Chapter Six: Unattended Sues Will Be Wished Away to the Bog of Eternal Stench
When I worried about what Loonzie might have gotten up to left by herself with a bunch of sexy male elves, I thought, staring at the scene before me, I didn't worry nearly enough. Not by a long shot.
"Well, if you insist, my Lord. I would be honored to sing for one as noble as you!"
In the name of Tom Marvolo Riddle-I doubt nobility had anything to do with it.
"Wait!"
I didn't make it in time. Loonzie opened her mouth and started to sing a haunting, beautiful melody, easily enrapturing all of us in her spell. Or something like that.
I still hear your voice
When you sleep next to me…
I still feel your touch
In my dreams…
Forgive me my weakness
But I, don't kno-ow why…
Without you, it's hard
To suuurviiiiiiiiiiiiiiive…!
NO. I absolutely forbid there being any ridiculously long passages of lyrics in my narration. You can hurl me into Middle Earth with a bloody Sue. Fine. You can force flashbacks into the story. Fine. But I draw the line at lyrics written in their own passage like that! It's a waste of page, damn it, and it should be confined to song-fics!
'Cause every time we touch
I get this feeling!
And every time we kiss
I swear I can fly!
Can't you hear my heart beat fast?
I want this to laaaast!
Need you by my side…
Hn. I will accept that concession. For now…
When Loonzie was finished, the assembled elves smiled and congratulated her on her performance. Admittedly, they looked a bit perplexed.
"What ellon left you, Lady Luna, so cruelly as to prompt you to write such a song?"
Glorfindel, who had apparently sat down next to me at some point in the performance, blinked and looked as if he had been drawn out of some reverie when I (rather snidely) commented, "What ellon wouldn't?"
"Lady Ilmarë?"
I raised an eyebrow.
"Yes?"
He looked at me for a moment and shook his head. Well, I suppose that being sung to by Loonzie would have that sort of horrifyingly numbing effect on a man. I mean, she was making eyes at him the entire time she sang. It was actually kind of disturbing. But that's only because sometimes I felt it looked like she was singing to me. I was distracted from my apparent companion by this thought for a few minutes. And then turned back to him. He was fast becoming pale, and I was beginning to feel a bit of concern for his health.
"Yo. Glorfin-dude."
Oops.
"I mean, Lord Glorfindel, are you well?"
Obviously not, but that sounded setting-appropriate, didn't it? He glanced at me rather abruptly and nodded.
"Yes. I am well."
I fought the urge to snort.
"You look as if you're hung-over as hell. Actually…"
If the theory I had been toying with in my mind was correct, I was the kryptonite to Loonzie's Sue-powers. I figured that Tiriel and Thandraug were immune, but I had yet to see any evidence of them trolling Lady Luna as viciously as I seemed to be doing. To test this, I started humming under my breath, eventually adding mumbled words to my "spell."
"Happy birthday hmm hmmm, hmm hmm birth-hmmm, hmm hmmmm. Hmm hmm hmmm hmmm hm hm hm, happy hmm hmm, to-"
It frightened me, it did, the look of intensity on his face as he listened to me, and the way he seemingly relaxed and regained some of his colour. So I stopped humming, abruptly, and withdrew from him a little.
It worked.
"And you, Lady Ilmarë? Will you not also sing us a song of your land?"
The almost hysterical giggles that were threatening to escape me died in my throat as a dark-haired elf politely (and perhaps a little pleadingly, it seemed, as Loonzie threatened, oozing with probably false modesty, another song) turned to me in question. I blanched.
"Er, I'd rather get fu-I mean, nay, milord. While I might be so bold as to say that my voice is a decent length from terrible, it is only by virtue of my ability to sing in tune and is otherwise equally far from pleading, mediocre at best. I have very little talent for it, and any song I might sing I should think would be unfitting for the ears of the noble company present."
