- two - The Rising of the Scone
A few months later, something stirred in Middle Earth. It was a golden brown scone, and it smelled
delicious. Carefully, the scone used her arms to get up. She had two jam blobs for eyes and two arms on either
side of her body. Looking around the inside of Mount Doom with vague surprise, Kemen Yäve waddled out
of her corner and out of the mountain.
The fruit scone looked up at the dark sky. She immediately felt evil stirring in this bleak land, but her
anxiety was quickly replaced by a need for adventure. The little scone made her way slowly down the
mountain, aware of how isolated this place was. She decided that she would have to get out of this dark, evil
smelling place and find somewhere more interesting, and less frightening.
The sun retreated away from Mordor, and sky grew dark. As Kemen Yäve waddled about in no specific
direction - she was probably going around in circles for all she knew or cared - she saw a bright yellow statue
in the far-away distance, illuminating the grey rock on which it stood. She hurried towards it, longing to see
something other than the black, jagged mountain.
Seventeen days later she arrived at the foot of the statue and looked up in awe. It was not a statue, but a
blade of grass. Not just any blade of grass, though. It was a foot high, yellow abomination... that sang. And it
sang to her startled face; "Greetings oh wondrous sconey scone! What brings you to Mordor?"
Kemen Yäve stared in disbelief at the blade of grass, shook her crumbly self and once again looked up at
the yellow blade. It had a kindly face with a horizontal slit for a mouth, and eyes that were a slightly different
shade of yellow from its body.
"I was baked here, and I don't know how to get out of this barren wasteland," Kemen Yäve said in what
she hoped was a confident voice.
"Ah! A-HA! I can help you there! I am Lina, the magical, musical, yellow, foot high blade of grass!!!!!"
sang Lina, ending on a crescendo that shook the ground.
Kemen Yäve stared again.
Lina stared back with round, inquisitive, dark yellow eyes, and again began to sing. "Let me help you!
Let me help you! I have known this land for years: you are in Mordor, and if I don't help you, you will be
close to tears... before the end of the DAY!"
"Mordor?" she repeated timidly after Lina had finished.
"Yes, Mordor... don't say you haven't heard of it. Mordor... the wasteland of death and shit. Mordor...
the home of Sauron the git..."
"Er, how did you end up in this place?" the scone asked, and soon wished she hadn't. At once, Lina
became sad and sorrowful. Her elegant, yellow grass tip of a head drooped.
"I will not speak of what has befallen such a cheerful grass blade, such a cheerful grass blade..." Lina
sang tragically. Kemen Yäve looked up at her with sympathy, and slight confusion. Suddenly Lina
straightened up and burst into a joyful melody.
"But that has all gone - the evil, the torture, the countless years of pain! For I am free, now... I have
escaped from the field I once knew, the place I grew up in alone... That is all I shall say... for now.
"I have spoken for longer than I planned, we must leave this empty land. Now, where do you wish to go?
We must leave before the snow. Winter is ever near, and it's the cold that I fear. Come, follow my song, and
we shall run north to Morannon! Or maybe you'd prefer the air to be of cleaner smell? Then let us journey
west to Rivendell! Or Lothlórien, if your heart is clear, and then perhaps to Mirrormere? I can take you
wherever you wish to go, but let us leave before the snow!"
This was a lot of information for a mere scone to take in, and Kemen Yäve's eyes shined with delight at
the prospect of adventure. "Of course, let us leave!" she cried. "If I am forced to stay here for yet another
month I shall eat myself! My friend, tell me more of Middle Earth."
And so the two bounced merrily along the grey plains of Mordor, talking and listening to tales of old.
Their clear song and laughter shook the black mountains and, although they did not know it, the sound of
their presence was heard by many.
After a few weeks, they were within sight of Cirith Ungol. One night they were lying on their backs,
staring up at the stars and talking about Mordor and the sense of foreboding Lina was feeling. Lina told
Kemen Yäve about how she sang to Sauron last year during her annual journey away from Mordor, just
before Winter arrived. She described him as a merry fellow, who took care not to step on her. However, she
sang, since four months ago, roughly the time Kemen Yäve was created, Lina had been careful to avoid him
during her roaming around Mordor. She sang that he had left his little cottage surrounded by rose bushes and
his pet chickens, and had somehow managed to begin to build himself what seemed would eventually be a
fortress of great size. Three weeks ago, not long after leaving the place where the two companions had met,
the scone had looked upon the half finished tower of Barad Dûr with interest when Lina quietly pointed it out
to her in a rather grim sonnet. They were very glad that they were walking in the opposite direction.
After discussing Sauron and his possible plans, the conversation drifted towards what they would do
once out of Mordor. It seemed that they would pass Cirith Ungol in just a few days, yet they still had not
decided where to go from there.
"I wish to go to that place you spoke of yesterday, Lina. What was it called... was it Moria?"
"Ah, yes," sang Lina, "Moria. I think you would enjoy exploring that place. The caverns, the grandness,
all made to impress. But I may be wrong - I have never been to Moria before, yet I heard tales, long ago when
I was young. Just an innocent shoot in the field... " A wistful look came into Lina's eyes. "Alas, I shall never
journey that far away from Mordor; Mordor is the only place for me... so I expect you shall one day have to
return and tell me all about Moria."
"What?" said Kemen Yäve in surprise. "You aren't coming with me to Moria?"
"Oh, no! It is much too far! I could not possibly..."
"But..." the scone protested, beginning to panic. "But you say Rivendell is even further north than Moria;
will you not go there either?"
