and actually make anything out of it even if it needs a lot of changes.

Crown Prince Lando has been fought over by nations since he was seventeen years old. His parents had retired from royal duties to live quietly in the countryside but a series of deaths and lack of heirs resulted in Lando living most of his life being prepared for ascension to the throne. His parents did as good a job as they could to keep Lando humble and "normal" while having to live a kind of sequestered monastic existence.

As he grew so did his future subjects' love and adoration of him. They loved his humor and his cheeky treatment of the solemn institution surrounding him. As he grew into being a beauty the country took endless pride in him and watched his exploits as a touring royal closely.

Fernando Alonso was the first to pledge his troth to Prince Lando because he could see the promise in Lando of one day becoming a truly beloved ruler - a quality he himself had found wanting in his own slow gathering of power. However he was persuaded early on by his advisers and Lando's parents to withdraw due to his 'already advanced age'. Lando's debut at court was postponed by his parents to prevent any other establishment attempting to lay their claim before Lando felt comfortable and ready.

The powerful Sainz Vázquez de Castro family swooped in next and arranged a series of public meetings between Prince Lando and their wicked (meaning "experienced") and devastatingly handsome son Carlos Jr. His charisma and dark eyes charmed Prince Lando immediately and a wedding date was set for the following year. Lando's debut at court was hastily arranged to happen mere days prior. Probably should insert something here about Lando being made to live this period of life in a guarded tower and attendants being present whenever he was with Carlos because chastity being required for marriage. And the only way to keep Carlos' dick out of Lando was the threat of a priest's guard cutting it off. But lbr they manage to sneak around well enough to do everything else.

Unfortunately the royal courts of Europe were shaken by a quick series of upsets: Sovereign Prince Lorenzo of Monaco abdicated the throne in search of a quieter life - his heart had never been in it since his father, the former sovereign, had become ill and abdicated. This left Lorenzo's unwed brother Charles to be hastily crowned Prince Regent at the tender age of 22 (and unable to become sovereign himself due to being a second son, again my weird rules). As a result Charles suffered the loss of his long-time suitor, nobleman Sebastian Vettel, who couldn't bear the thought of being sovereign let alone of a land that wasn't even his own.

Enter the Sainz Vázquez de Castro elders siezing the opportunity and negotiating a deal with Monaco in private conclave with the Papal State (??) to wed their son Carlos to the Prince Regent. Carlos is ashamed at giving in to the temptation… to not just be King Consort but to be Sovereign Prince, to rule over the vast wealth of Monaco and by extension the Holy See, to have the coveted beauty Charles in his bed. So he agrees to be spirited away to Monaco and the ugly business of dissolving his betrothal to Lando is left to members of church and state.

But Carlos experiences a complete conversion when Charles is on his knees in the cathedral - looking up at him with docile green eyes as Carlos' fingertips touch the warm red roses of Charles' lips as he holds the chalice of holy wine for Charles to drink. Carlos was almost hard beneath the ermine and velvet robes in a house of God when the crown was on his head and Charles next to him - and slightly below - smiling up at him with filaments of gold hanging from pendants on his chaplet, framing his achingly beautiful face. If Carlos feels his immense happiness and prosperity darken whenever he sees Lando's picture or encounters him at one of the courts then no one need know.

Prince Lando is of course too heartbroken to consider other suitors and his court is demoralized by their own failure to seal his future. Only brash American tycoon Zak Brown keeps the faith that Lando's appeal as he grows will land him a better match than any Euro old money looking to aggrandize themselves and take advantage of Lando's youth to displace his rightful future as King.

A stroke of genius is the arrival of commoner Daniel Ricciardo whose rise up the ranks of society has hit more than a few speedbumps over the years. He's in the perfect position to act as placeholder and a sort of 'playmate' for the young Prince Regent. Daniel does the job of squiring Lando around and cheering him up beautifully. So beautifully that Daniel begins to see in his charge's wide eyes a future that he had only ever let himself dream of before. He begins to publicly push the boundaries of propriety with Lando like holding hands, embracing him from behind, dancing scandalously close together. The dam begins to break when Daniel opens a public social media account and begins posting adoring and fairly intimate videos of Lando that prove to be a massive hit with the public… and that fan rumours of the Crown Prince breaking with tradition and marrying a commoner.

Exeunt Daniel Ricciardo.

(Yes I know this isn't remotely his role but go with it) Newly appointed Lord Chancellor Andrea Stella proposes that only a candidate the same age as Lando - or ideally younger - should be considered to ensure that his claim to the throne be safeguarded. Because Lando hasn't spent the intervening years doing nothing but swooning over a succession of suitors, he's perfected his role and learned his court and won over the hearts of his people. He's effected harmonious relations with rival kingdoms seemingly effortlessly. The royal coffers have never been so full and trade is booming. Lando and his court all know that Lando could easily rule alone. But the fire that the now King of Monaco had lit inside him refused to go out. It begged to be fueled and to burn brighter.

