Of Grima WormtongueGroveling at Master’s feet,Of Grima Wormtongue by ElwynWanderer
A throne, he thinks, should be his seat.
Ah, and such a thought is sweet
To Grima Wormtongue.
Crooked words, till lightning falls
He shall whisper in the golden halls
Then leave again when Master calls
For Grima Wormtongue.
All Rohan knows his face is white
With eyes that squint in harsh sunlight -
Heavy lids which guard the sight
Of Grima Wormtongue.
A cunning snake does what he can
To weave a dark, deceitful plan
And yet that snake was once a man
Named Grima Wormtongue.
Armed with a betraying knife
He puts an end to all the strife
His master wrought, paid with the life
Of Grima Wormtongue.
The Before TimeThe first time he sees the limping man (clearly a psychosomatic problem; an army doctor, then), Lars is tracking down an organization leak. Just because their leader - Moriarty - is dead does not mean their contacts and meeting places and secret codes are anywhere close to falling apart - at least, not without interference from the Yard. Lars' job is to prevent that.The Before Time by ElwynWanderer
He is tailing DI Lestrade when he sees the limping man. Lestrade is meeting this man at a pub in London (old friend, met while on a murder case), and it is obvious to Lars that the Detective Inspector is the only thing keeping the limping man out that night instead of back at his flat, sitting and watching Telly.
No, Lars corrects himself, that's not it. The limping man jumped at the opportunity to go to the pub with Lestrade. It is not the company that he wants, but the ability to drink himself into oblivion.
Nothing of note will occur this evening, so Lars slips away, into the shadows and past the pub on
The Tactician Doesn't Get Sick LeaveThe morning of another battle dawned, and Mark the Tactician opened his eyes and discovered he felt absolutely awful. His nose was runny, his throat was sore, and – ohh – as soon as he sat up, his head began to swim crazily.The Tactician Doesn't Get Sick Leave by ElwynWanderer
Mark coughed and cursed his luck. Now was really not a good time to catch a cold.
But he was a tactician, and a tactician always has a plan! He quickly decided to find Serra or Priscilla.
Another day, another battle, Eliwood noted to himself in a princely manner as he led his horse through the mostly torn down camp. But something was different today. He paused, frowned in confusion, and looked back over his princely shoulder. Then he realized: the tactician’s tent was still up.
Not everyone had finished packing up, it was true, but the tactician’s tent was usually the first to disappear and Mark was usually the one overseeing the rest of the tear-down.
Eliwood walked over to Marcus, who was currently informing two knights where
The Demon King Speaks - 9The Cost of WishesThe Demon King Speaks - 9 by ElwynWanderer
Lyon’s breathing was calm as the dark stone resting in his cupped hands began to glow and pulse with energy over the still form of Emperor Vigarde. Searing heat swirled around the prince and his father’s corpse while the impossibly cold surface of the stone formed hoarfrost on Lyon’s shaky fingers. Vigarde’s eyelids were trembling, as though searching for the strength to open.
And someone was calling the prince’s name.
Lyon turned and met the person’s eyes. In a voice not entirely his own, he said, “Oh, hello, it’s you… What was your name again?” His mind was an emptiness – had been ever since he’d begun the ritual to return his father to life. Each thought to enter his mind was slow and took great effort, and if Lyon could piece together his feelings he would have thought it a wonder that he could speak at all.
Then his mouth opened, and he was speaking again. “Ah, yes, Knoll. You’r
FE Support Conversations CROSSOVER! LyndisxMAvatarA/N: Requested by EveBlaze14, Legacy, and basrutten, here is…M!Robin x Lyndis!
Robin: Hm? Is something the matter, milady?
Lyndis: Do you remember the first time we met?
Robin: Yes. We were in Sacae when a group of bandits attacked. Chrom and I had to protect you.
Lyndis: No, no. I mean, the FIRST time we met.
Robin: …I don’t remember such thing, milady.
Lyndis: …I see. You’re still recovering from your amnesia. Forgive me. I shouldn’t be pushing on such a memory.
Robin: It’s all right.
Lyndis: Well, I have to go. Talk to you later, Robin.
Robin: All right. *Lyndis leaves* …Did we meet before?
Lyndis: Ah, Robin. Is something the matter?
Robin: I wanted to talk to you about something. Did we meet before?
Lyndis: I…yes. We did meet before. But you wer
The Final Case: Part oneHe's a genius. A bloody brilliant man and easily the smartest in London – Hell, maybe even the world… yet he can't even see the most obvious thing in the world even if I shove it in his face and scream it at him… John thought sadly as he watched the amazing arrogant bastard as he lay on the couch, his hands pressed together and rested against his lips. His eyes scanned the ceiling lazily as he thought, his body so relaxed and his mind so sharp. He turned back to the pile of dishes that sat in front of him, picking up the rag next to the sink and drying the plate in his hand, running slow, small circles on the glassware. Will he ever see..?
"John," Sherlock's sharp voice cut into his thoughts, making John jump slightly and snap his attention to the detective at once. "Stop thinking, will you?"
"Wha'?" John asked, his face turning the lightest shade of pink.
"Stop thinking, it's too loud and annoying. I'm trying to figure something out which I can't do when you're thinking
The End of the World Isn't so BadIt was just a normal meeting for the nations. Arguing and bickering was insured. Nothing seemingly out of the ordinary as each one of their ideas was shot down. Little did they know that the call Russia and America would receive would change their fate for the worst.
Two different sets of ringtones blared. "Born in the U.S.A." and "I'm Very Glad Because I'm Finally Returning Back Home (Trololol)" played in the worst unison.
Austria cringed. "One of you dummkopfs answer your phones! Your ringtones are giving me a headache."
America gave a soft, "sorry dude," before greeting the caller. Russia nodded his head in apology and did the same. English and Russian filled up the room, both filled with an equal amount of shock and dread. When they hung up, the pair shared a nervous look.
"Well? What was so damn important that it had to interrupt the meeting?" England asked, annoyance seeping through each word.
Neither of them spoke for the longest time. Finally, Russia spoke up. "We