Registered: Jan 2002
Location: Pulling the covers up over my head and snuggling all day
Posts: 219

quote:

---

Maeglian:

The linden and forest smells mingle
with the camp fire’s woodsmoke. Each single
breath is making you thrill
and you savour your fill
as the soft rich night scents make you tingle

---

What a beautiful limerick, Maeg!! Although 'beautiful' and 'limerick' sound a little odd together..

So things are quiet because of camping, huh?
Kissing bets and harem origin stories--those are so great, Peachy!

Sorry to hear about your loss, Elanorh. {{{Elanorh}}} The hair trigger emotions of pregnancy are a trial sometimes. Just don't make any big hair decisions. Like suddenly getting fed up and cutting it.

{{{Harem}}}}

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Arwen (looking at Harem): As wicked fools I scorned them, but I pity them at last.
The thing about the Road to Hell is, it's just fun!! Also, it's nicely paved. --Cion
Merry's prayer: God, help me to not try to RUN everything. But, if You need some help, just ask!
After a while the Harem began to giggle with pleasure to themselves: ‘Isn’t he beautiful? Isn’t he scrumptiously shaggable?' --Peachy

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Registered: Oct 2002
Location: Out of sight, out of mind
Posts: 496

Tackles Stormy in a delighted hug!!! It's so good to see you!


Meryl, thank you for letting us know how you're all doing. The colour here says... something about a slight twinge of envy .... y'know: Wish I was there, too! Say hello to everyone!


(((Elanorh))) - my belated condolences.


Peachy - you're really something! Wonderful!
(My mind skipped ahead to "Chip the glasses and crack the plates...." .There are some possibilities for a re-write there too.... )


In the gathering dusk, Maeg settles comfortably by the fire, wrapped in a soft nice blanket, with a bowl of strawberries and Elanorh's cream dip within reach, and falls into deep thought.

__________________
Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
When you think everything's okay and everything's going right
And life has a funny way of helping you out when
You think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up in your face
Alanis Morissette, "Ironic"

Last edited by Maeglian on 06-16-2003 at 02:56 PM

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Registered: Jan 2002
Location: back
Posts: 582

Tata's got an AXE?? After all those assurances last year that we had no axe murderers...

(((((stormy)))))

Mel

__________________
In a forum on the Net there lived a Harem. Not a brainless, silly, fangurl’s harem, filled with the squeals of the illiterate and endless drooling, nor yet a dry, bare, academic harem with nothing in it to laugh about or to eat: it was a hobbit-harem, and that means comfort. --Peachy

walk to Rivendell: 60 of 458 miles

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Registered: May 2002
Location: lust... er I mean lost forever....
Posts: 233

(((( Stormy)))) Where've ya been? You dont post nearly enough nowadays. We've missed you. And is that a new avatar I see? Ooohh.. angsty.

Glad to hear the real camping hoot is going well.

For those of us relying on our imaginations- here's a visual aid..
Frodo is sleeping...his raven curls fall over his forehead, the moonlight giving his creamy skin an ethereal glow, his dusky lashes casting soft shadows like whispers on his cheek. A smile plays at the edges of those most kissable lips. A pleasant dream..


Something disturbs his slumber.. his eyes snap open..a frown creases those perfect brows.

He half rises...

... and relaxes, realising it is you. He throws back the blanket and welcomes you into his arms.....

__________________
Keep praising, that's the key. Philippians 4 vs4
Eagerly awaiting the Return of The King. 1Thess.4 vs16
Lipsmackinbrowsquinchinringbearinswooninducinhoney
tastintweedwearinlindenscentedharemlovin.......Frodo
Hope sees the invisible, feels the intangible and achieves the impossible.

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Location: Horny, hellbound and happy in the Harem with Meryl Marie
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((((Meryl)))). It sounds wonderful. I'm so very jealous.

Praise from Stormyday? Gosh!! starts to hyperventilate

On with the story. I must say, you lasses have interestingly speculative minds.. I dunno..