Then one day Andrea hears a murmur of controversy happening in the middling levels of the aristocracy. The scoundrel Alonso had construed a match between one Oscar Piastri and Frenchman Esteban Ocon as a means of effecting his (Alonso's) escape and aggrandizing the Alpine dynasty. There were further details about a drama between Ocon and countryman Pierre Gasley but all that interested Andrea was that young Piastri had ordered a direct pronouncement be made against the match and any further association with Alpine. He had already rejected the opportunity of being presented at court and clearly had plans for his own future that would not depend on the protection or condescension of any other power but his own.

Imagine Andrea's surprise when Zak Brown announces at the next privy council meeting that preliminary arrangements had been made with young Piastri to be the Crown Prince's companion for the following season. A pretense at Piastri having an interest in royal politics was to be given to everyone, including Piastri himself. But Andrea and Zak shared a knowing look across the mote-stained light straining through the high windows of the old chamber. The Crown Prince barely even hears the details as he wearily signs off on the public notice along with the other endless papers at his elbow. He doesn't even dream that a wildcard is being played for his future happiness.

The eldest son of the prominent and noble Piastri family from Tuscany is suitably beautiful with the characteristic straight brow, fine pale features and soulful deep amber eyes of his people. He is tall and still growing with an effortless regal bearing despite his youth. The first few meetings between him and the Crown Prince are cordial and with a promising warmth. Andrea is encouraged by the pink that rises high on Piastri's pale cheeks whenever he shares smiles with Lando but he's even more encouraged by the steady intensity of his gaze when Lando isn't looking.

For the first few months, Piastri remains a faithful but distant part of Lando's royal retinue. They interact often enough and clearly like each other. But it also comes at a time of unrest in Lando's kingdom as a result of the ascension of an ambitious and possibly ruthless young King in the Netherlands. Lando proposes a visit to Castle Toro Rosso and asks Piastri to accompany them due to the Italian affiliation with the Dutch royal house. Something about Piastri's calm and quiet confidence helps stabilize Lando and he needs all the support he can get.

The visit is strained and the Dutch court is intimidating - and rather grating - in it's brash opulence and show of dominance. The young King is more of a mystery, seeming cold and aloof but flashing a wry smile at Lando's well-known charm and humor. The tide turns entirely in Lando's favor at the tourney. Lando has been barred from jousting following his formal presentation as crown prince due to some finicky archaic British law and it eats away at it him to have to sit and watch while the Dutch King was allowed to ride for himself. More than once Lando moodily pushes at the circlet that keeps slipping over his curls and can feel himself being increasingly bratty and short with his attendants.

Piastri was already reknowned for his prowess in jousting and was automatically given the seat to represent the Crown Prince. When he appeared mounted on a blood bay charger that gleamed almost golden and black in the hot sun (MCL colors kinda??) Lando has A Moment when Piastri tips his visor open and addresses him formally and those intense brown eyes behind the cold armor make him look so much older. Lando causes a stir when he descends from his seat and gives Piastri his favor in the form of a ribbon from one of his full sleeves. They have one of Those Looks between each other before Piastri turns to take his place. He bests every one of his opponents and isn't unseated once.

Then the Dutch King Max Emilian appears and strangely shuns any pageantry associated with a knight's entry, let alone a king's. His Lady sits in his place flanked by both her own and the King's powerful families and court. Lando finds himself suddenly flooded with fear because what would happen if Oscar lost? What would happen if Oscar won? When had he become 'Oscah' and not just Piastri?

The collision unseats both King Max Emilian and Oscar and they draw swords. The fight is precise and clinical and breathtaking. Perhaps it was because of having more to lose or perhaps it was the press of the Crown Prince's lips against the silk ribbon he gave as tribute but Oscar suddenly anticipates a step too far ahead for the young King and a unified gasp is heard when Max Emilian's body hits the dirt. It's instinct that has Oscar's sword held at the King's throat. But when Max Emilian throws his visor back his bloodied mouth is stretched in a wide toothy grin. He barks out a series of high cackles and ceremonially begs mercy. Oscar breathes out in a rush and claps his armored hand around the King's and helps him to his feet. Max Emilian flicks Oscar's visor open for him and lifts his hand declaring Oscar's well-earned victory. Lando forgets himself and leaps up yelling and cheering as his court smiles ruefully over at the stiff, formal "celebrations" coming from the stands opposite.

Holy god I've written way more than I meant to but let's have it finish off with Lando whispering to gain access to the tent where Oscar is undressing and cleaning his wounds. Perhaps his armor has been removed down to the hips the way driver's drop their race suits down after a race. Oscar startles when he sees Lando alone with him and rushes to kneel to him. Maybe Lando puts his hand under Oscar's chin and tells him to rise up and oh maybe seeing Oscar sweaty and dirtied with a cut to one cheek and a few bruises on his body makes him forget himself. Maybe he surges up and kisses Oscar and maybe Oscar is shocked but also feels exactly the same way and kisses him right back. Then probably Oscar decides to make his boldest move yet and says that if Lando doesn't want him then he'll quietly go away - but if Lando does want him then Oscar would welcome the title King Consort, would be proud of it in fact to be in service a king like Lando one day.

