A/N: Well my lovely, magnificent and talented readers (at pushing that
little button labeled "review", and typing in the reviews) this will also
be from the point of view of the Fellowship . . . MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Just
in case you haven't remembered my views on evil laughter, evil laughter is
FUN!!!
I'm terribly sorry, but this chapter should also be parodying slash
(the M-S's bane).
Ps. Can anyone give me the (web) address of some accurate Quenya and Sindar dictionaries?
Disclaimer: Three guesses. If you've guessed Tolkien, congratulations! You are in the right category and have won the right to read further.
P.P.S. This is a book-verse and not movie-verse parody. Primarily because my idiotic, mostly new, V.C.R. that is one month past the end of its warranty is on the fritz.
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Anna: Like, so, totally, cool! I get to go to the world Legolas lives in! Maybe I'll say I'm, like, Elrond's long-lost second daughter and Riv- whatever that place is, like, called so needs an alliance, like with Mirkwood . . . [Kindly excuse me whilst I regurgitate . . . Ooooooh, education will be fun!]
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The various members of the Council looked at their scripts in preparation for the next female to come. Not knowing precisely when she would arrive, Elrond had given them scripts for the entire council. Having gone through so many variations on the council even the memories of the Eldar did not remember precisely what should occur. Due to that fact, Elrond had gone over as many variations upon the council he remembered with Glorfindel, and had compiled the average statements into one script. It had many strange words, and improbable music, but it was hoped that the next female would not even depart from Rivendell . . .
Elrond knew his daughter was prepared. The Fellowship was ready. The Council he had assembled was waiting. Then why, he wondered, did he feel so nervous? Eru, give me strength to face this next female!
Elrond went in and strode over to sit next to Glorfindel and Erestor. Legolas sighed, Aragorn, sitting next to him, shot the Mirkwood Elf a look of . . . no, the look wasn't exactly concern. Elrond did not know what it was; he merely had an uneasy feeling about it. It did not help that the Silvan Elf was gazing dreamily at Gimli son of Gloin, seeming to jerk his head to the side as though to bring his thoughts back to Middle- Earth. Surely the Elf and Dwarf were not . . . surely not. Elrond reluctantly conceded that it might be biologically possible, but . . .Elrond jerked his head a touch to bring himself back to Middle-Earth.
Gandalf, Bilbo and Frodo entered. The Lord of Imlad- Imlad-, he paid it no mind, -he could now remember little of his past, why should this one title mean so much to him? - the King of Rivendell stood up and led Frodo to the seat next to him. Of late, he found himself dwelling more and more on the hobbit's enormous blue eyes. Ridiculous, he told himself. Nothing could come of an Elf several centuries old and a . . . Elrond jerked his head again to bring his mind to a halt.
Gandalf saw the man of Gondor and stopped. One of his eyebrows went up in a silent query. Elrond saw the eyebrow and answered, all the while keeping faithfully to the script he had devised.
"This guy is Boromir. He's from the South. He came much to early in the morning and is asking for advice. He's supposed to be here so I won't have to repeat myself by explaining things twice."
Gandalf's other eyebrow went up, the two seeming to almost touch at his hairline. The Council began debating, always keeping faithfully to the script so carefully forged by Elrond Half-Elven. Yet it was not until Boromir started to speak that Elrond noticed the tell-tale shimmer that told of another female.
" . . . At this evil time I came running an errand over 110 days to Master Elrond. I don't look for help in battle because it's said that your strength is not in war." Several of the Elves of the Council started to bristle at this hopefully unintentional insult. Boromir than continued and the Elves relaxed. "But in intelligence. I came to ask you for help for interpreting a dream. My brother dreamed it twice, and I once." The shimmer was more noticeable now. "In my dream the sky to the East got dark and thundered but the sky to the West stayed light. From the sky in the West I heard this voice saying."
