Sophinisba Solis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sophinisba) wrote2007-05-03 12:30 pm
sophinisba) wrote2007-05-03 12:30 pm
Entry tags:
writing meme
I'm not actually feeling at all creative right now, but I am feeling kind of lonely, hence the spam. Here is a fun meme gacked from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
schemingreader, almostnever, and kissing_athelas, among others:
Name three fics you think I will never, ever, ever write. In return (and if inspired), I will attempt to write a snippet of one of them.
ETA: I'm going out for a few hours. Thanks so much for coming to cheer me up, girls. Keep 'em coming, please. And feel free to write your own crack in the comments if you feel so inspired.
ETA: Back. Eh, who cares about term papers when there is crackfic to write?
schemingreader, almostnever, and kissing_athelas, among others: Name three fics you think I will never, ever, ever write. In return (and if inspired), I will attempt to write a snippet of one of them.
ETA: I'm going out for a few hours. Thanks so much for coming to cheer me up, girls. Keep 'em coming, please. And feel free to write your own crack in the comments if you feel so inspired.
ETA: Back. Eh, who cares about term papers when there is crackfic to write?
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Fics you would never write--I don't know enough about your fics! Er...How about:
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Mead Taken at the Inn at Bree
Hagrid Crashes an Entmoot
House Elves at the Grey Havens
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While I think about these prompts, allow me to rec
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so the first part of the Bree fic
"Which, the one with the..." Spectacles, Pippin didn't say out loud, because once he was looking the boy in the face he knew just why Merry had pointed him out, and why Merry was staring more than he tended to do.
"He looks..." Pippin tried.
"He looks a bit out of place," Merry finished.
"More than a little bit. He looks as lost as we were the first time we came to Bree."
"Yes, yes he does."
"I say, he almost looks as small among these ruffians."
Merry nodded. "Taller, of course. But he doesn't eat enough, I'd wager. You know how skimpy some of these big folk are with their food."
"And with their ale as well."
"I think he could use some company."
"Perhaps he'd rather be left alone."
"I don't think so."
And once Merry had taken this kind of decision there wasn't much use in arguing with him, nor was Pippin inclined to do so, for he was just as curious to meet the boy who so reminded them both of Frodo when seen across the room. Of Frodo as they'd known him once, the brave but uncertain friend who'd stopped in this tavern on their journey out, not the broken and distant one who'd stayed here on the way back.
Merry offered to buy him a drink.
"I've already got my goblet of mead, thank you," said the boy, politely enough, but not looking them in the eye.
"All right then, allow us to buy you a meal, why don't you?"
"And we'll join in as well," said Pippin. "We've eaten already, but being hobbits we don't mind having some more."
"Excuse me?"
"You're not from these parts, are you," said Merry, as Pippin motioned to Butterbur. "You haven't seen Halflings before. Do you come from the south?"
"I'm... Yes, the south."
"No," said Pippin, "Merry, he's not from our Middle-earth at all. How did you come to Bree, young sir? I don't believe you came on foot."
The boy hung his head. "I probably shouldn't tell you this... but for some reason I trust you two."
"Yes, we're very trustworthy, Merry and I are. Not that you should go telling your life story to the first strangers you meet in Bree, but you've nothing to fear from us."
"I was trying to get to Hogsmeade, you see, but I had some trouble with the Floo Network before, but I thought I had it worked out by now."
"Anyone can make a mistake," said Merry encouragingly, though it was clear to Pippin that he had no more idea than Pippin of what they were talking about. "All roads do seem to lead to Bree, don't they?"
"Er, I suppose so."
[and then um there is some more but now I need to go to bed... Thank you for playing!]
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"The Shire?" Harry repeated.
"You really are lost, aren't you, lad?" said the other little man. "Don't mind my cousin. He likes to think we're important, but mostly we come here because we like the company, and the large portions of food and drink."
"Let's not be strangers anymore," said the first, grinning at his friend. "My name is Meriadoc Brandybuck."
"And I'm Paladin Took," he stood up in order to bow slightly, "at your service and your family's. And you should call me Pippin and him Merry."
"I'm Harry," he said, shaking their hands. And, quietly, with a glance at the tall men surrounding them, he finished, "Harry Potter."
"Splendid," said Merry, not raising an eyebrow upon hearing the name. "I think we should talk, Harry, and share a meal, as Pippin says, but we'd best go back to our own room, since you never know who might be listening here in the common-room."
Pippin had got up and appeared to be giving instructions to another one of the little men – a good deal shorter than him and Merry, actually.
"We need to put some food in you before you get drunk on mead and start dancing on the tables," Marry said good-naturedly. "Come with us then."
Harry was quiet as they led him up the stairs, and he gripped his wand hidden under the long sleeve us his robe. But it really was a relief to be alone with these two after spending the last hour (since he'd stepped out of the fireplace as surreptitiously as he could manage) sipping his goblet of mead and being stared at by a dozen big burly men. Merry and Pippin weren't like Harry but they were a lot less frightening than anyone else around here. In fact, Harry wouldn't be frightened of them at all if he weren't completely lost and uncertain of ever finding his way home.