They had not been at the table long, in fact they had hardly reached the third cheesecake, when there came another even louder ring at the bell.
‘Excuse me!’ said the hobbit, and off he went to the door.
‘So you have got here at last!’ That was what he was going to say to Gandalf this time. But it was not Gandalf. Instead there was a very hot-looking lass on the step with a white dress and a scarlet hood; and she too hopped inside as soon as the door was open, just as if she had been invited.
‘I see they have begun to arrive already,’ she said when she caught sight of Pearl’s green hood hanging up. She hung her red one next to it, and ‘Niphredil at your service,’ she said, before adding, ‘oh, Frodo, you look absolutely gorgeous.’
‘Thank you!’ said Frodo with a gasp. It was not the correct thing to say, but ‘they have begun to arrive’ had flustered him badly. He liked lasses, but he liked to know them before they started chatting him up, and he preferred to chat them up himself. He had a horrible thought that the cakes might run short, and then he – as the host; he knew his duty and stuck to it however painful – he might have to give these lasses what they were asking for.
‘Come along in, and have some tea!’ he managed to say after taking a deep breath.
‘A kiss would suit me better, if it is all the same to you,’ said Niphredil with a heave of her bosom. ‘I don’t mind some heavy petting either – if you’ve ever kissed a lass before.’
‘Lots!’ Frodo found himself answering, to his surprise; and he found himself kissing Niphredil rather passionately.

When they had rearranged their clothing and returned to the table, Niphredil and Pearl began talking at the table like old friends (as a matter of fact they were sisters). Frodo plumped down some beer and cheesecake in front of them, when loud came a ring at the bell again, and then another ring.
‘Gandalf for certain this time,’ he thought as he raced along the passage. But it was not. It was two more lasses, both with blue hoods, silver belts, and yellow dresses, and each of them carried a bag of clothes and a suitcase. In they hopped, as soon as the door began to open – Frodo was hardly surprised at all.
‘What can I do for you, my lasses?’ he said.
‘Narya at your service!’ said the one. ‘And Chica!’ added the other; and they both swept off their blue hoods and kissed him.
‘At yours and your family’s!’ replied Frodo, remembering his manners this time and kissing them back.
‘Pearl and Niphredil are here already, I see,’ said Narya. ‘Let us join the throng!’
‘Throng!’ thought Mr Baggins. ‘I don’t like the sound of that. I really must sit down for a minute and collect my wits, and have a drink.’ He had only just had a sip – while the four lasses sat round him, and talked about how they were going to look after him and how they were going to share the appointment book, and lots of other things which he did not understand, and did not want to, for they sounded much too adventurous – when, ding-dong-a-ling-dang, his bell rang again, as if some naughty elf was trying to pull the handle off.
‘Someone at the door!’ he said, blinking.
‘Some four, I should say by the sound,’ said Chica. ‘Besides, we saw them coming along behind us in the distance.’

The astonished Frodo sat down in the hall and wondered what had happened, but the bell rang again louder than ever, and he had to run to the door. It was not four after all, it was FIVE. Another lass had come along while he was wondering in the hall. He had hardly turned the knob, before they were all inside, smiling and purring ‘at your service’ one after another. Hewene, Spork, Elda, Elevensies and Lily were their names, and very soon two purple hoods, a silver hood, a pink hood, and a white hood were hanging on the pegs, and off they marched with Frodo to join the others. Already it had almost become a throng. Some kissed his hair, and some his face, and one his neck, and all of them his lips, so the hobbit was kept very busy for a while.
A number of buttons had landed in the hearth, his waistcoat was gone, and the lasses were starting on his breeches when there came – a loud knock. Not a ring, but a hard rat-tat on the hobbit’s beautiful green door. Somebody was banging with a stick!
Frodo rushed along the passage, very flustered, and altogether bewildered and bebothered – this was the most awkward situation he ever remembered. He pulled open the door with a jerk, and they all fell in on top of him. More lasses, many more! (They weren’t complaining, I can tell you.) And there was Gandalf behind, leaning on his staff and laughing. He had made quite a dent on the beautiful door; he had also, by the way, knocked out the secret mark that he had put there the morning before.
‘Carefully! Carefully!’ he said. ‘It is not like you, Frodo, to keep friends waiting on the mat, and then open the door like a pop-gun! I’m not going to introduce all these just yet, except Gorbag.’
‘Hello, Frodo,’ said the lasses happily, getting up and putting their hoods on pegs. The only non-lass was Gorbag, a most important Orc, who was not at all pleased at falling flat on Frodo’s mat with all the lasses on top of him. For one thing, an enormous pile of Haremites is extremely heavy. Gorbag indeed was rather peeved, and said he shouldn’t be treated like that when he was on a diet, but the lasses said they were sorry so many times, that at last he grunted ‘pray don’t mention it,’ and stopped scowling.

__________________
Coveting in the LUST PALACE!!!! - Eldalieva.

The soul of The Two Towers is in Frodo's anguished face. - Russell Swensen, LA Weekly.

O! Gil-Galad was a poncy king
Of him the jesters madly sing
The last whose realm had vodka free
Between the mountains and the sea... - Jussacgirl, LOTR Big Brother.

