#modverse

Hi Rosie 🥀

You might be dead but do you KNOW that I love you???

Hi ace-chaser!

I may be dead, this is true, but I am so glad to know that you love me!

I am confused how you know me, though...

(elf cats live a long time shhh)

...

The furniture in the parlor was . . . stiff.

Not hard, exactly – the sofa where Gimli sat was cushioned enough that no one could have complained, and even if that had been the problem, there were enough throw pillows (lying scattered across the floor where Legolas had tossed them) to remedy them. It was just that it was almost . . . a little too upright to be quite comfortable, as though made for someone with better posture than he had – even if Legolas, lounging horizontally with his legs across Gimli’s lap, seemed to belie that thought. It was like everything in this manor so far: ornately-carved taps and deep-basined sinks; vast archways and tall, narrow windows with fastenings too high to comfortably open. Beautiful architecture: a building made to be looked at, not lived in.

And yet live in it they did – Legolas, who had navigated this place as easily as he did his apartment at home, knowing exactly which staircase to tug Gimli up to dump their luggage unceremoniously on the bed, rummaging unself-consciously through a tall liquor cabinet to help himself (and Gimli, too) to wine that would have come with an absolutely forbidding price tag in Minas Tirith. Thranduil, who had walked in on Legolas doing this in the kitchen and made no comment but a droll, “More excited to see the wine than your own father, then?”

He sat perfectly upright across the room in his own armchair now, nodding along as Legolas spun an epic narrative of their train journey here. Gimli sat quietly and watched him – watched them, father and son, the ways they took up space in this sitting room. Thranduil’s posture made the space into a council table, the armchair into its head; he sat as though holding court – but Legolas was the one who ran it, whose conversation held the room in rapture, both of them rotating into the captivating orbit of his presence. Gimli wasn’t sure how he felt yet about the Prime Minister of Eryn Lasgalen, but this at least he could admire – that he had made this place, stiff and upright as it was, a home for Legolas.

“– and then he was like, ‘Who do you think you’re visiting, the PM?’ and Gimli just said, ‘Yes,’” Legolas was giggling now, nudging Gimli’s thigh with a heel. “Completely straight-faced! I couldn’t stop laughing. Tell him the rest, meleth.”

Gimli laughed, despite himself – and was this a skill that Legolas had inherited from his father, then? He could feel the effort to put him at ease, to spread Legolas’s own comfort into Gimli – and it was working, softening the room around him like the furniture at his back.

He closed a hand fondly around Legolas’s ankle, trying not to track Thranduil’s eyes tracking the motion. “There’s not much more to say,” he said. “Or, at least, he didn’t seem to think so. Shut up for the rest of the train ride. Not a peep.”

“It was great,” Legolas interjected. “You would have loved it, Dad.”

“I’m sure I would.” Was that smile indulgent or tolerant? Either one was more than Gimli had dared to expect. “Well, I am glad you made it here, at any rate.”

“Me too.” Legolas twisted to aim his most endearing hopeful smile right into Gimli’s face. “I’m glad to show Gimli this place finally.”

“I had hoped you would manage it before your wedding,” said Thranduil. “Some other fathers might have hard words to say about that.” This with an arched eyebrow to match the wryness of his voice. “But, ah well, at least you came eventually. Oh – hello, Smudge.”

Gimli blinked, the non sequitur soaring directly over his head. Had he missed something? – but then, even as he opened his mouth to speak, a patter-clacking interjected in the silence and he turned towards the sound to see a slender tortoiseshell cat slinking its way through the gap in the half-ajar door. It moved very slowly, one dainty paw in front of the other, pale eyes narrowed as it took them all in.

“Smudge?” Gimli said.

“Smudge!” Legolas exclaimed with delight at the same time. “My best friend! Oh, Gimli, she’s been around forever. How is she doing, Dad?”

“See for yourself.” The cat – Smudge – made her way slowly across the room, pausing in front of the couch where they sat even as Legolas dropped a hand to the floor. She sniffed delicately at his fingers, nosing up and down his hand before stretching her head forward until his fingers parted around her ears – but just as his hand contracted to scratch her head, she turned deliberately away, letting his fingers drag along the full length of her body before leaving him to hop up onto the arm of Thranduil’s chair.

