"You won't want to see Gandalf looking like that, though," Frodo said, as we made our way back from the practice grounds.
I glanced down and my clothes, which were grimy from the practice ground sand. I sighed and tried to brush the worst of it off, but Frodo was right. I was going to need a bath first.
"Why don't you ask Gandalf if I could have word, and I'll go freshen up in my room?" I said, pulling apart a tangle in my hair.
"I'll do that," Frodo said. "I'll wait for you outside your room."
I nodded and turned to wander back into my bedroom. In a basin at the far end I washed my face, neck, and arms, and tried (with moderate success) to get the knots out of my hair.
I thumbed through the closet and found a simple blue dress that looked like it would fit. I slipped into it, enjoying the feel of the soft, cool fabric against my skin. The top was close fitting, but the sleeves and the skirt were deliciously loose and billowing.
"That's more like it," I said, giving myself an appraising look in the mirror. "Dang, shoes!" I sat on the bed and pulled off my boots. Wiggling my toes, I hobbled back to the closet to find something suitable. A pair of white slippers did nicely, and I opened the door to my room.
Frodo smiled and bowed. "You look lovely, Meg. If it pleases you, Gandalf will see you know."
I grinned inwardly. God, I love this place.
"Thank you," I said, following him down several hallways. Frodo stopped at a large wooden door and knocked.
"Come in," called a voice from the other side. Frodo eased open the door and I had my first glimpse of Gandalf.
He was sitting at a desk in the corner, leafing through piles of old parchment in strange characters I couldn't even read. His robe was gray and it flowed along to the ground, like a dirty river.
Gandalf looked up at me suddenly, I and gulped. It was frightening to feel all that power eating into me. It felt like he was searching me.
"Welcome, Meg," he said softly, breaking whatever spell he had cast. I found I could look away again and I shuddered.
"That will be all, Frodo," Gandalf said, and the hobbit bowed and left. I was uneasy as I heard the door latch shut.
"Mr. um.. uh, sir," I began, stuttering.
"Gandalf," he said.
"Ga..Gandalf," I said, "I must be dreaming. This is Rivendell, right? Right. So I must be dreaming."
"No."
"No? Oh, come on. I must be dreaming."
"You are not."
I sighed and slumped a bit. "I was afraid you would say that. Somewhere, somehow, this all feels to REAL. I was hoping you could tell me why I'm here."
"I brought you here." Gandalf put down the papers. "I brought you here to bear the ring."
My hand flew to my neck. "I think you've got the wrong girl."
"I do not. I chose you, and only you."
"Why?" I asked, in disbelief.
"You a female, fifteen, and from a different world."
"What does that have to do with the price of eggs?"
Gandalf raised his eyebrows at my unusual question, but he got the idea. "Look at it this way. Sauron knows of men. He knows of elves, and dwarves, and hobbits. He even knows of wizards. But he does not know of," Gandalf gave me a small smile and his eyes twinkled. "Teenage girls."
I had to think about that. "You know, that makes sense, in a backwards kind of way."
Gandalf stood. "The way I see it, Sauron will be looking for the ring, but he will not be looking for YOU. Indeed, who would trust the ring to such a person?"
Gandalf walked around me, and I stiffened. "But I know better. You are stubborn, determined, and ferocious in a pinch. You danced as a child, am I right? You are agile, quick on your feet, and long-suffering."
Facing me again, Gandalf nodded. "You are the one."
"What... what about Frodo?" I asked.
"Should I have failed to bring you here, he would bear the ring."
"But what about my friends?"
"They will be your Company. All of them are as suited for this as you are."
I felt dizzy, suddenly. "You want me to take the ring to Mordor? And chuck it in? Past all the Orcs and that spider thing and..." I felt like throwing up.
Gandalf put a hand on my shoulder. "You do not have to. You have time yet before the council of Elrond, where its fate will be decided."
"Gandalf," I whimpered. "It hurts already."
He turned away. "It will only hurt worse."
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I fled the room.
"Meg? What's wrong?"
"Nothing, nothing," I wiped the tears away and turned to face Shannon. She was beaming and rocking back and forth on her toes. "What?" I asked, starting to smile, too. "What?"
"Didn't you hear?" Shannon asked. I shook my head. "There's a party tonight! A feast and music and DANCING!" She twirled around my room, singing, very un-Shannon like.
