Sildil and Mirien's Weekend
May. 31st, 2004 12:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sildilAnd here for your delight dear readers,
Delivery of the One Ring to the fires of Mordor had nothing on Mirien and Sildil's adventure in attempting to see the exhibition of paintings that Sildil, ever the artist, wanted to see.
It was not helped by the fact that a) Sildil was blithely convinced of his abilities as a route planner and tracker, and b) was crap at it.
It should have given Mirien a clue when the pair had sat for about 30 minutes on a station platform listening to the disembodied voice announcing 'there are no trains between Stratford and North Greenwich' and watching the colourful display of lights informing passengers of the same fact. Only to realise belatedly after much indignant huffing on Sildil's part that yes, in fact, there WERE no trains running through the station and yes, the recorded announcement did actually explain why no trains had in fact passed through the station. Mirien showed great self restraint and diplomacy in not immediately draining Sil's blood on the spot.
So the intrepid pair backtracked somewhat and eventually found themselves after many, many stairs closer to their destination, only to encounter their next hazard.
Problem: The Gallery was on the other side of the river.
Solution: Find the bridge.
Once again, Sil's extraordinary Sindar tracking skills came into use, and he ascended and descended stairs, ascended and descended escalators, while Mirien with impressive Noldo restraint merely changed into a vampire mist and drifted up and down sniggering slightly.
Sil resisted the urge to slap Mirien stupid. He couldn't anyway. He was a mist.
The arrived at the gallery a mere 45 minutes late for their timed ticket. Sil threatened to throw a hissy fit if the nice ticket lady did not let them in, but Mirien smiled sweetly, showing his teeth, and they were allowed through the ticket barrier.
Feeling thoroughly cultured afterwards, Mirien and Sil decided to get some lunch. Well, Sildil did. Mirien being a vampire elf had to content himself with watching....hungrily....as Sil tucked into his picnic., occasionally giving nervous glances at the elf sitting just a little too closely at his side.
Feeling replete and rested, the friends decided to head back to their lodgings and make themselves beautiful for the next part of the weekend. THE MEAL with the Galadrim.
One would have thought that the pair had realised that if anything was left that could go wrong it would. So it should not have surprised them that they had neglected to get any money out of a cash machine, and found themselves penniless. Surely the hotel would have one they could use? But no, the nearest one was four stations back along the railway line, up two flights of stairs, down three, back up the three, down the two and back along the track to get to THE MEAL, and this all dressed in their formal robes.
Mirien twitched in disgust as each grubby and sweaty human brushed past, giving them the 'Elrond eyebrow' if they came close and sniffing disdainfully.
By the time the pair arrived at the meal they hit the Miruvor. A VERY large glass each, followed by another made them both feel MUCH more cheerful and they vowed that they were each other's very bestest friend and that they both thought the other's intended was a VERY lucky elf.
The meal was a delight and the Galadrim not at all stuffy or snobby, his previous reputation obviously due to the fact that he was about to be killed off by Mr P J at the time.
Illuminations were made and signed and Mirien and Sil retired to bed very happy elves. Sil retired for the night while Mirien used the palantir to talk to his betrothed, among others. Sil slept soundly and woke refreshed and insufferably cheerful.
After a hearty breakfast, at least on the non vampire elf's part, Sil gaily led Mirien back into the town from the rather forsaken edges they had been staying in. Sil couldn't help but snigger and comment on the Noldo's need to carry everything with him including the kitchen sink, while he showed his true Sindar heritage and casually threw his small, lightweight bag over his shoulder and smirked. Not for the last time did Mirien wonder whether or not Sil would miss a pint of blood or two...or maybe three or four.
The trip was rounded off by a trip to the British Museum where Sil and Mirien sat drinking tea surrounded by naked torsos. OK, they were carved in stone, but elves can dream!
AND I got![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
anuanu and anandsdiary signed piccies!!!...I promised Nu I would if I was drunk enough.....guess I was!
Delivery of the One Ring to the fires of Mordor had nothing on Mirien and Sildil's adventure in attempting to see the exhibition of paintings that Sildil, ever the artist, wanted to see.
It was not helped by the fact that a) Sildil was blithely convinced of his abilities as a route planner and tracker, and b) was crap at it.
