01 Jun 05 10:47 PM
Hello, my prospective victims!
I need a beta-reader(s)--the more the merrier-- for a WIP Thranduil romance Im doing. I'm looking for someone who will both proofread (I have basic to intermediate grammar skills, and I speak english etc... I just miss a few things every now and then ;)) and offer their opinion/constructive criticism on plot/characterisation/dialogue/etc...
I don't intend to make it any higher than PG-13 at the highest, and there will be no violence or offensive material.I'm aiming for a more humorous romance than the really mushy-gushy stuff. Its really a very happy/fluffy story with just a bit of sarcastic humor here and there...
Ive got a little bit done right now (let's say...4-5 chapters?) and after Ive exhausted that stash of writing, updates/new stuff will probably be slow to come, no more than a weekly submission (most likely: no promises though.) I dont know whether or not to call it novel-length and I dont mean to be deceiving...My computer says I currently have 18 thousand words and I consider myself 1/3 to a half of the way through. Make of that what you will...
Here is a sample:
The next day, he, Gelir, Rian and Celedir sat silently in a tall oak just outside the palace, analyzing Thranduil’s current situation. Or rather, analyzing Faeleth—her behavior that is. Thranduil looked glum, and seemed only to be analyzing the extent of his misery while he was without the hum of Faeleth’s laughter, the sound of her voice, the feel of her hand in his, the look of her beautiful eyes as she beamed at him, the…
“So you say she struck you?” Gelir asked incredulously.
“Aye, I could not get over that fact either. Perhaps you were just imagining things, Thranduil?” confided Rian.
Thranduil groaned without opening his mouth and shut his eyes. They had been over this a million and one times.
“Yes. Now if you would be so kind as not to ask the question again, I would be most grateful.” he replied tersely.
“My apologies, friend. I simply cannot believe she struck you. That is so beneath her.” said Gelir as he thoughtfully stared out into the trees.
“Apparently it is not.” Thranduil concluded.
“Aye, well…What do you say we wait a few days, come back and tell her you’ve matured and see what she says?” asked Gelir.
Thranduil sighed patiently.
“Somehow, I do not think that will work.” answered Celedir, who had been carefully examining a twig growing to the right of his ear.
“Well, what else can we do?”
“We could tie her up and lock her in your father’s dungeons until she falls in love with you, again.” offered Gelir, with more than a little humor implied—at least Thranduil hoped he was being facetious. Rian threw an acorn at him and rolled his eyes.
“Aye we might do just as well to create a magic potion of Haradhrim flies and Oliphaunt saliva mixed with Ent river water to will force her to fall in love with him again.”
Now it was Celedir’s turn to groan.
“You are all missing the point! It is not that she does not love him, she simply does not wish to marry him at this time!”
“Oh!” cried Gelir, as though realization had suddenly dawned upon him, “Well, if that’s the only issue, why can’t he just wait until makes up her mind to marry him?”
This time, all three of the remaining party groaned and covered their faces in anguish. How much longer would they be forced to endure Gelir’s inanity? Sensing that the time for rational thinking had come to an end, Thranduil took hold of the situation.
“If you all have no other insight to offer me that might shed light on the situation, I ask that you would leave. And please, do not to return until you have contrived some method of getting Faeleth back to me.”
Thranduil announced, signaling the end of the group brainstorming session.
“Very well, you are in a very sour mood, friend. So I will not begrudge you your privacy.” said Gelir, and he darted off into the night.
“Aye, I’m afraid I have little to offer by way of help to you, Thranduil, and so I will take my leave.” Rian bowed his head, smiled sympathetically, and dropped out of the trees to the path below.
Thranduil did not open his eyes while either friend departed, but he cracked one eye open to see why Celedir had not.
Celedir still sat examining the twig with an unhealthy single-mindedness that commonly meant trouble. Thranduil raised a brow.
“And you? Will you not also be gone from my unhappy presence?”
“Nay I will not.”
“Will you then offer me some alternative way of dealing with the situation?”
Celedir promptly opened his mouth to speak but was quickly cut off.
“—Omitting the suggestion that I find another maiden?”
Celedir shut his mouth and sat again in ponderous silence. Suddenly his eyes lit up, and he accidentally snapped the twig off the tree in his sudden enlightenment. He winced and begged the tree’s forgiveness before sitting up to face Thranduil. Looking at his friend, Celedir quickly decided that some drastic action needed to take place to quell his friends failing spirits.
"We must find a way to precipitate yours and Faeleth betrothal...again"
"I would be happy to hear any of the marvelous ideas you only don’t have." he muttered.
"Nay friend, I do have an idea, though you might not consent."
"I shall never be able to reject it if first I do not hear it."
Celedir chuckled, being in a far lighter mood than his friend was in just now.
"Well here you have it: jealousy."
Thranduil raised an eyebrow.
"What about it?"
"Well, there's no better way to get a female to make a hurried decision than by attuning to her naturally jealous instincts.”
Thranduil stared at him a moment then abruptly rose to feet. His friend had turned to madness—perhaps he'd had too much wine. Surely he did not expect Thranduil to pursue any other maiden when he clearly had his heart set on Faeleth? Thranduil turned to leave, reluctant to entertain such folly.
"Thranduil wait—just think of it! If we could get her to entertain the notion that you had given up on her and seeking another maiden—"
"—It does not have to be very convincing, just a hint. We could choose a maiden who was in on the idea! That way, you would not hurt any poor elleth's feelings and you would not have to do much by making it seem real—
"And who do you have in mind for the job?" Thranduil said, whirling around to face Celedir.
Celedir paused and searched the stars overhead for an answer to quell his rapidly retreating friend.
Thranduil's steely eyes bore into Celedir’s pale grey ones as he tried to decide whether or not his friend was truly serious about the whole idea. Tuluwen? Surely he did not expect Faeleth's sister and the village busy-body to consent to such idea!
"Tuluwen?" he repeated, with stoic monotony.
"Well yes, she'd probably end up finding out about it anyway, so it would be best to have her on our side—
"You're mad. It seems that the long night watches in the home-guard have truly addled your brains."
"Just think about it, will you? I could arrange everything for it, Tuluwen is rather fond of me and I’m certain I could get her to comply." Celedir hastened to make his proposition more enticing. "It need only be for a
few weeks at best."
Thranduil paused at the edge of the ring of trees and sighed.
"I will think on it and give you my reply in the morning."
A very diplomatic answer, as was fit for princes and it was the very least he could do he supposed. But over the next seven or so years, Celedir’s idea was lost to Thranduil as trivial things often are with the royalty. And so the matter was forgotten for a little while—nearly a decade before Thranduil grew so miserable that he was desperate to try anything to get Faeleth back.
So there it is, a bit long and giving probably only a little insight into the story itself but...Any takers?