I laughed. Then Shannon turned to me and gasped. "What are we going to WEAR?" she asked. I giggled.
"This is the first time I've heard you worry about what you're wearing." I grinned maliciously. "I don't think they have 'Invader Zim' t-shirts here."
Shannon got that half-evil, half-amused look in her eye. With a yell she grabbed up a pillow from my bed and swung. I ducked, and grabbed a second.
"Don't mess with me!" I said, taking a swing.
"As if!" Shannon yelled, thunking me a good one.
I reeled. "But I am LORD OF THE PILLOWS!" Whack! I hit her upside those glue on ears.
Shannon giggled and hit me again, and her pillow exploded. We both stopped and spat out feathers, and then laughed till it hurt.
"But seriously," I said, when I was done gasping. "What are we wearing?" I walked over to the closet and began pulling out clothes. "I don't see anything but dresses."
"A dress? No way." Shannon followed me.
I shrugged. "Fine. Go in the nude."
"I'll take that one," Shannon said quickly, picking out an absolutely gorgeous dress. It was a soft blue, cut in an "empire" - a short top and then a long, flowing skirt. It shimmered in the light, and, as Shannon fought her way into it, it was a perfect fit.
I smiled. "Wow, you look really pretty."
"Thanks," Shannon twirled in the mirror. "But what are you gonna wear?"
I pawed through the clothes, finally deciding on a beautiful white dress. It had a very high neck, almost a turtleneck, which was good because it meant I could wear the ring without attracting attention to it. The top of the dress was loose and ribbed, but a waistband of silver that tied in the back made the skirt puff out and fall right around my ankles.
I grinned. "What do you think?"
Shannon smirked and gave me a double thumbs up.
The party that night was amazing. Long banquet tables filled with all kinds of delicious food glowed in the candlelight, and soft music was playing.
After a while people stopped eating and began to dance. My friends and I watched, interested.
"Excuse me," Legolas said, coming up to Shannon. "May I have this dance?"
Shannon stared, open mouthed, and her spoon fell with a clatter to her bowl. I waited for her to move, or at least say something, but she didn't. Reaching over I gave her a sharp jab with my fork.
"Ya-OW! Oh, ah, oh... yes." Her voice squeaked a bit, but she got up, brushed her skirt down, and took the arm that Legolas offered. As he led her away Shannon looked back at me, grinning and wiggling her eyebrows.
Somebody tapped my shoulder - Frodo. "Would it please you to dance?" he asked, bowing.
I stood, smiling. "Very much," I said, but I knew it would be awkward trying to dance with someone a foot and a half shorter than me.
Out on the dance floor, Frodo taught me the steps of their version of a waltz. One step to the right, one step to the left, three steps in a circle and one step back. It was hard to get the hang of, but I got it, eventually. I looked over to see how Shannon was doing, and burst out laughing.
She was teaching Legolas the Macarena.
"Hee-ey, Macrena," Shannon sang, swiveling her hips. She and Legolas jumped and clapped their hands. "Aye!"
Frodo smiled at me. "Is something wrong?"
I fought to get control of myself. "No - no, nothing."
The song ended, and Legolas stopped in the middle - with one hand out in front and one hand behind his head. He looked disappointed as he let his arms fall.
The next song struck up, and people began a new dance, forming a circle. "Here, Meg," Frodo said, "I bow, you curtsy. Then one step to your right, one to the left, two forward, one back, you spin under my arm," (I had to duck for that part) "One to the right, one to the left, two back this time, one forward, we bow again, and you go to the next person."
"I - what?" But it was two late, I found myself dancing with another guy.
"Galen Silverbirch," the elf said, as he bowed. "M-Meg Hunter," I replied, curtsying.
Galen smiled. "It's a social dance, you see, to meet new people. You keep going around in a circle until you come back to your first."
"I see," I said, concentrating on getting the steps right. One back.. one... oh, sugar. Despite my less than coordinated dancing Galen smiled as we parted.
"Finrod Garulf," said my next partner, bowing. "You are Meg, are you not?"
"I am," I said, as we began to dance. "Does everyone know that?"
"Perhaps. Its not often we get so unusual a guest here."
