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dear-prudence.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fellowshippers2004-05-04 01:20 pm
dear-prudence.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-05-04 01:20 pm
(no subject)
Title: Untitled
Disclaimer: Complete fiction. Unfortunately... ;)
Subject: Viggorli. Yay!
Rating: Tame, really...
Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
maclabhrain and to the wonderful, gorgeous, adorable sajee
New Zealand was cold. It was wild, beautiful, diverse, yes, all of these things, but the best single adjective was sill cold. Viggo kept his sketchbook on him whenever he could to record the various moments that made up this experience, but most of the time his hands were so stiff with cold that the lines were clumsy and frustrated him. He had an aching need to record this, to keep it, so it would never really end. His hand, in its fingerless brown glove, dragged his pencil across the page in a curved line - a cheek; then he attempted a mouth, a mouth that to him represented infinite softness, indescribable beauty...
The hobbits let out a simultaneous shout as their plastic cup hit the ground.
"Viggo!" Elijah called out, "267 seconds."
Viggo gave him a wave, flipped to the back page of his sketchbookbook and wrote 267 at the bottom of the third column of a page marked Silly Hobbit Cup Game. When he flipped back he found the page covered with lines that now seemed harsh and awkward, lines that were so far from capturing the grace and beauty of his subject, that he tore the page up.
He took a deep careful breath and tried not to panic, tried to focus on something else - the little cloutd his breath made in the air, the hobbits and their random banter, the crew bustling in the early morning chill - but the urgency he felt, the dread, continued to mount. Soon this would all be over. Soon real life would resume. If he couldn't take a small piece of Orli back with him he was sure he'd suffocate, drown...
He started a little to feel soft fingers brush the back of his neck, then smiled. Legolas was was standing at his shoulder, not looking ar him, but surveying the set, and allowing his thumb and forefinger to rest lightly on either side of Viggo's spine.
"Is 267 a record?" he asked casually as Viggo felt goosebumps that had nothing to do with the morning chill rise and ripple from his neck down his arms.
"Could be..." he replied slowly, "could be..."
He breathed again with a relief that he knew was temporary. It would do for now.
Disclaimer: Complete fiction. Unfortunately... ;)
Subject: Viggorli. Yay!
Rating: Tame, really...
Thanks to
maclabhrain and to the wonderful, gorgeous, adorable sajee New Zealand was cold. It was wild, beautiful, diverse, yes, all of these things, but the best single adjective was sill cold. Viggo kept his sketchbook on him whenever he could to record the various moments that made up this experience, but most of the time his hands were so stiff with cold that the lines were clumsy and frustrated him. He had an aching need to record this, to keep it, so it would never really end. His hand, in its fingerless brown glove, dragged his pencil across the page in a curved line - a cheek; then he attempted a mouth, a mouth that to him represented infinite softness, indescribable beauty...
The hobbits let out a simultaneous shout as their plastic cup hit the ground.
"Viggo!" Elijah called out, "267 seconds."
Viggo gave him a wave, flipped to the back page of his sketchbookbook and wrote 267 at the bottom of the third column of a page marked Silly Hobbit Cup Game. When he flipped back he found the page covered with lines that now seemed harsh and awkward, lines that were so far from capturing the grace and beauty of his subject, that he tore the page up.
He took a deep careful breath and tried not to panic, tried to focus on something else - the little cloutd his breath made in the air, the hobbits and their random banter, the crew bustling in the early morning chill - but the urgency he felt, the dread, continued to mount. Soon this would all be over. Soon real life would resume. If he couldn't take a small piece of Orli back with him he was sure he'd suffocate, drown...
He started a little to feel soft fingers brush the back of his neck, then smiled. Legolas was was standing at his shoulder, not looking ar him, but surveying the set, and allowing his thumb and forefinger to rest lightly on either side of Viggo's spine.
"Is 267 a record?" he asked casually as Viggo felt goosebumps that had nothing to do with the morning chill rise and ripple from his neck down his arms.
"Could be..." he replied slowly, "could be..."
He breathed again with a relief that he knew was temporary. It would do for now.
no subject
267
Glad you liked it. I was writing more in my lecture today, so there will be more soonish :)
no subject
Great job!