New Arrivals
Gandalf and Elrond, spying on Frodo and Sam from Elrond's cool Elvish balcony.
Elrond: His strength returns.
Gandalf: No kidding! As soon as we got him away from your daughter he recovered nicely, thank you!
Elrond: Hey, it's not my fault Aragorn handed him over to her! I wasn't there! Urrrgh! *disgusted at this blatant unfairness* Yet to have come so far still bearing the Ring, the Hobbit has shown remarkable resilience to its evil.
Gandalf: *sees a plot forming in Elrond's evil mind* It is a burden he should never have had to bear. We can ask no more of Frodo.
Elrond: Gandalf, the Enemy is moving. Sauron's forces are massing in the East. The Eye is fixed on Rivendell. Now you tell me Saruman has betrayed us. Our list of allies grows thin.
Gandalf: His treachery goes deeper than you know. By foul craft, Saruman has crossed orcs with goblin men. He is breeding an army in the caverns of Isengard.
Elrond: *grimacing* Ewww...That was a picture I did not need...
Gandalf: *ignores Elrond's 'eww'-ing* An army that can move in sunlight, and travel great distances at speed. Saruman is coming for the Ring.
Elrond: This evil cannot be concealed by the power of the Elves. We do not have the strength to fight both Mordor and Isengard. Gandalf. The Ring cannot stay here.
Boromir arrives, and Legolas with his nanny and entourage, and a group of Dwarves.
Elrond: This peril belongs-*distracted by the arrival of Legolas* Oooh! *drools over the balcony* Who's that? Oh, she is soo cute...
Gandalf: *rolling his eyes* Get a grip. That's a guy.
Elrond: *blushes* Oh. *recovers* But it's cute anyway. *watches Legolas dismount*
Gandalf starts to roll his eyes again, but then jumps suddenly with a yelp, pulled rudely out of his eye-rolling fest by a memory of his precious film.
Gandalf: Ah! Film, Elrond!
Elrond: *pouting and gazing longingly after Legolas* Oh, whatever...*begins again* This peril belongs to all Middle-earth, and they must decide now how to end it. The time of the Elves is over. My people are leaving these shores. Who will you look to when we are gone? The Dwarves? They hide in their mountains seeking riches, they care nothing for the troubles of others!
Gandalf: It is in Men we must place our hope.
Elrond: Men! The race of Men is weak, failing. The blood of Numenor is all but spent, its pride and dignity forgotten. It is because of Men that the Ring survives. I was there. I was there three thousand years ago, when Isildur took the Ring. I was there the day the strength of Men failed.
Isildur takes the Ring.
Elrond: Follow me!
Elrond: I led Isildur into the heart of Mount Doom, where it was forged, the one place it could be destroyed.
Elrond: Cast it into the fire! Destroy it!
Isildur: *pouts and crosses his arms* No! I won't. It's mine, nobody ever lets me keep anything pretty! But I'm keeping this, hmph, so there. *lifts his nose and prances off*
Elrond: ISILDUR!! GET BACK HERE!! I'm warning you, Isildur, I'll tell your fath-oh, oops, forgot he's dead now. Uhh...Your mother? No, she's dead too! BLEEP it all!*follows Isildur out of Mount Doom's innards still pondering how to stop him*
Elrond: It should have ended that day, but evil was allowed to endure. Isildur kept the Ring. The line of Kings is broken. There is no strength left in the world of Men. They are scattered, divided, leaderless.
Gandalf: There is one who could unite them. Who could reclaim the throne of Gondor.
Elrond imagines little cartoon Aragorn snatching throne of Gondor and running off with it, squealing, 'hee, hee, hee, hee! It's mine, all mine!', and quickly pushes thought away.
Elrond: He turned from that path a long time ago. He has chosen exile.
Strider sits in the Museum of Rivendell, looking really pouty and reading a book, while across the room Boromir looks at the displays.
Boromir: The shards of Narsil. The blade that cut the Ring from Sauron's hand.
Boromir stupidly runs his finger over the edge of the sword, and cuts said finger on it.
Boromir: OWOWOWOW!! That HURT!...
Strider, from across room: Film, you idiot! Film!
Boromir recovers sufficiently to stop sucking on his finger and manages to whimper next lines before racing out to get a bandaid from Elrond.
Boromir: *really fast* Still sharp. But no more than a broken heirloom.
The sword hilt falls when Boromir tries to replace it on the statue and races out. Aragorn picks it up and returns it to its place. Arwen comes in behind him.
Arwen: Why do you fear the past?
Strider: AHH! *spins around* Oh, you scared me! What are you doing, stalking me?!
Arwen: No. I just came to say that you are Isildur's heir, not Isildur himself. You are not bound to his fate.
Strider: *disheartenedly* The same blood flows in my veins.
Arwen: *revolted* Oh, gross! Really?! The same blood as a long-dead guy, oh that is sooo icky...
Strider: Not literally, you idj-uh, I mean, darling. I meant I'm from his bloodline. Get it? The same weakness.
Arwen: Your time will come. You will face the same evil, and you will defeat it. The shadow does not yet hold sway. Not over you, not over me.
Scene changes to a bridge with Arwen and Strider on top. (A/N On top, eh? Hmmm-wait, that's het! Ewwww, yuck! I can't do het...!)
Arwen: Do you remember the first time we met?
Strider: I thought I had strayed into a dream. An evil dream...a nightmare. There you were...
Arwen: *interrupts* Long years have passed since then. You did not have the cares you carry now. Do you remember what I told you?
Strider: You said you would bind yourself to me. *shudders at the thought of living with Arwen day in and day out* You'd give up that whole 'immortal' thing you Elves have going, for me. *under his breath* To torture me forever...
Arwen: And to that I hold. I would rather share one lifetime with you, as Queen, than face all the Ages of the world alone, as a darn princess. I choose a mortal life.
Arwen hands her sparkly necklace over to Strider, hoping to bribe him into not dumping her with a promise of riches. Strider misses entirely the fact that he is being given something really valuable.
Strider: You cannot give me this. It's a girl's necklace! What if the others see me wearing it? They'll think I'm a pansy!
Arwen: *irritated* You're RUINING our love-scene! And besides-*leans in close to whisper* I can smell you, and the scent you are giving off is most definitely NOT a pansy. Nope, more like that manure-pile...*pauses for effect before trying to salvage the scene* It is mine to give to whom I will. Like my heart.