Last edited by Peachy on 06-19-2003 at 03:41 AM

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Registered: Feb 2002
Location: Thrall of the Nutella Curls
Posts: 472

(((((Peachy & Harem)))))

I wonder if they have clear skies on the Camping Hoot and can see the stars? Stars are the theme of the filk I was struggling with. Thanks for all the Harem vibes. I did my best, but it was a bit of a silly undertaking, and indeed based upon a misunderstanding.

You see, I thought Gil-Galad BECAME a star for his heroism, just as Eärendil (kind of) became a star - or at least his ship did. I thought there WAS a star of Gil-Galad, but in fact his NAME means "Star of Radiance", and it is said to have fallen into darkness "in Mordor where there shadows are", as the three verses sung by Sam at Weathertop put it. The stars were only mirrored on his shield.

I had it all completely wrong, but I'd based a whole filk around it! I don't mean I thought that Elbereth had a new year's honours list, or anything, but I thought she put up stars as emblems for heroes or people who had made great sacrifices, like Gil-Galad.

And within the above theory, I always liked to hope, deep inside, that Frodo became represented by a star one day. Soppy, I guess.

Anyway, please forgive me. I thought maybe the song could still vaguely apply, in a loose sense. I don't go around singing songs from "Fame" (I did back in 1981, but that's another story - so did practically all the girls my age at the time!) - but I think "The Body Electric" is an exceptionally stirring song. (Blushes) - and I can never hear it without thinking of the Ainulindalë.

THE HYMN OF CREATION

(Tune: “I Sing The Body Electric”)

Yavanna:
I sing the Hymn of Creation
Earth-midwife to conception and birth

Ulmo:
I rise in waves of ablution
Divide and encircle the earth.

Varda:
I light up the heavens above Eldamar
And I herald the chosen of Ilúvatar
For I know that in time they will all be stars.

Eärendil:
I steer the prow of the Dreamflower
They say I am the Courser on High:
I gaze in rapt adoration
As Elwing embraces the sky!
And though Silmarils perish and Eä be marred
Still the Light Everlasting burns fierce from afar
For they call me Eärendil, the Evening Star.

Gil-Galad:
I bore the spear named Aeglos
I fought upon the Dagorlad plain:
A king of men fought beside me
Elendil the Tall was his name.
But Fingon’s son perished, far from Eglamar
Consumed on the dark slopes of Aman Amarth
And his radiance died with the Northern Star.

Manwë:
The Ainulindalë was sung
And the themes were played
But still Eru’s full purpose
Is unfolding …

Varda:
He bore a Phial of Radiance
He shone e’en with the light of Aman!
He cried to me for deliverance:
I called him at last to this land!
Hath anguish no meaning? Hath pain no release?
Take comfort, Ringbearer; here shalt thou find peace.
And in time, and in time

The Valar:
And in time, and in time

Varda:
And in time, and in time
You will see:

Yavanna:
I sowed the seeds of Creation
I celebrated life yet to come!

Aulë:
I wrought the lamps of the heavens:
Now Arien chariots the sun!

Varda:
Telperion’s light is by Tilion drawn
Alcarinquë burns still, herald of the Firstborn

The Valar:
And in time Arda Marred
Shall be healed of her scars
And in time, and in time

They will all be stars.

Last edited by Niphredil on 06-18-2003 at 05:20 PM

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Registered: Sep 2002
Location: Buying it wholesale and passing the savings on to you!
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quote:

---

Originally posted by Peachy
he might have to give these lasses what they were asking for.

---

Muahahahahahahahahah!! Darn straight!!



Well, it's not quite done yet, but I've got the fixin's for a little camping vignette in my notebook... Perhaps I will transcribe & complete it tonight!

__________________
"I always trust my instincts. Even if they're wrong, because wrong things happen for a reason too." -- Alan Cumming, Tommy's Tale
"Um... I can't find my husband or my beeper... have you seen either one of them?" -- Clair, "The Anniversary Party"
"Some people will never know anything beyond what they see with their own eyes." -- Nightcrawler, "X2"
"I am INVINCIBLE!!" -- Boris Grishenko, "GoldenEye"
"There's someone out there for everyone - even if you need a pickaxe, a compass, and night goggles to find them." -- Harris K. Telemacher, "L.A. Story"
"Fifteen!" -- Amélie

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Registered: Sep 2002
Location: The deep end of the crazy pool
Posts: 883

quote:

---

and they both swept off their blue hoods and kissed him......Some kissed his hair, and some his face, and one his neck, and all of them his lips, so the hobbit was kept very busy for a while.

