Snippet - A Touch Of Tolkien

["sochankitsune" <annelise@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>]

The Queen of Snippets rubs disconcertedly at her rusty crown. "Has it 
been that long?" she wonders.

--

Willow screamed aloud as though she were being tortured, and as she 
did so, her eyes filled with blackness and became as pools of night. 
Her feet lost purchase from upon the wooden floor, and she rose 
slowly into the air as if held aloft by unseen hands. Her long, 
coppery hair streamed away, though no breeze was felt within that 
Summer hall. Cries of astonishment rang out, and the shrill calls of 
the excitable and shrieks of the fearful could be heard altogether.
As Willow's head, thrown back in her unknown agonies, became 
wreathed in silvery nimbus, a sudden hush fell over the crowd. This 
pure aurora brought forth widened eyes, and to those afraid, a 
tenuous wonder ran fingers over trembling hearts.
"What devilry perchance this be?" demanded the ageing lecturer, but 
to no avail; for no experiences witnessed within these hallowed walls 
could provide an answer suitable. Who knows what mischief may have 
been wrought upon our hapless wiccan friend if not her dearest love 
and oft companion entered at this point?
"Oh my god, Willow!" Buffy cried, and came with haste to her 
beloved's floating side. She pushed at the jostling crowd, and many 
made way for, though petite, her Slayer's frame held much strength as 
could be witnessed by students lying within their desk's remains.
The lecturer, having felt laid low and angered by a slight upon his 
wisdom and leadership, now came forward and pinned our heroine with a 
stern and questing gaze. "Perhaps you, forsooth, may explain to these 
learned ears what, perchance, has befallen our stellar and admired 
student?"
"Oh," And at these words Buffy felt undeniable urges; to giggle, and 
to make merry at the expense of this sorry academic, for in his 
desire and quest for answers and authority lost he seemed indeed a 
mirthful sight. "Well, you know, it is that time of month..."
And loud was the laughter of the class.

*

"What happened in there?" Buffy asked of her recovered friend, as 
forceful hands upon Willow's slender frame had wrought a change; a 
return to normalcy. "And why's everyone talking weirdly?"
Willow blinked her eyes, as though to clear them of some unseen 
barrier to sight. "I know not," she replied, "but I think I may, 
perhaps, be able to hazard a guess." She took a breath of the heady 
air as they sat, hands held within hands, upon the sun-warmed wooden 
benches that seemed to grow untended upon the campus lawns. "I felt a 
great magic stir within my unworthy breast," she admitted. "Yes, that 
breast upon which your hand now plays and stirs within me more than 
simple magic, O wicked tease!"
Buffy's smile alluded to more fun pursuits if Willow's lips were 
but an answer to provide.
"My guess is this," Willow said at length. "I believe our fair 
narrator has decided not to wait until the eve of Christmas, but to 
partake of the second Lord of the Rings novel early, so as to 
discover what may lie ahead for Frodo and his merry friends. But 
alas! She has now been influenced by Tolkien's heady language, and 
succumbed to his flowery and descriptive phrase."
Buffy sniffed. "But why don't I feel the effects?"
Willow's quirky smile flickered, as briefly and as perfect as a 
kingfisher's wing upon a salmon's brief pursuit. "I think our muse 
may possibly be undecided on your coming role. Should thyself be 
crafted of elven origin, or dwarven birth perhaps? Your diminutive 
stature breathes whispers of the latter, yet surely you have an elven 
ass and perhaps a hobbit's nose. And as of yet, her decision unmade, 
how then can she write words for you to say?"
Buffy shrugged. "If the choice were mine," she suggested as though 
any choice were indeed hers for the deliberation, "I'd wanna be a 
silver horse; for then many cute and elven chicks would ride me long 
and hard, like that Arwen: Aragorn's bitch."
And just like that, the spell that had once been surreptitiously 
laid upon the author became as broken, and she felt at last she could 
write once more in a style of her own. And thus Buffy and Willow 
spent a week in the bedroom recovering from hard and sybaritic sex. 
So there.

*

End Snippet.