"Unusual?" I resisted the urge to put a protective hand around the ring. Finrod just smiled as he bowed away.
"Dan the Giraffe," the next guy bowed.
I grinned. "Meg the Egg," I said, in all nick-name-fairness. Dan put his hand on my waist and we started to dance. "It's so weird here, you know?" I said. "I keep feeling like it's a dream."
"I know! All these hot elf-babes..."
"Dan!"
"What?" he asked, pretending to be indignant. I giggled as I spun under his arm.
"But Dan, what was up with you today at the practice grounds?"
Dan didn't answer, and it was time to move on.
I had a succession of very cute elf partners, but then - "Aragorn, son of Arathorn."
"Meg Hunter," I fought to keep my voice from trembling. One serious scary guy, here.
As we danced he stared at my face. I met his eyes defiantly. "You don't think I can do it," I whispered, accusingly.
"What makes you say that?"
"You're looking at me weird."
"I doubt your physical strength, that is all," he twirled me around, as if to prove it.
I thought carefully for a response. "Then perhaps you would coach me. I am stronger than I look."
Aragorn nodded his approval, and bowed away.
"Legolas Greenleaf."
I giggled, in spite of myself. "I'm Meg, Shannon's friend." Legolas smiled.
"Shannon is... interesting. She has strange customs for an elf..." He looked down at me. "For example, this Mak-ker-ena. Is it a healing dance?"
I shrugged, shaking my head and smiling. "Sure."
Legolas looked over my shoulder to where Shannon was dancing and sighed. I rolled my eyes and waited for the next dancer.
When the night was over I said goodnight to all my friends and to Frodo and waltzed back to my room. Shannon came with me, pulling petals off a flower she had taken from the hallway.
"He loves me, he love me not," she was muttering. "He loves me, he..." Shannon stopped. There was one petal left. She was silent for a moment, then - "He loves me!" she repeated, throwing the last petal away, gleefully.
I shook my head. "Good night, Shannon." I went into my room, sighing, thinking that the night's surprises were over.
Boy, was I wrong.
I paused just inside the door - something was wrong. But before I could turn around I felt someone grab me from behind, and before I could scream, I felt a knife at my throat.
"Give me the ring," a low voice demanded.
I glanced down and my clothes, which were grimy from the practice ground sand. I sighed and tried to brush the worst of it off, but Frodo was right. I was going to need a bath first.
"Why don't you ask Gandalf if I could have word, and I'll go freshen up in my room?" I said, pulling apart a tangle in my hair.
"I'll do that," Frodo said. "I'll wait for you outside your room."
I nodded and turned to wander back into my bedroom. In a basin at the far end I washed my face, neck, and arms, and tried (with moderate success) to get the knots out of my hair.
I thumbed through the closet and found a simple blue dress that looked like it would fit. I slipped into it, enjoying the feel of the soft, cool fabric against my skin. The top was close fitting, but the sleeves and the skirt were deliciously loose and billowing.
"That's more like it," I said, giving myself an appraising look in the mirror. "Dang, shoes!" I sat on the bed and pulled off my boots. Wiggling my toes, I hobbled back to the closet to find something suitable. A pair of white slippers did nicely, and I opened the door to my room.
Frodo smiled and bowed. "You look lovely, Meg. If it pleases you, Gandalf will see you know."
I grinned inwardly. God, I love this place.
"Thank you," I said, following him down several hallways. Frodo stopped at a large wooden door and knocked.
"Come in," called a voice from the other side. Frodo eased open the door and I had my first glimpse of Gandalf.
He was sitting at a desk in the corner, leafing through piles of old parchment in strange characters I couldn't even read. His robe was gray and it flowed along to the ground, like a dirty river.
Gandalf looked up at me suddenly, I and gulped. It was frightening to feel all that power eating into me. It felt like he was searching me.
"Welcome, Meg," he said softly, breaking whatever spell he had cast. I found I could look away again and I shuddered.
"That will be all, Frodo," Gandalf said, and the hobbit bowed and left. I was uneasy as I heard the door latch shut.
"Mr. um.. uh, sir," I began, stuttering.
"Gandalf," he said.
"Ga..Gandalf," I said, "I must be dreaming. This is Rivendell, right? Right. So I must be dreaming."
"No."
"No? Oh, come on. I must be dreaming."
