AUTHORS NOTE: Please check the Authors Note above Chapter Three to find instructions on translating the French dialogue. You'll find out soon enough why it wasn't in English. Also, eeek! Final introduction paragraph :D
Chapter 4: Applepip Season
I was at perfect peace. The tractor roared beneath me as I did the ploughing. This work kept me alive; my family alive. The scene was beautiful. Acres and acres of golden wheat shimmered and danced in unison under the mighty sun. The sky was a pure light blue which shielded the world with light. Wispy white clouds gently floated by like row-boats on a calm lake in summer. Along the horizon, the great and majestic Mount Doom towered over the land like a brave, loyal, watchful guardian. At the foot of the mountain, I could faintly make out the grand mansion which belonged to the aristocratic Scorpia family. Apparently, the heir to their glorious fortune, Sebastian, was extremely…debonair as they say in Gondor…
"Cum at me, bro; am I not hot too?" Shouted a familiar voice playfully to me as the owner of it bounded over the hills. It was Geddit. Good, old, very old, Geddit Bilbo.
Where did Geddit cum from, actually? He should be all the way back in The Shire, not in Mordor! A hobbit his age would never be able to manage the journey. That doesn't make any sense!
"None of this does! You're too young for your own good. Or my own good if you think about it!" He laughed, staring into the distance as if he was talking to someone not there.
"What are you doing here, Geddit?" I asked him.
"I missed you, Applepip! I missed your delicious golden apples! My Bag End just isn't the same anymore!" He frowned.
"I miss my hobbit-hole." I sighed. Yeah it was cramped because of my ten siblings. Grandmother and Father, but it was warm, cosy and home.
"I miss your hole too…" He sighed.
We stood silent for a few seconds. I breathed in the air of my farm. It didn't smell of The Shire…
Suddenly, the wheat rustled, a silver head was bobbing along. A tall, scrawny old man with a long silver beard and flowing purple-wurple robes spangled with shiny yellow stars popped up from the field, right between me and Geddit.
"Geddit!" the man cried happily.
No… It couldn't be… Gandalf?
"Don't be silly, Applepip! It's Dumbledore! He usually cums through the back – never a normal entrance, I say!" Chirped Geddit to me humorously, almost giggling at my brief stupidity and judgement.
My ears inexplicitly pricked up. The air became damp and still. Was it…Gun Powder?
A shot fired. It seemed to have come from the house. I could already sense that the gun had been reloaded.
I screamed for Geddit and Dumbledore to get to the ground before their heads were blown off. Hoping they had heard me, I quickly dived in amongst the wheat. He would kill me. He would kill me. He would kill me.
I heard another shot. Looking up, I saw Geddit and Dumbledore still standing in the field. Since Geddit was a hobbit, he was too short to be seen by my father – he barely made it past three feet tall. However, Dumbledore would have easily stood out due to his height. He was the target!
Dumbledore quickly turned to Geddit and clutched his chest. Two equally sized growths seemed to form near-instantly.
"You dirty bas-"I heard Geddit shout in shock. But before he could finish what he had to say, He, and Dumbledore, disappeared into thin air. Instead, the bullet hit the tractor.
I yelped in shock. What were we going to do? How were we going to make money? Were we going to starve? The wheat field is the only think which kept the family alive, what could we do?
In the midst of my questions, I felt my hand get hand get crushed by a powerful force.
"You dirty hybrid idiot!" Slurred my father is rage as the fuel leaked out of the tractor and onto the floor.
I wept apologies to him, but any hope of mercy would be futile when he was drunk. I begged him to spare me this time, spare my siblings: Appleheap, Ducky, Chickens, Carrots, Onions, Rhubarb, Cowbell, Lawn, Farm and Sheepshearer.
He grabbed me by my flaming hair and threw me to the tractor, forcing me to swallow the fuel.
I puked right as he let me go. I was swimming in burning agony; my eyes watered so much I was blinded by tears and my throat became deadly raw. I was dying. My world was turning black.
…
I woke up on the hard ground to the sound of heavy sobbing. The harsh smell of puke invaded my nostrils, causing me to gag.
On the floor in a heap, I saw my father crying heavily, slowly rocking back and forth. I tried to ask him if he was okay, but my throat was cut up so much I almost passed out again due to the pain.
"Just…go. Go sell the harvest at the celebration. It's the only way" He whispered, now sober.
I tried to reach out again, but he screamed at me to leave, so I complied before he truly did kill me.
I ran through the fields to our small wooden shack to get the product and crates.
