The Sword of Eärendil
Chapter 2. Hi?
I blinked a bit, and rubbed my eyes. As my vision focused, I sat up on the bed. I noticed at first that my feet were dangling off the far end of an awfully short bed. The room itself had a cheery atmosphere to it, portraits of funny-looking people hung on the walls. A single round window rest on one wall, letting some light in. "its day then," I said groggily, still not fully realizing that I was not in my bedroom.
."Armen tol usada?"
"Huh?" I said, suddenly getting pulled from my sleepy state. Looking around, I tried to let these foreign surrounds sink in. They didn't, and I began to start panicking. "Do. You. Speak. English?" I asked the man, hoping that he'd be able to tell me something about where I was.
"L'ran Hybotti, sul?" I began getting worried, I tried again;
"Parlez vous Francais?"
"Whynin holrus?"
The next few minutes consisted of similar conversation, until I heard a door creak open. Looking down a corridor connected to the bedroom I was in, I saw a large, round, green door swing open. A midget came in, curly brown hair on his head and feet. The midget walked up to the old man.
"Serin toll, Gandalf?"
Gandalf? Did he just call that old man Gandalf? I tried communication one more time.
"Elen sil lumenn omen tielvo, Mithrandir," I said, regretting that I had given up on learning Quenya. This got a major reaction, with Gandalf spewing forth Quenya, and I was beginning to feel hopelessly inundated in his sea of gibberish. Slowly it finally struck me; that wish I made came true! I was in Middle Earth!
As I couldn't hope to communicate with Gandalf, I lay back down, and went to sleep.
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When I woke up, it was nighttime. "How are you?" I looked to my left, and saw Gandalf sitting down in a rocking chair, smoking his long pipe.
"You speak English?" I asked, utterly confused.
"No, I put a speech charm on you. You will now be able to speak and understand the Common tongue with complete accuracy."
"Wow," I said to myself. "Gandalf, who was the hobbit that was with you?"
"Frodo Baggins."
After talking with Gandalf for a while, I soon learned that I was in The Shire, exactly two days before Bilbo's eleventy-first birthday party. It seems I was discovered unconscious a day prior in the meadow south of Hobbiton by Gandalf as he rode into the town. I was excited, and wanted to go out, but the wizard advised me to rest, at least until morning. Before he left, he handed me a familiar wooden object.
"You were holding this when you were found," he said, and then left the room.
I put my sword on the ground and went to sleep, too tired to wonder why I had my sword with me in Middle Earth.
The next morning, I woke up before Bilbo, Frodo, and Gandalf. Making my way to Bilbo's third pantry, I gathered up enough food for a fairly large breakfast, even by Hobbit standards. I made Gandalf's tea quite easily, and then began working on the omelets. Thirty minutes later Bilbo walked in. "What are you doing in my kitchen!" he screamed, grabbing a large ladle, he charged at me. Grabbing a dirty frying pan, I began deflecting blow after blow from Bilbo's ladle. Eventually the stout man managed to strike me in the groin, causing me to go down with a quiet 'ow'.
"Honestly Bilbo, you'll wake up the whole Shire with your racket." Gandalf entered the room. Looking down at me, he smiled, and said "I see you have met our visitor?"
"You mean this is that boy you found in the meadow?"
"Duh," I whispered, getting up slowly.
"Duh?" the two asked in unison.
"Oh, never mind," I said, and went back to making breakfast.
"And what do you think your doing?" Bilbo asked.
"Making breakfast, the bacon is almost done."
"I can make my own breakfast," Bilbo said irritably, and pushed me out of the way.
After a rather tense breakfast with the Bagginses and Gandalf, I went outside to explore Hobbiton.
Chapter 2. Hi?
I blinked a bit, and rubbed my eyes. As my vision focused, I sat up on the bed. I noticed at first that my feet were dangling off the far end of an awfully short bed. The room itself had a cheery atmosphere to it, portraits of funny-looking people hung on the walls. A single round window rest on one wall, letting some light in. "its day then," I said groggily, still not fully realizing that I was not in my bedroom.
."Armen tol usada?"
"Huh?" I said, suddenly getting pulled from my sleepy state. Looking around, I tried to let these foreign surrounds sink in. They didn't, and I began to start panicking. "Do. You. Speak. English?" I asked the man, hoping that he'd be able to tell me something about where I was.
"L'ran Hybotti, sul?" I began getting worried, I tried again;
"Parlez vous Francais?"
"Whynin holrus?"
The next few minutes consisted of similar conversation, until I heard a door creak open. Looking down a corridor connected to the bedroom I was in, I saw a large, round, green door swing open. A midget came in, curly brown hair on his head and feet. The midget walked up to the old man.
"Serin toll, Gandalf?"
Gandalf? Did he just call that old man Gandalf? I tried communication one more time.
"Elen sil lumenn omen tielvo, Mithrandir," I said, regretting that I had given up on learning Quenya. This got a major reaction, with Gandalf spewing forth Quenya, and I was beginning to feel hopelessly inundated in his sea of gibberish. Slowly it finally struck me; that wish I made came true! I was in Middle Earth!
As I couldn't hope to communicate with Gandalf, I lay back down, and went to sleep.
************************************************************************
When I woke up, it was nighttime. "How are you?" I looked to my left, and saw Gandalf sitting down in a rocking chair, smoking his long pipe.
"You speak English?" I asked, utterly confused.
"No, I put a speech charm on you. You will now be able to speak and understand the Common tongue with complete accuracy."
"Wow," I said to myself. "Gandalf, who was the hobbit that was with you?"
"Frodo Baggins."
After talking with Gandalf for a while, I soon learned that I was in The Shire, exactly two days before Bilbo's eleventy-first birthday party. It seems I was discovered unconscious a day prior in the meadow south of Hobbiton by Gandalf as he rode into the town. I was excited, and wanted to go out, but the wizard advised me to rest, at least until morning. Before he left, he handed me a familiar wooden object.
"You were holding this when you were found," he said, and then left the room.
I put my sword on the ground and went to sleep, too tired to wonder why I had my sword with me in Middle Earth.
The next morning, I woke up before Bilbo, Frodo, and Gandalf. Making my way to Bilbo's third pantry, I gathered up enough food for a fairly large breakfast, even by Hobbit standards. I made Gandalf's tea quite easily, and then began working on the omelets. Thirty minutes later Bilbo walked in. "What are you doing in my kitchen!" he screamed, grabbing a large ladle, he charged at me. Grabbing a dirty frying pan, I began deflecting blow after blow from Bilbo's ladle. Eventually the stout man managed to strike me in the groin, causing me to go down with a quiet 'ow'.
"Honestly Bilbo, you'll wake up the whole Shire with your racket." Gandalf entered the room. Looking down at me, he smiled, and said "I see you have met our visitor?"
"You mean this is that boy you found in the meadow?"
"Duh," I whispered, getting up slowly.
"Duh?" the two asked in unison.
"Oh, never mind," I said, and went back to making breakfast.
"And what do you think your doing?" Bilbo asked.
"Making breakfast, the bacon is almost done."
"I can make my own breakfast," Bilbo said irritably, and pushed me out of the way.
After a rather tense breakfast with the Bagginses and Gandalf, I went outside to explore Hobbiton.