#um. this is something i've wanted to do for a long long loooong time but i always chickened out. however now i'm feeling some inspiration

[wayfaringastral]

『I just want to know what you've got your sights set on for my own sake—so I can walk my own path.』

Indie / Selective / Private

Unmasked by Seer✦

❄ Rules + Muse ☁

[be-my-ally]

Splashing Around Ch. 2.

Chapter one can be found here.

So hello, welcome back to my lil cute, OC inspired a lot by Arlene (but also by my 50s dreams) cute kissing haven. I have to apologise for how short this is - it was taking me forever to finish the next section, so I've decided to break up what was one loooong chapter into two teeny tiny ones so his draft notice, army el, arguments and more kissing (basically all the good stuff I can't wait to share) to come very very soon!!!! 

I am, for those waiting on smut, cooking up a few things but I've been very, very, very, busy the past few weeks and can barely think about like, making a cup of tea, let alone putting words together in a way that makes sense so hang tight, it's coming.

wc: 3k.

sorry it's so short & so late - I think I've been promising *something* for like a month now, @whositmcwhatsit @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24 @vintageshanny @missmaywemeetagain @from-memphis-with-love but hey, here's something! I'm hoping it'll set me off writing and posting again.

shirtless elvis 1957 inspo pic:

c. July 16th - August/September 1957.

Elvis grabs a covered plate from the kitchen island, still dripping wet, before whisking it up the staircase to the side, depositing them both in his bedroom. Louise hadn’t been up this way yet, she’d briefly been shown around when he’d wanted to show off to her and the other girls; they’d all ended up piled onto his bed, stroking his hair and talking, but somehow the intimacy of going up these stairs, with him alone, made her feel like it was her first time witnessing this private space. 

“Right, it’s uh,” He looks up and down at where she’s dripping onto the carpet, “probably for the  best if you go on through there again.” He points through to the dressing room, “there’s uh, there’s towels and uhh, soap and all of them things in the bathroom there if you want a shower or anything.” 

The storm crackles outside, but in the cushioned sound of the bedroom and dressing room it's almost impossible to tell, and Louise quickly busies herself, uncertain of how long Elvis would be preoccupied, and not wanting to keep him waiting. She does, however, take a little longer in the shower than she usually would - marvelling at the amount of hot water available that meant both of them could shower at the same time.

She’s carefully trying to roll her hair in her fingers, concentrating on her reflection in the mirror,  when Elvis pokes his head in, sidling around the door until she waves him in fully. She immediately regrets it, realising she’s only half-dressed, sat in her underwear and her blouse on but unbuttoned. 

“Oh - uh, Elvis! I’m not, quite, um ready for yo-” She watches him as he looks her over, he’s barely dressed himself, pants slung low on his hips, unbuttoned, and shirtless - but he’s entirely unself-conscious, holding the plate out to her, unlike the blush spreading across her body. She cringes a little, skittish, and he snaps himself out of it when he notices her nerves. He frowns, looking her over, and Louise feels the panic suddenly rising - is she not what he expected? He saw her in her swimsuit earlier…but it just feels different somehow now - maybe now, fresh-faced, she’s just not pretty enough? But he makes no comment on her body other than an attempt to ease her mind. 

“Thought I told you girls to settle, ain’t no-one gonna do anything you don’t want, sweetheart - won’t touch ya, I swear it.” She swallows, she hadn’t been scared quite in that way, but she would be lying if she said his words hadn’t reassured her. Louise nods, slowly, uncertain of what to say next, but Elvis takes care of it - striding over to place the plate on the dressing table, whisking the cover off the top. “There’s cookies there. Help yourself, I’ve already had a dozen waitin’ for you to get outta the shower.” 

“Oh! uh, I didn’t mean to keep you, I mean you could’ve just called - I didn’t mean to take -” She panics all over again, and he holds his hands up in an attempt to calm her,  

“No, no, honey, re-lax, just meant I was waiting for you to be done s’all.” He shakes his head,  “I promised you a blow-dry didn’t I?” He twists a strand of her hair in his fingers, “... how about I do yours and you do mine?” 

“Uh, yeah,” She swallows, “yeah that works.” 

His deft hands style her hair, but the whole time she can hardly breathe feeling his fingers against her scalp, finger-combing and gently twirling and twisting the strands of hair into some semblance of a do. She can’t take her eyes off of him in the mirror, a look of complete concentration on his face; almost a pout, with a slight furrow of his brow and his lips pushing forward as he focuses on his actions. 