Then Lando either passes out because he's been in blue ball hell since Carlos and years worth of arousal hit him all at once or maybe he just whimpers a little and starts wondering how fast a royal wedding can get planned so he can Get That Dick ASAP.

Fin.

[popcornforone]

Treacherous Rewards

Day Ten of the Seasons of Life Drabbles Challenge

A Silva Fic

MASTERLIST

Today’s prompt was Footpath. Took me a while to work out what to do with this one, but I’m happy with it. Silva is always interesting to write.

Synopsis:- Silva arrives at your outpost.

Word Count:- 430

All Silva fics are gender neutral. There some insuation as to what might happen next but we don’t get that far. Dangers of the footpath.

Thanks @fanfictionoverload @berryispunk @lady-bess as always, these are so fun to do. Hope you are all loving it.

A very small footpath connects the two small towns. Enough to get a horse through. It’s treacherous in the winter, it becomes sodden. In the summer it’s too hot to treck at all. You need so much water to get through it & survive. The autumn the winds blow straight across it. Gusty & unforgiving. But in Spring, the ground is flat & not uneven, it’s not too cold & the winds are gentle.

Only one man is brave enough to follow this footpath all year round & that is Silva. What started off as a life or death situation about 4 years ago he now does as a party trick. His horses aren’t big fans of it. Often needing long drinks, wondering how & why he puts them through these changing conditions. But they are always happy to arrive at your outpost on the edge of town. They know they are now in good hands & Silva is always so proud of them.

“Good girl” he says on this spring morning as the horse eats its hay. You look on in wonder watching him rub the horses nose. Almost like he is in love with it. He probably is. He does trust the horse with his life on that dangerous footpath. You sigh & stare. You’ve never seen a man so at peace, so calm & so ready for the next stage of his journey. Wherever he goes now will be much easier than what he’s just covered. You stand there with a bucket to fill the troth, you do this for every rider when they arrive in town, friend or foe to the village. That way the deputy can inform the sheriff what is coming. They receive a nice friendly face no matter what. But Silvas is always the most handsome. The one you know will compliment you.

The horse laps up the water you poured & Silva uses a cloth to cool his neck down. He smirks, his moustache twitching as he smiles, you’ve forgotten you’re staring at the handsome man.

“Like what you see?” he asks before then leaning on a fence. The buckle on his belt also beaming like his smile.

“Always” you say & step towards him keeping eye contact. “I’m always just happy you make it along the footpath so I get these 5 stolen minutes with you, before you go about your business”

“What if you are my business?” He says raising an eyebrow. You turn bright red.

“Then maybe we should get down to it” you joke.

“Maybe we should” he says with a devilish smile.

[the-au-collector]

I've got to ask, what is the unusual/unique (in a good way) au you've come across (or cooked up yourself)?

Thanks for the ask!

I realize now you asked for one fic but uh--I kinda compiled a list of some of my favorite AUs instead. I've read a lot of fics, but to save your sanity I'll stick with my 3 main fandoms: Linked Universe, Kingdom Hearts, and Tales of the Abyss. I'll tag authors where I can, but some I just couldn't find anywhere 😭

This definitely isn't all of them but if I tried to compile every single AU I've loved, we'll be here all day.

Kingdom Hearts:

Familiars by @kutikue @letoasai- all the characters are witches and/or familiars. I've just started reading it but it seems good so far! Definitely one of a kind!

Runaway Wind by Pred1059 - Ven wakes up early. It gets very off the rails very quickly.

Vulpes to Dandelions by YumeTakato (deviantart profile)- An Ava is Sora's Mom AU as well as a Master of Master's Arc speculation series. This one also goes into alternate universes and other things that make it unique.

Linked Universe:

Links Assemble by @vicmillen (Victor_Millen on AO3)- Marvel fusion AU featuring Warriors as Captain America. It's in-the-works so seriously, go over to Vic's blog and check it out!

Townhouse AU by st0rmy - a really fun AU where all the Links end up living in the same townhouse together. Chaos ensues. Time is tired.

Tales of Courage from Across the Galaxy by @wizard-finix (CubanCracker62 on AO3) - Star Wars fusion. I'm currently reading it, but it's good so far! There's also some art for it too!

Linked Nexus AU by @zarvasace- Space AU. I've just started reading it but I can't wait to see where it goes.

Wing Bois AU by @breannasfluff - probbaly one of the most unique AUs in the fandom. The Links have wings and bird traits. It's also very fluffy!

Hero's Aspect AU by @tashacee - Wild gets stuck in the Hero's Aspect outfit. I'm currently trying to catch up on all 45 parts, but it's definitely one of the biggest AUs for Linked Universe.

Opera House AU by @bokettochild (FlamingIdiot on AO3) - modern AU but all the Links work in an opera house. It a very different and interesting setting for a modern AU. I also can't reccomend Ketto's fics enough to be honest.