---

Peachy, it just keeps getting better and better (if that is at all possible!) How utterly divine! (And I got a blue hood! WooHoo!)

quote:

---

Take comfort, Ringbearer; here shalt thou find peace...And in time Arda Marred
Shall be healed of her scars

---

Niph, you have a gift of great heart.

Spork - you go girl! I can hardly wait!

And I have one for the lurkers waiting in the wings...

__________________
Walk to Rivendell - 123 / 458 miles

"I can manage it," said Frodo. "I must."

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Registered: Aug 2002
Location: Walking to Rivendell with Frodo
Posts: 185

Peachy, your a wonder! How do you come up with such great vignettes? Love them all!

Elanoth, so sorry to hear about your loss. As the others have said, he sounds like he led a full life and passed away doing what he loved surrounded by those he loved. {{{Hugs}}}

Thanks for checking in Meryl! Sounds like ya'll are having fun! Hope the weather is cooperating! Tata and an Axe? Heeheehee! Must remember to bring one to KC. :P

Spork, can't wait for your vignette. I wrote one at work, but it needs some editing! I have to scratch out some of it since it was less than PG-rated!

Oh, Quicksilver, loves those pics! *sigh*

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Proud member of the F.L.F. and the IC.
There is no such thing as too much Sean Bean.
Walk to Rivendell: 85/458

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Peachmeister!!!!! I loff and loff your "how the harem came to BEWTE" tale!

Very funny! It has a touch of the Hobbit to it but instead of intrusive dwarves we have 'affectionate' haremites. And Gandalf making trouble as usual.

BTW I want my cloak to be violet-blue to match the Squires eyes. And lookit what I added to my sig!

Meryl- So things seem to be going nicely at the hoot. Good to hear it. What do you all have planned for the rest of the week?
Keep us updated.

Spork- Fork over your vignette! This I gotta see! Get's out fire extinguisher.

__________________
“Sorry! I don’t want any Harem, thank you. But please come to tea - any time you like! Why not tomorrow! Come tomorrow! Goodbye!”- Peachy

EW... Nostril actor extraordinaire!
"He paused for a moment in the candlelit room,his room, to be grateful for rest and comfort and a quiet supper by the fire, and for the small, good things that stay the same, though all the world may change." Elda
"There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow men. True nobility lies in being superior to your former self.”-Elijah

"But the enthusiasm of the fans is great though. And I'll thank the lord if they are female and originate from Spain!" Elijah in Spanish interview

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The fire has burned down to glowing coals, though every now and then someone will add another log and stir the sparks to dancing again. A few of your sisters have moved away from the fire to lie on the soft grass and listen to Patricia point out the stars -- there are so many of them, out here away from all the lights. You lean back against a boulder and listen to the rest of your sisters laughing at a story told over the last of the marshmallows.

Frodo sits at the edge of the firelight. His pipe is in his hand, but he isn't smoking -- just running a finger along the smooth-polished rim as if thinking about filling it. The light of the dying coals flickers across his face, alternately lighting and shadowing the hollow of his cheek. You watch the edge of the light, fascinated, and fantasize about following its path with your fingertip, or maybe even...

He glances up at you as if he can feel the touch of your gaze, and you redden suddenly. He lifts his eyebrows slightly, and you speak to cover your embarrassment.

"What are you thinking about, Frodo?"

He smiles slightly, and makes a slight gesture that encompasses the entire group. "Just this... it is good to be around all of you."

__________________
In a forum on the Net there lived a Harem. Not a brainless, silly, fangurl’s harem, filled with the squeals of the illiterate and endless drooling, nor yet a dry, bare, academic harem with nothing in it to laugh about or to eat: it was a hobbit-harem, and that means comfort. --Peachy

walk to Rivendell: 60 of 458 miles

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Location: Tart headquarters
Posts: 613

Niph, I dunno the tune, but LOVE it regardless.
Each of them should be made into individual poems of the day or something.
``````
Meryl, tyvm for the report, how fun! I was going to have a trivia contest at the July Hoot, thinking what and original idea I had NOT. oh well. Not that I know Tolkien trivia, but I have the books as a good source.
``````````

quote:

