To my reviewers:
I must apologize to all of you. The story that was started to get over writer's block has now become the cause of it…my English teacher has us write for her class constantly, and I think I've killed most of my plot bunnies. ::looks sadly to where they lay dead on the floor by computer:: So if you know anyone who wants to get rid of some, I'll adopt! (and marching season is over for us now, so updates should be coming MUCH more frequently)
Ellewyn Greenleaf: thank you. I think you might be on your way to being my number one reviewer. I'm glad the rest of your band liked it too. Tell them thanks!
Sangwalen: ::grins:: sexy saxophones? I like that! Except at our school it should probably be perverted saxophones…hehehe…some of the others have VERY twisted minds. Not that I'm one to talk…hehe
Alyak: yeah, we do have a color guard here—my best friend is on it. I explain in this chapter why none of them are on it.
Fool of a Took: ours was from 8-5. You might get this impression from the chapter, but lots of our section leaders are kind of scary. I tried to put them all in *good* sections—and our trombone section is very scary—section leader who isn't all there, and sophomore who is mean and acts like the section leader (and tortures the freshmen).
Chapter 3:
Lunchtime on Wednesday:
Pippin stares at the spaghetti on his plate and starts to say something about how little it was, but I shove him on. The other hobbits take note of this and only take what they're offered. "Look, that may not look like much to a hobbit," I tell him, "but it's quite a lot for a human."
"Really?"
"Yes," I reply, quite seriously.
"How do you keep from starving to death?" asks Pippin in horror. "Merry, I just don't understand!" he tells his cousin. "They only eat 3 times a day, and some of them only 2, and they eat so little when they do eat, and they're all still alive!"
The rest of the fellowship (minus, of course, the other 3 hobbits, who are equally puzzled) share a laugh with me about this. The hobbits are still very confused about humans, even after Gandalf's explanations and travelling with the fellowship and its non-hobbit members for a while. We find seats for all ten of us (plus a few of my very best friends) at one of the tables, and settle down to eat. The hobbits ignore the rest of us to concentrate on their food. As soon as they're finished (which is much sooner than the rest of us) they go around to eat the salads that most people (mostly the guys, actually) have left uneaten on the table. We let them, figuring that this will keep them out of trouble.
Of course, trouble won't stay away from the rest of us. A color-guard member wanders up to the table, and smiles at Legolas. "Hello, there," she says, and he exchanges greetings with her. "So, to get down to the point, I noticed you didn't have any of them join the guard," she tells me with a glare. "You should have. We could use the extra people."
"Well, you see, Beth, you guys were all inside when they showed up, and I forgot about you," I tell her calmly.
"How could you forget about us?" she wails.
"Um…because I only know one of you well," I try.
"So?"
"Um…I just did, ok? Sorry."
"You aren't sorry. If you were sorry, then you'd change your mind and let somebody join me."
"Like who?"
"Oh, I don't care. Him, I guess" she says casually, pointing at Aragorn.
"Sorry, the altos need him," I reply.
"Well, what about him?" she asks, pointing a Legolas.
"No! He's with me! Don't you dare try to take him away!" I cry, and then notice everyone is looking at me oddly. "Um, I mean—Legolas, do you want to go be a part of the guard?"
"The guard? Oh, you mean the people with the flags and fake swords and fake—other things?"
"The other things are called rifles. Rifles. And yeah, that's who it is."
"Um…no. I don't think so. Their instructor seems unkind," he says.
"Well, Matt is kind of mean," I admit.
"He's just strict, is all," Beth protests.
"Yeah, and that's just why he gets mad all of the time and yells at you," I say.
"That doesn't happen," Beth argues, and I realize that that doesn't happen, not at band camp (A/N: realize I am writing this several weeks after band camp has ended, and I've given my band camp self knowledge of the future. So it's confusing, I know, but bear it, please. And the guard instructor really is mean—that's why I didn't put any of them in guard.)
"Oh. Um…."
"I still don't want to do that," says Legolas as politely as possible. "I am just getting to know my oboe. His name is Joel," he tells Beth solemnly.
"Really?" she asks him, staring at him oddly. "Maybe you can stay with that….um … what-ya-ma-call-it instrument."
"An oboe," I say wearily, and she says,
"Yeah. That thing."
She gets up and hurries away, glancing back at us with an odd look every once in a while. I sigh, and look at Legolas apologetically.
"Sorry."
"Hey, it's alright. You can't help what she does."
"Thank you. So anyway, I was thinking—"
"Look! There he is!" I whip my head around, and see several girls that I don't know (and who aren't in the band) banging on the doors to get in. Another band member unknowingly goes to let them in.
"NO!" I shriek, but it's already to late.