As Boromir started to declaim, two (two?! Elrond stared in dismay) girls tumbled through the portal. They looked somewhat similar. One of the two had on a rather simple brown dress. The other one had on a monstrosity of a gown so stiff with gold embroidery that you could hardly see the olive fabric underneath. She appeared delighted with her dress. The other one looked around, taking everything in, then her eyes widened in shock as Boromir continued to declaim.
"Seek for the Quest that was broken: Within Elrond's house it dwells: There shall be counsels taken Stronger than fangirl-spells. There shall be shown a token That The End is near at hand, For the M-S's bane shall waken, And the Author forth shall stand."
The shorter of the girls (the one in the brown dress) stared for a moment, then pushed some strange device of glass perched on her nose farther up, then started to speak. She had a fairly odd accent, yet spoke Westron well enough. "Boromir?" The man nodded; they had long ago given up on understanding just how these females had known their names. "You've recited that poem all wrong! Now, repeat after me." Boromir nodded, mentally counting off the time until he could do her in. "Seek for the sword that was broken." Boromir repeated each word numbly after her. The girl continued to recite. "In Imladris it dwells: there shall be counsels taken stronger than Morgul-spells. There shall be shown a token that Doom is near at hand, for Isildur's bane shall waken, and the halfling forth shall stand." Boromir repeated the lines after her. Suddenly, there was a shifting, and something of rightness in the plot began to make itself once more known in Imladris.
Imladris! Elrond thought he could almost laugh from sheer relief. He was the "Lord of Imladris!" He remembered his past. He remembered Celebrian. He remembered his thoughts concerning the Ringbearer and blushed from shame. Perhaps the shorter girl would not be so bad after all. . .
The taller girl tried to sway towards Legolas, tripped, snagged her gold embroidery on a rock and not noticing walked forwards. A raven, seeing the shiny thread, picked it up and began flying West with it. During the speech the taller girl apparently made to Legolas, only three words could be recognized from the foreign language the girl seemed to be speaking. The words were Legolas, Middle-Earth, and Elrond.
The shorter girl seemed to be counting silently to herself. . . . Until she noticed what the taller girl had done to her dress. In other words, the monstrosity of a gown had unraveled. Then the girl smiled and muttered, "Thank you, Eru."
Maybe one of the females might finally prove worth something.
Legolas, who had been recently declaimed to in a language he didn't know by a girl in a monstrous gown, was trying not to reach for his dagger. Aragorn was suspicious. Gimli appeared unaffected. Most of the Fellowship was rather jealous of the fact that Gimli had been largely ignored. Gimli, Gandalf, Boromir of Gondor, and Samwise Gamgee had formed a "happily ignored" club, and spent most evenings peaceably smoking pipeweed while the rest of the Fellowship was out dodging females. The only reason the four had not helped their friends was because the strange females tended to put them within a strange black mist where they could not hear, see, or find the rest of the Fellowship. They had given up trying, and therefore kept themselves occupied whenever they found themselves in that strange limbo. However, all but Gimli had occasionally found themselves chased. While Boromir was somewhat grateful for the service performed him by the shorter girl, something about her made him nervous . . .Pippin and Merry were not there. Sam, sitting on the floor, made a promise to himself that he would be able to protect his Mister Frodo this time. Frodo fingered his ring and speculatively eyed the exits. . .
Then something miraculous happened. Each member of the Council suddenly remembered how the Council of Elrond was supposed to play out and realized that now they had no need of the script. The girl in the olive dress began to interrupt - speaking Westron this time - until the girl in brown quieted her by sitting on her. The Council happily concluded with Sam, blushing and muttering.
"A nice pickle we have landed ourselves in, Mister Frodo!" he said, shaking his head.
Meanwhile, in a black mist far, far, away, an androgynous figure was starting to smile . . .
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Anna: What? I don't understand. Middle-Earth is, like, written in English. I, like, spoke to Leggy-weggy in English. Why didn't he, like, answer? Oh no! My dress!