---

just running a finger along the smooth-polished rim

---

Yoiks and double Yoiks. If I were wearing undies, they for sure would be on fire. (hate panty lines with a passion)

peace out

__________________
In place of a Dark Lord, you will have Moggy! ~oh yeah, loon comes with the deal~
```````````````````````````

FRODO LIVES........... with us
BEWTE

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Registered: Jan 2003
Location: Horny, hellbound and happy in the Harem with Meryl Marie
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Queenie has no knickers! Queenie needs no knickers!

(((Mel))), I luuuuurve that.

(((Niphy))), that song gave me five sets of goosebumps. I counted. You’ve improved on The Body Electric. And it’s a lovely idea. Varda, can you hear me?

Spork, Quicksilver, can’t wait for your vignettes! I bet they rock!

‘Now we are all here!’ said Gandalf. ‘Quite a merry gathering! I hope there is something left for the latecomers to eat and drink! What’s that? Tea? No thank you! A little red wine, I think, for me.’
“And a shag and a massage,” said one lass.
“And a bath in front of the fire,” said another.
“And a snog and a - ouch! There’s nothing wrong with that word!”
“PG site,” muttered the other Haremite.
‘And a cuddle - and hugs - and some more snogs, if you don’t mind,’ called the other lasses through the door.
‘Seem to know as much about my talents as I do myself!’ thought Mr Baggins, who was feeling positively flummoxed.
By the time he had given the lasses more kisses, he was getting very hot, and red in the face. But before he could say ‘knife’ the lasses had whisked him into the parlour and started everything afresh.
Gandalf sat at the head of the table, and Frodo sat on a stool at the fireside nibbling at an earlobe (his appetite was starting to return) and trying to look as if this was all perfectly ordinary and not in the least peculiar. The lasses ate cheesecake, and talked, and time got on. At last they pushed their chairs back.
‘I suppose you will all stay to supper?’ Frodo said, and jumped as a lass ran her foot up his leg.
‘Of course!’ said Pearl. ‘And after. You shan’t get through everyone till late, and we must have some music first. Now to clear up!’
Thereupon the lasses - not Gorbag, he was setting up his hammock, and stayed talking to Gandalf - jumped to their feet, and made tall piles of all the things. Off they went with Frodo, not waiting for trays, while Frodo stammered; ‘please, don’t trouble! I can manage.’ But the lasses only started to sing:

Chipping glasses and cracking plates!
Shaking tables and rattling forks!
that’s what Frodo’s love creates -
Smashing bottles and burning corks!

Tear his clothes and knock him flat!
Roll around on the pantry floor!
Have him twice on the bedroom mat!
Make a racket behind the door!

Kiss him after an evening stroll;
Pound him like you’re a thumping pole;
And when you’ve finished, if you’re still whole,
Down the hall you’re going to roll!

That’s what Frodo’s love creates!
So that’s why BEWTE has cracked plates!

Of course they did not do any of these things straight away. Everything was cleaned and put away safe as quick as lightning, while Frodo was turning round and round in the middle of the kitchen trying to see what they were doing. Then they went back to the parlour, and found Gandalf smoking a pipe and Gorbag eating a cheese sandwich.
‘Now for some music!’ said a lass. ‘Bring out the instruments!’
Stormy and Mel rushed for their bags and brought back little fiddles, Ghyste, Opaline and Tata brought out flutes from somewhere inside their dresses, Pearl produced chains from her bag and was told to put them back again, and a couple of lasses went out and came back with clarinets. Maeglian and Mariole came back with viols as big as themselves, and with Talagwen’s harp wrapped in a green cloth. It was a beautiful golden harp, and when Tala struck it the music began all at once, and they began to sing again.

Far over the misty mountains cold
from dungeons deep and caverns old
We ran away ere break of day,
To seek the hobbit we wish to hold.

His beauty has cast mighty spells,
his voice is clear as ringing bells
Our love is deep, and so we’ll sleep,
right here in BEWTE where he dwells.

No ancient king nor elvish lord
Could win away this happy horde
Their love was wrought, their passion caught
by one sweet hobbit they adored.

Like silver necklaces all strung
Like flowering stars, and crowns, they hung
like dragon-fire, in twisted wire
upon their love, their moon and sun.

Far over the misty mountains cold
from dungeons deep and caverns old
We ran away ere break of day,
To seek the hobbit we wish to hold.

A niche they carved there for themselves
with love untold; where no man delves
There stayed they long, and many a song
was sung unheard by men or elves.

They knew his perils on the height,
Of painful groaning in the night,
The One Ring’s dread, its anguish spread;
Its fire like torches blazed with light.

Of trumpets sounding in the dale,
when men looked up with faces pale;
And Sauron’s ire more fierce than fire
Laid low their towers and houses frail.

The mountain smoked beneath the moon
The hobbits heard the tramp of doom.
Then loosed the thrall, to dying fall
Beneath their feet, beneath the moon.

Far over the misty mountains grim
From dungeons deep and caverns dim
We came away ere break of day
And we will never part from him!

__________________
Coveting in the LUST PALACE!!!! - Eldalieva.

