Fic: Kismet
May. 6th, 2013 03:25![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
keilissTitle: Kismet
Characters: Galadriel, Orodreth, Celebrimbor
Beta: Red Lasbelin
Summary: life can change in the blink of an eye if you're related to Galadriel.
Written for last year's SWG B2Me month. I have more. I just need to motivate myself out from this black cloud I'm walking around under.
ETA - late June: I know I replied to all the comments, but now only two are showing up. LJ has excelled itself!
Kismet
“Good evening, brother’s son.”
The voice came from directly behind him and for a moment Orodreth thought he was losing his mind: he hadn’t heard that voice nor seen its owner in decades. He turned slowly, half expecting empty space, but no, she was there, convincingly solid and wrapped in a mist grey cloak, her head covered. He would have picked her out in a crowd by her height and by the way she stood; she could have been her brother’s twin.
“Aunt, you startled me. What are you doing here? Why did no one announce you?”
She pushed the hood back and the lamplight glinted on her golden hair. “I told your watchmen I would find you myself? They would hardly argue.”
No, he thought. They would hardly argue. She was Artanis, Galadriel, Finrod’s sister, she could have the run of Nargothrond and no one would think to warn him unless she instructed them to. “Of course not. Where are your people? I’ll arrange somewhere for you to rest…” He moved instinctively towards the door curtain, trying to fight down an urge to seek out the crowded rustling of the underground city, away from this quiet, presence-filled room.
She was watching him, reading his every gesture, and now gave a half laugh, shaking her head. “I have no people, Orodreth. I travelled with an escort, of course – Celeborn draws his lines in the sand and I respect them, though I still think it would have been quicker and safer to come alone. But not even to those trusted few would I show the entrance to my brother’s realm - your realm now, of course.” She looked singularly unapologetic for the slip.
Orodreth seemed to have spent a large part of his life struggling to keep up with what was happening around him. On days like this he almost missed Fëanor’s sons – they would have played the family’s mind games with her, cousin to cousin, and explained it to him afterwards in simple sentences. Alone he was nowhere near Galadriel’s match. “Can I offer you food, wine?” he asked, buying time. “Whatever brought you here is surely not so urgent you cannot first rest a little, wash away the dust…”
Long, capable fingers went to her hair, tidied a few loose strands, tightened a pin. “I have something to discuss with you, something I saw in a dream that has to be acted upon urgently. Perhaps a cup of wine, yes. But discreetly. The fewer people know I was here, the better. The Watch have all promised me their silence, but a secret shared amongst many is no secret.”
They sat amongst cushions in the formal reception area where trusted guests had in the past been greeted and entertained. With his own hand, he poured them cups of good wine from the south-facing slopes in the highlands. Galadriel finally parted with her cloak, revealing sensible riding clothes beneath. She reclined with as much ease as though she had been at her grandfather’s court, not in a cavern realm in a rough land far beyond the Sea. A rough land and a people becoming increasingly rough as well, he thought ruefully, aware of the coarse weave of his robe. It was not easy for the Noldor to keep up pretty appearances while hiding like rats in their separate holes.
They said nothing about her brother or her cousins: she already knew the facts and there was little more to add. After the small talk about people she had known before she and Celeborn journeyed south and his questions in turn about life at the coast died away, the gap between his experiences and hers loomed large between them. She sat looking into her cup for a time, her fingers tracing the design on the stem. They were gold cups, part of the hoard Finrod had seen fit to bring with him, though Orodreth had no idea what would justify dragging drinking utensils across the Ice. He had respected, nay hero worshiped, tall, beautiful Finrod, but he had never pretended to understand him.
“You need to give me the boy,” Galadriel said finally.
Orodreth frowned. He had no idea what she was talking about. “Boy?”
“Your son. Starshine or some such name the dream said.”
He blinked. Of course, the boy had not been born when she was last here. “Gil-galad?” he asked disbelievingly. “My son?”
She nodded briskly. “Yes, though – Starlight? He’d thank you for a stronger name while he’s raised amongst the shore folk. Something to remind them of who he is... You still use my brother’s title, so perhaps Ereinion – the son of kings? That should serve.”
Orodreth struggled for words. “You can’t come in here and demand my son and change his name and... Of all the…” He had raised his voice and hastily lowered it again before she could look scorn at him for his lack of control, the way his father used to. The only person in his life who had ever listened and believed in him was his uncle, and Finrod was gone, never to return to Nargothrond.