“Oh,” Legolas laughed. “Is someone mad at me for being away?” His voice turned into a croon at those last words, the tone he used when mock-scolding Athelas and Simbelmyne. “Were you so, so lonely without me?”

“You might have come back to visit earlier for her sake, if not for your father’s.” Thranduil’s long-suffering tone was spoiled by the twitch of a smile at the corners of his lips – and, to Gimli’s amazement, by the way the cat shoved her head into his hand, his fingers curling around the top of her head to scratch vigorously behind her ears. It might have looked regal, a monarch with his cat, except for the loud purring of the cat and the speed of his scratching fingers – not halfhearted at all, whatever he might claim.

“How are the kittens?” Legolas said. “I haven’t seen a picture in weeks – they must be so big!”

“Big enough to cause trouble.” Thranduil waved his unoccupied hand dismissively. “They’re around somewhere – they always turn up just when you don’t want them. Just like her.”

Did his voice – was that a shade of Legolas’s own croon in his voice?

“Smudge,” Gimli repeated, looking at the cat with a new respect. His first day in the home of Lasgalen’s Prime Minister and he had somehow already seen him soften!

“Smudge,” said Legolas, so fondly Gimli could practically see the hearts in his eyes. “She’s been around since I was a little kid; she’s like the mascot of this place. Cats live a long time here,” he added, at Gimli’s questioning look. “Must be the air.”

The air, or maybe the elves themselves – something about them that kept everything around them just a little younger than it should have been, just a little more sturdy. “How old is she then?”

“Late twenties now?” Thranduil mused. “She was only a kitten when she moved in” – moved in, Gimli noted, as if it had been a business negotiation – “but we didn’t know how old exactly.”

“But I was only a few years old,” said Legolas. “So yeah, must be late twenties. She was my best friend when I was little, Gimli. But she’s got a good few years left in her. Don’t you, Smudge? Come here!” He clicked his tongue.

Apparently, the cat’s ire was no more serious than Thranduil’s, for she hopped down from his chair and pattered her way across the floor back to Legolas’s beckoning fingers. When she reached them, though, he swept a hand under her and scooped her tiny body into the air as she squawked in displeasure. But Legolas only laughed, holding her up above his head as her paws flailed in the air.

“Ohh, you’re such a sweet girl, aren’t you,” he cooed, and lowered her onto his chest. “Come here, yes, that’s it.” In the same motion she had applied to Thranduil, Smudge drove her head into Legolas’s face, their noses colliding as Legolas giggled again. “Do you forgive me for leaving? Yes, I missed you, too. Oh, yes” – He laughed helplessly as the cat nuzzled his face, his neck, her paws now kneading at his chest. “Come here, I have someone for you to meet.” And without further ado he scooped her up again, sliding his whole body upright in the same motion, to present her to Gimli.

“Be careful,” Thranduil warned. “She doesn’t always take to strangers.”

“It’ll be okay,” said Legolas. “Just give her your hand to sniff.”

Gimli extended it cautiously. He’d never been much of a cat person – had never really understood how they ticked. But if this cat loved Legolas, surely they had at least that in common, right?

Her whiskers tickled his fingers, her nose cold and wet and velvety as it brushed just against his fingertips: once, twice. She withdrew, as if thinking – and then, cautiously, she nuzzled up against him just as she had with Legolas and Thranduil.

Gimli glanced to Legolas, and at his encouraging nod, he dared to scratch her behind the ears, too.

“She likes you,” said Legolas, grinning. “See, I told you she would!” He rested a hand on Gimli’s shoulder, warm and reassuring and meaningful. “Everybody does.”

In that moment, Gimli wasn’t sure Legolas was talking about the cat.

He flicked his eyes across the room to where Thranduil still sat, watching them – still with that tiny, almost soft smile, as though at the sight of his son, all of his dryness couldn’t help but fall away.

At least they had that in common. And Gimli felt, all of a sudden, a rush of fondness for Thranduil – for his father-in-law – for the home he had made for Legolas here, for the love he felt for his son and his cat. For sharing his fancy furniture and his expensive wine with Gimli, for welcoming him here, for the sake of the person they both loved.

