My Date with Rumil
folder
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,560
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,560
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Monday-Aftermath
The Date 5/5 Aftermath
I sit in my chair, watching the two Muses pace back and forth.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
My chair.
How long has it been since I sat in "my chair" - this beat up, rickity, over-stuffed pathetic excuse for a chair? I look around. There is my cross-stitch lamp/magnifier, within reach. How long has it been since I turned it on? Lying next to the chair, on the table, four books, in various stages of reading. Tolkien. Stephen King. Ellis Peters. Judith McNaught.
Ah, something from each. Fantasy. Horror. Mystery. Romance.
All are coated with dust.
Propped next to the table is my sewing basket. Several pieces in various stages of completion, reside within, ranging from the simple weekend piece to the two monsters.
The Unicorn. On black linen - that one I have worked on for 6 or 7 years. I have to put a lamp between my feet so the light will shine through the threads.
Thss. ss. Ah. Sweet, sweet piece. On Apple Blossom linen. Lovely. Beaded. 3 years. I have actually kept track of the time spent on this one - 352 hours. It is 1/3 of the way done. When completed, it will look like paint.
Each piece worked on for months, then laid aside for a time. Until I was ready to work on it again.
Tedious. Painstaking. Meticulous. How many rows had I ripped out because I didn't like how they laid?
Much like writing. How many words changed? How many lines moved, ripped out at the seams? How many times did you rewrite the Dead Marshes scene? Two? Three times? To get it just right?
And like the cross stitch, every second, every letter, every moment worth the time.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Long trailing black robes swish alongside the soft sounds of leather boots.
Tighter and tighter.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
"For God's Sake, Merlin's Sake and Iluvatar's sake! Stop the fricking pacing and spit it out, you two!"
Startled indigo blue, and jet black eyes stare into my brandy colored ones.
"You have been stressed."
Ah, HalMuse! You are the mental giant!
"I have been? I hadn't noticed." I smirked quietly.
"He... we have not helped."
"You have had... your days."
The two were very quiet.
"HalMuse." He looked at me, expectantly. "What possessed you to follow me? I know you tried to ruin the weekend; I know SnapeBaby did his damndest to keep you from it."
He stiffened, scowled. Ah. That look. I could hear his voice in the air... ‘the Dwarf breathes so loud...'
"I did not like letting you go!"
SnapeBaby smirked. "You were jealous?"
I was trying hard not to laugh. "I sent you to Muse for a night and that was alright."
"Well, we did our job! You sent us, therefore, we complied!"
"So it is okay for you, but not for me..."
"You only sent the one time. You are normally..."
"Reticent to allow us to go." SnapeBaby finished the sentence.
"True. It was necessary. She needed..."
"TLC."
It was silent for several minutes.
"I needed this break."
"We know." HalMuse was standing in front of me, eyes downcast. He sank to his knees and placed his head in my lap. "Do not ever leave that long again." The moonbeamed head lifted, eyes implored. "I... we have been horrid and we... I was afraid you would replace me... us."
Ah. I understand.
"Yes, you have had your horrid moments. And no, I would never replace you." My hand caressed the pointed ear. HalMuse sighed in relief and even SnapeBaby seem to uncoil, just a little.
"New ground rules, gentlemen? I do not loan you out without consulting the both of you?"
"Yes!"
"No more full weekend dates for me."
"Yes!"
"I do reserve the right however, to a night out!"
Eyebrows knit down. I see the argument.
"Of course, if the two of you endeavor to get along, I should be less inclined to go out."
Heads nod in agreement.
"Your turn!"
Both Wizard and Elf look hard at each other.
"Madam. I am not a secretary, yet I acted as such this weekend."
"I understand."
"I will do it again, but I do not like it."
SnapeBaby is sooooo austere when he wishes to be. My hand continues to caress the pointed ear thrust into my hand.
"I also do not like babysitting."
"You should be given combat pay. HalMuse," I gently cuffed the offered ear, "was most difficult." I look into the that beloved face, this Muse who will - and does smile.
Elven smirk. Hehe.
"And you?" I ask my Lothlórien Lover.
"That last day."
"Hmmm....."
"It was very.... you had a very good time."
I smile.
"You do not discuss what we," his hand gestured the three of us, "do. Not the three of us. Not the two of us. I do not care if you post on every billboard what he does!" Snape snorted at this revelation. "But us? It is not for the community to know about. What goes on in our bedroom..."
"Or Dungeon..." ah that velvet voice...
"Or dungeon, does not leave it. It is between us."
Ladies, I am negotiating with fictional, exist in my mind only characters.
Am I nuts, or do I need a life?
Probably both.
I smile at the Elven warrior, curled about my feet. This one who took such good care of me when I was ill. Who rubbed my neck when I had headaches. Would whisper into my ear when the plot bunnies were nowhere to be found. He who can be so very playful. My eyes reach out to the Dark Wizard. Standing a step back, eyes glittering, coiled so tight within himself. Playful is NOT in his vocabulary. He, who taught me to fly, taught me reach into the depth of my soul and scream with my pen...
"No more fighting, no more long days away, no discussing our personal life. Fine."
Both Muses are satisfied.