The soul of The Two Towers is in Frodo's anguished face. - Russell Swensen, LA Weekly.

O! Gil-Galad was a poncy king
Of him the jesters madly sing
The last whose realm had vodka free
Between the mountains and the sea... - Jussacgirl, LOTR Big Brother.

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Location: Rushing hither and yon ....
Posts: 891

I just realized that I meant to wish Ellin luck with her dissertation (been there, done that, never again!!! ). I hope everything goes well ... it's quite a stressful time I know.

Mel - love your vignette! And of course, Peachy's revisitation of the beginning of the Hobbit has been wonderful. -- Niphy, you sounded positively apologetic with your revisitation of the Body Electric -- but it was lovely too!

It's been a 'day' here, for no reason at all. Just regular work stuff I suppose, and all the (forseen and not forseen) *stuff* going on right now with SIL's wedding prep, and the funeral, and company coming ... Hubby and I had our second anniversary today and decided we had enough going on, being married to each other was gift enough. It was a relief not to have to add *that* to the overfilled platter of things to do!

In sum ... it's a good night to sit and listen to Patricia's explication of the stars, eat some s'mores, and watch the sparks dance up into the air above the fire, as if they're trying to reach the stars above us.

((Harem)) ((Camping Haremites)) ((HaremDudes)) ((Lurkers))

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Last edited by elanorh on 06-16-2003 at 11:30 PM

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Registered: Nov 2002
Location: In complete agreement with what they just said.
Posts: 31

Was that Stormy??

Mel! Your viginette was firey!!

Spork, I'm waiting in anticipation for your viginette! Which means you have to post it, because I have my hopes up...
Quicksilver, too!

Niphredil, that filk was so beautiful and epic, perfect for the subject matter, though I haven't heard the song. It sounded like something that Elves might sing in church, if you follow me.

Peachy, I think you could re-write a good portion of The Hobbit! And I would love to read it!! :not worthy:

All these vigs are so wonderful, I am in awe of the collective talent of the Harem! (As always!)

Meryl, so glad to hear that the non-virtual camping trip is going well, I hope we hear more from that front soon! And of course no-one here wishes they were there...we're having a wonderful camping trip right here!!

quote:

---

And I have one for the lurkers waiting in the wings...

---

Narya, should we be concerned?


edit: Happy Aniversary, Elanorh!

__________________
"How can The Strokes be a garage band if no one in New York City has a garage?" -Spork
"There are nice boys to watch in the film....boys for every generation, really."-Miranda Otto

I used to think I was indecisive, but now I’m not too sure.

Last edited by DaisyTighfield on 06-16-2003 at 11:36 PM

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Registered: Sep 2002
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You know, I probably shouldn't have said anything, because now everyone has high expectations!

Stormy!!
*glomps Stormy*
*hug-tackles Stormy*
*dipsmooches Stormy*

Great to see ya

Peachy, yet again, I am NOT WORTHY!!

For some reason, I just lurve the image of Gorby eating a cheese sandwich

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"I always trust my instincts. Even if they're wrong, because wrong things happen for a reason too." -- Alan Cumming, Tommy's Tale
"Um... I can't find my husband or my beeper... have you seen either one of them?" -- Clair, "The Anniversary Party"
"Some people will never know anything beyond what they see with their own eyes." -- Nightcrawler, "X2"
"I am INVINCIBLE!!" -- Boris Grishenko, "GoldenEye"
"There's someone out there for everyone - even if you need a pickaxe, a compass, and night goggles to find them." -- Harris K. Telemacher, "L.A. Story"
"Fifteen!" -- Amélie

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Registered: Sep 2002
Location: The deep end of the crazy pool
Posts: 883

Spork, we are hobbits, not professors - we have very reasonable expectations, I assure you, and much love for our fellow Haremites, whether they choose to share their writing or not. We're just thrilled you are thinking of putting your feet in the water, so to speak.

Elanorh, Happy Anniversary! It already sounds much lovelier than my second anniversary... but that is another story entirely, and most certainly will never clutter up Frodo's fine thread.

quote:

---

Tear his clothes and knock him flat!
Roll around on the pantry floor!
Have him twice on the bedroom mat!
Make a racket behind the door!

---

I might have to put that one up in my office - think I'll be cited for harassment??

Cairi - you scratched out the non-PG? Well, you can always borrow some of Peachy's store of innuendo to get you through the parts you had to cut...then we wants to see it, yes we do!

Not to worry, Daisy - unless you are frightened of length, as it keeps growing. Actually, I am celebrating my one year anniversary of de-lurking, and plan to post a little present for all of today's lurkers as a sort of celebration for finding my home here.

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Walk to Rivendell - 123 / 458 miles

"I can manage it," said Frodo. "I must."