The dryer prevents all attempts at conversation - which is lucky, because she wasn’t sure she’d be able to pay attention to a word he said, too focussed on trying to memorise the feel of his rings catching on a tangle - the tug somehow not feeling the same as when she brushes it, the sting making her shift in her seat, a dizzying feeling flooding through her body. 

“There.” Elvis finishes with the blow-dryer, fluffing her hair like she’s at the salon, looking back at her in the mirror. Miraculously, for all the ridiculous ways he was twisting and turning to do it, he’s managed to achieve a fairly respectable blow-out. “There we are. Now, look how pretty you look. Oughta do it for you everyday - could be my new career.” He puffs out his chest, clearly proud of himself and Louise laughs, 

“Hmm, I’m not sure all the other girls in the world would be pleased with that.” 

“Well I ain’t worried ‘bout any of them other girls, only you, baby.” He’s looking a little bashful, folding his arms across his bare chest. She can’t stop the blush, or the grin, from overtaking her face. She takes a second to respond, struggling to think of a reply, something that would make him feel as giddy as she does, when she’s suddenly knocked half off of the bench. Elvis sat down, bumping her with his hip. “Ok, my turn!” Louise obediently hops up, smiling at his playfulness, 

“Uh, ok - but I gotta warn you,” She nervously brings her hands up to touch his still-damp hair, it’s darker wet, but she can see where the dirty blonde is starting to shimmer through, “I haven’t ever dried a boy’s hair before, so, I might not do it very well and -” 

“You’ll do fine, doll,” He shakes his head at her, 

“Well, you might have to direct me,” His own smile grows wider, as if he’d expected she did this every weekend, and the knowledge that it was all new to her pleased him. 

“S’ok honey, I trust you.” She does her best, fingers pulling gently to hold the hair this way and that, as he constantly wiggles around in the chair; but she can’t help but get a little distracted by his expression in the mirror. By the way he seems to be practising posing, as if unaware she’s watching the whole time. His pouty lips going from a half-smile to a scowl to a lip raised in quick succession.

Louise thinks back to it, sat with her legs across Elvis’, on his new couch that he had been oh-so-proud to show off a week or so ago, of how lucky she was to be chosen like this, to be able to have thread her fingers through his hair, or watch him carefully comb it into place after it was dry; to be so close to him that she could see the acne across his neck, the remnants of a shaving rash on his lower jaw. How many girls could say they’d gotten to do this? But with that thought comes the sobering reality that it has to end at some point, and she’d rather not outstay her welcome…it’s probably time for him to get ready for dinner, or for entertaining whoever he’d invited tonight. 

“I’ve had a lovely day…thank you Elvis, it’s been really special…” She’s inching around the subject, she doesn’t want to leave, or for Elvis to say it’s time for her to go, but if he is she wants it to be from her prompting. She wants him to like her, desperately so, but she’s seen enough to know that she also doesn’t want to act too desperate, she wants to seem cool, and older than her years make her, mature about it all - aloof. She’s not though, and the relief she feels when he responds, 

“You ain’t thinkin’ about leavin’ me now are you?” while tucking her further under his arm and against his chest, is immeasurable. She’s safely cocooned against his torso, his freshly showered scent; shaving lotion, laundry detergent, and underneath it all him, the smell of all of it, along with the sound of the rumble of his voice in his chest, his heartbeat all mingling to solidify this memory in her head. Louise knows she won’t ever be able to smell any of the scents again, or hear another’s rumble or heart without picturing this moment in her mind. 

She spends the rest of the evening with his hand on her, on her thigh, her arm, her stomach - curled together and whispering to each other.  Even when some of the boys stop by - albeit briefly, no-one seems to be staying for dinner - he has a hand on her at all times, and no-one seems to blink twice at it. His lack of awareness of personal space, or perhaps of his lack of care about public physical affection completely understood. So, none of them question, even if Louise wasn’t Anita, why she was curled in his lap all evening, 

The other girls hadn’t materialised, some girls had, but not the girls. and Louise worried that it was intentional - that he was ashamed of her or something - was she meant to keep the day a secret? Worse to her than being kept a secret though was the thought that he might not consider her secret-worthy, and the fear that he might laugh her off is enough for her to keep her mouth shut from questioning him. So that night when she leaves, finally, long past midnight, despite her desire to, she doesn’t wait the last few hours until daylight and immediately call them, doesn’t get asked to be dropped off at Frances’ house, or stand beneath Heidi’s window waiting to be let in before crawling into bed with her - girl talk until the sun comes up. She wants to - god she wants to, wants to shout about it - wants to tell everyone that she’s just been on an honest-to-god date with Elvis Presley, that she’d kissed him. With tongues! But despite this desire, she’s almost too nervous to burst the bubble, the special bubble where only she knows; instead having to content herself with whispering the story to the stuffed bear tucked under her pillow - she’s much too old for him to be sat out in the open - or recounting it in as much detail as she dared to her journal.