“Be quiet and listen to me, Orodreth,” she said evenly. “I was born with the Sight, the entire family knows this, no one has ever disputed it. I do not know what comes, I do not have reasons why, all I know is that the fate of our people depends on your son removing to the coast, to Círdan’s fostering. He cannot remain here. If he does he will die.”
“To Círdan?” Again the sense of being ten steps behind and no chance of catching up. “Why would I send my son to…?”
“He’s your wife’s kinsman and lord of the shore folk,” she said, her low voice brimming with barely contained impatience. “Where better? And fostering junior royals and nobles is a time honoured custom, so it might seem a bit surprising but not without precedent. No one would question it. His mother could go along, if that would make it easier? I know he’s still very young.”
Orodreth felt the world running away from him. Were it anyone other than this tall, intimidating woman he could have dismissed this all out of hand, but he knew it for a family truth that if Galadriel said a thing would or must happen, it did. If she said his son had to leave for his life’s sake… He thought of Gil-galad, the child his duties gave him so little time for, with his eager intelligent eyes and dark curls, that winning smile – he had the family charm which seemed to have skipped a generation; no one had ever called Orodreth charming. He had no illusions about himself, he knew he was serious, studious, slow and at times downright boring, but he was steady and he knew what it took to make Nargothrond work. Finrod had seen that.
Eventually he had to look at Galadriel, waiting patiently with her wine. “For how long?”
She shook her head. “When he’s grown, he can decide. That is as far as I can see.”
“My daughter…. I also have a daughter.”
She nodded.”Finduilas, yes. I remember her. I saw nothing about her, so her place must be here, or there is some other fate already woven for her. But the boy must come away with me, time grows short.”
For the second time that day a sound from behind made him start. This time it was yet another member of Finwë’s extended clan. “Celebrimbor,” he said, his tone harsher than intended. “What are you doing here? I gave word I wasn’t to be disturbed.”
Curufin’s son strode in, confident of his welcome, dark hair braided loosely back from his strong, handsome face. “One of the Watchers told me there was a bit of a family reunion going on. Well met, Cousin.” His eyes lingered appreciatively.
Galadriel flicked him a look, then extended a hand and waited until he had bent to brush his lips to its back. “Celebrimbor,” she said coolly. “Rough hands, smith’s hands – your grandfather’s gift also visited you, did it?” Her eyes were thoughtful while she spoke and then she nodded to herself. “I think this touches you as well.... Tell me, do you have any urge to visit the coast? How would you like to join me and Orodreth’s son? We leave tonight. Isn’t that so, Orodreth?”
Her sea-green eyes were like the Helcaraxë under starlight: they held him pinned against the cushions. He could no more imagine arguing with those eyes than he could fly. And she was offering his son his life. Dumbly he nodded. “Tonight, yes,” he heard the shake in his voice betray him. “Tonight. As soon as he and my wife are ready.”
There was one good thing, he supposed, as he watched Celebrimbor watching Galadriel, awaiting an explanation. Whatever her motive in inviting Curufin’s son to travel with her, at least Nargothrond would be rid of the last of the Fëanorians. He would be without his wife and child for a time, but the city Finrod had left in his care would finally be safe.
Characters: Galadriel, Orodreth, Celebrimbor
Beta: Red Lasbelin
Summary: life can change in the blink of an eye if you're related to Galadriel.
Written for last year's SWG B2Me month. I have more. I just need to motivate myself out from this black cloud I'm walking around under.
ETA - late June: I know I replied to all the comments, but now only two are showing up. LJ has excelled itself!
Kismet
“Good evening, brother’s son.”
The voice came from directly behind him and for a moment Orodreth thought he was losing his mind: he hadn’t heard that voice nor seen its owner in decades. He turned slowly, half expecting empty space, but no, she was there, convincingly solid and wrapped in a mist grey cloak, her head covered. He would have picked her out in a crowd by her height and by the way she stood; she could have been her brother’s twin.
“Aunt, you startled me. What are you doing here? Why did no one announce you?”
She pushed the hood back and the lamplight glinted on her golden hair. “I told your watchmen I would find you myself? They would hardly argue.”
No, he thought. They would hardly argue. She was Artanis, Galadriel, Finrod’s sister, she could have the run of Nargothrond and no one would think to warn him unless she instructed them to. “Of course not. Where are your people? I’ll arrange somewhere for you to rest…” He moved instinctively towards the door curtain, trying to fight down an urge to seek out the crowded rustling of the underground city, away from this quiet, presence-filled room.