Last edited by Narya Celebrian on 06-16-2003 at 11:44 PM

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Registered: Sep 2002
Location: Buying it wholesale and passing the savings on to you!
Posts: 535

Well, before I post this, I'd like to make some things known:
1) Narya, this is ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT! Darn poster-of-plot-bunnies!!
2) I haven't done creative fiction writing since my junior year in high school. Yeah. So I'm rather rusty
3) This was written whilst listening to, in order, The Crystal Method, Depeche Mode, and Bjork. Blame them, too.

*deep breath* OK, here it is!
*hides under a rock*

In the deepening twilight, the campfire casts vibrant, dancing shadows on the trees surrounding your clearing. You sit at the fire’s edge, perched atop a soft linen blanket. Not long ago, your sisters had invited you to accompany them for a cool evening dip at the river’s edge. You had declined, preferring instead to lay here, running your fingers absently through the grass while soaking up the fire’s warmth.

How beautiful it was here! How peaceful! You could sit here forever, enmeshed in Tol Eressëa’s simple sensory delights: the cool caress of the wind ruffling your skirts, the earthy, vibrant scent of the living forest around you, the faint chirping of the crickets, the pleasure of numbering the stars as they slowly peek through evening’s indigo veil. And, especially, the taste of marshmallows.

Marshmallows! Your breath catches as you remember your true purpose for staying behind: a small cache of white fluffy goodness in your picnic basket just waiting for a good roasting fire! With everyone off swimming, no-one will rib you, however good-naturedly, on your preference for, as you like to say, “marshmallows au feu.” Burnt to a crisp! Ha! you think, that’s the only way to eat marshmallows! None of this namby-pamby toasting nonsense!

You giggle wickedly as you reach for your roasting stick -- a willow wand carefully peeled, sharpened, and forked. “And now, my sugary friend, you are mine!” you cackle as you skewer a plump marshmallow, pausing to lick sugar dust from your fingertips.

You thrust your quarry into the heart of the flames, where it promptly ignites. Your attention is so focused on your quickly charring snack that you entirely fail to notice muffled footsteps stealthily creeping towards your turned back.

“What in the world are you cooking?” a soft voice purrs in your ear as a hand brushes your hair aside. Startled out of your wits, you gasp and whip around to face the voice. Unfortunately, you forget what you are holding, and your marshmallow, now little more than a blackened lump, goes sailing off into the trees like an overcooked kamikaze!

You wistfully watch your erstwhile treat land in a bush and turn to face your unexpected companion. “Frodo!” you pout, “you made me throw my marshmallow!”

Is that what that was?!” he asks incredulously. “It certainly did not look like a marshmallow to me!” He sits back on his haunches, gazing at you with an expression that can only be described as equal parts skepticism and merriment.

You blink at him as the absurdity and humor of the situation suddenly occurs to you. All at once, you are unable to control your giggles. You drop your roasting stick and fall onto your back, hooting like an owl, tears streaming down your face, while Frodo stares at you bemusedly. Then, your mirth catches, and he falls back and laughs with you.

When your peals of laughter subside, you prop yourself up on one elbow and look down upon him. The firelight casts a primal, flickering light which reflects in his eyes, and you can still smell him, clean and marvelous, over the heady scent of smoke and earth. “My Lord,” you murmur as you twist your little finger around one of his sable curls, “I thought you knew I like my marshmallows burnt! Everyone teases me for it, but they just haven’t tried it. Have you?”

He gazes at you, and the intense expression in his eyes makes your pulse quicken. “I am sorry to say that I have not. Will you make me one to show me what I have missed?” he replies, a small, slightly naughty smile gracing his lips. Oh Eru, those wonderful, perfect, delicious lips.

“Of course,” you quickly say, flushing. You sit up on your knees, find your roasting stick, and fish another marshmallow from your basket. As you skewer and cook it, you talk to him, managing to keep the quiver from your voice, but only just. “I love how, if the marshmallow is done just right, the outside is burnt and crisp, but the inside is hot and gooey. Then, you get to lick it off your fingers. That is half the fun right there. Ah! It is done!”

You retrieve the marshmallow from the fire, blow off any embers remaining, and pull it off the stick. Frodo sits up and reaches for it, but you tap his hand away. “Oh, no you don’t!” you say. “You cost me one perfectly good marshmallow! Your penance is thus: You will be fed this one by me!”

Quirking an eyebrow, Frodo grins wickedly at you and opens his mouth. You slowly feed him the marshmallow and watch, enraptured, as a drop of molten sugar lands on his lower lip. His tongue snakes out to catch it, but you clear your throat loudly and he stops, grinning. “Allow me,” you whisper, as you bring your mouth to his . . . .

__________________
"I always trust my instincts. Even if they're wrong, because wrong things happen for a reason too." -- Alan Cumming, Tommy's Tale