She’d been sent home with the promise that he’d take her out for dinner the following night - but there’s a call about a change of plans; they’re all going to the cinema instead, Loving You was on the agenda,  and she arrives at Graceland that evening just in time for everyone to be piling into their cars, just barely making it in time for Elvis to smile at her, looking handsome as ever, captain’s hat on his head again and grab her wrist, pulling her into the back of his Cadillac with him. Louise tries her best to enjoy it as she might have done in the past, but she’s so worried about how to behave - if anyone can tell, worried about the other girls’ reaction; is she going to turn into some sort of social pariah? Ruin her chances for friends over a boy? Even if that boy were the only thing any of them truly had in common? And if that boy wasn’t just a boy, but a man, and Elvis at that. She can’t work out if it being Elvis makes it better or worse, so she sits there, primly, worrying her cuticles with her nails and her lips with her teeth. She watches as a tiny well of blood starts to form from where she’d pulled the skin a bit too hard and a bit too far - right to the quick, and she jumps as he covers her hand with his, pulling it out of her lap and onto his. He tuts at her, pulling out a handkerchief to rub at it, 

“Look at the mess you’ve made of that, stop picking at yerself darling. You’ll be sore for days.” She cringes, the desire is only made stronger by his holding of her hand, the worry that the others in the car might notice. They were sitting right there. But she complies, and is eventually soothed by the repetitive motion of his thumb on her palm. He lets go as they pull in, clambering out of the car almost before it’s even fully parked, seemingly anxious to get into the closed theatre. She tries not to be too disappointed at watching him run off with the boys without her, instead waiting for the other girls to climb out of the other cars, joining them in their excited giggling and chatting as they go in. Louise again has to remind herself to act normally, to join in their gossiping about how lucky she was, how excited they were for the film, and pretend she wasn’t a little upset watching him sit three rows ahead of them all. 

By the time the film is over they don’t bother staying for the double feature that had been set up for them, Elvis whisking the group away with the suggestion that even though it was dark out, it was still hot, and did they want to go for a splash in the pool? The night continues in that manner, Louise being seemingly steadfastly ignored, although she succeeds some of the time to forget about it. 

She’s not fretting in the shadows, she was just… taking a minute. He’d paid her no attention in the theatre, and the past half hour had been spent pretending not to be eavesdropping into the boys’ conversation, discussing Anita, singing their praises for her - as much as Elvis would allow - for her figure and face, and very briefly - her personality, before moving onto other girls; who from Hollywood they all wished Elvis would invite over, say, did you hear about that Venetia Stevenson girl coming in a couple of weeks? So on her way back out from the bathroom Louise felt like she was entitled to spend a moment or two in the shadowy corner by the back door. Taking a deep breath as she tried to remind herself not to compare, that maybe they spoke about them like that when they weren’t around. That sure, Anita might be a tiny little thing, but even she probably had to breathe in to button up her skirt - even if it was a smaller size. That, if nothing else, she wasn’t here with them all. 

She wouldn’t deny having had a good time, the film was wonderful, and the night as jolly as any, but still, she couldn’t help but wonder what had gone on that he’d decided to ignore her completely. She’s just getting to the point where she’s ready to return, a smile plastered on her face when suddenly, from the door, an arm reached out and pulled her back against the open door frame. Tugging her against someone’s warm body. She relaxes as soon as she recognises the smell and feel of him and he laughs as she stumbles against him, hands gripping both of her arms. He leans down, pressing a kiss to her cheek, open-mouthed, breathing on her as much as kissing her, before trailing his lips to meet hers. One of the boys shouts for Elvis, something about fireworks, and the next second he’s gone, barely a grin at her dazed expression, before he’s running off again. She can hear the way that the boys tease him about the lipstick smeared across his face, and his tight-lipped response. It makes her smile to herself, the way she has to try and catch her breath, still hidden in her shadowy corner, but no longer feeling invisible. And, though she wishes he’d pull her onto his lap or kiss her in front of everyone, she figures maybe it’s ok to keep it just for herself for the moment too. 