Fierce Hero 9 by @crazylittlejester (Can_Opener on AO3)- Big Hero 6 but it's Linked Universe. It loosely follows the plot of the movie, but there are some huge, interesting differences between this and the movie.

Tales of the Abyss:

Bladework by @starcrossed-sky - probably the best "Asch joins the group" series out there. Lots of political intrigue. The characters are so well-written and the 2nd person POV is so unique! Definitely made me obsessed with 2nd person POV lol. Follows the plot of the game initially

Reflections by @darkangelmya - an AU where Asch decides to return to the manor instead of running away with Van. Asch is an overprotective brother and it's awesome! Also follows the plot of the game, probably the most religiously of all my other fic recs for this game

Troth by @daily-rayless (Rayless_Night on AO3) - A post-game Asch comes back too AU focused on Asch and Natalia's relationship. Very beautiful, Rayless is an amazing author!

As for stuff I've written... I have to say the more unique ones boil down to [obscure media I read when I was 13] fused with either Linked Universe or Kingdom Hearts 😅 So like, my Lockwood and Co Fusion or the Stravaganza fusion I'm thinking of making lol. I also have a lot of unfinished Kingdom Hearts fics from years ago, like a "Eraqus gets brought back to life but he's 16 again and has amnesia" fic and a "Brain ends up in the time of Days and changes things" fic.

As for serious fics... I can't not plug my passion projects, the Reconnect the Chain AU and Relinked AU. They're both Linked Universe fics where the Links reunite (though I'm planning Relinked to be a comic). They're AUs of each other, with Reconnect the Chain being an AU that boils down to "what if Relinked happend 10 years earlier minus all the kidnapping?" (AKA, it's my fluff outlet lol).

I yet again managed to write an essay but uh--enjoy the fic recs!

[iztarshi]

Ooh I gotta know about the rottmnt jägers au!

Verbatim from my notes:

the Rise boys as a group of detached Jägers because they have the energy for supersoldiers prone to shenanigans

Raph - doing this for honour, the troth and to protect the Jägers that remain with Klaus. Very determined to do a good job and also keep the group safe.

Leo - has zero hope of finding a Heterodyne, went because he'd rather stay with the others than the pack. Drives Raph up the wall because he'll shy away from cities where Raph thinks there's a real lead as "too dangerous" but drag everyone into trouble over a nice hat. Is mostly trying to keep everyone distracted from their fate, especially himself

Donnie - would have broken through if he hadn't taken the draught. The necessity of surviving with just four is pushing his latent Spark to the forefront again. He can even manage a little Jäger medical care and he's guiltily enjoying how important it makes him.

Mikey - has hope, but mostly trusts that if they're fated to find a Heterodyne they will, I think. The hardest for me to pin down the character of.

…even Raph is distractible, though. He's both Raph and a Jäger.

Black Heterodyne made Donnie, Red Heterdodyne made Leo.

*

I did post a fic from this universe last year, but not the one I'd originally intended to write.

The one I meant to write was one where they meet April, random townperson from near enough Mechanicsburg that she's heard of "riding with the Jägers" and decides to give it a try a generation late. They're detached and the time and it also would have been quite Donnie centric, since his latent Spark is definitely becoming less latent the more he leans on it.

[waldorph]

Fic Writers Q&A

I was tagged by @rcmclachlan! Thank you!!

How many wips do you have currently?

Three. I think. One that's an official WIP on ao3, two other that I'm fucking around with privately.

Which one are you finding the hardest to finish? Why do you think that is?

I think I need to uhhhh rewrite bits of Troth. The problem with restarting a WIP after a decade is that your thought process is not exactly cohesive.

What does it usually look like when inspiration strikes for you?

I sit down and I write. I just sort of sigh and haul open my laptop and start writing.

Do you curate playlists for each fic or is your process different?

There's usually a ~vibe that goes with each fic, and sometimes I have an existing playlist for it and sometimes I need to create one, but it's that delicate balance of match the vibe but don't overpower.

Do you go balls to the wall and write as you go or are you more organised?

Hahahahahahaha I am...a mess. I am REALLY good at concepts and beginnings, but middles are elusive. All of my friends have heard me at one point or another wail BUT WHAT IS THE PLOT IT CANNOT BE JUST VIBES to which I get varying levels of OF COURSE IT CAN BE and then I sulk and that's how we get wips. The problem is I get bored if I write to an outline. It takes all the fun out of the thing. I usually rewrite huge chunks of every story I've ever written before posting, so that's also you know. Part of the process.

[zmediaoutlet]

Hello, hope you are doing well!

I know you get discouraged because this is a dying fandom I guess but just know that your samdean fics are my comfort pieces of art that I turn to from time to time. They are just so so so good. I read your recent one - troth and as usual it broke my heart but also smh fixed it? That seems to be the theme with most of your fics re: my emotional journey.