"Now. I need help." They are eager to comply, to suggest. "About Erestor..."
***
Fini
***
I sit in my chair, watching the two Muses pace back and forth.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
My chair.
How long has it been since I sat in "my chair" - this beat up, rickity, over-stuffed pathetic excuse for a chair? I look around. There is my cross-stitch lamp/magnifier, within reach. How long has it been since I turned it on? Lying next to the chair, on the table, four books, in various stages of reading. Tolkien. Stephen King. Ellis Peters. Judith McNaught.
Ah, something from each. Fantasy. Horror. Mystery. Romance.
All are coated with dust.
Propped next to the table is my sewing basket. Several pieces in various stages of completion, reside within, ranging from the simple weekend piece to the two monsters.
The Unicorn. On black linen - that one I have worked on for 6 or 7 years. I have to put a lamp between my feet so the light will shine through the threads.
Thss. ss. Ah. Sweet, sweet piece. On Apple Blossom linen. Lovely. Beaded. 3 years. I have actually kept track of the time spent on this one - 352 hours. It is 1/3 of the way done. When completed, it will look like paint.
Each piece worked on for months, then laid aside for a time. Until I was ready to work on it again.
Tedious. Painstaking. Meticulous. How many rows had I ripped out because I didn't like how they laid?
Much like writing. How many words changed? How many lines moved, ripped out at the seams? How many times did you rewrite the Dead Marshes scene? Two? Three times? To get it just right?
And like the cross stitch, every second, every letter, every moment worth the time.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Long trailing black robes swish alongside the soft sounds of leather boots.
Tighter and tighter.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
"For God's Sake, Merlin's Sake and Iluvatar's sake! Stop the fricking pacing and spit it out, you two!"
Startled indigo blue, and jet black eyes stare into my brandy colored ones.
"You have been stressed."
Ah, HalMuse! You are the mental giant!
"I have been? I hadn't noticed." I smirked quietly.
"He... we have not helped."
"You have had... your days."
The two were very quiet.
"HalMuse." He looked at me, expectantly. "What possessed you to follow me? I know you tried to ruin the weekend; I know SnapeBaby did his damndest to keep you from it."
He stiffened, scowled. Ah. That look. I could hear his voice in the air... ‘the Dwarf breathes so loud...'
"I did not like letting you go!"
SnapeBaby smirked. "You were jealous?"
I was trying hard not to laugh. "I sent you to Muse for a night and that was alright."
"Well, we did our job! You sent us, therefore, we complied!"
"So it is okay for you, but not for me..."
"You only sent the one time. You are normally..."
"Reticent to allow us to go." SnapeBaby finished the sentence.
"True. It was necessary. She needed..."
"TLC."
It was silent for several minutes.
"I needed this break."
"We know." HalMuse was standing in front of me, eyes downcast. He sank to his knees and placed his head in my lap. "Do not ever leave that long again." The moonbeamed head lifted, eyes implored. "I... we have been horrid and we... I was afraid you would replace me... us."
Ah. I understand.
"Yes, you have had your horrid moments. And no, I would never replace you." My hand caressed the pointed ear. HalMuse sighed in relief and even SnapeBaby seem to uncoil, just a little.
"New ground rules, gentlemen? I do not loan you out without consulting the both of you?"
"Yes!"
"No more full weekend dates for me."
"Yes!"
"I do reserve the right however, to a night out!"
Eyebrows knit down. I see the argument.
"Of course, if the two of you endeavor to get along, I should be less inclined to go out."
Heads nod in agreement.
"Your turn!"
Both Wizard and Elf look hard at each other.
"Madam. I am not a secretary, yet I acted as such this weekend."
"I understand."
"I will do it again, but I do not like it."
SnapeBaby is sooooo austere when he wishes to be. My hand continues to caress the pointed ear thrust into my hand.
"I also do not like babysitting."
"You should be given combat pay. HalMuse," I gently cuffed the offered ear, "was most difficult." I look into the that beloved face, this Muse who will - and does smile.
Elven smirk. Hehe.
"And you?" I ask my Lothlórien Lover.
"That last day."
"Hmmm....."
"It was very.... you had a very good time."
I smile.
"You do not discuss what we," his hand gestured the three of us, "do. Not the three of us. Not the two of us. I do not care if you post on every billboard what he does!" Snape snorted at this revelation. "But us? It is not for the community to know about. What goes on in our bedroom..."
"Or Dungeon..." ah that velvet voice...
"Or dungeon, does not leave it. It is between us."
Ladies, I am negotiating with fictional, exist in my mind only characters.
Am I nuts, or do I need a life?
Probably both.
I smile at the Elven warrior, curled about my feet. This one who took such good care of me when I was ill. Who rubbed my neck when I had headaches. Would whisper into my ear when the plot bunnies were nowhere to be found. He who can be so very playful. My eyes reach out to the Dark Wizard. Standing a step back, eyes glittering, coiled so tight within himself. Playful is NOT in his vocabulary. He, who taught me to fly, taught me reach into the depth of my soul and scream with my pen...
"No more fighting, no more long days away, no discussing our personal life. Fine."
Both Muses are satisfied.
"Now. I need help." They are eager to comply, to suggest. "About Erestor..."
***
Fini
***