"You are not."
I sighed and slumped a bit. "I was afraid you would say that. Somewhere, somehow, this all feels to REAL. I was hoping you could tell me why I'm here."
"I brought you here." Gandalf put down the papers. "I brought you here to bear the ring."
My hand flew to my neck. "I think you've got the wrong girl."
"I do not. I chose you, and only you."
"Why?" I asked, in disbelief.
"You a female, fifteen, and from a different world."
"What does that have to do with the price of eggs?"
Gandalf raised his eyebrows at my unusual question, but he got the idea. "Look at it this way. Sauron knows of men. He knows of elves, and dwarves, and hobbits. He even knows of wizards. But he does not know of," Gandalf gave me a small smile and his eyes twinkled. "Teenage girls."
I had to think about that. "You know, that makes sense, in a backwards kind of way."
Gandalf stood. "The way I see it, Sauron will be looking for the ring, but he will not be looking for YOU. Indeed, who would trust the ring to such a person?"
Gandalf walked around me, and I stiffened. "But I know better. You are stubborn, determined, and ferocious in a pinch. You danced as a child, am I right? You are agile, quick on your feet, and long-suffering."
Facing me again, Gandalf nodded. "You are the one."
"What... what about Frodo?" I asked.
"Should I have failed to bring you here, he would bear the ring."
"But what about my friends?"
"They will be your Company. All of them are as suited for this as you are."
I felt dizzy, suddenly. "You want me to take the ring to Mordor? And chuck it in? Past all the Orcs and that spider thing and..." I felt like throwing up.
Gandalf put a hand on my shoulder. "You do not have to. You have time yet before the council of Elrond, where its fate will be decided."
"Gandalf," I whimpered. "It hurts already."
He turned away. "It will only hurt worse."
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I fled the room.
"Meg? What's wrong?"
"Nothing, nothing," I wiped the tears away and turned to face Shannon. She was beaming and rocking back and forth on her toes. "What?" I asked, starting to smile, too. "What?"
"Didn't you hear?" Shannon asked. I shook my head. "There's a party tonight! A feast and music and DANCING!" She twirled around my room, singing, very un-Shannon like.
I laughed. Then Shannon turned to me and gasped. "What are we going to WEAR?" she asked. I giggled.
"This is the first time I've heard you worry about what you're wearing." I grinned maliciously. "I don't think they have 'Invader Zim' t-shirts here."
Shannon got that half-evil, half-amused look in her eye. With a yell she grabbed up a pillow from my bed and swung. I ducked, and grabbed a second.
"Don't mess with me!" I said, taking a swing.
"As if!" Shannon yelled, thunking me a good one.
I reeled. "But I am LORD OF THE PILLOWS!" Whack! I hit her upside those glue on ears.
Shannon giggled and hit me again, and her pillow exploded. We both stopped and spat out feathers, and then laughed till it hurt.
"But seriously," I said, when I was done gasping. "What are we wearing?" I walked over to the closet and began pulling out clothes. "I don't see anything but dresses."
"A dress? No way." Shannon followed me.
I shrugged. "Fine. Go in the nude."
"I'll take that one," Shannon said quickly, picking out an absolutely gorgeous dress. It was a soft blue, cut in an "empire" - a short top and then a long, flowing skirt. It shimmered in the light, and, as Shannon fought her way into it, it was a perfect fit.
I smiled. "Wow, you look really pretty."
"Thanks," Shannon twirled in the mirror. "But what are you gonna wear?"
I pawed through the clothes, finally deciding on a beautiful white dress. It had a very high neck, almost a turtleneck, which was good because it meant I could wear the ring without attracting attention to it. The top of the dress was loose and ribbed, but a waistband of silver that tied in the back made the skirt puff out and fall right around my ankles.
I grinned. "What do you think?"
Shannon smirked and gave me a double thumbs up.
The party that night was amazing. Long banquet tables filled with all kinds of delicious food glowed in the candlelight, and soft music was playing.
After a while people stopped eating and began to dance. My friends and I watched, interested.
"Excuse me," Legolas said, coming up to Shannon. "May I have this dance?"
Shannon stared, open mouthed, and her spoon fell with a clatter to her bowl. I waited for her to move, or at least say something, but she didn't. Reaching over I gave her a sharp jab with my fork.
