The Hat

Challenge Submission - January 2009The Hat
by Eldraug

Story Notes

Title:  The Hat

Author:  Eldraug

Pairing:  Cobweb/Terzian

Rating:  Soft R

Summary:   Terzian thinks about an evening of changes at home with Cobweb.

Disclaimer:  All characters and settings are the property of Storm Constantine.  I make no money from this work of short fiction

Author note:  I like to think that at one time Cobweb and Terzian were happy together.  This fic is set in that time.

The Hat

Terzian smiled as he pulled his dress uniform hat from the top shelf of his closet.  He loved the feeling of the smooth black leather, the way it shone in the light.  He buffed the silver studs with his sleeve before holding it back to critique his work.  Nodding to himself, he carried it carefully into the bedroom he shared with his chesnari.  Cobweb lay in their huge bed, curled up in the middle hugging a pillow.  Terzian stopped by the bed and smiled down at the fragile creature lost in sleep.  Leaning over, he placed a gentle kiss on Cobweb’s forehead then softly padded over to his chesnari’s dressing table.  Placing the hat carefully right in the center of it, he smiled to himself and left the room.

It was rare that Terzian was ever soume, being such an ouana personality and all, but there were times that he wanted to be taken care of, be controlled, be loved.  Sometimes being soume felt good, even for a Varrish warrior like himself.   He would never let any of the others know what he did and he would never be soume for anyone but Cobweb and even then it was only every now and then, but . . . Gods, when he wanted it, it felt so good.

As he settled in at the barracks in town for a day of paperwork, his mind drifted to what would happen that evening.   Webby would find his hat and know what it meant.  It was a little thing they had worked out when they were newlybonded.  He loved the way Webby looked in his hat – his soft, gentle chesnari with his dress uniform hat perched atop his head.  Webby’s whole demeanor changed when the hat was on his head – gone was the soft, whispery Cobweb and in his place was a dominant, strong har no one but Terzian ever saw.

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Snow Fall

Snow Fall
by Eldraug

Story Notes

Rating: R. Very R. Rooning! Lots of rooning. In the bath. If you are under 18, NO CLIKA!

Pairing: Terzian/Cobweb

Beta: TNT

Author’s note: AU as always! Fluffiness. Extra fluffy fluffiness.

Disclaimer: Storm Constantine owns it all. I own six Reese’s cups and one third of my brain. Wooo.

Summary: Terzian takes care of a cold, injured Cobweb.

Snow Fall

Cobweb sat shivering in the snow. His left ankle was swollen and throbbing, sprained badly enough that it collapsed when he tried to stand. He and Tyson had been playing in the snow when he slipped, his ankle going one way and the rest of him going another. Ty had helped him pack snow around it before he left to get Terzian. The harling had been gone for a while though and Cobweb began to worry. What if Tyson forgot about him? He couldn’t make it back to the house on his own. Wrapping his wet coat closer to his body, he shivered and hoped that someone would come for him soon.

Tyson ran as fast as he four-year-old harling legs would carry him. His Webby was hurt and he had to get his daddy for help. He bolted into the house through the kitchen door where he was promptly stopped by Yarrow.

“Take off those wet boots!” Yarrow growled as he looked up from his soup.

“But . . . but . . .” Tyson began.

“Take them off! Now!”

Tyson kicked off his boots and tried to run out of the kitchen. Yarrow, however, wasn’t going to have puddles all over the house from a snowy harling. He grabbed Tyson by the back of the coat and pulled him back.

“You are soaked!” the har growled as he pulled the outerclothes off the harling. “Honestly, Tiahaar Cobweb lets you get away with too much sometimes!”

At the mention of Cobweb’s name, tears came to Tyson’s eyes. Throwing back his head, he screamed, “DADDY!” Read the rest of this entry »

Tyson’s Bath

Tyson’s bath
by Eldraug

Story Notes

Rating: Hmm. PG. I think. I’ve never posted non-smuttage before.

Author’s notes: VERY AU – as always. Ty is about three in this – at that fun age when harlings know everything and their parents are total idiots in their minds.

Beta: Three guesses. As, always, TNT.

Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing. It’s all Storm Constantine’s – character, places, etc. The brain is still on lease-to-own option and I just finished my last Diet Coke. Such is my life.