"Yay!" scream the girls, knocking the poor band member over in there rush to our table. The hobbits turn from their salad eating (and exclamations of "Hey, that one has more mushrooms than mine!) to see the girls. They yelp in horror, and as one, flee into the bandroom. The group splits in two, with one group following the hobbits and the other converging on our table.
"Legolas!" cries one girl, locking him in a hug.
"Aragorn!" shrieks another, knocking he and his chair over.
"Boromir!" yells a third, grabbing him as he tries to flee. (note: Gimli and Gandalf look very pleased about the fact that no one is chasing them. I ask them later why they don't get jealous and Gimli replies: "Huh. Like I'd get jealous. Naturally those girls have bad taste—they aren't dwarves!" and Gandalf says: "I'm old. I don't have the energy to fend off mobs of young girls.")
I look around and notice for the first time that the other girls have, unfortunately, found out where the hobbits went. I sigh, wondering if I should save the elf and humans or the hobbits. I settle on a compromise. "Gandalf!"
"What?"
"Here, look, here in the handbook for the school—hugging isn't allowed." (and it really isn't!)
"So?
"So you have to make them stop since we gave you adult responsibilities." Gandalf sighs and starts knocking crazed fan-girls out by smacking them on the head with his staff. "Gimli, help him," I command, "and use the handle of your ax! The handle—you can't kill anyone!" I run towards the bandroom as I hear Gimli yell.
"Back away, you smelly rabid fan-girls, before I chop your heads off!"
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As I arrive in the bandroom, I find that the hobbits have actually done quite well for themselves—they've managed to hide behind the percussion equipment. The fan-girls are frantically searching together, and don't even notice the addition of myself to their number. (plus one is chanting Frodofrodofrodofrodofrodo so loudly I'm amazed they can hear themselves thing…then again, maybe they can't!)
"I can't imagine why my little Pippin doesn't want to be cuddled!" says one.
"Pippin? Ugh! Frodo is much cuter!" squeals one. I cringe. I have a sort of high voice, and I can squeak when necessary, but that was ANNOYING!
I try to not let that show, though. I must pretend I am one of these crazed maniacs if I am to protect the hobbits as I promised that I would.
"Look!" I exclaim, trying to make my voice higher. "Looklooklook! I see Sam!" I point to the doors that lead to the equipment room.
A girl cries out in excitement and runs towards the equipment room. A few others follow her. I stare at the rest and yell, "Come on!"
"I just want to cuddle Frodo!" cries the girl who's been chanting his name.
"NO! MERRY!"
"PIPPIN!"
They look like they're going to start a brawl right there in the middle of the band room. I really don't want that. Mr. Sanders would kill me. So: "Hey guys! Don't the hobbits go everywhere together?!"
"Oh…yeah, I guess they do."
"I bet they're all together!"
They charge past me into the equipment room. I hurry after, and point to the doors leading outside. "They're that way. Outside. And you have to run really fast and hard away from the school to find them, all right?"
"Yeah!" scream the girls, and they practically rip the doors open. I slam the doors shut, and go to see how Gandalf and Gimli have fared.
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"Yeah, that's right! Don't come back!" roars Gimli, and I watch as the remaining fan-girls flee for their lives. I smile, and then look at the mess around the room…
"Mr. Sanders is going to be so mad," I groan, noting the overturned chairs and spilled food.. Gandalf sighs, and straightens his robes "I'll take care of it," he says. "I've already had several other adults offer to help me. You ought to go practice your music some more," he sighs, hurrying to clean up the mess. As soon as the other eight and I leave the safety of Gandalf's company, we're onslaught by the rest of the band.
"Who were those people?"
"What was wrong with those girls?"
"They seriously had problems!"
"They better not have hurt my drum player!"
"Or my saxophones!"
"Yeah!"
"Cassandra, who were they?"
"Woah! Slow down! Those girls were fan-girls. They are completely and totally devoted to everything related to The Lord of the Rings—especially the Fellowship. Now, you see, I myself and also a fan-girl, I am just not a rabid one—I understand that the guys need a little breathing space (::giggles:: I can say this because they aren't really here—if they were, I'd be latched on the Legolas with one arm, Aragorn with the other! lol!). Right guys?"
"Right!"
"Yeah, that's pretty much it."
"That's it! That's what I've been needing!"
"Gimli was not the target of an attack, and is consequently ok, though he defended his friends bravely," I add quickly, as Gimli glares. "Aragorn and Boromir are also fine, Lia, so calm down. Breathe. It's ok." Questions answered, we relax.
Our resting time is not long, though, because Mr. Sanders suddenly yells: "Everyone back outside! GO! We have a lot of work to do!" We sigh and stand wearily, then walk outside. However, I realize I've left the hobbits in the band room. I hurry to get them, and they sigh when I tell them we have to get back to work. "Does that mean lunch is over?"
"Yes, Pippin, it does."