I slammed the back door to the kitchen shut behind me, taking care to look at the time. 3 'O clock, good, I still had time.
My grandmother screamed when she saw me then heavily sighed.
"What happened?" She asked, grabbing the wash cloth from the worktop.
"Dad got drunk and shot the tractor after he saw Geddit Bilbo and this wizard called Dumbledore in the field" I replied
She started to wash my wounds. "So how did you end up like this then?" She inquired in a concerned voice.
I winched from the slight sting. "Dad slammed me against the tractor and made me drink the leaking fuel. I puked and passed out." Talking was agony.
"I've got a potion for your throat darling, you sound awful" She softly said to me, reaching into the cupboards.
She handed me a vial of a thick noir liquid. I quickly uncorked the top and forced it down my burning throat. Instantly, the pain subsided and my throat cleared. The flames in my stomach calmed and my vision became unnaturally clear for one second, and then dimmed down to my usual sight abilities.
I hugged my Grandmother and sobbed.
"I have to sell our harvest at the celebration tonight. If I don't sell enough, we won't be able to afford a new tractor"
"Why don't you sell my potions then? They will make you a few hundred Middlés a dozen."
I whispered a thank-you before heading upstairs to change clothes. I threw on a butter-cup yellow plaid dress which went down to my knees with small puffy sleeves with a green velvet waistcoat on top and brown flats. I plaited my curly red hair then laced wild flowers into it. My make-up was minimal: rose-pink lipstick, pink blusher and mascara. I evaluated myself in the mirror: I was tiny. I stood at only 4 and half feet tall (my hobbit ancestry" with sharp pointed ears (my elven side). My eyes were large; round green saucers and all of me features were soft. I had a small button nose and my lips were tiny and cute. I was skinny, but soft. Most people compared me to a teddy bear, must to my distaste.
When I came downstairs, I was all my younger siblings loading the wagons with product, lead and organised by my grandmother.
"You look beautiful, Applepip" Cowbell cooed in her five-year-old voice.
"You look adorable yourself" I laughed, picking her up then spinning her around.
"It's all loaded, dear" my Grandmother called.
"Well I'd best be off them" I said, taking the handle of the lead-wagon.
…
I set up my stand mid-way up the mountain. My set took up two tables, the farm stuff had a red and white checked cloth and the potions used a blue swirled one. Barrels of product scattered around my area as well.
There was a woman who set up a stand near me who had all exotic and mysterious animals. She called herself Fortuna and even let me have a peek at the unicorn she was unveiling that night, in exchange for a few sleeping potions of course.
Unfortunately, I couldn't see Fortuna's show because an Ent – yes, a real life Ent – crushed one of her cages when she thought she saw Legolas – which even I know would be impossible, considering he left Middle-Earth years ago.
Throughout the night, I made hundreds – no thousands – of Middlés! I also met incredibly interesting groups of people.
The first group I met was one with two girls: an Elven wizard with beautiful, flowing golden hair called Ocean and a half dwarf half woman girl with an amazing body called Abs.
The second group I met had a hot guy who was also an Elven wizard with amazing amber eyes like on the traffic lights called Dusk. In his group, there were also three girls: another half hobbit called Bella Goose, a hobbit dwarf called Hai Lowe who barely made it over the table and a full blooded human called Rachel. This group was kind of emo looking and had a band. I managed to get Dusk's number luckily.
The third group I met was THE Sebastian Scorpia and this creepy skinny monster silently following him. He had a sexy French accent (because they speak French in Gondor) and spoke English really well. But surprisingly, he wasn't as hot as Dusk. I was thinking about those gorgeous fiery eyes all night…
At midnight, I loud bell rang out, signalling the fireworks were about to start. The mountain shook vigorously from the thousands of footsteps running up the mountain slopes to see the mighty Gandalf. No one can believe that he actually returned to Middle-Earth. No one believed that it was even possible, but apparently magic and science combined can make wonderful and unexplainable things happen.
The red Southern lights starting twisting and turning in the sky, like a silken ribbon caught in the wind. The stars twinkled brighter than I had ever seen before. The first firework was set off: it was a golden dragon which circled the mountain, swooping down the crowd and breathing glittering orange 'fire' before exploding in a spectacular array of lights.
A bright silver beam suddenly shot up into the sky… that wasn't a firework, what was it?
Everything began to stretch in the most painful feeling imaginable. The creams of pure pain were overwhelming to point that I almost melted.
Suddenly, the world crunched back on itself. In the sky, lay a large, menacing silver crack, a gaping hole in our universe and time.