I just need you to know as long as writers like you keep loving samdean and their love for each other, writing them in a way that feels true and non sketchy and not at all far fetched, just a incestous extension of canon (lol) I truly believe, we are in good hands! :)

-says girl after rereading the archivist and that post 12*05 raped sam fic again where Dean tries to 'spare his feelings' and crying again

that's super, super kind of you, bud. <3 Thanks for letting me know you go back to the things sometimes -- a rare happy thing is just what I needed today.

[rosethornewrites]

T & G reading since 2/8

Finished

Teen:

Encounter in Qinhe, by Ilona22 (3rd in a series, locked)

At the beginning of the war, Qinhe is retaken. Shortly after, the remnants of the Jiang arrive.

Poison, by snowberryrose

In which only Wen Qing survives the Heavenly Godess attack

Renovation, by WithBroomBefore (5th in a series)

The house itself is described by the realtor as “needing a little work.”

Contrapuntal, by WithBroomBefore (13 chapters)

In which Wei Wuxian is cast back in time to the school at Cloud Recesses instead of falling to his death. Everyone is very confused and upset. Wen Qing fixes things.

General:

If We, by StoriesOnlyScarsCanTell (2 chapters, locked)

You know, for such a simple question, that is something in which I have so many ways to respond to.

But I will only say one thing to you.

I am loved.

Wei Ying received letters from his future self.

common people, by harborshore

Wei Wuxian keeps expecting Lan Zhan to go home.

in the lull before paradise, by stiltonbasket (47th in a series)

“A-Zhan, married after all this time!” he chuckles to himself, quivering a little at the sweetness of it all. “I can scarcely believe it.”

“Neither can I,” Wangji says sleepily, propping himself up on his elbow. “Xiongzhang, aren’t you tired yet?”

“No, not really. I’ve been trying to sleep, but I can’t.”

Wangji puts a hand on his brow. “Are you ill?”

“Not in the slightest, didi. I was only thinking about tomorrow.”

Or: on the last night before his wedding, Lan Wangji sleeps in the Hanshi with his brother.

No, Wei Wuxian, You Cannot Divorce A Man You Haven't Married Yet!, by stiltonbasket (8 chapters)

"Have you heard? The second young mistress of Yunmeng Jiang broke her troth with Hanguang-jun and ran off to the Burial Mounds with Wen Qionglin!"

"Ah, poor Lan-er-gongzi. Breaking her sister's engagement wasn't enough for Wei-guniang, she had to betray her own intended!"

In which Wei Wuxian ditches the cultivation world, Lan Wangji goes grocery shopping, Lan Sizhui narrates his parents' love story, and Nie Huaisang is the only one who knows what's really going on. Prompt fic!

All in All, Life is Good, by BurningBlueDiamond (7th in a series)

The conclusion of the series: what happens in the new timeline?

Unfinished

Teen:

Music Heals All Forms Of Misery, by idontknowwhatimdoinghalfthetime

Two years after the downfall of Jin Guangyao, two individuals are sick and tired of seeing the cultivation world hurt Wei Wuxian even after being cleared of his crimes. So they decide to show the world the truth from all sides. The beautiful and the ugly. Whether or not they are forgiven by the demonic cultivator, in the end, is to be seen. But they know this needs to happen for him to heal.

Maybe it'll be easier to digest if it happens... through song? (*ﾟᗜ˚) (－‸ლ)

catch and release (and catch again), by Gaez (bell_flowers) (locked)

Before he can even puzzle out what’s happened he’s falling. Falling but still holding Lan Zhan’s hand. Still holding Lan Zhan’s hand because Sandu has severed Lan Zhan’s wrist.

(Lan Zhan was not supposed to catch him. He most certainly wasn’t supposed to follow Wei Wuxian over the cliff.)

But, After All, I Am A Wen, by theleakypen

Jiang Cheng holds out the comb to Wen Qing. This is a bad time for giving gifts of affection, but he doesn’t know if he’ll ever have a better. “If anything happens to you in the future,” he says, “come find me and I will help you again.”

**

Wen Qing takes the comb and the promise and makes her way to Qinghe to see that the promise is fulfilled.

“I have found my brother, but I need help to rescue him from the Qishan Wen sect. Jiang-zongzhu— Jiang Wanyin, if you can help me rescue him and bring him back, I would be forever grateful.”

General:

Lies and Truth, by parodismal (locked)

What happen if Lan Wangji decided to actually check Qiongqi Path after Wei Wuxian leave?

....

It leads to a domino effect towards a new Chief Cultivator

Is it a better?

Or worse?

[riosnecktattoo]

Jawbreaker 💚💚

Thanks! I feel like I have few for this one 😊

In the original Part 1, which I had fully intended to be the only part, there was no almost-kiss. I was just planning to be a bellend and have Rio sad and yearny.

But then I was talking to @foxmagpie and she was like "so when do they kiss?!" and I was like........oh my god they don't, who am I, okay I'll add an almost-kiss at the end. And then that almost-kiss was the springboard to expand it.

They write an essay on East of Eden in Part 1 purely because I'd been listening to a lot of Mumford and Sons at the time, specifically the song Timshel. I had written some more stuff about choice and how Rio felt about Beth's choice but ended up cutting it cause it felt heavy-handed.