She doesn’t get the chance to see him alone again for a while, there are parties, and gatherings, and then he’s gone again - off on tour and to California for a long couple of months. Louise really tries to accept it all, even though the pictures appearing in the papers, and some of the stories that get relayed back (although never directly by Elvis) makes her heart hurt. It’s difficult, when he seems to look so happy in them, and so do the girls surrounding him - and who is she to judge another girl for feeling herself glow just by standing next to him. A little of his light reflecting onto them. 

One particularly brutal evening, after he’d promised to call but never did, she can’t help but cry into her pillow. This is why he goes for girls like Anita, ones that are a year or two older, they can cope with it. Louise shakes her head to herself - she can cope with it, she’s sure. She can deal. She can be mature, and deal with him out and about and kissing other girls. If Anita can, she can. Accept him inviting the starlets over, that’s fine, they’re only the toy of the moment, and eventually they have to go back to their own glitzy lives. They’re not like her, they don’t have an open invitation to his bedroom or to sit with his mother. But then, they do get private calls with him, and she knows Anita’s been telling anyone who’ll listen about the “just darling notes” he sends her.  Louise doesn’t get notes, sometimes he doesn’t even refer to her by name; simply just as part of the ‘girls’ he seems to always want to talk to as a group - all of them crowded around the receiver at Heidi’s house or Graceland. But then, rarely, sometimes, he slips into the conversation a little check-in, “How’s my lil’ Lou? Bein’ good for me doll?” and it makes Frances look at her in a calculating way, but her heart stutters every-time, every-time she responds

“Of course Elvis! Just waiting for you to come home. I can’t wait to see you.” He never replies the same way, it’s either

“Ah, who could miss this ol’ ugly mug,” or worst of all, “Uh-huh, looking forward to seeing the whole gang again soon.” On one occasion though, it was “Of course, honey, I’ll be seeing you re-eal soon,” and that was enough to give her hope all over again.

[cycas]

Hello. Can I ask you about timeline of Return to Aman? I would love to know when the separate stories happened. Did Maglor visit his mother soon after they arrived to Aman? Was it in their first year or did he wait some time? How long do they live on Tol Eressëa when the house of Fingolfin was released? When Mereth Aderthad happened? I'm thinking about it every time I read RtA, it's bothering me a great deal. Thank you.

I started cheerily answering this thinking: there are only 15 stories, this will be easy, I don't even need to check my notes! And I got about half way through and realised that yes, I needed to check my notes and also I re-read half of it. Which was fun, but, um, sorry for the delay?

So I've ended up with this loooong timeline post.

Return to Aman Timeline

About 400 Second Age : And the wind as sweet as honey in the mouth (Elrond finds Maglor) It's summer in this one, because the eyebright is in bloom. Probably June: it's not so warm that you don't want something to wrap up in outdoors in the evening.

Third Age:

Late September 3021 Remembrance of Time Long Past (Elrond persuades Maglor to join him on the ship, and Galadriel to go along with it, while the Hobbits have a series of jolly good meals and a chat, and completely fail to notice that Elrond has popped out for a while)

October 3021 :

5th Across so Wide a Sea Elrond goes to see his mother, taking a deeply embarrassed Maglor along with him. On their way back to Tol Eressëa afterwards, they meet Finrod on the ferry.

6th In Avallónë by the Sea : Maglor and Finrod discuss poetry and First Age Beleriand.

10th Love, Politics and Pastries : Elrond and Celebrían, finding their way back together.

15th Aiya Eärendil Elenion Ancalima ; Eärendil, returning from a voyage, takes a day off to visit his son. It's a little unfortunate that he encounters Maglor first but fortunately, Frodo smooths thing over. The first autumn storm hits Tol Eressëa.

November 3021

5th Nov Come Home : Maglor, Elrond and Finrod visit Tirion, manage to prevent the resulting fireworks among Maglor fans from getting out of hand, and visit Nerdanel and Finarfin. Nerdanel's roses are still in bloom but getting a bit tatty.

Mereth Aderthad : Once More: With Feeling begins about 15th Nov 3021, but it has time-skips. Elrond and Gil-galad have seen each other before this, of course, but this is their first chance to have a proper reunion banquet.

Then there is the planning for the really big Mereth Aderthad bash, which will be the celebration for Fingolfin's return. I think the planning scene is probably some time in December.

Elrond is busy researching the appeal to the Valar for the return of the House of Fingolfin (and Lalwen) which isn't fully in the story, partly because I have difficulty imagining anyone at the end of the Third Age in Valinor, up to and including Manwe, being able to look Elrond and Celebrian in the face and say 'no' to whatever they think is a good idea.