It came out better than what I intended to say, which would have rather too boldly proclaimed my preference to doing something obscene in a frozen river, so I thought I had done well. But the ellon persisted, resolutely not glancing back at Luna.
"Come now, my lady. You are among friends who are thirsty for the knowing of your culture. Surely you would not think to deny us this small pleasure on account of modesty?"
I resisted the urge to bash my head into the table. Why is it that when you don't want to sing, everyone around you insists that you do? Like I've said before, singing is supposed to be spontaneous! Or, perhaps, rehearsed. This was neither! I looked around and saw Loonzie glaring daggers at me, large, wicked, poisoned orcish daggers. Oh…why not?
"Very well then. But I will ask you to remember when I'm finished that I did warn you."
I sang from where I stood, screwing my eyes up to the ceiling so that I wouldn't blush. I am not the sort of person who blushes often, and I have no intention of changing that.
It was really hard to pick a song. I contemplated more Cascada for a moment, but discarded the idea and started mentally wracking my brains for folk songs that I knew. I came up with "Molly Malone," "Tam Lin," "The Old Man From Over the Sea" (which wasn't happening because it was probably the equivalent of gangster rap in this time frame) and a Chinese song I learned in elementary school. The first two were promising, and the third perhaps if I was hanging out with a bunch of ellon who were drunk (because I had a feeling that would be the only way anyone would appreciate it, even though it had a rather sad melody) but really, the entire list was a bust.
Joy.
When the idea finally came to me, though, I started to sing. Softly. And let me tell you, a hell of a lot had to happen to "Think of Me" from the Phantom of the Opera to make it suitable for my current situation. Actually, I really just made it a little slower and sadder, but that's a lot when you're doing it on the spot like that.
It was funny, but at one point Elrohir walked in, met my eye and smiled, and suddenly it seemed so much easier and my voice gained strength. And volume, but I suppose those go hand in hand. Elvish witchcraft, I figured.
Now, if you've heard the song, the last part is ridiculously complicated and the last note insane. The last note was beyond me and the last part is nothing without it, so I sang to a high, fading stop and left it there.
Silence reigned.
"Er, well, I did tell you that-"
To my surprise, it was Glorfindel (who was supposedly so lordly and gentlemanly and whatnot) who interrupted me.
"I may have not the ear of Lindir for such things, Lady Ilmarë, but it seems to me you think too little of a talent Eru has certainly blessed you with. Have you not considered learning from a master? Your song was pleasing, and with lessons I believe you have much potential."
He was suddenly smacked over the head, yes, smacked over the head by an ellon I had never seen before, one with laughter dancing in his eyes and a mock-serious furrow to his brow.
"Do not take my name in vain, Lord Glorfindel. And to say she has only much potential! T'is true you have no ear for such things. Lady Ilmarë has great potential, perhaps not a strong voice, but a very gentle and very pleasing one. You would profit greatly from lessons, should you be amenable to the idea of taking them. I would be very pleased to take you as my student, if you so desired. If not, at least consider teaching me a few of the great lays of your world. I am very interested to learn of them."
Well…shucks. (I was actually thinking another word that rhymed with that, but my recent use of profanity has been obscene-no pun intended). My face was scarlet.
"I…I would be honored to learn from you, milord, though I stand by what I said about having very little talent for it. And I would be most pleased to share songs from my world with you."
He grinned.
"My, you do know how to make an ellon blush, Lady Ilmarë."
I laughed despite myself.
"I might advise you, my lord, to save that statement until you have heard even one of the more mild of my land's songs."
He raised an eyebrow in curiosity, mirth dancing about in his eyes.
"I have a feeling that these songs of yours do not make one blush from flattery, Lady Ilmarë, and I must say, I am doubly, nay, triply intrigued by them now as I was ere you said that."
It was in that moment that I fell in love. I mean, come on! It's Lindir. He's funny, the elvish equivalent of a rock star, and had just expressed interest in learning (presumably) more lewd songs. Great interest, you might say, if you'd have seen his face.