Summary: Terzian gets Tyson ready for bed.

Tyson’s Bath

“NO! I won’t! You can’t make me!”

With one well-aimed kick, Tyson had freed himself from Terzian’s arms. While the Varr was doubled over in pain, Tyson leapt off the floor where he has been dumped when harling foot had connected with ouana-lim. The harling looked up at his father then bolted down the long hallway. He skittered into Cobweb’s sitting rooms and hid under the couch panting softly.

Feeling smug about getting the best of his father, he didn’t keep a good eye out for Terzian’s boots coming into the room. Tyson soon found himself being yanked out from under the couch and whisked into his father’s tight grip. The harling tried to place another liberating kick but Terzian was expecting it and tucked the squirming harling under his arm so Tyson’s feet flailed safely behind him.

“Tyson,” Terzian began evenly. “You need a bath.”

“No. I don’t,” Ty answered, cocking one eyebrow and looking very much like his hostling.

Terzian sighed through his nose and said, “Yes. You do. You smell and Cobweb will have a fit if you get into bed like that.”

“You don’t have to tell him,” Tyson suggested, smiling.

Terzian had reached the end of his patience. Putting the harling down, he growled softly, “Tyson. Get naked and into the bath. Now.”

“Fine!” Tyson shouted. He stomped back down the hall, grumbling about not stinking and Cobweb not even being there and that he didn’t have to know everything. He grudgingly stripped off, dumping his clothes in a pile on the floor of Cobweb and Terzian’s bedroom and stomped into the bathroom. He stared at the tub.

“Daddy!”

Terzian poked his head around the door. Tyson stood, his arms crossed and tapping his foot while frowning. It took all his Varrish control for Terzian not to burst out laughing. The harling looked ridiculous, trying to look fierce while stand in the bathroom naked. Clearing his throat, he came into the bathroom.

“Yes, Ty?”

“There’s no bubbles,” Tyson pouted.

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Mirror, Mirror

Mirror, Mirror
by Eldraug

Story Notes

Rating:  R-ish. I guess. I think. Maybe PG-13. Um. Okay, if you’re under 18, don’t clika.

Author’s notes: Yet another in the Furniture series. This time it’s Thiede’s mirror. Completely AU as always.
Beta:  TNT – my ever present and always loved beta.

Disclaimer:  As always, I own nothing. Nada. Nyet. Zippo. It’s all Storm’s. I’m just playing with it. Please don’t sue me. Obviously a brain that keeps coming up with this stuff isn’t worth owning. And it’s really all that I have. Sort of. Once GLHEC gets their hooks out of it . . .

Mirror, Mirror

Seriously. If that idiot looks into me one more time and remarks how beautiful he is, by all that is good and shiny in this world, I will arrange to have someone pop a cap in his ass. I mean, honestly! How often can one har toss his red hair over his shoulder and pout before it gets boring? How vain can one har be?! Ah, but when one is a mirror, that’s about all one can expect. That and hara doing stupid, messed-up shite and looking at themselves while doing it. Gods, sometimes I wish I had been made into a coach bumper or a window or something. He’s not the only annoying one, though.

I completely want to throw myself off the wall when the dark-haired one named Pellaz comes to visit. That har’s gonna be bald from brushing his hair so much. And he sings when he does it which sound pretty much like a cat caught in a washing machine. Then he asks his reflection who the prettiest har in all of Immanion is. If I could barf, I would. I so want to say “Not you, soon-to-be baldie! And, by the way, I saw your chesnari rooning Thiede seven ways from Sunday last month.” But, I am destined to be a silent observer of the hara who come to this place.

And while I’m on the topic of Pellaz’s chesnari, being in the same room with that har is about as much fun as having your silver scraped. Not only is he vain, as most hara are, but he’s loud, drinks too much, and likes to watch himself when he roons. If they only knew how stupid they look! Cal looks somewhere between getting ready to throw up, which I have also witnessed from Mr. Calanthe Drunkypants, and thinking too hard about something that confuses him. Like first-year harling math. I honestly don’t know why ANYhar would roon somehar that looks that funny when doing it. When he’s not rooning and making faces at himself, he’s either drunk or hung over. Skinny, drunk, and stupid is no way to go through life, but no one has clued Cal in on that yet. I don’t even want to talk about the time he got drunk and popped into the Otherlanes. I’m sure some poor realm is living with perpetual rain in the form of har barf courtesy of Immanion’s Favorite Drunk.

