Dragon Witch
By Nezumi
Chapter Six: In Which We Shall Discuss Politics
Politicians are funny things. They lead us into both despair and hope, yet they contradict themselves so many times, making false promises and fake hopes. Occasionally, one shall come along that outshines all the others, but all politicians are mortal, making them all susceptible to disgrace. Accordingly because of their status, their mistakes are more known to the public than the public's own.
Some politicians are more easily corrupted than others. They accept the bribes of the slick and sleazy lobbyist, and coincidentally monarchs such as princes and kings are susceptible to becoming something like a democratic ruler, for they themselves also become czars. Such was true in Middle Earth.
"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"
Thranduil had been a fair king of Mirkwood, not overly fabulous, yet far better than his father had been, but still not quite up to the scale of Elrond. Once Mirkwood had been the center of all trade, the portal of all trade from east to west and quite powerful. This had all deteriorated under Thranduil's rule. He had been torn at the death of his wife, when their son was only but five. Elves are supposed to live forever, he would always walk about the castle muttering. He recovered eventually, yet never had quite the same hold on Mirkwood as before and thus it fell into some its darker times.
"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"
The Kingdom of Mirkwood still reigned some of the highest of the elven-worlds, but it had once been nearly as great a Lórien. Surely it had to be the land—Rhovanion, the land that bordered Rhûn; Rhûn the land that bordered the Forbidden East. Rhovanion had fell into complete peril once Galadriel and her ring had left, causing undue stress upon Thranduil. He had been easy bait for the Black Queen.
"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"
The dwarves, however, kept their secret ruling system safe from all destruction. Moria had been strong hold until its deterioration, and now seemed to an outsider to be dispersed about Middle Earth. Still, even after Gimli from the Lonely Mountain had seen the grand Lórien dwarves and elves still fought with one another. Whether it was over something of use, as a wrong-doing of one or whether it was over a tavern chair, they argued. Legolas, son of Thranduil and Gimli, son of Gloín had been one, or two, as the case may be of a kind.
"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"
That had just been shattered. Upon her way to Mirkwood, the Black Queen had unfortunately stumbled upon the Lonely Mountain more or less. As Elrond had eluded to in his brief visit with Legolas, Gimli was under her spell—his mind, though knowing it wrong, twisted like a puppet on a string to her command.
"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"
Elrond had been deemed 'The Councilor' since his famous council and gathering of the Fellowship. They too were famous in politics, and at The Council of the Races held every year, subsequently following the fall equinox, were a current refute to any question to hard to answer. Peregrin Took, otherwise known simply as Pippin, thought this to be of a hilarious nature and chronically was known to break into uncontrolled fits of laughter at this rebut to a question.
"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"
This autumn however it seemed, contrary to Elrond's usual admant meeting schedule it was to be canceled. Instead, a war council was being held. For though, the message had not yet arrived at the Greenleaf family's front door step—the elves and the dwarves were at war.
.-*-.
A.N. Seemed pretty pointless 'til the end, ne? Another short chapter, but kinda important. I think. But its kinda like what's supposed happening, ya know? Oh, well… *sighs* Chapter Seven will be better! I promise. (And not just rambling about politics) Oh, I should also note: That line that kept repeating was on purpose! ^.^ Of course!
E-Mail messy@usa.com
P.S. Still nothing in Chinese/Norwegian/Gaelic? Alright. I give up. *sigh*
By Nezumi
Chapter Six: In Which We Shall Discuss Politics
Politicians are funny things. They lead us into both despair and hope, yet they contradict themselves so many times, making false promises and fake hopes. Occasionally, one shall come along that outshines all the others, but all politicians are mortal, making them all susceptible to disgrace. Accordingly because of their status, their mistakes are more known to the public than the public's own.
Some politicians are more easily corrupted than others. They accept the bribes of the slick and sleazy lobbyist, and coincidentally monarchs such as princes and kings are susceptible to becoming something like a democratic ruler, for they themselves also become czars. Such was true in Middle Earth.
"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"
Thranduil had been a fair king of Mirkwood, not overly fabulous, yet far better than his father had been, but still not quite up to the scale of Elrond. Once Mirkwood had been the center of all trade, the portal of all trade from east to west and quite powerful. This had all deteriorated under Thranduil's rule. He had been torn at the death of his wife, when their son was only but five. Elves are supposed to live forever, he would always walk about the castle muttering. He recovered eventually, yet never had quite the same hold on Mirkwood as before and thus it fell into some its darker times.
"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"
The Kingdom of Mirkwood still reigned some of the highest of the elven-worlds, but it had once been nearly as great a Lórien. Surely it had to be the land—Rhovanion, the land that bordered Rhûn; Rhûn the land that bordered the Forbidden East. Rhovanion had fell into complete peril once Galadriel and her ring had left, causing undue stress upon Thranduil. He had been easy bait for the Black Queen.
"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"
The dwarves, however, kept their secret ruling system safe from all destruction. Moria had been strong hold until its deterioration, and now seemed to an outsider to be dispersed about Middle Earth. Still, even after Gimli from the Lonely Mountain had seen the grand Lórien dwarves and elves still fought with one another. Whether it was over something of use, as a wrong-doing of one or whether it was over a tavern chair, they argued. Legolas, son of Thranduil and Gimli, son of Gloín had been one, or two, as the case may be of a kind.
"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"
That had just been shattered. Upon her way to Mirkwood, the Black Queen had unfortunately stumbled upon the Lonely Mountain more or less. As Elrond had eluded to in his brief visit with Legolas, Gimli was under her spell—his mind, though knowing it wrong, twisted like a puppet on a string to her command.
"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"
Elrond had been deemed 'The Councilor' since his famous council and gathering of the Fellowship. They too were famous in politics, and at The Council of the Races held every year, subsequently following the fall equinox, were a current refute to any question to hard to answer. Peregrin Took, otherwise known simply as Pippin, thought this to be of a hilarious nature and chronically was known to break into uncontrolled fits of laughter at this rebut to a question.
"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"
This autumn however it seemed, contrary to Elrond's usual admant meeting schedule it was to be canceled. Instead, a war council was being held. For though, the message had not yet arrived at the Greenleaf family's front door step—the elves and the dwarves were at war.
.-*-.
A.N. Seemed pretty pointless 'til the end, ne? Another short chapter, but kinda important. I think. But its kinda like what's supposed happening, ya know? Oh, well… *sighs* Chapter Seven will be better! I promise. (And not just rambling about politics) Oh, I should also note: That line that kept repeating was on purpose! ^.^ Of course!
E-Mail messy@usa.com
P.S. Still nothing in Chinese/Norwegian/Gaelic? Alright. I give up. *sigh*