It was sudden, and I started choking in my seat, but right as I gazed upon his fair elvish face, the song "The Bad Touch" by the Bloodhound Gang came right into my head.
"Lady Ilmarë, what ails you?"
I didn't know how to say that what ailed me was a certain "Texas drought" so I shrugged it off and coughed rather noisily into my sleeve.
"Perhaps one day I shall explain the manner of my ailment to you. For now, we can refer to it as 'The Bad Touch.'"
He raised an eyebrow rather cheekily at that but (thankfully) left it there.
And so it was that I started taking singing lessons with Lindir. Actually, I had the honor of taking lessons with Erestor as well, something which was like a dream of mine.
"Erestor, will you tell me Quenta Silmarillon today?"
He was taken aback.
"I can, my lady, but I am surprised. What prompted you thus?"
I thought for a moment.
"Well…I've read the book and…you have such a nice voice and I want to hear all about the Two Trees of Valinor and the Silmarils! And Túrin and Beren and Lúthien! And Feänor most of all!"
My enthusiasm gave him pause.
"How is it that you know of these tales?" He asked, seemingly intrigued.
"I've read a book that holds very brief accounts of all that went on. It's one of my favorites. So please, pretty please, will you tell me about Feänor?"
An eyebrow was raised as an amused, if studious smile stole across his face.
"Is Feänor the legend of old that captures most your mind, Lady Ilmarë?"
I didn't flinch at his teasing tone or swoon as an elleth might have and grinned.
"Let there be no doubt of that, dear Lord Erestor. T'is Feänor indeed that I love best."
"An interesting choice, Lady Ilmarë. Most elleth favor Gil-Galad Ereinion, of whom there was no like, and yet you choose curséd Feänor, whom most pity for his arrogance."
I was taken by surprise by Glorfindel's rather sudden appearance. Erestor wasn't, but then, he was facing me, and thus the door behind me. Why are elves so damn sneaky? I mean, seriously, they all have a Sneak skill above 90. For sure. But no way was I going to let him get by with questioning my choice of fan girl affection.
"And if I said it was his arrogance that draws me to him? Power draws me. Not strength or wealth or influence, but rather a power in one's being, the sort of aura that radiates from every pore and overwhelms. Of mighty Feänor none can say that he did not have that power. Even his name tells of the fire that burned within him."
I thought for a moment.
"And his son, Maedhros too I love. What was it that was said of him? Ah, yes. 'For since his torment upon Thangorodrim his spirit burned like a white fire within, and he was as one that returns from the dead.' Yes. For Feänor and his son, I have great love."
Glorfindel stood for a moment, regarding me carefully.
"A discerning mind, Lady Ilmarë, have you been blessed with. Perhaps, with Erestor's blessing, I might intrude upon you both for a little longer?"
My teacher nodded, looking rather exasperated.
"Very well. But you're to behave yourself, do you hear me? No running about like an elfling, interrupting my lessons. Lady Ilmarë is a most diligent student, and I should hate for a brute such as yourself to affect her studies negatively with your impatience."
Glorfindel grinned.
"I wouldn't dream of such a thing. But a brute, Erestor? How unkind. Preferring to enjoy the glories of nature rather than sit about with dusty tomes all day hardly makes one a brute."
I sniggered, looking back and forth at Glorfindel's cherubic (yeah, right) grin and the twitch at the corner of Erestor's mouth.
"I shall say no more. Now, on the matter of Quenta Silmarillon, I had not thought to begin it so soon into our curriculum, but-"
I put on my best puppy-dog face and looked ponderously at Glorfindel.
"With Lord Glorfindel's permission, Lord Erestor, could we perhaps discuss not the story of the Silmarils proper, but perhaps…"
I must have looked either ridiculous or absolutely adorable because both men were looking distinctively…uncomfortable, maybe, and were toying with their tunics and clearing their throats and eventually plain averting their eyes.