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Sunsong: First of all, that depends on what you would term English, second, the common tongue of Middle-Earth is Westron. Third, were I Legolas, I would do my best to completely ignore you! Now, has anyone got any ideas for the next chappie or so? I'd love to hear them.
Ps. Can anyone give me the (web) address of some accurate Quenya and Sindar dictionaries?
Disclaimer: Three guesses. If you've guessed Tolkien, congratulations! You are in the right category and have won the right to read further.
P.P.S. This is a book-verse and not movie-verse parody. Primarily because my idiotic, mostly new, V.C.R. that is one month past the end of its warranty is on the fritz.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Anna: Like, so, totally, cool! I get to go to the world Legolas lives in! Maybe I'll say I'm, like, Elrond's long-lost second daughter and Riv- whatever that place is, like, called so needs an alliance, like with Mirkwood . . . [Kindly excuse me whilst I regurgitate . . . Ooooooh, education will be fun!]
******************************************
The various members of the Council looked at their scripts in preparation for the next female to come. Not knowing precisely when she would arrive, Elrond had given them scripts for the entire council. Having gone through so many variations on the council even the memories of the Eldar did not remember precisely what should occur. Due to that fact, Elrond had gone over as many variations upon the council he remembered with Glorfindel, and had compiled the average statements into one script. It had many strange words, and improbable music, but it was hoped that the next female would not even depart from Rivendell . . .
Elrond knew his daughter was prepared. The Fellowship was ready. The Council he had assembled was waiting. Then why, he wondered, did he feel so nervous? Eru, give me strength to face this next female!
Elrond went in and strode over to sit next to Glorfindel and Erestor. Legolas sighed, Aragorn, sitting next to him, shot the Mirkwood Elf a look of . . . no, the look wasn't exactly concern. Elrond did not know what it was; he merely had an uneasy feeling about it. It did not help that the Silvan Elf was gazing dreamily at Gimli son of Gloin, seeming to jerk his head to the side as though to bring his thoughts back to Middle- Earth. Surely the Elf and Dwarf were not . . . surely not. Elrond reluctantly conceded that it might be biologically possible, but . . .Elrond jerked his head a touch to bring himself back to Middle-Earth.
Gandalf, Bilbo and Frodo entered. The Lord of Imlad- Imlad-, he paid it no mind, -he could now remember little of his past, why should this one title mean so much to him? - the King of Rivendell stood up and led Frodo to the seat next to him. Of late, he found himself dwelling more and more on the hobbit's enormous blue eyes. Ridiculous, he told himself. Nothing could come of an Elf several centuries old and a . . . Elrond jerked his head again to bring his mind to a halt.
Gandalf saw the man of Gondor and stopped. One of his eyebrows went up in a silent query. Elrond saw the eyebrow and answered, all the while keeping faithfully to the script he had devised.
"This guy is Boromir. He's from the South. He came much to early in the morning and is asking for advice. He's supposed to be here so I won't have to repeat myself by explaining things twice."
Gandalf's other eyebrow went up, the two seeming to almost touch at his hairline. The Council began debating, always keeping faithfully to the script so carefully forged by Elrond Half-Elven. Yet it was not until Boromir started to speak that Elrond noticed the tell-tale shimmer that told of another female.
" . . . At this evil time I came running an errand over 110 days to Master Elrond. I don't look for help in battle because it's said that your strength is not in war." Several of the Elves of the Council started to bristle at this hopefully unintentional insult. Boromir than continued and the Elves relaxed. "But in intelligence. I came to ask you for help for interpreting a dream. My brother dreamed it twice, and I once." The shimmer was more noticeable now. "In my dream the sky to the East got dark and thundered but the sky to the West stayed light. From the sky in the West I heard this voice saying."
As Boromir started to declaim, two (two?! Elrond stared in dismay) girls tumbled through the portal. They looked somewhat similar. One of the two had on a rather simple brown dress. The other one had on a monstrosity of a gown so stiff with gold embroidery that you could hardly see the olive fabric underneath. She appeared delighted with her dress. The other one looked around, taking everything in, then her eyes widened in shock as Boromir continued to declaim.