She was watching him, reading his every gesture, and now gave a half laugh, shaking her head. “I have no people, Orodreth. I travelled with an escort, of course – Celeborn draws his lines in the sand and I respect them, though I still think it would have been quicker and safer to come alone. But not even to those trusted few would I show the entrance to my brother’s realm - your realm now, of course.” She looked singularly unapologetic for the slip.
Orodreth seemed to have spent a large part of his life struggling to keep up with what was happening around him. On days like this he almost missed Fëanor’s sons – they would have played the family’s mind games with her, cousin to cousin, and explained it to him afterwards in simple sentences. Alone he was nowhere near Galadriel’s match. “Can I offer you food, wine?” he asked, buying time. “Whatever brought you here is surely not so urgent you cannot first rest a little, wash away the dust…”
Long, capable fingers went to her hair, tidied a few loose strands, tightened a pin. “I have something to discuss with you, something I saw in a dream that has to be acted upon urgently. Perhaps a cup of wine, yes. But discreetly. The fewer people know I was here, the better. The Watch have all promised me their silence, but a secret shared amongst many is no secret.”
They sat amongst cushions in the formal reception area where trusted guests had in the past been greeted and entertained. With his own hand, he poured them cups of good wine from the south-facing slopes in the highlands. Galadriel finally parted with her cloak, revealing sensible riding clothes beneath. She reclined with as much ease as though she had been at her grandfather’s court, not in a cavern realm in a rough land far beyond the Sea. A rough land and a people becoming increasingly rough as well, he thought ruefully, aware of the coarse weave of his robe. It was not easy for the Noldor to keep up pretty appearances while hiding like rats in their separate holes.
They said nothing about her brother or her cousins: she already knew the facts and there was little more to add. After the small talk about people she had known before she and Celeborn journeyed south and his questions in turn about life at the coast died away, the gap between his experiences and hers loomed large between them. She sat looking into her cup for a time, her fingers tracing the design on the stem. They were gold cups, part of the hoard Finrod had seen fit to bring with him, though Orodreth had no idea what would justify dragging drinking utensils across the Ice. He had respected, nay hero worshiped, tall, beautiful Finrod, but he had never pretended to understand him.
“You need to give me the boy,” Galadriel said finally.
Orodreth frowned. He had no idea what she was talking about. “Boy?”
“Your son. Starshine or some such name the dream said.”
He blinked. Of course, the boy had not been born when she was last here. “Gil-galad?” he asked disbelievingly. “My son?”
She nodded briskly. “Yes, though – Starlight? He’d thank you for a stronger name while he’s raised amongst the shore folk. Something to remind them of who he is... You still use my brother’s title, so perhaps Ereinion – the son of kings? That should serve.”
Orodreth struggled for words. “You can’t come in here and demand my son and change his name and... Of all the…” He had raised his voice and hastily lowered it again before she could look scorn at him for his lack of control, the way his father used to. The only person in his life who had ever listened and believed in him was his uncle, and Finrod was gone, never to return to Nargothrond.
“Be quiet and listen to me, Orodreth,” she said evenly. “I was born with the Sight, the entire family knows this, no one has ever disputed it. I do not know what comes, I do not have reasons why, all I know is that the fate of our people depends on your son removing to the coast, to Círdan’s fostering. He cannot remain here. If he does he will die.”
“To Círdan?” Again the sense of being ten steps behind and no chance of catching up. “Why would I send my son to…?”
“He’s your wife’s kinsman and lord of the shore folk,” she said, her low voice brimming with barely contained impatience. “Where better? And fostering junior royals and nobles is a time honoured custom, so it might seem a bit surprising but not without precedent. No one would question it. His mother could go along, if that would make it easier? I know he’s still very young.”
Orodreth felt the world running away from him. Were it anyone other than this tall, intimidating woman he could have dismissed this all out of hand, but he knew it for a family truth that if Galadriel said a thing would or must happen, it did. If she said his son had to leave for his life’s sake… He thought of Gil-galad, the child his duties gave him so little time for, with his eager intelligent eyes and dark curls, that winning smile – he had the family charm which seemed to have skipped a generation; no one had ever called Orodreth charming. He had no illusions about himself, he knew he was serious, studious, slow and at times downright boring, but he was steady and he knew what it took to make Nargothrond work. Finrod had seen that.