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Carpet Talk

Carpet Talk
by Eldraug

Story Notes

Title: Carpet Talk

Author: Eldraug (mirkwoodwolf@hotmail.com)

Rating: PG-13-ish

Pairings: Oh, the usual ones.

Beta: ME! So all the errors are mine! Mine, mine, mine! Pre-read for quality, however, by the amazing Tolliel, the wonderful Taelin, and the always-enchanting Marchwarden23. Sloppy Wolfie snogs to you all.

Summary: The carpet in front of Terzian’s fireplace in his office speaks of its life at Forever.

Author’s notes: I read a piece called Porcelain Memories over at Forever and it had me in stitches for hours. Then, I thought, ‘Well, if the toilet can write its memoirs, so can the rug in Terzian’s office.’

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to Storm Constantine. I don’t even own my brain that keeps coming up with this idiocy. That still belongs to Great Lakes Higher Education Corporation. Please don’t sue me. It’s truly not worth it.

Carpet Talk

If the walls of Forever could speak, they would have hundreds of tales to tell. But me – I have thousands. I have been walked on, sat on, slept on, eaten on, thrown up on, peed on, and rooned on. I have been moved to various locations in the house, finally coming to land here. In front of the fire. In Terzian’s office. I am a rug.

I began my life as an assortment of yarns woven together by skillful hands then shipped, rather unpleasantly, to a stall in the Galhea marketplace. I was selected by the consort of Terzian because he likes the color green and I do have to say that I am probably the most lovely deep green patterned rug that Galhea has ever seen. I spent my first few years at Forever in pleasant repose in the formal living room. Few ever walked on me and I lived in relative quiet. My only diversion was the weekly beating delivered by a rather sour har who simply hated carpets.

But, my quiet life of formality was not to last. Tiahaar Cobweb decided that “his” rug should be in his room and Terzian, never one to say no to his Webby, agreed. I was unceremoniously yanked out from under the furniture and drug upstairs. I spent the next two months being stomped on by “my” tiahaar as he paced back and forth, back and forth. “Pick another spot,” I wanted to shout at him. “You’ll wear me through!” As the weeks passed, his steps grew heavier and slower until one day he just lay down. I was pleased, as now I wouldn’t be threadbare in one long stripe from his pacing.

I never could have guessed what would happen next. My tiahaar bolted up, screaming and grabbing a handful of my tassels. Suddenly, there were more hara crawling all over me, one shouting at him to push. Push? Push what? I realized too late that I didn’t want to know. In the middle of my intricate floral design, I suddenly felt a sticky wetness. What was happening? Tiahaar Cobweb was screaming and cursing and rather colorfully telling anyone who would listen what he was going to do with Terzian’s ouana-lim when he severed it from his body. With his teeth. With one ear-splitting scream and a painful yank at my tassels, I felt more sticky wetness from my tiahaar. Then the room was silent.

For several weeks a smooth lump lay wrapped in blankets on my edge closest to the fire. After Carpet-Hating Househar cleaned up my center flower, I, once again, became host to my tiahaar. He sat with the lump all the time, singing to it and cooing in a most irritating manner. Amid much stickiness and water one afternoon, Cobweb cried out happily as the lump hatched. Again, my center flower bore the brunt of this event too. It seems a harling was born. Cobweb named him Swift – a rather fitting name in some aspects, as I would soon find out.

Swift spent his first few days on me. He rolled around, learning quickly to crawl so he could chew on my tassels. I spent Swift’s first few days covered in harling spit and once-digested vegetables. He grew, as harlings do, and soon I would be covered in many more interesting substances thanks to my young tiahaar.

Sitting in the middle of me one day, Swift suddenly stood up and announced “Me wee” and then did so right on the left side of my center flower. He was so proud of himself that he went to get Cobweb and Terzian to show them how he “make wee for flowers”. Here I lay, covered in harling wee, and all they can do is say how wonderful he is! While Carpet-Hating Househar cleaned up Swift’s pride and joy, Cobweb and Terzian told him that he was a “big harling” now and needed to “wee in the potty.” Good, I thought, he can be the toilet’s problem now.