I've been thinking about the phenomenon in general quite a bit lately, because one thing writing a fusion modverse gets you is a lot of "I hate modern AUs but." And as someone who won't seek it out on a first fic go-around, but generally really enjoys it, I wanted to give it some love.

I see a lot of distaste for modern AUs of fantasy or sci-fi fandoms specifically describing them as dull compared to their original settings. Obviously, fanfic is for us all to chase our bliss, but I find that argument so interesting because while modern AUs are often a different kind of bliss from the source setting, so many of the ones I've encountered are actually so vibrant and interesting? I love a modern AU that takes place in a very specific setting or centers on a very specific thing, because I just love seeing people geek out on a thing they love. I've learned so many random real facts about hobbies or places or careers through modern AUs! Musical settings that are clearly a place to work out personal music nerdery and stereotyping, imagining each character as their corresponding instrument; athletic AUs that get into the nuances of sports culture. (This is something I do myself in modverse with GImli's teaching career, as someone who has been in or adjacent to higher ed for many years now. Once I sent @deheerkonijn a message that was just a bunch of different academic personnel's email signatures.)

And then there's another flavor of modern AU that I adore, which is the way that canon events or relationships are reimagined into a more familiar setting. I love when people will take injuries or betrayals or fantastical situations from the original story and recast them into a more familiar setting: a fatal duel recast as a corporate takeover; an injury imagined as an accident. I like trying to spot all the details and being delighted at how things fit together.

I think that if canonverse fanfic is about exploring the world more deeply or trying to get "more" story, modern AU can be a really fun way of using the story or the characters as a way to explore/write about beloved familiar things, or a way of playing with and scrutinizing the story to capture its essentials in a totally different setting.

Politics........I guess

Hehehehe thank you for askspamming, it makes me very very happy!

This one is a collab with the incomparable @deheerkonijn (who is probably going to get a mention in all these asks, because the beauty of fandom flow is that even on stuff you aren't actively working on together, talking about stuff All The Time leads to a lot of ideas for both people!). She also titled the document, hehe, which I think is a great compliment for how much impact I have had on modverse.

A thing about me is that I love fake politics. They haven't made it into the stories yet, but I have the modern forms of government roughly sketched out for I believe all the major kingdoms we visit in modverse (Mirkwood, Gondor, Erebor). DHK patiently lets me ramble about the one single poli sci class I took in undergrad a whole lifetime ago, and it's very fun for me. But this story, despite the title, is not actually 100% about politics!

A few months after his move to Minas Tirith, Legolas reconnects with some old acquaintances.

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//when you answer this send it to at least one other writer you follow on tumblr!

"Legolas’s lip juts out, as though something in the specific political arrangement of Gondor – which no, Gimli doesn’t quite understand himself; he’s content with the knowledge that Aragorn is way better than the other guy for things like visas and sustainable design and basically everything Gimli cares about – has offended him personally."

(The really sad thing about this is how old this is . . . I'm so sorry, @deheerkonijn, I swear I'll come back when I have more space in my brain! But this is from a long-dormant collab with DHK that I swear will someday be done!)

Hey!! Thank you so much for this - sorry it took so long to respond. There is a lot more to this universe than is written; much of it exists in @deheerkonijn's drawings (if you don't follow her on Twitter, I highly recommend that for some of the fleshing-out stuff), but a lot of it just exists in this nebulous space in our ongoing chats where we are figuring things out a bit at a time, according to what is exciting to us! We do have a Fellowship origin story that we are playing with, but it may be quite some time before we manage a written form of it. It's not Three Hunters-specific but it contains our idea of how the Fellowship came together. (I may just be hinting that it exists in the vain hope that it will nudge us to work on it, but that may be some time.)

Re: the elven sexuality, that comes from a specific subset of elf fanon interpreting Tolkien's Laws and Customs among the Eldar essay. It's not in the letter of the text itself, but the idea that sex as marriage for elves has spawned a devoted subset of fanon that claims that elves are essentially biologically demi and only awaken sexually upon the desire for marriage. This is both of our preferred fanon, so it's how we write them - but its canonicity is debatable!