Eventually he had to look at Galadriel, waiting patiently with her wine. “For how long?”
She shook her head. “When he’s grown, he can decide. That is as far as I can see.”
“My daughter…. I also have a daughter.”
She nodded.”Finduilas, yes. I remember her. I saw nothing about her, so her place must be here, or there is some other fate already woven for her. But the boy must come away with me, time grows short.”
For the second time that day a sound from behind made him start. This time it was yet another member of Finwë’s extended clan. “Celebrimbor,” he said, his tone harsher than intended. “What are you doing here? I gave word I wasn’t to be disturbed.”
Curufin’s son strode in, confident of his welcome, dark hair braided loosely back from his strong, handsome face. “One of the Watchers told me there was a bit of a family reunion going on. Well met, Cousin.” His eyes lingered appreciatively.
Galadriel flicked him a look, then extended a hand and waited until he had bent to brush his lips to its back. “Celebrimbor,” she said coolly. “Rough hands, smith’s hands – your grandfather’s gift also visited you, did it?” Her eyes were thoughtful while she spoke and then she nodded to herself. “I think this touches you as well.... Tell me, do you have any urge to visit the coast? How would you like to join me and Orodreth’s son? We leave tonight. Isn’t that so, Orodreth?”
Her sea-green eyes were like the Helcaraxë under starlight: they held him pinned against the cushions. He could no more imagine arguing with those eyes than he could fly. And she was offering his son his life. Dumbly he nodded. “Tonight, yes,” he heard the shake in his voice betray him. “Tonight. As soon as he and my wife are ready.”
There was one good thing, he supposed, as he watched Celebrimbor watching Galadriel, awaiting an explanation. Whatever her motive in inviting Curufin’s son to travel with her, at least Nargothrond would be rid of the last of the Fëanorians. He would be without his wife and child for a time, but the city Finrod had left in his care would finally be safe.
no subject
Date: 2013-05-06 01:53 (UTC)There are some parts that I absolutely adored:
"On days like this he almost missed Fëanor’s sons – they would have played the family’s mind games with her, cousin to cousin, and explained it to him afterwards in simple sentences. Alone he was nowhere near Galadriel’s match."
Love it. Also:
He thought of Gil-galad, the child his duties gave him so little time for, with his eager intelligent eyes and dark curls, that winning smile – he had the family charm which seemed to have skipped a generation; no one had ever called Orodreth charming. He had no illusions about himself, he knew he was serious, studious, slow and at times downright boring, but he was steady and he knew what it took to make Nargothrond work. Finrod had seen that.
I have never been drawn to Orodreth myself. (That lack of flamboyant Finwean charisma, I suppose.) But you make me like him in this passage. Decent and, as he says, "steady," with a very attractive element of modesty amidst all those larger than life egos.
It adds another layer to your personal back story for these characters which I have only caught glimpses of before. I really enjoyed it.
no subject
Date: 2013-05-09 02:12 (UTC)I think Orodreth was kind of the white sheep of the family, the quiet, hard working, NICE man that no one except Finrod ever noticed - flamboyant is the right word for the rest of that clan, yes. He did his best and was perpetually outclassed or outgunned, but at least he had the sense to listen to the right person this time.
no subject
Date: 2013-05-06 03:00 (UTC)This was interesting to me.
no subject
Date: 2013-05-09 02:09 (UTC)Get well *hugs*
no subject
Date: 2013-05-06 07:28 (UTC)Ha, lucky Celeborn, what would he have done if she didn't?... *wink*
Yes, I think I like her, the way you draw her.
I don't usually, but you do a great job at making her "my kind of" to an extent.
What touched me, that wasn't the focus here, were the bits about Finrod.
The lost, loved brother, and king, and treasure hoarder, and loyal, and what not, golden Finrod.
I hope you'll emerge from under that black cloud soon. I feel the same and this story helped a little.
Thank you.
no subject
Date: 2013-05-09 02:05 (UTC)Until I started writing this, I never thought about the kind of relationship Finrod would have had with Orodreth, but it made so much sense that he would have been kind and seen the strengths in his quiet nephew and that Orodreth would have hero worshiped him. And of course in my 'verse, he is always the brother Galadriel is closest to.
I'm sorry you're also having a black cloud experience. If this helped a little, it makes me very happy. Thank you, Scarlet.
no subject
Date: 2013-05-06 09:31 (UTC)The details and characterizations are all spot-on, of course!