It should have given Mirien a clue when the pair had sat for about 30 minutes on a station platform listening to the disembodied voice announcing 'there are no trains between Stratford and North Greenwich' and watching the colourful display of lights informing passengers of the same fact. Only to realise belatedly after much indignant huffing on Sildil's part that yes, in fact, there WERE no trains running through the station and yes, the recorded announcement did actually explain why no trains had in fact passed through the station. Mirien showed great self restraint and diplomacy in not immediately draining Sil's blood on the spot.
So the intrepid pair backtracked somewhat and eventually found themselves after many, many stairs closer to their destination, only to encounter their next hazard.
Problem: The Gallery was on the other side of the river.
Solution: Find the bridge.
Once again, Sil's extraordinary Sindar tracking skills came into use, and he ascended and descended stairs, ascended and descended escalators, while Mirien with impressive Noldo restraint merely changed into a vampire mist and drifted up and down sniggering slightly.
Sil resisted the urge to slap Mirien stupid. He couldn't anyway. He was a mist.
The arrived at the gallery a mere 45 minutes late for their timed ticket. Sil threatened to throw a hissy fit if the nice ticket lady did not let them in, but Mirien smiled sweetly, showing his teeth, and they were allowed through the ticket barrier.
Feeling thoroughly cultured afterwards, Mirien and Sil decided to get some lunch. Well, Sildil did. Mirien being a vampire elf had to content himself with watching....hungrily....as Sil tucked into his picnic., occasionally giving nervous glances at the elf sitting just a little too closely at his side.
Feeling replete and rested, the friends decided to head back to their lodgings and make themselves beautiful for the next part of the weekend. THE MEAL with the Galadrim.
One would have thought that the pair had realised that if anything was left that could go wrong it would. So it should not have surprised them that they had neglected to get any money out of a cash machine, and found themselves penniless. Surely the hotel would have one they could use? But no, the nearest one was four stations back along the railway line, up two flights of stairs, down three, back up the three, down the two and back along the track to get to THE MEAL, and this all dressed in their formal robes.
Mirien twitched in disgust as each grubby and sweaty human brushed past, giving them the 'Elrond eyebrow' if they came close and sniffing disdainfully.
By the time the pair arrived at the meal they hit the Miruvor. A VERY large glass each, followed by another made them both feel MUCH more cheerful and they vowed that they were each other's very bestest friend and that they both thought the other's intended was a VERY lucky elf.
The meal was a delight and the Galadrim not at all stuffy or snobby, his previous reputation obviously due to the fact that he was about to be killed off by Mr P J at the time.
Illuminations were made and signed and Mirien and Sil retired to bed very happy elves. Sil retired for the night while Mirien used the palantir to talk to his betrothed, among others. Sil slept soundly and woke refreshed and insufferably cheerful.
After a hearty breakfast, at least on the non vampire elf's part, Sil gaily led Mirien back into the town from the rather forsaken edges they had been staying in. Sil couldn't help but snigger and comment on the Noldo's need to carry everything with him including the kitchen sink, while he showed his true Sindar heritage and casually threw his small, lightweight bag over his shoulder and smirked. Not for the last time did Mirien wonder whether or not Sil would miss a pint of blood or two...or maybe three or four.
The trip was rounded off by a trip to the British Museum where Sil and Mirien sat drinking tea surrounded by naked torsos. OK, they were carved in stone, but elves can dream!
AND I got
anuanu and anandsdiary signed piccies!!!...I promised Nu I would if I was drunk enough.....guess I was!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-31 01:21 am (UTC)Erm... I don't think Sil should let Nov know that he's been on the Miruvor again... unless he has a desire to stare at that wonderful picture of Galadriel again...
Lúthien
- who is now so insanely jealous, it's just not funny anymore *sulks*
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-31 04:18 am (UTC)*panics*
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-31 09:54 am (UTC)I'm glad you two had fun, though next time perhaps Taurnil and I should be invited, hmm? *elrond eyebrow, too* Someone should keep the two of you in line!
(and how come I didn't get a picture, either?? huh? huh?)
~Taelin...who's even MORE jealous, as has very little hope of ever getting over there to do something like that.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-31 10:26 am (UTC)..and so, so sorry...I ran out of money my dear, or I would have got EVERYONE a photo!