Going back to Middle-Earth!
Mar. 1st, 2013 02:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tehtaIt's Back To Middle Earth Month! And there are prompts and things over at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
b2mem!
And I have decided to participate, at least a little.
Anyway, here is a vignette, written for the Friendship prompt (which cites Maedhros and Fingon.) I guess it follows from this older vignette of mine (although I don't think you have to read that one, at all, to follow this one.) Warning for SUPER IRONIC title. Also for the fact that this is not humour. It is 450 words long, and was written breathtakingly fast, i.e., in about an hour.
The Cliff and the Ice
“The things you talk me into...”
“Come on, Maitimo, you know you love it!” Findekano’s eyes shone out of the snow-laden gloom. “Well, you do not hate it. Not really. Or, at the very least, you are not bored. You did complain you were, at court.”
“So I did.” Maitimo took a moment to look downward, at the arduous length of cliff-face they had climbed, then upward, at the intimidating distance that remained. The wind shifted; ice crystals hit his upturned face, scouring it, and the ropes attaching him to the wall creaked. “And this does make a change from council meetings, I grant you. But as for boredom... I have spent the last hour dangling halfway up a mountain, watching you struggle up an ice-shelf, failing -- and falling -- each time. As an overall experience, it is no less repetitive than your brother's speeches."
But far more heart-wrenching, he thought -- but did not say: if his foolhardy cousin did not fear the long falls, revealing his own concern would help no-one. Once again, he checked the rope connecting them together.
"Well, thanks for stopping my falls, in spite of your ennui," said Findekano cheerfully and obliviously. "Ice is tricky. And if you think you could do better--”
“I could, in spite of my lesser skill -- if I had gear for climbing ice. Which I would have brought, if you had told me more about the route."
“I did not know what we would find. Exciting, is it not? Anyway, there is no such thing as gear for climbing ice.”
“There is, now. I invented it sometime between your ninth fall and your twelfth.”
“What is it, then?”
“An array of spikes for your shoes, and your hands. To anchor you in the vile substance.”
“That might work." Findekano stared up the cliff. The crystals struck again, and he shook his head hard to dislodge them, braids flying. "I do not suppose you could make some now? Out of the rock-spikes we have left?"
"Sadly, I have left my portable forge at home."
“We must bring it next time. But, Eru,” Findekano’s bright eyes looked ever upwards, sweeping over the buttresses of ice, “what a beautiful mountain. Imagine how it will feel to finally reach the summit.”
“Nobody will care.”
“We will.”
Their eyes met again, at last, and -- in spite of the cold, the worry, the entirely superfluous amount of snow -- Maitimo just had to smile at the thought of a simple thing to be shared between two people only. In his complex family, in his grandfather’s sophisticated court, such things were rare.
Fingon smiled back. “See? You do love it.”
Author's note:
Am now feeling paranoid that I have not explained what is going on clearly enough, in the fic.
They are climbing, of course, and using a rather anachronistic protection system, i.e. pretty much what one would use today. (In my headcanon, it is all designed by Maedhros, who is A Planner.) So Maedhros has attached himself to the rock with a bunch of spikes and ropes, while Fingon is attached to a single, dynamic rope, which is attached to Maedhros. Or rather, to a device which lets the rope go through as he climbs, but bites down on it if he falls. Fingon climbs up, and, every now and then, attaches a metal loop to the wall, and runs his rope through this loop. If he falls, he will hopefully end up dangling below this loop: the distance he falls depends on how far from the loop he has climbed. I imagine that here, it is quite a few meters.
At the start, Maedhros has let out enough rope for Fingon to come back down to his level, so they can have a chat about his stupid attempts to climb ice in normal shoes.
b2mem!And I have decided to participate, at least a little.
Anyway, here is a vignette, written for the Friendship prompt (which cites Maedhros and Fingon.) I guess it follows from this older vignette of mine (although I don't think you have to read that one, at all, to follow this one.) Warning for SUPER IRONIC title. Also for the fact that this is not humour. It is 450 words long, and was written breathtakingly fast, i.e., in about an hour.
