Subject: As methods of breaking an awkward silence went, this one was...unique. (Silmarillion shipfic cont.!)
Posted on: 2020-07-15 20:49:10 UTC

((Yes, really. It just works. For context, see the link provided. I'll hopefully also do a snippet for Boarder!me as well, which could be interesting for a couple different reasons, but for now...enjoy an unexpected installment of...uh. Does this have a title? It seems not to. Let's call it...the Lay of Unexpected Journeys, for both the Lay of Leithian, upon which the original set-up was loosely based, and...what is apparently part of a title for one of the Hobbit movies? Could've sworn it was from something else. At any rate, it fits here!))

The Lay of Unexpected Journeys, pt. 3

Huinesoron had settled into staring, unable to find the words to speak; the Dread Kaitlyn's eyes were narrowed. Neshomeh had begun to fidget a little in the silence, tapping the fingers of a hand that shouldn't be there against her spoon.

And then another door opened with an odd slapping noise, and--

"What manner of...creature is that?" Huinesoron wanted to know.

Over at the table, Neshomeh made a very odd noise and shuffled her chair backwards. "It's a...meat. Thing. But I got rid of it!"

The piece of meat drew its middle off the floor, and turned this way and that as though eyeing them without visible eyes.

"Ah, I see," said Huinesoron. "This is not, then, a...working of yours?" He turned surprisingly calm, if alert, eyes on the Dread Kaitlyn.

"How could it possibly be--? Oh, right, the, uh...costume," Neshomeh said. "Right."

Elf and Maia looked at her oddly, to no response.

"I have never..." The Dread Kaitlyn's attention was caught by the meat, which was beginning to squish its way in her direction. "This is not my doing. Why would it be my doing?"

"I'll get the broom," Neshomeh said quickly, and got to her feet. The meat hissed; she paused, then shook her head, resolve steeling her features, and headed for the hallway.

The meat, moving fast enough to startle, set itself rolling. In seconds, it was at the entrance to the hallway; it hissed and spat at Neshomeh, who drew back a pace and glared at it.

"You didn't win earlier, and you won't win now," she said sternly. For the first time since their arrival in this strange new location, Huinesoron and the Dread Kaitlyn found her demeanor familiar. Then, Neshomeh raised her voice. "Phobos! Can you get the broom for me?"

"Phobos is here?" the Dread Kaitlyn demanded.

Huinesoron smiled. "I told you someone might come looking."

"They did not come; we--"

"Okay?" came a deep and slightly confused voice from the hallway. Before long, a man approached, holding a broom made of materials utterly unfamiliar to the Elf and his captor. "Why do you--? What is that?"

Caught between Neshomeh, its earlier foe, and Phobos, holding Neshomeh's weapon, the meat opted for the better part of valor, and, with a fierce hiss and a bit of spitting, scooted across the floor, up the wall, and out an open window.

"Was that the thing from earlier?" Phobos asked. He set the broom aside, and entered the room properly.

"Yes," said Neshomeh, and went to close the window with both hands.

"Well," said Huinesoron, in somewhat intrigued tones.

"What happened to you?" demanded the Dread Kaitlyn. Her eyes were fixed on Phobos--Phobos who, while still recognizable, was quite clearly not the Phobos Tinuvion, son of the elven King Boarders and the Maia Shipping, for love of whom the mortal warrior Neshomeh had sought the Silmarilli and lost her hand.

While he would not have used such tones, the same question was on Huinesoron's mind as well; and so, he turned his gaze on the apparently mortal Phobos, and waited patiently for a response.

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