#finding a voice

[howifeltabouthim]

'Hold your tongue . . . ' 'I held it for months and months; held it because you were my husband; though I was nearly mad. I shall never hold it again.'

Ellen Wood, from East Lynne

[autisticdreamdrop]

Coughdrop let chu change voice and ours is to young boy and it sounds nice :) the voice on our phone is male too. Shane hates voice. AAC gives Shane a better voice

[roselightfairy]

Oh man, yesterday was FAVersary and I completely forgot!

…well. cheers to four years ago when I thought LOTR was going to be a minor obsession because I only had one ship/one idea.

I might only have the one, but oh BOY can I drag it out.

[dollstar]

[roselightfairy]

Half prompt and half head canon question but does Finding A Voice Thranduil ever sail? Little bitty reunion fic with everyone? If he doesn’t, then when Legolas meets Cuindis/reunites with Siril/introduces Gimli?

Gosh... you really have your finger on the pulse here. So the thing is, I cannot write this as a ficlet because it's something I'm in a long and ongoing process of wrangling right now! ("long and ongoing" does not necessarily mean the fic itself will be long, as there's very little written right now, but the process certainly is.) I really need to figure out how Legolas and Gimli come to sail, what the process of farewells and reunions is like, what it means to see these people again, what it means to introduce your husband and a mother you've hardly met, what it means to say goodbye. It's...a lot. I really really really want to write it, but it won't be anytime soon.

As to Thranduil sailing, I honestly don't know. That's something I'm also trying to figure out. I love him so much as a character but he is so so difficult to get a grasp on. We have all these different sources for him - the merry-yet-stern Elvenking of the Hobbit book, the bits we can piece together from his few mentions in LOTR and the extra material, and then the fanon spawned by the Hobbit movies, which I try not to let shape my own headcanons but which is incredibly pervasive. With all of it, I feel all I can do is write around Thranduil and hope that he takes shape in the blurry outline between what I've written, but I do so want to know him better and have a firmer grasp on his characterization and what he means and is within my universe. Figuring out whether he ever sails and under what conditions is probably part of figuring out the core of who he is as a person, which I've been struggling with for . . . almost four years now.

So I don't know, but - well, I hope he does. I hope he reunites with Cuindis and his father and anyone else he has lost (that's also something I'm sort of piecing together) and is able to be with his family without thousands of years of responsibility and tragedy on his shoulders - but then, I also can't imagine those wounds and habits will ever truly leave. Ultimately, I just don't know, but I hope someday he opens up to me.

[roselightfairy]

Six-sentence Sunday

I’m calling the bluff of every single person who indicated that they might be interested in reading more about Laerwen.  Also I’m writing about baby Legolas. (I’m trying so hard.)

Not that Siril knows, herself, how children ought to be – they are a poor couple for this – but Celair has told her Legolas is not unlike she was as a child. He loves to run about, laughs in delight every time a bird flies into view, and loves to bring them small treasures he has found – a tiny, perfect egg; a brightly-colored feather, the shed casing of an insect – singing a cooing wordless song of pleasure when they smile and exclaim.  And it is true that he has not yet spoken a word, but he loves to point at things and beam when they tell him their names.

Siril finds him enchanting – almost as enchanting, in fact as the look of tender awe that softens over Laerwen’s face whenever her brother smiles.

“You are right, I am sure,” Laerwen sighs.  The worried line between her brows does not disappear, though, so Siril has no other option but to lean forward and kiss it away – and then to kiss the resulting pout from Laerwen’s lips.

[roselightfairy]

I was very bored at work yesterday, and I wrote a silly fluffy minific.  Emphasis on the silly, emphasis on the fluffy, emphasis on the mini.  I’ve never done this before, but I think I’m going to post it on here.

Also, work tonight looks like it might be similar, so I’m thinking of reblogging some prompt lists. If people are interested, and if you like this one, prompt me and I’ll see if I can manage another one tonight.

Okay. Fic now. (SELF-CONSCIOUS AGH.)

This takes place in some unspecified time in the Finding a Voice ‘verse. Ridiculous fluffy married L/G, don’t look at me.

Gimli jerked awake, lurching up and forward in a sudden motion – though he could not for the life of him think what had startled him – and smashed his forehead into something alarmingly close, and not nearly soft enough.

“Wha – ?” he gasped, his hands flying to his head just as he heard a matching squawk of pain and felt the whoosh of air and hair past his face.  He opened his eyes just in time to see Legolas roll off of him, both hands clutched to the lower half of his face.

“You –” Gimli stared at him, processing, and then he could not help himself: he burst out laughing.

“Cruel,” Legolas moaned into his hands, though he too laughed cautiously after a moment, wiping watering eyes with one hand while keeping the other pressed to his nose. “Although I admit it is no more than I deserved.”

“I should say so!” gasped Gimli, heart still racing from the first shock.  “What were you, looming over me like an owl stalking a mouse?”

Legolas flushed.  “I like watching you sleep,” he protested meekly.  “Though if I am to be thus punished for my fascination, perhaps I shall have to do without the pleasure.”  He sniffed, probing carefully at his nose with the hand that remained clamped to his face.

All Gimli’s bluster drained away at Legolas’s earnestness, as it did so often; he did not even try to fight the soft warm feeling melting his insides.  “None of that, now,” he said, rolling over and pushing the dark hair out of Legolas’s face.  “Let me see.”

He pried Legolas’s hand gently from his face to inspect the damage for himself, until he was satisfied that Legolas’s nose was as whole as ever, if a bit tender.  “I am sorry,” he said, bending over and dropping a light kiss onto it.  It wrinkled in reflex, and Gimli laughed.  “Can you bring yourself to forgive me?”

Legolas laughed as well, reaching up to catch Gimli’s face and guide him – very carefully – back down for a deeper kiss.  “I think I can manage that.”