under 500 words
Sep. 19th, 2019 04:33![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
keilissOkay, I have just gone through my LJ tags and braved my fiction flash drive and-- here, I found it. And having found it, I have to post it somewhere. I was talking with Gabriel on Discord and one thing led to another and I remembered I had a highly AU Gil-galad/Elwing drabblet, requested by CuriousWombat, where they have just married and are sailing over to Balar.....
Normally I could not even begin to imagine this as anything other than a close friendship but the ficcie makes its own kind of sense. Very odd!
Request: The one where Gil-galad marries Elwing rather than becoming her friendly protector... Apparently this was written in 2013.
Gil-galad watched the shore recede as the rowers pulled his warship out into the bay, turning towards Balar. Elwing stood beside him, muffled against wind and spray in a cloak of rich brown fur, Círdan’s bridal gift. She too had her eyes on the shore rather than the open sea.
"My lords say I am deserting them. People are angry with me." Her voice was small, sad, taking him back to the fey child he had first befriended years ago. He gave the lines of Sirion a dark look. The signal fire still blazed, spreading the word of their marriage up and down the coast and he was sure those same angry lords were still happily feasting at his expense.
"No one is angry with you, little queen," he said gently, the old childhood name taking on new meaning now. He put his arm around her and turned her to face out to sea, towards the island that was about to become her home. "They are angry with me."
"You did nothing wrong," she said fiercely, the strength of the loyalty it had taken him years to earn behind the words. "You protect Sirion, you patrol the coast so that they can sleep safe at night. It's just...."
They both looked aft to where Gildor and Galadriel sat, a leather box on the bench between them. "I know, dear one," Gil-galad said quietly. "They say we are taking their luck over to the island. But truly Elwing, I think the real luck for them lies in the Jewel no longer residing in Sirion."
"They say it makes the land kind and hallows the rocks," she told him, a lesson learned by rote, but she was relaxing into his embrace now, no longer tight strung as she had been for the entire day.
"Well then the rocks have been hallowed and will stay so," he said pragmatically. There were all sorts of superstitions about the Silmarils, and that was one of the sillier. "But trust me on this - if some day Maedhros and his brothers decide to make another attempt to fulfil their father's Oath, those same lords who are upset at its loss now will be thanking the Mighty on their knees that the object of his attention is no longer in their care, but safe over the water with us."
"He will not come to Balar?" She was startled by a question she had never thought to ask.
He smiled and drew her closer against him, steel in his eyes. "Both you and your bride gift will be safe on Balar, little bird. Nothing can reach either of you there."
Normally I could not even begin to imagine this as anything other than a close friendship but the ficcie makes its own kind of sense. Very odd!
Request: The one where Gil-galad marries Elwing rather than becoming her friendly protector... Apparently this was written in 2013.
Gil-galad watched the shore recede as the rowers pulled his warship out into the bay, turning towards Balar. Elwing stood beside him, muffled against wind and spray in a cloak of rich brown fur, Círdan’s bridal gift. She too had her eyes on the shore rather than the open sea.
"My lords say I am deserting them. People are angry with me." Her voice was small, sad, taking him back to the fey child he had first befriended years ago. He gave the lines of Sirion a dark look. The signal fire still blazed, spreading the word of their marriage up and down the coast and he was sure those same angry lords were still happily feasting at his expense.
"No one is angry with you, little queen," he said gently, the old childhood name taking on new meaning now. He put his arm around her and turned her to face out to sea, towards the island that was about to become her home. "They are angry with me."
"You did nothing wrong," she said fiercely, the strength of the loyalty it had taken him years to earn behind the words. "You protect Sirion, you patrol the coast so that they can sleep safe at night. It's just...."
They both looked aft to where Gildor and Galadriel sat, a leather box on the bench between them. "I know, dear one," Gil-galad said quietly. "They say we are taking their luck over to the island. But truly Elwing, I think the real luck for them lies in the Jewel no longer residing in Sirion."
"They say it makes the land kind and hallows the rocks," she told him, a lesson learned by rote, but she was relaxing into his embrace now, no longer tight strung as she had been for the entire day.
"Well then the rocks have been hallowed and will stay so," he said pragmatically. There were all sorts of superstitions about the Silmarils, and that was one of the sillier. "But trust me on this - if some day Maedhros and his brothers decide to make another attempt to fulfil their father's Oath, those same lords who are upset at its loss now will be thanking the Mighty on their knees that the object of his attention is no longer in their care, but safe over the water with us."
"He will not come to Balar?" She was startled by a question she had never thought to ask.
He smiled and drew her closer against him, steel in his eyes. "Both you and your bride gift will be safe on Balar, little bird. Nothing can reach either of you there."
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