The whole Rio's favourite colour is green thing that carries through the whole fic only came about by chance when I last minute edited the car ride in Part 1 and was like What if Beth wore a dress that she knew Rio would like but he's too dumb to realise?

I then TOTALLY lucked out that the MSU school colour is green. I googled the college while writing Part 2 and was like fuck off that's so lucky 😂

Rio's jersey is 23 purely because Nathan Scott in One Tree Hill was 23 and Nathan and Haley were formative for me. (I also headcanon Beth not getting a Chinese hip tattoo, but a 23.)

The love poem Beth remembers Rio reading in class, The Good-Morrow by John Donne, is one of my personal favourites. I know it by heart. I loved the idea of Rio reading the line "I wonder by my troth, what thou and I did, till we loved?" aka the whole fic before they stopped messing about and KISSED.

Fic Secrets

[terrainofheartfelt]

It’s not a dair fic but i need everyone to know there is a fic where Dan & Serena’s daughters date and it is phenomenal https://archiveofourown.org/works/847097

OOOOOH thank you love! this author has some bangers!

[albusgellertalways]

Closer Than Brothers Cont'd fic update

Chapter 9: Albus and Too Many Clubs :P

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29179806/chapters/80075998

Excerpt: Gellert pulled their pendant out from under his shirt.  “I promise on our troth that I won’t ever purposely interrupt your class.”

“Thank you.”  Albus climbed onto the bed and sat up against the headboard.  “Come here, love.  It’s alright.  No real harm done.”

Gellert snuggled into Albus’ arms and relaxed.  “Mmm, this is nice.  It’s where I belong.”

“It is.  But if you do something like this again, you’ll have to stay in the Hospital Wing for the night,” Albus warned.

Gellert wrinkled his nose.  “Looks like I’ll have to toe the line from now on because I don’t ever want to be separated from you at night.”

“In my class, you will need to,” said Albus.  “However, I never said anything about your behavior in other classes.”

Gellert gave him a sly grin which Albus returned.  “That’s right, you didn’t.  Good, I was afraid you wanted me to be a square.”

“Definitely not,” said Albus.  “I love your mischievous streak, as long as it’s not directed in me in a classroom setting.”

“Do you forgive me?” Gellert said, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

“Oh, darling, that was never in doubt.”  Albus kissed Gellert’s cheek and tightened his arms.  “I love you with all that I am, Gellert.  Even when you’re being…”

“A jerk?” Gellert supplied.

[mockturtle8]

Ballads Ahoy

@bendingsignpost wrote a great fanfic called The Courtship of Combat (here).  In this fic, Castiel is a knight, and Dean is a prince.  Ballads get written about them.  By me, among other people, apparently.  Anyway, if you like folk-style slightly-soppy ballads based on an A/B/O Supernatural AU, see below! 

Ballad 1

In Rapture's hall there lived a man A knight who was the King's right hand Devoted to the King was he And Leader of the North Army

Sir Castiel was the good man's name Of noble heart and battle fame He broke the rebels one and all And glory brought to his King's hall

The King to Castiel says one day It's time that you had gone away Away to find your mate for life No more to follow drum and fife

Oh no my King, I cannot go A mate for life I'll never know It cannot be for me to wed Or ever share a marriage bed

How can this be, inquired the King For you, I would give anything For my right hand, no price too great To find for you your perfect mate

Sir Castiel said, if you must know My heart was claimed ten years ago He was too young, it was our fate We parted ways, I swore to wait

I've kept my faith and kept my love Through battle I have stormed and strove But even unto this fine date His father will not let him mate

The King cried tears of royal woe How can it be that this is so? And what omega stole your heart? Who forces you to live apart?

The one I love, said Castiel Lives in a castle on a hill In Winchester, with eyes of green The firstborn Prince, whose name is Dean

Dean's father has decreed, he said Prince Sam, the heir, must first be wed Before Prince Dean can tie the knot I fear heartache will be my lot

Cheer up, cheer up, then said the King And through the hall his voice did ring Your laddie with the greenest eye Will surely marry by and by

And when he does, you'll win his hand For you're the best knight in the land Take heart for soon will come the day When you will bear your love away

Ballad 2

One morning the king called his knight to the hall He said to the knight hang your shield on the wall Tomorrow we ride from the east to the west To find you the one who your heart will love best

The knight to his king said my lord I can't go I cannot ride with you or search high and low My heart is not free for to pledge or to give For I am in love for as long as I live

O whom do you love, my true knight, cried the king I thought you were free as a bird on the wing How can you have kept such a secret from me You know that I long for to see you happy

My love is a prince with a twinkling green eye A sword and a shield and a strong battle cry My love he has lips like the blooming rose And poetry follows wherever he goes

When my love's on the field he is fierce and he's wild But when he is home he is fair and he's mild With skin like a lily and hair like spun gold I'll be true to my love, I'll have him to hold

My love is a prince in a far distant land And when he is older I'll ask for his hand I'll give him my pledge on the day he is grown But until that day I must remain alone

The king to his knight said of course you must wait I give you my blessing for you've found your mate And when the time comes for to plight your troth I wish health and wealth and joy to you both

[royalcordelia]

This is just a girl’s way of coping. Do with it what you will. A future fic, in the (hopefully not so) loooong, distant future. Spoilers for 3x02.