By the time they made it to their room and closed the door Harry felt he couldn't keep silent any longer. "Look," he blurted out, "I know this place can't be Muggle, but it isn't magical either, is it? I mean, you two aren't... wizards, are you?"
"Wizards? Gracious, no!" said Pippin, laughing loudly. But it wasn't the way the Muggles Harry knew would laugh if he talked about magic.
Merry, who was watching Harry carefully and hadn't laughed, said, "We had dealings with Wizards once, but that was years ago."
So there was still a chance they could help him. "Who were the wizards you knew?" Harry asked.
"Gandalf the Grey was our friend," said Merry.
"And Saruman the White was not," added Pippin.
"I see," said Harry. "And if I mentioned Albus Dumbledore, the, er... silver and purple?"
They stared at him blankly. Well, if they hadn't heard of Harry Potter it wasn't too surprising that they wouldn't know Dumbledore either. Still, he thought he should give it another try. "Erm, Sirius Black?" He tried to think of Lavender Brown's father's name but couldn't remember it. "Something... Brown?"
"Sorry," said Pippin.
"No, wait," said Merry, "Gandalf had a friend called Radagast the Brown. He's the only Wizard I can think of who might still be here in Middle-earth and willing to help us. I haven't a clue where he is now, but if you like we can send out word tomorrow."
"We have friends among the Elves as well, you see," said Pippin. And the pride with which he said it made Harry think elves were probably not the same thing here as they were in his own world. And for that matter there was no reason to think that wizards were the same thing here either. Harry still couldn't remember Lavender's father's name but he knew for certain it wasn't Radagast.
"Only one left in the world?" he said.
"If Gandalf had been the only one we ever met, that would have been much better for all of us, I think," said Pippin. Merry frowned at him but said nothing.
"Well, you've met one more of them now," said Harry.
"Sorry?" said Pippin.
Then a knock came at the door.
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*SNERK* That was great. So is Radagast the Brown, father of Lavender. Will there be more to this madness? :D
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Merry opened the door, still watching Harry, who at this moment reminded him of a turtle who'd just slowly begun to poke out his head and then retreated back into his shell.
"Here you are, sirs," said Nob, struggling under the weight of tray and pitcher. "Will you be needing anything else?"
"You've arranged for a room for Harry?" said Pippin.
"The single one at the end of the hall – I think you know it, so you can show your friend there yourselves if you'd rather not wait around for me."
"Thank you, Nob," said Merry. He smiled warmly at their old friend. He'd never forgotten the help he'd had from him on their first night in Bree, his first brush with the Black Breath. They saw each other every few years now and sometimes found time for a chat while other times Nob was too rushed to work by an impatient Butterbur, and on other occasions Merry and Pippin found themselves occupied with other acquaintances, old and new. But Nob was always there, ready to offer his help with a quiet smile. Merry thought him a very fine hobbit and it made him glad to think that Men passing through Bree, who perhaps would never have met a hobbit before, would have a good impression when they met Nob. He hoped that Harry thought well of hobbits so far from having met him and Pippin.
At the moment Harry was staring at Pippin, who'd set in on the pork chops before Nob closed the door again.
"Eat up, lad," said Merry. "We can't have you starving when you're in our company," even if the people who are supposed to take care of you clearly aren't feeding you well.
"I... I was meaning to tell you something." But he picked up his fork anyway. No one could resist Peony's cooking, Merry thought, even if he did think what he had to say and do was the most important thing in the world.
Merry knew a thing or two about that. "It sounded like you were about to tell us that you were a wizard," he said, watching Harry's eyes widen behind his spectacles and wondering suddenly whether, had Frodo stayed, he'd have aged enough to want spectacles by now, and what his eyes would look like behind them. "I can't say that doesn't seem strange to me – you don't look much like the wizards we've met, for one thing."
Pippin nodded. "They both had great grey beards, you know."
"A lot of them do where I come from too," said Harry. "Just not, you know, the ones who are sixteen years old. Or the women."
Merry chuckled. "And where you come from is a lot farther away than Gondor or Harad or even Valinor, I think." The names clearly meant nothing to the boy, but they were understanding each other anyhow. "So," Merry continued, "Pippin and I are used to having people upset our expectations. It's the kind of thing that tends to happen here in Bree. Will you show us that little stick you've been hiding?"
Putting down his fork and knife, Harry sheepishly reached under his robe and drew out a thin, smooth stick that looked like one Merry had seen a Gondorian musician use to lead his fellows in the right rhythm.
"Gandalf used to carry a great tall staff," said Pippin, "like a walking stick."
"We use these," said Harry, gripping it so tightly that it shook slightly. "But I tried using it earlier, downstairs, and it wouldn't work."
"Wouldn't do what?"
"Well, anything. I couldn't disapparate, I couldn't levitate, I couldn't even do a summoning charm."
"And why would you have wanted to do any of those things?" said Pippin, as if he knew what they were.
"Well, the first to get out of here, but I suspect that only works if one knows where one is. The others... just to know that I could." He shrugged. "But I couldn't."
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(Anonymous) 2007-05-06 02:12 am (UTC)(link)(Uh oh, I just diverted you from working again, didn't I?)
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REMIX!!