"Seek for the Quest that was broken: Within Elrond's house it dwells: There shall be counsels taken Stronger than fangirl-spells. There shall be shown a token That The End is near at hand, For the M-S's bane shall waken, And the Author forth shall stand."
The shorter of the girls (the one in the brown dress) stared for a moment, then pushed some strange device of glass perched on her nose farther up, then started to speak. She had a fairly odd accent, yet spoke Westron well enough. "Boromir?" The man nodded; they had long ago given up on understanding just how these females had known their names. "You've recited that poem all wrong! Now, repeat after me." Boromir nodded, mentally counting off the time until he could do her in. "Seek for the sword that was broken." Boromir repeated each word numbly after her. The girl continued to recite. "In Imladris it dwells: there shall be counsels taken stronger than Morgul-spells. There shall be shown a token that Doom is near at hand, for Isildur's bane shall waken, and the halfling forth shall stand." Boromir repeated the lines after her. Suddenly, there was a shifting, and something of rightness in the plot began to make itself once more known in Imladris.
Imladris! Elrond thought he could almost laugh from sheer relief. He was the "Lord of Imladris!" He remembered his past. He remembered Celebrian. He remembered his thoughts concerning the Ringbearer and blushed from shame. Perhaps the shorter girl would not be so bad after all. . .
The taller girl tried to sway towards Legolas, tripped, snagged her gold embroidery on a rock and not noticing walked forwards. A raven, seeing the shiny thread, picked it up and began flying West with it. During the speech the taller girl apparently made to Legolas, only three words could be recognized from the foreign language the girl seemed to be speaking. The words were Legolas, Middle-Earth, and Elrond.
The shorter girl seemed to be counting silently to herself. . . . Until she noticed what the taller girl had done to her dress. In other words, the monstrosity of a gown had unraveled. Then the girl smiled and muttered, "Thank you, Eru."
Maybe one of the females might finally prove worth something.
Legolas, who had been recently declaimed to in a language he didn't know by a girl in a monstrous gown, was trying not to reach for his dagger. Aragorn was suspicious. Gimli appeared unaffected. Most of the Fellowship was rather jealous of the fact that Gimli had been largely ignored. Gimli, Gandalf, Boromir of Gondor, and Samwise Gamgee had formed a "happily ignored" club, and spent most evenings peaceably smoking pipeweed while the rest of the Fellowship was out dodging females. The only reason the four had not helped their friends was because the strange females tended to put them within a strange black mist where they could not hear, see, or find the rest of the Fellowship. They had given up trying, and therefore kept themselves occupied whenever they found themselves in that strange limbo. However, all but Gimli had occasionally found themselves chased. While Boromir was somewhat grateful for the service performed him by the shorter girl, something about her made him nervous . . .Pippin and Merry were not there. Sam, sitting on the floor, made a promise to himself that he would be able to protect his Mister Frodo this time. Frodo fingered his ring and speculatively eyed the exits. . .
Then something miraculous happened. Each member of the Council suddenly remembered how the Council of Elrond was supposed to play out and realized that now they had no need of the script. The girl in the olive dress began to interrupt - speaking Westron this time - until the girl in brown quieted her by sitting on her. The Council happily concluded with Sam, blushing and muttering.
"A nice pickle we have landed ourselves in, Mister Frodo!" he said, shaking his head.
Meanwhile, in a black mist far, far, away, an androgynous figure was starting to smile . . .
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Anna: What? I don't understand. Middle-Earth is, like, written in English. I, like, spoke to Leggy-weggy in English. Why didn't he, like, answer? Oh no! My dress!
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Sunsong: First of all, that depends on what you would term English, second, the common tongue of Middle-Earth is Westron. Third, were I Legolas, I would do my best to completely ignore you! Now, has anyone got any ideas for the next chappie or so? I'd love to hear them.