Fourth Age Year 1

The first part of this year is taken up with Mereth Aderthad planning and organisation, Elrond and his household visiting everyone, and people visiting them. Maglor is working hard on his Mereth Aderthad songs, and basically avoiding talking to anyone but Elrond, Celebrian and the hobbits. Occasionally Gandalf if he doesnt' manage to avoid him in time.

Fingolfin and his house return from the Halls of Mandos triumphant at Midyear's Day in Year 1 of the Fourth Age. If Elrond seems slightly less than entirely cheerful, it might be because the last big party he attended at midsummer was Arwen's wedding two years previously.

(Cirdan is briefly visiting Tol Eressëa in this story but is still officially resident in Lindon: he can't visit Aman.)

By 3rd July 1 FA the main party is over, and Maglor runs into trouble with his Oath: Seeds of Lies.

Even the Very Wise could be later that same year, but I'm inclined to think it is set in the summer of the next year, 2FA or maybe even 3FA, perhaps June since Lalwen has had time to start planning her new house on Tol Eressëa (so she can spend some time with Gil-galad). Nerdanel finally makes up her mind exactly how she feels about Fëanor.

Shadows Cast by Memory I think is slightly out of order in the sequence: the apples in the orchard are ripening when the heroes of Gondolin turn up, having decided that Maglor is too dangerous to be left to Elrond's supervision. I think this is probably still September 1FA, and follows fairly closely after Seeds of Lies. I suspect there was another conference in Tirion after Mereth Aderthad concluded, at which Turgon had a good deal to say and this led to both the appearance of Ecthelion and friends, and also the visit from Fingon and Finrod.

Sometime between 5 FA and 30FA Among the Ainur and Other Animals : Nimloth visits, then Bilbo & Elrond have a Road Trip to Valimar. Bilbo is well enough for a long horse-ride and debating with the Vanyar, though Frodo is still suffering occasionally from seasonal depression. At some point during this period, Celebrian writes to Manwë about Maedhros.

30 FA Many Meetings: The Night is Passing. Celebrimbor returns from the Halls of Mandos, and then there's a timeskip to :

September 61FA: Sam, Cirdan, Elrohir and Celeborn sail to Aman

Also September 61FA : I Will Not Say the Day Is Done in which Maglor comes to an understanding of a kind with both Ecthelion and Celeborn.

100FA The House of Fëanor : Little Pity Aragorn is still alive, though old at the start of this story. Celebrimbor has been running the Fëanorian Quarter of Tirion for almost seventy years, which gives plenty of time for Finrod to hand over to him and for Celebrimbor to have thoroughly got to know the job.

The meeting with Elrond, Finarfin, Celebrimbor etc is a month before the House of Fëanor are released.

1 month later: Fëanor and his sons leave Mandos and come to Tirion.

12 years for Fëanor to get to know the Noldor, during which Maglor leaves Tol Eressea, and lives in Tirion with his brothers. A transition period during which the House of Finarfin get to start considering where they would actually like to live if they didn't have to all spend their time managing Tirion.

112FA Fëanor takes responsibility, and the crown, and begins to make new plans about what to do with it.

120FA September : Aragorn is dead: Arwen is dying. Legolas and Gimli come to Aman in time for Bilbo's twenty-fifty-first birthday, and Frodo's seventeenty-third. Gimli and Legolas meet Maglor, and then Aulë and Fëanor. Elrond and Celebrian grieve for Arwen. Maglor has complicated feelings about his father. Galadriel manages an entire conversation with Fëanor that is reasonably civil.

Nienna speaks with the spirit of Maglor's wife (and her horse)

Sam and Frodo make their Big Decision, and meet Ulmo.

Fëanor Does The Thing. Amazingly, nobody dies or even gets burnt.

Three years (and a bit) to build the ships.

Spring 124FA The Noldor carry out Fëanor's Plan. Fingolfin becomes Fëanor's regent (and effectively co-monarch) in Tirion. Finarfin finally gets to live in the nice house by the beach with peach trees in the garden that he's been pining for since before the Sun rose.

nine years later:

Summer 133 FA Maglor and Finrod's all-night song-writing barbecue on the beach near Alqualondë is interrupted, and that's the last fixed date in the series because after that it starts to fold out from a calendar into myth.

(The weather in each story is more or less seasonal British/North west European weather, just because I found it easier because that's my weather. )