..through every collapse and creation.. 

Anne Shirley had learned long ago to keep heart open to uninvited visitations of the past. Otherwise, they’d burst in, tearing the doors off their hinges to eat away at her with such an unforgiving vengeance that Anne would forget that she was in the present. 

But Winifred Rose was not one to viciously erupt into anything, and the sight of her across the train platform in Charlottetown sent an odd feeling through Anne. Dressed in hues of pink that were reminiscent of early spring blossoms, Miss Rose sat alone on a bench. She held a leather satchel in her hand and turned her delicate features up to the wind. 

Anne peered over her shoulder, wondering how much longer Gilbert would be purchasing the train tickets. When no sign of her fiance was seen, Anne moved through the waiting passengers over to where Miss Rose was lost in her thoughts. 

“Might I interrupt your thoughts for a moment, Miss Rose?” 

Sunlight shone into the lady’s eyes as she peered up in surprise. Anne tried not to bristle in quiet jealousy at how golden Winifred’s hair appeared in the midday luminescence, and instead focused on enjoying the company of a person she’d known many years ago.

“Anne Shirley, I hardly recognized you! What a delight it is to see you!” Miss Rose’s delighted laughter rang through the air as she hopped to her feet and pulled Anne into a fond embrace. Joy bubbled into Anne’s heart, the strange aura from just moments ago gone. 

“You are ever the picture of loveliness, as always!” Winifred continued, holding Anne at arm’s length to examine her. 

“I should say the same for you!” Anne chuckled in her mirth. “What are you doing here? I thought you were traveling the world, putting all those stuffy medical men in their place.” 

“Oh, I have a lifetime’s work ahead of me on that front. Strange how men gawk at the presence of a female doctor in a hospital. I’ve butted heads with more, as you say, stuffy medical men than I can count!” She lifted her bag up to her shoulder. “I was actually just meeting here with a Nova Scotia doctor about my discoveries. He seems partial to the idea of employing me, can you imagine?” 

“I can, I can! He could not hire a more suitable physician, even if he scoured the world,” Anne swore. “Except for Gilbert, maybe, but he seems content to keep his medical practice closer to home.”

At the mention of Gilbert, a reminiscent smile crossed Winifred’s lips, though Anne couldn’t know quite what she was remembering. She’d heard brief stories of uncomfortable tea chats and purple violets, but that had been so long ago. 

“How is the good Avonlea doctor? I ran into him at a conference last fall, but confess I haven’t seen him since.” 

“He’s abundantly well, much to my relief. He was quite ill with typhoid last spring and the doctor wasn’t sure if he’d make it. But he’s made a rapid recovery, for which I’m grateful,” Anne said warmly. Winifred, grabbed Anne’s hand in understanding, and gave a kind smile. “Actually, Gilbert should be out any minute. He came here with me.” 

“Another escort to Miss Barry’s?” Winifred teased. Anne smiled at the memory of the train rides she’d shared with Gilbert, even the ones that were tense and cold. How far they’d come, how far they’d grown - she mused. Remembering the real reason they’d caught the early morning train, Anne flushed.

“Actually, Gilbert and I came here to look at...well, troth rings. He proposed last month.” 

Winifred Rose could not have looked happier if she’d been told that all the illnesses in the world had been cured. Her beautiful smile stretched the length of her cheeks, eyes falling down to the pearly band on Anne’s fingers.

“Please accept my sincerest congratulations! I’m so pleased, I cannot begin to tell you.” She held Anne’s hand up to her eye. “And it suits you perfectly.” 

Anne was about to utter her genuine gratitude when a head of curly brown hair caught the corner of her eye. He came up beside her, grazing her back with a gentle caress of his fingertips.

“Sorry darling, the trainmaster had a rash that he wanted me to-” His eyes fell on the amused gaze of Winifred Rose, and he stammered. “Miss Rose. It’s been quite some time.” 

“It has! I was just catching up with your fiance about all the mischievous things you’ve been up to.” 

“Betrayed by my own betrothed, my good name sullied!” Gilbert replied dramatically. Anne nudged his side with her elbow and peered up at him with playful eye. Gilbert grabbed Anne’s and leaned a little closer. “Anne-girl, If we don’t get to our platform soon, we’ll miss our train.” 

“Then it appears I should leave you to your afternoon,” Winifred said, putting on her hat. 

“Promise you’ll visit before you embark to Europe again!” Anne cut in. “I want to hear about all of your interesting encounters.”

“And I wouldn’t mind hearing about Oxford’s new advancements,” Gilbert added.

“Absolutely!” 