(I feared there might be a black cloud. *tries to shoo black cloud away with a fan*)
no subject
Date: 2013-05-09 01:59 (UTC)(Thank you, my dear, that means a lot)
no subject
Date: 2013-05-06 11:09 (UTC)I really like the way your characters are drawn - like Oshun I love the bit about family mind games, and I like too those other glimpses - Galdriel not having Gil-galad's name right, tall, beautiful Finrod who brought golden goblets in his luggage on the long trek, the relationship between Galadriel and Celeborn...
And poor Orodreth - caught like a rabbit in the headlights, simply agreeing to send his wife and son off with Galadriel.
I wonder what his wife thought!
no subject
Date: 2013-05-09 01:54 (UTC)'like a rabbit in the headlights' absolutely sums it up, lol! Poor man knew he'd lost before she even told him what she wanted. I got the sense he's been standing on the sidelines his whole life while the rest of his extended family pushed ahead and did huge, exciting things 'their' way. A decent man, but out of his depth.
I also wondered what his wife thought, though if she came from one of the coastal cities she was probably thrilled to get out of that cave for a while. :D
no subject
Date: 2013-05-06 15:03 (UTC)Ordreth thought ridding Nargothrond of Fëanorians would make it safe. He miscalculated rather badly. How fortunate that Galadriel had a vision about his son's safety!
Lol, she had a point about the name. :)
*hugs*
no subject
Date: 2013-05-09 01:48 (UTC)I love writing her. Very glad you enjoyed it, dear :)
*hugs*
no subject
Date: 2013-05-06 18:00 (UTC)I have missed you and have wondered how you have been. Sorry to hear that a black cloud is hanging over you these days. In a few weeks time, I hope to have some photos of Glorfindel and Erestor (the roses) in flower as a little cheer. Right now, they're growing leaves like mad.
no subject
Date: 2013-05-09 01:43 (UTC)And I'm very happy to know you liked this little piece. Thank you so much :)
ETA: I love that icon!
no subject
Date: 2013-05-09 12:20 (UTC)He could no more imagine arguing with those eyes than he could fly.
Great Bauglir, but she is scary-powerful-gorgeous as she is in this ficlet, and yet she mends Celeborn's shirts (thinking of The Tapestry here), that touch of humanity, recalling the more down-to-earth aspects of the larger-than-life women of our primary world. Your characterization of her continues to be inspiring.
And this?
Curufin’s son strode in, confident of his welcome, dark hair braided loosely back from his strong, handsome face.
Oooooh, yeah! One sentence, striking characterization...esp."confident of his welcome." Pandë!verse-Tyelpo is nodding vigo(u)rously with approval.
I thought that icon (from Jeff Murray's artwork) might be appropriate for your ficlet :^), plus Galadriel is humming along in the background (so far, she'll make a grand appearance later) in my current WIP.
no subject
Date: 2013-05-12 04:31 (UTC)I don't write Orodreth, so it was strange to find someone I recognised when I finished this. He's an administrator, a good one, and he cares about Nargothrond and understands how it works. That's why Finrod left it in his care. But as for standing up against the rest of his extended family - not a chance, not unless he's really pushed to it. At least he knew he was out of his depth here and didn't really try.
I suspect Galadriel relies rather a lot on reputation and being able to look scary to get people doing what she wants *g*. And yes she mends Celeborn's shirts, and in Burning Bright she's a less than perfect mother (and knows it). These are the parts of her, the contrasts to power, that I most like discovering, and I'm delighted that you find them interesting.
no subject
Date: 2013-05-06 19:17 (UTC)Hope your spirits are lifted soon.
no subject
Date: 2013-05-09 01:32 (UTC)And thank you :) *hugs*
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Date: 2013-05-06 23:21 (UTC)A despairing little piece, in a way, but lovely all the same. Thoughtful and thought provoking.
I hope the black cloud lightens, darling.
**loves**
no subject
Date: 2013-05-09 01:28 (UTC)Thanks dear - it's my turn to have everything go wrong at once. It's made me more than a bit antisocial and I need to shake that off. So not who I am!
*loves*
no subject
Date: 2013-05-07 15:52 (UTC)I hope the black cloud evaporates quickly and a warm sun shines upon you :D
no subject
Date: 2013-05-09 01:26 (UTC)It was sad for everyone, wasn't it? Those who survived as well as those who didn't.
no subject
Date: 2013-05-11 14:38 (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-05-12 04:26 (UTC)