"Um... I can't find my husband or my beeper... have you seen either one of them?" -- Clair, "The Anniversary Party"
"Some people will never know anything beyond what they see with their own eyes." -- Nightcrawler, "X2"
"I am INVINCIBLE!!" -- Boris Grishenko, "GoldenEye"
"There's someone out there for everyone - even if you need a pickaxe, a compass, and night goggles to find them." -- Harris K. Telemacher, "L.A. Story"
"Fifteen!" -- Amélie

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Registered: Sep 2002
Location: The deep end of the crazy pool
Posts: 883

Spork!!! You did it! And it's wonderful, and fun, and....hot! I definitely do not mind this being MY fault!

I realized last night that sometime around this actual day last year I made my very first post in the Harem, after months of lurking. I did so with trepidation; with a fair measure of fear that I wouldn't measure up to the wonderful women it had been my pleasure to watch from a safe distance; and with a firm intent to return to lurk mode again. Well, I haven't stopped gabbing since. So I got thinking about lurkers and camping, and another plot bunny was born. (Honestly, I have more rabbits than I'll ever be able to stew. ) So to celebrate my de-lurking anniversary, and to honor all those who still (or mostly) sit quietly watching, I give you the following.



You no longer remember the moment when you first knew you were drawn to him. You do remember the struggle to suppress your feelings, and the long conversations with yourself, trying to convince your heart to renounce the call to seek him over the seas. But as many before you had discovered, that call plumbed depths beyond both reason and argument. Everything he had done, everything that he was, filled you with longing, though you had not yet spoken his name out loud.

You dared not tell a soul, and you struggled against your yearning heart while ordinary days passed, colored with a sense that you had lost something not yet found. And then one sleepless night, staring into a darkness whose edges held mysteries, you heard a voice. It said, quite simply, “Come.”

From that moment on, there was no turning back. It was simpler than you had imagined, ceding your heart to this call, and each step in the preparation and journey transpired so easily that all doubt vanished from your mind. The shipwright knew why you were there, and so many had gone before you over the years that a special cabin had now been set aside in his great ship for those traveling across the sea to join the Ringbearer. On the shores of Tol Eressea you were greeted with gentle courtesy by the elves, and without question or enquiry they gave you good lodging for a night, and then food for your journey.

How had your resolve, your confidence, disappeared that day as you finally drew near to him? You have run through a hundred reasons in your mind, many of them with much merit, but in the end the reason does not matter. Approaching Bag End West as twilight fell, you stopped outside to listen to the sound of voices that spilled out of the open windows and touched your heart like rain on dry earth. You yearned to join in, to lift the knocker and make yourself known to him and to those who had been drawn here to be with him, but you could not.

Days passed, and each day at twilight you approached the door again, and stayed a little longer, listening to the conversations that flowed like rivers, and listening for the sound of his voice. Yet each day you turned back, still silent, finding much contentment in being so close. While the conviction grew in your mind that this was exactly the right place for you, the longer you waited, the harder it became to make yourself known. From a distance you heard his voice, and watched him in the garden, and grew to know many of those who lived here with him; but still you could not enter.

The elves continued to provide you with lodging, and food, and all the simple comforts you desired. One day, returning confused and a little hurt from another unseen journey to the door of Bag End West, you asked why.

“You belong here.” You looked up, startled. “On Tol Eressea,” the elf continued. “None can take ship to this land unless they are meant to be here. Some go to Bag End West right away, but those are the rare ones. Most, like you, find they cannot, and they live for a while with us, until the time is right for them.”

“But all those lasses!” you cried. “They live with him like…well, like they had lived with him forever! Surely none of them ever felt like this – like they want so much to be there, and yet cannot enter.”

He smiled gently. “Most of them, actually. Only a very few go to live there right away. Most do as you have, and watch from a distance for a while. There is a great mystery about that place that even we do not fully understand, though we have come to know it’s ways, and the ways of the folk that are drawn towards him. There are many, waiting for the day when they are ready to make themselves known.. ”

“There are others like me? Right now?”

“Oh yes, and some have been here even longer than you. They are as shy of being seen as you are. Some declare themselves content merely to be on the same Isle as Frodo, though they will be drawn towards Bag End West periodically, and many eventually do enter. Some, like you, are waiting for a moment that has not yet come.”

*******

Time passed, and you witnessed others knock on that door and be welcomed