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crack_van2006-04-10 11:45 am
rubynye.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2006-04-10 11:45 am
Entry tags:
At Play in Rivendell by Stranger (NC-17)
Fandom: LOTR
Pairing: Frodo/Merry/Pippin
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
strangerian
Author Website: check lj profile for updates.
Why this must be read:
strangerian, for her coherent and beautiful world- and character-building, her evident love of all the hobbits and refusal to vilify anyone gratuitously, and her "everyday life" stories that evoke just why everyday life is interesting and worth reading about, is one of my favorite hobbitfic authors; I could fill this month with recs of her works alone. (Her Shire Reckoning 1412 series is mentioned/recced here.)
With all that said, I chose this story in particular because it has one of my favorite threesomes (Frodo/Merry/Pippin) written in a comfortable, warm, in-character way. (Be reassured, Sam is not slighted in the least.) The voice Stranger constructs for Frodo is intelligent, slightly detached, dryly witty, and above all lovably recognizeable. Around the hobbits Rivendell glows, slightly strange and very beautiful and yet not home, and the complexities of the hobbits' perspectives on the place they are and this moment in their journey are evoked with a light, warm hand. Also, there is porn, extending to all five senses, plausible and gorgeous.
All in all, I really love this story; it's not just well-written erotic fanfiction (in itself no small feat) but also a worthy extension of Tolkien's universe into the realm of the erotic. .
The path led slowly up the western hills above the Bruinen. Frodo lagged behind the other two, but not because he was winded or ill. He wanted to feel the sunlight and breathe in the gardens and the daylight sky overhead, knowing nothing here could see the Ring chained in his pocket. Nothing of evil could come here.
The pine woods beyond the poplars and shelf of meadow drew him. There was a clump of pines in the Shire on a hill a little north of the Great Road. He passed it every time he went that way to Buckland, and it was, somehow, always a signal to stop for half an hour and a pipe, or if Merry was with him, for an hour and at least two pipes.
Was there pipeweed in Rivendell? Besides whatever the four of them still had in their packs from the Shire? He'd have to ask. Gandalf would know.
Merry and Pippin, already at the edge of the meadow above, were whispering over the basket, and then Merry gave a crack of laughter and let Pippin pull the whole weight of it away from him. Pippin went running, basket and all, across the slope to a patch of sunshine and grass flecked with golden leaves and edged with lacy shadows.
At Play in Rivendell
Pairing: Frodo/Merry/Pippin
Author on LJ:
strangerianAuthor Website: check lj profile for updates.
Why this must be read:
strangerian, for her coherent and beautiful world- and character-building, her evident love of all the hobbits and refusal to vilify anyone gratuitously, and her "everyday life" stories that evoke just why everyday life is interesting and worth reading about, is one of my favorite hobbitfic authors; I could fill this month with recs of her works alone. (Her Shire Reckoning 1412 series is mentioned/recced here.)With all that said, I chose this story in particular because it has one of my favorite threesomes (Frodo/Merry/Pippin) written in a comfortable, warm, in-character way. (Be reassured, Sam is not slighted in the least.) The voice Stranger constructs for Frodo is intelligent, slightly detached, dryly witty, and above all lovably recognizeable. Around the hobbits Rivendell glows, slightly strange and very beautiful and yet not home, and the complexities of the hobbits' perspectives on the place they are and this moment in their journey are evoked with a light, warm hand. Also, there is porn, extending to all five senses, plausible and gorgeous.
All in all, I really love this story; it's not just well-written erotic fanfiction (in itself no small feat) but also a worthy extension of Tolkien's universe into the realm of the erotic. .
The path led slowly up the western hills above the Bruinen. Frodo lagged behind the other two, but not because he was winded or ill. He wanted to feel the sunlight and breathe in the gardens and the daylight sky overhead, knowing nothing here could see the Ring chained in his pocket. Nothing of evil could come here.
The pine woods beyond the poplars and shelf of meadow drew him. There was a clump of pines in the Shire on a hill a little north of the Great Road. He passed it every time he went that way to Buckland, and it was, somehow, always a signal to stop for half an hour and a pipe, or if Merry was with him, for an hour and at least two pipes.
Was there pipeweed in Rivendell? Besides whatever the four of them still had in their packs from the Shire? He'd have to ask. Gandalf would know.
Merry and Pippin, already at the edge of the meadow above, were whispering over the basket, and then Merry gave a crack of laughter and let Pippin pull the whole weight of it away from him. Pippin went running, basket and all, across the slope to a patch of sunshine and grass flecked with golden leaves and edged with lacy shadows.
At Play in Rivendell