The Cliff and the Ice
“The things you talk me into...”
“Come on, Maitimo, you know you love it!” Findekano’s eyes shone out of the snow-laden gloom. “Well, you do not hate it. Not really. Or, at the very least, you are not bored. You did complain you were, at court.”
“So I did.” Maitimo took a moment to look downward, at the arduous length of cliff-face they had climbed, then upward, at the intimidating distance that remained. The wind shifted; ice crystals hit his upturned face, scouring it, and the ropes attaching him to the wall creaked. “And this does make a change from council meetings, I grant you. But as for boredom... I have spent the last hour dangling halfway up a mountain, watching you struggle up an ice-shelf, failing -- and falling -- each time. As an overall experience, it is no less repetitive than your brother's speeches."
But far more heart-wrenching, he thought -- but did not say: if his foolhardy cousin did not fear the long falls, revealing his own concern would help no-one. Once again, he checked the rope connecting them together.
"Well, thanks for stopping my falls, in spite of your ennui," said Findekano cheerfully and obliviously. "Ice is tricky. And if you think you could do better--”
“I could, in spite of my lesser skill -- if I had gear for climbing ice. Which I would have brought, if you had told me more about the route."
“I did not know what we would find. Exciting, is it not? Anyway, there is no such thing as gear for climbing ice.”
“There is, now. I invented it sometime between your ninth fall and your twelfth.”
“What is it, then?”
“An array of spikes for your shoes, and your hands. To anchor you in the vile substance.”
“That might work." Findekano stared up the cliff. The crystals struck again, and he shook his head hard to dislodge them, braids flying. "I do not suppose you could make some now? Out of the rock-spikes we have left?"
"Sadly, I have left my portable forge at home."
“We must bring it next time. But, Eru,” Findekano’s bright eyes looked ever upwards, sweeping over the buttresses of ice, “what a beautiful mountain. Imagine how it will feel to finally reach the summit.”
“Nobody will care.”
“We will.”
Their eyes met again, at last, and -- in spite of the cold, the worry, the entirely superfluous amount of snow -- Maitimo just had to smile at the thought of a simple thing to be shared between two people only. In his complex family, in his grandfather’s sophisticated court, such things were rare.
Fingon smiled back. “See? You do love it.”
Author's note:
Am now feeling paranoid that I have not explained what is going on clearly enough, in the fic.
They are climbing, of course, and using a rather anachronistic protection system, i.e. pretty much what one would use today. (In my headcanon, it is all designed by Maedhros, who is A Planner.) So Maedhros has attached himself to the rock with a bunch of spikes and ropes, while Fingon is attached to a single, dynamic rope, which is attached to Maedhros. Or rather, to a device which lets the rope go through as he climbs, but bites down on it if he falls. Fingon climbs up, and, every now and then, attaches a metal loop to the wall, and runs his rope through this loop. If he falls, he will hopefully end up dangling below this loop: the distance he falls depends on how far from the loop he has climbed. I imagine that here, it is quite a few meters.
At the start, Maedhros has let out enough rope for Fingon to come back down to his level, so they can have a chat about his stupid attempts to climb ice in normal shoes.
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no subject
Date: 2013-03-01 08:08 pm (UTC)Who can resist this aspect of Fingon and Maedhros. You capture what makes me love them as a couple, works on a purely friendship level also--the compare and contrast.
I love that Fingon will no doubt be much better equipped next time. I am so sad Maedhros didn't think to bring his portable forge. (OMG! caved into an impulse buy on Amazon this morning--thank god that it did not cost much, since I'd like to think I could figure this stuff out myself. It a book about some practical matters which are important when writing fantasy. But I liked the cover.
It mentioned how heavy it is to carry cooking utensils and other things around--a portable forge would go on that list, I am sure.)
I was glad for the link to the other story. I never read it!
I am trying to decide if I want to take that prompt! I used that citation as an opening to the first Silm fic I ever write. (I wrote a drabble before that one, but that does not count.)
no subject
Date: 2013-03-02 01:15 am (UTC)You should totally write for that prompt, if you feel inspired at all.