Oh, if a little harling wee had been my only problem from that one! But no! Swift had many surprises in store for me. Where did he bring the cat to have kittens? On me, of course! Where did he eat his lunch every day, getting everything from mayonnaise to wine all over? On me, of course! Where did he want to be when he was sick, particularly when he was throwing up or exceptionally snotty? On me, of course! Where did he do his first experimenting with sheh? On me, again. Where did he perform his post-sheh experimentation throwing up? Me again! Swift and I had quite the relationship. One that I wished one of us would sever at any cost.

My salvation, or so I thought, came in the way of an errant cigarette butt that set fire to the old rug in Terzian’s office. Careless har! But, being the shrewd carpet I am, I knew I was the best one to fill the now vacant spot in front of the fire. I was still beautiful, my pile was still thick and soft, and Tiahaar Cobweb wanted to be sure that everyone coming into Terzian’s office knew he was the Lord’s consort. I was the perfect object to state Cobweb’s claim to all of Terzian – office included. I was almost glad to see Carpet-Hating Househar the day he came to “freshen” me with a good beating before moving me into Terzian’s office.

For several months, I lived in quiet luxury. Tiahaar Terzian was hardly ever in his office and when he was he was always at his desk. I grew quite accustomed to being a show carpet again. If I had known then what I know now, I would have stayed with Swift where the only thing that would be spilled on me was sheh and the contents of Swift’s stomach after a night of drinking.

I soon came to find out that, when he no longer went out to battle with his troops, Terzian’s office was twenty-percent office, twenty-percent drinking hall, twenty-percent hotel, and forty- percent brothel. When he wasn’t rooning Tiahaar Cobweb into a screaming, clawing, howling har, he was sleeping on me because Tiahaar Cobweb found out he was rooning somehar else into a screaming, clawing, howling har. I have never heard a har snore like Tiahaar Terzian! I could feel my weaving coming loose after a night with him snoring on me!

Oh, and he thinks he’s so smooth when he’s chatting up some har. He’ll start with sheh on the couch and massages then moves to me and the fireplace. He’ll say something oh-so-clever such as ‘I’m going to roon you into the carpet, my little one.’ How very original, Tiahaar! It was relatively amusing the first hundred times, but now it’s just annoying. Yes. Roon into the carpet. You are truly a charmer, my Lord Terzian. I can’t even begin to remember exactly what was on me when from whom. I’m sure that I had remnants from all of the Twelve Tribes on me at sometime or another. I don’t know how he keeps track of all of them. I’m sure he has a register somewhere in that office entitled “Hara I’ve Rooned on the Lovely Green Carpet in my Office.”

And then, Calanthe came. What a disaster! That har is not only the clumsiest creature ever, but he also “forgets” about where he leaves burning cigarettes and is eternally dirty. Within a month, he had set my fringe on fire twice, spilled wine on me countless times, and trailed horse leavings across me more times than I care to recall. I don’t know what Terzian sees in him! Tiahaar Cobweb is so tidy and proper and Calanthe har Filthy Boots is like the anti-Cobweb. Even aruna is messy with him! I don’t even want to know how Carpet-Hating Househar got that mess off of me.

A pearl soon came along and I was once again subjected to harling wee, throw up, slobber, and an endless stream of spilled substances. Only this time it was worse! Tyson took after his hostling far too much. Oh, how I longed for my days with Swift. He at least tried. Tyson simply traipsed mud and filth from one end of me to the other, not even noticing what he was doing. That went on for decades. And when Tyson and Calanthe were in the house . . . I don’t even want to think about that.

My life has grown quiet again. Terzian is gone to battle and has been gone for a very long time. Tiahaar Cobweb comes in and sits on me sometimes, lovingly fondling the faint stains that still cling to my nap with a sad smile on his face. Sometimes he sleeps on me. I feel him crying softly until he falls into gentle rhythmic breathing. I have seen much for just a rug, just a collection of fibers woven together. I suppose the lives of the hara here at Forever are much like that too – bits of fibers woven inextricably together.

The End

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