I probably looked ridiculous, but if it worked, it was worth it.
"Perhaps Lord Glorfindel would be amenable to the idea of…enriching your accounts with his own knowledge of certain events? That is, if it does not cause him more grief than necessary. It is a bold request, I know, and one I am hardly justified in the making of, but would that…"
I blinked, seeing Lord Glorfindel stand up. I mean, Glorfindel. Gah, my speaking habits are rubbing off into my thoughts. But my shoulders slumped a little, because I figured I was being outright and totally rejected. Damn. I didn't mean to offend him. Um-
"It would be my pleasure, Lady Ilmarë, to recount to you what tales of valor I witnessed, and any other knowledge which you might desire of me, if Lord Erestor is equally amenable."
Erestor didn't look surprised in the least but looked rather pleased and nodded.
"I would indeed be amenable. Where, then, shall we begin…?"
"The Fifth Battle!" I blurted out, clapping my hands over my mouth immediately in, well, embarrassment. I mean, seriously. Both ellon looked to me in surprise and I colored.
"If you please, my lords. I…I merely thought of how little truly is said of it and the valor of Húrin and his brother, barring their last words to Turgon, and as Glorfindel was one of Turgon's captains, I thought perhaps…"
Seeing the look on their faces, I suddenly remembered my self.
"I mean, Lord Huor, Lord Húrin, Lord Turgon, and Lord Glorfindel. I apologize."
Glorfindel shook his head as if in wonder and then the two began to teach me the lore of their world. Erestor explained things in a very textbook-like manner, the same manner in which I learned from him during normal lessons, and much stuck in my mind, and Glorfindel described it as if he was there, so much so that I could see it myself in my mind's eye, the bright mail of the hosts of Gondolin, the singing of swords, the trampling of the orcs on the ground…it was amazing. A legend come to life.
"Lord Erestor-Oh. Lord Glorfindel. Lady Ilmarë. Forgive me, Lord Erestor. Your lessons are usually in the morning. Lord Elrond had sent me to bid Lord Erestor come to supper."
Erestor looked a little sheepishly at us even as Glorfindel cracked a grin, my dear teacher reddened and said, quite obtusely, "You may tell Lord Elrond that I am perfectly capable of seeing myself to dinner, thank you. I'll be right along."
The elleth looked a little embarrassed and nodded.
"Yes, my lord. Excuse me."
She left and Glorfindel looked slyly at Erestor, and I could sense this was fuel for a previously established teasing campaign.
"So Lord Elrond feels the need to remind you to come to supper? My friend, can it be you've missed it before, in favor of your dearly beloved books? Surely, the Chief Counselor of Imladris does not need his lord to mind him like a child who neglects his well-being in favor of his dearest amusement? That would be a terrible shame!"
"Yes, yes," Erestor commented dryly, shutting the book he was holding and filing it away with the others he had out on the desk from our lesson. "Laugh while you can, my friend. I shall remember it when Lord Elrond has to send someone to find you when you've fallen asleep in some tree with an apple in your hand and neglect attending your duties."
Glorfindel narrowed his eyes at him to say something, but was stopped when I started laughing. Like, cracking up laughing. Erestor took advantage of my interruption and quite gallantly (it surprised me, considering his rather terse nature) offered me his arm.
"May I have the pleasure of escorting you this evening, Lady Ilmarë?"
I graciously accepted and gave him my hand.
"You may."
And we ignored Glorfindel mimicking us good-naturedly and went to dinner, laughing as the door swung shut behind us and almost hit the irritable, ridiculously tall ellon in the face. And we ignored the looks we got on entering the dining hall and had a wonderful time. And then, I felt as if some remnant of a shadow had passed from my face, at ease at last in the absence of Tiriel and Thandraug. But we'll get to that later.
Unattended Sues Will Be Wished Away to the Bog of Eternal Stench/End.