more of the hobbit/lotr thing
Mar. 15th, 2013 12:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bedlamsbardI have no idea why I start out with the same (or very similar) trope in almost every fandom I write in, whether that's Narnia, Star Wars (and looking back, I also realize that something similar was one of the first things I played with in the fandom, back in 2007), BSG (I didn't write it, but I thought about it!), or Avengers, and (sort of) HP, except that it's becoming rapidly clear that I have a Thing for a certain type of fandom. *facepalm* To be fair, I knew that already, and to also be fair, I knew that I had a Thing for playing with that trope beforehand, and also that ninety-nine percent of the time, it never ends up going anywhere because I'm more interested in the lulz than the long-term repercussions.
Er, anyway. I like seeing what fannish authors I like are playing with, even if it's never going to be finished, plus (as just happened) five years later I can dig back and go, "oh my god, I wrote what?" (Don't ask me how much time I just lost to the realization that I apparently wrote a fair bit of HP smut back in the day. Well, to be fair, who didn't?) At least at this point I can happily state that even if I'm still not sure what it is (thought experiment? random writing? character stuff? brain clearage?), I will admit that it exists (in a doc titled 'random hobbit fic').
Straight on from here.
“So it would seem,” Thorin remarks. His gaze travels over the members of the Fellowship, lingering on Legolas with a glower, on Gimli with curiosity, and then passing over Frodo without a flicker of recognition – well, of course not; they’ve never met before and it’s not like he looks anything like Bilbo. “More halflings, Gandalf? Are you starting a collection?”
*
Thorin takes the news of the past six decades, outlined in brief and leaving out the matter of the Ring, surprisingly well. He asks briefly after the Lonely Mountain and the surviving members of his company, his face lighting up when Gimli tells him enthusiastically about how Balin had retaken Moria. Gandalf stands off from him, puffing on his pipe, the smoke curling up past the brim of his hat, drawn low across his face. Legolas watches with sharp eyes, with the kind of stillness that Frodo has learned to predict often precedes sudden violence. A little ways away, Aragorn has drawn Boromir aside and is whispering in his ear – telling him the entire complicated backstory in as few words as possible, Frodo assumes.
He and the others sit huddled together, all of them sneaking awed looks at the hero of Bilbo Baggins’ stories. Even Pippin seems a little overwhelmed.
When Gimli trails off, Thorin looks up from his bowl of stew and says into the sudden silence, “And my nephews, Gandalf?”
Smoke trickles out of either side of Gandalf’s mouth as he coughs. “They fell –” he begins.
“I remember,” Thorin says, his voice going lower. “But have they returned as well? Could they?”
Gandalf hesitates, which is never a good sign, and says at last, “I don’t know. This type of situation has never occurred before, to my knowledge."
Er, anyway. I like seeing what fannish authors I like are playing with, even if it's never going to be finished, plus (as just happened) five years later I can dig back and go, "oh my god, I wrote what?" (Don't ask me how much time I just lost to the realization that I apparently wrote a fair bit of HP smut back in the day. Well, to be fair, who didn't?) At least at this point I can happily state that even if I'm still not sure what it is (thought experiment? random writing? character stuff? brain clearage?), I will admit that it exists (in a doc titled 'random hobbit fic').
Straight on from here.
“So it would seem,” Thorin remarks. His gaze travels over the members of the Fellowship, lingering on Legolas with a glower, on Gimli with curiosity, and then passing over Frodo without a flicker of recognition – well, of course not; they’ve never met before and it’s not like he looks anything like Bilbo. “More halflings, Gandalf? Are you starting a collection?”
*
Thorin takes the news of the past six decades, outlined in brief and leaving out the matter of the Ring, surprisingly well. He asks briefly after the Lonely Mountain and the surviving members of his company, his face lighting up when Gimli tells him enthusiastically about how Balin had retaken Moria. Gandalf stands off from him, puffing on his pipe, the smoke curling up past the brim of his hat, drawn low across his face. Legolas watches with sharp eyes, with the kind of stillness that Frodo has learned to predict often precedes sudden violence. A little ways away, Aragorn has drawn Boromir aside and is whispering in his ear – telling him the entire complicated backstory in as few words as possible, Frodo assumes.
He and the others sit huddled together, all of them sneaking awed looks at the hero of Bilbo Baggins’ stories. Even Pippin seems a little overwhelmed.
When Gimli trails off, Thorin looks up from his bowl of stew and says into the sudden silence, “And my nephews, Gandalf?”
Smoke trickles out of either side of Gandalf’s mouth as he coughs. “They fell –” he begins.
“I remember,” Thorin says, his voice going lower. “But have they returned as well? Could they?”
Gandalf hesitates, which is never a good sign, and says at last, “I don’t know. This type of situation has never occurred before, to my knowledge."