"Ya-OW! Oh, ah, oh... yes." Her voice squeaked a bit, but she got up, brushed her skirt down, and took the arm that Legolas offered. As he led her away Shannon looked back at me, grinning and wiggling her eyebrows.
Somebody tapped my shoulder - Frodo. "Would it please you to dance?" he asked, bowing.
I stood, smiling. "Very much," I said, but I knew it would be awkward trying to dance with someone a foot and a half shorter than me.
Out on the dance floor, Frodo taught me the steps of their version of a waltz. One step to the right, one step to the left, three steps in a circle and one step back. It was hard to get the hang of, but I got it, eventually. I looked over to see how Shannon was doing, and burst out laughing.
She was teaching Legolas the Macarena.
"Hee-ey, Macrena," Shannon sang, swiveling her hips. She and Legolas jumped and clapped their hands. "Aye!"
Frodo smiled at me. "Is something wrong?"
I fought to get control of myself. "No - no, nothing."
The song ended, and Legolas stopped in the middle - with one hand out in front and one hand behind his head. He looked disappointed as he let his arms fall.
The next song struck up, and people began a new dance, forming a circle. "Here, Meg," Frodo said, "I bow, you curtsy. Then one step to your right, one to the left, two forward, one back, you spin under my arm," (I had to duck for that part) "One to the right, one to the left, two back this time, one forward, we bow again, and you go to the next person."
"I - what?" But it was two late, I found myself dancing with another guy.
"Galen Silverbirch," the elf said, as he bowed. "M-Meg Hunter," I replied, curtsying.
Galen smiled. "It's a social dance, you see, to meet new people. You keep going around in a circle until you come back to your first."
"I see," I said, concentrating on getting the steps right. One back.. one... oh, sugar. Despite my less than coordinated dancing Galen smiled as we parted.
"Finrod Garulf," said my next partner, bowing. "You are Meg, are you not?"
"I am," I said, as we began to dance. "Does everyone know that?"
"Perhaps. Its not often we get so unusual a guest here."
"Unusual?" I resisted the urge to put a protective hand around the ring. Finrod just smiled as he bowed away.
"Dan the Giraffe," the next guy bowed.
I grinned. "Meg the Egg," I said, in all nick-name-fairness. Dan put his hand on my waist and we started to dance. "It's so weird here, you know?" I said. "I keep feeling like it's a dream."
"I know! All these hot elf-babes..."
"Dan!"
"What?" he asked, pretending to be indignant. I giggled as I spun under his arm.
"But Dan, what was up with you today at the practice grounds?"
Dan didn't answer, and it was time to move on.
I had a succession of very cute elf partners, but then - "Aragorn, son of Arathorn."
"Meg Hunter," I fought to keep my voice from trembling. One serious scary guy, here.
As we danced he stared at my face. I met his eyes defiantly. "You don't think I can do it," I whispered, accusingly.
"What makes you say that?"
"You're looking at me weird."
"I doubt your physical strength, that is all," he twirled me around, as if to prove it.
I thought carefully for a response. "Then perhaps you would coach me. I am stronger than I look."
Aragorn nodded his approval, and bowed away.
"Legolas Greenleaf."
I giggled, in spite of myself. "I'm Meg, Shannon's friend." Legolas smiled.
"Shannon is... interesting. She has strange customs for an elf..." He looked down at me. "For example, this Mak-ker-ena. Is it a healing dance?"
I shrugged, shaking my head and smiling. "Sure."
Legolas looked over my shoulder to where Shannon was dancing and sighed. I rolled my eyes and waited for the next dancer.
When the night was over I said goodnight to all my friends and to Frodo and waltzed back to my room. Shannon came with me, pulling petals off a flower she had taken from the hallway.
"He loves me, he love me not," she was muttering. "He loves me, he..." Shannon stopped. There was one petal left. She was silent for a moment, then - "He loves me!" she repeated, throwing the last petal away, gleefully.
I shook my head. "Good night, Shannon." I went into my room, sighing, thinking that the night's surprises were over.
Boy, was I wrong.
I paused just inside the door - something was wrong. But before I could turn around I felt someone grab me from behind, and before I could scream, I felt a knife at my throat.
"Give me the ring," a low voice demanded.