With that she pressed a kiss to Anne’s cheek, then Gilbert’s and waved as the new couple departed for the boarding train. They sat shoulder-to-shoulder, hands held as appropriately as possible given the onlooking eyes. The hum of the chugging train lulled Gilbert’s eyes closed, and in his exhaustion, he leaned his head on her shoulder. Anne nuzzled his soft curls before pressing her lips to them. 

“Turns out you’re not that bad of an escort, after all,” Anne whispered when Gilbert’s breathing had evened out.

[aelaer]

Pinch Hit Tolkien Ficlet (Aragorn/Arwen)

While I didn't sign up for the exchange proper, I signed up a month ago to be a pinch hitter (to make a fill should a Secret Santa not deliver) for the @officialtolkiensecretsanta exchange, to maybe dabble again in Tolkien fanfic. And despite really really really needing to clean and pack right now, I couldn't help but jump up and volunteer for the opportunity of serving this fill for @kingofthereunitedkingdom. Aragorn fans gotta stick together, and Aragorn/Arwen is just so wholesome.

Along with the fic gift there is also a mathom in the form of a near decade-old sketch that fit with the fic. I hope you enjoy, despite it being in quite a pinch :)

(There's a lot of little lore references in the ficlet; don't hesitate to ask any questions, for any readers with questions.)

Title: Memory of Cloth

Chars: Aragorn, Arwen

Book-verse

WC: About 800

Rating: Gen

Lothlórien, TA 2980

A few days after she made the choice to pledge her troth to Aragorn, Arwen searched for a cloak to better suit him when he traveled again over the Hithaeglir. Instead, she found an old cedar trunk with her mother's name carefully etched into the wood.

She unlatched the case and pushed aside lavender sachets that had long since lost their scent to unveil the contents. It seemed to be mostly underlinens, one of her mother's many trunks that did not make it to Imladris after her departure from Middle-earth. It would explain why it was so easily forgotten.

After digging a little deeper, Arwen paused as she saw cornflower blue. Surely it was not—

It was. She stood up to fully pull out a large blanket spun of cornflower blue thread and embroidered with little white flowers and stars. Faded grass stains and frayed ages revealed its true wear and usage.

This was her favorite blanket as a child. She spent decades dragging it with her all over Imladris, and her mother painstakingly mended every tear and washed all the stains with a patience borne only by parents. A smile touched the edges of her lips and she went for the door of the flet to air it out.

Arwen gave it a good few shakes before she heard a somewhat bemused, "Lady Arwen?" come from below her. Standing at the foot of her flet was Aragorn, his habitually formal manner making an appearance when there was chance of others within Caras Galadhon overhearing him.

She, unlike he, cared less about what her grandmother's people thought of her lack of formality with the man she had chosen to betroth. She had her grandparents' approval; that was all she needed. (She would worry about her father later.) And so she smiled down at him and said, "Estel, hello! Sorry, am I late?" She glanced out to the sky.

He shook his head, then looked to the blanket. His brow was furrowed as he slowly called out, "Is that the… cloak you spoke of?"

Arwen laughed; that explained his look. "It would be poor camouflage for your travels. I will tell you; give me a moment."

She shut the door to the structure built upon the large flet and descended the ladder down with the natural ease of Elves, the large blanket slung over one shoulder. Aragorn was waiting for her at the bottom of the ladder, hands clasped in front of him and his eyes ever smiling.

"This was mine when I was a child," she said, offering it to him to inspect.

He took it and his lips quirked upward at one of the larger remnants of a grass stain. "I see it was used well. It's very large for a child's blanket."

Arwen rolled her eyes to herself as she admitted, "I wanted a blanket larger than the one on my parents' bed. My mother, bless her patience, decided to indulge me."

Aragorn's fingers stilled. "This was woven by Lady Celebrían?"

"My mother, yes," she said with some amusement. Aragorn still remained still and she realized that his smiling eyes had become somber. "Estel?"

"I beg your pardon," he said immediately. "I am—the lady Celebrían was little mentioned when I lived in Imladris, and never with levity, at least in front of me. I was just surprised."

Her own face grew somber and she looked down at the blanket. Aragorn handed it back to her wordlessly and she rubbed an off-white star between her fingers. "My father does not encourage it, and my brothers only remember their grief rather than the happy times." She met his eyes and offered him a slight smile. "But I was able to find healing here and I can remember her in better days."

And it was good that she did because it came to her with a full finality that she would never see her mother again.

Arwen refused to let that thought consume her now. Rather she placed the large blanket upon Aragorn's shoulders like a cloak. "If you do want it as a cloak, however, I can make some adjustments to it."

Aragorn's gaze lightened as she changed the subject and he chuckled. "I believe it suits better as a blanket."

She hummed in thought, then suddenly curled right next to him and pulled the blanket across herself, effectively trapping him. "Yes, I believe you are right. It makes an excellent blanket."

He laughed aloud in surprise, then relaxed and settled closer against her. She tugged the blanket about them a little tighter.

Let any passing Elf stare. This was her choice, and she was unashamed of it.