Lina laughed. "Of course not, my dear scone! I must return to Mordor before the spring. I could not
possibly journey to any place farther away than Fangorn forest! How would I get back to Mordor in time?"
Lina gracefully shook her head, laughing softly. All was silent for a moment while Kemen Yäve sat,
deep in thought.
"Lina," she began quietly. "Will you not tell me your story?"
"I have told you many stories already. We must rest soon if we wish to visit Gondor for twenty days, as
you wish."
"I need you not to tell me more stories of Middle Earth. But I would like it muchly if you could tell me
why you need to return to Mordor before the Spring, as you so often say."
"Ah, that is a long tale filled with much sadness, I am afraid." Lina bowed her head. "Are you sure you
wish to hear it?"
"Of course!" Kemen Yäve looked up at Lina eagerly.
"Eh, very well then." Lina spoke softly, looking up at the stars while she pondered how to tell the story.
"I shall tell it to you without a song; I have no doubt that you have grown tired of my endless melodies."
The scone shook her body (as she had no head) in denial. "Why would you suggest such a thing?"
"Many beings are easily irritated by my songs; grass blades, dandelions, ice buns... they're usually
bloody terrified when I start to sing. I don't suppose anyone has ever met a singing grass blade. But my
singing never used to cause a problem. It all began with my blade colour. You see, I am not nearly as green as
normal grass. In fact, I'm positively yellow. That is what set me apart as a young shoot, and that is why the
other shoots teased me. So I began to sing. I discovered I could sing very well, so I sang some more. Soon, I
had a song for everything, from sonnets about the sky to normal everyday conversation... not that I conversed
much with other beings: I was usually just singing to myself. In a dark corner. Beneath a rock, perhaps.
"Anyway, one day I was singing in an empty puddle of mud, (since all the grass blades had run away
from me, as usual) when out of nowhere came one of my aunties. She told me that I would have to leave, since
I seemed intent on singing day in, day out. Apparently it was causing quite a problem, as whenever I arrived
in a field all the grass blades within the field wanted to evacuate, and many of them die in the struggle to get
away from me...
"So I was banished from all the fields of Middle Earth. I was told I would have to spend the rest of my
life in Mordor, where nothing grows... Of course, I am allowed back to other places when winter comes, and
it's a good thing too; the winter in Mordor is harsher than winter in any other land.
"I visit Gondor, usually, where I can warm myself by people's fires. But I have to make sure I get back to
Mordor before Spring, as that's when all the plants are reborn again. I still do not mix well with other grass
blades - not when I am known throughout Middle Earth as a Disturber of the Peace." Lina hung her grass tip
sadly.
Kemen Yäve stared speechless at Lina, disbelieving that any beings could be so cruel.
"That's terrible, Lina... so you spend most of your year here? In Mordor?"
"Well, yes, it's the only way I could possibly be allowed to- "
A piercing shriek rang through Mordor, startling Lina into silence. The two companions looked up at the
sky in surprise as what seemed to be a bird flew high above their heads. But it was too large for a bird. As it
passed over them, it slowed down, and they lay still in the shadows, hoping not to be seen or heard. They
were lucky; the creature passed over them without further delay.
"What was that?" the scone asked quietly.
"That was a creature I have heard several times during our journey, and I am sure it has heard us as well.
We must be careful when we pass the border of Mordor... we would not like it if we were to get squishayed."
"Squishayed?"
Lina nodded, and straightened up, falling asleep.
A few months later, something stirred in Middle Earth. It was a golden brown scone, and it smelled
delicious. Carefully, the scone used her arms to get up. She had two jam blobs for eyes and two arms on either
side of her body. Looking around the inside of Mount Doom with vague surprise, Kemen Yäve waddled out
of her corner and out of the mountain.
The fruit scone looked up at the dark sky. She immediately felt evil stirring in this bleak land, but her
anxiety was quickly replaced by a need for adventure. The little scone made her way slowly down the
mountain, aware of how isolated this place was. She decided that she would have to get out of this dark, evil
smelling place and find somewhere more interesting, and less frightening.
The sun retreated away from Mordor, and sky grew dark. As Kemen Yäve waddled about in no specific
direction - she was probably going around in circles for all she knew or cared - she saw a bright yellow statue
in the far-away distance, illuminating the grey rock on which it stood. She hurried towards it, longing to see
something other than the black, jagged mountain.
Seventeen days later she arrived at the foot of the statue and looked up in awe. It was not a statue, but a
blade of grass. Not just any blade of grass, though. It was a foot high, yellow abomination... that sang. And it
sang to her startled face; "Greetings oh wondrous sconey scone! What brings you to Mordor?"
Kemen Yäve stared in disbelief at the blade of grass, shook her crumbly self and once again looked up at
the yellow blade. It had a kindly face with a horizontal slit for a mouth, and eyes that were a slightly different
shade of yellow from its body.
"I was baked here, and I don't know how to get out of this barren wasteland," Kemen Yäve said in what
she hoped was a confident voice.
"Ah! A-HA! I can help you there! I am Lina, the magical, musical, yellow, foot high blade of grass!!!!!"
sang Lina, ending on a crescendo that shook the ground.
Kemen Yäve stared again.
Lina stared back with round, inquisitive, dark yellow eyes, and again began to sing. "Let me help you!
Let me help you! I have known this land for years: you are in Mordor, and if I don't help you, you will be
close to tears... before the end of the DAY!"
"Mordor?" she repeated timidly after Lina had finished.
"Yes, Mordor... don't say you haven't heard of it. Mordor... the wasteland of death and shit. Mordor...
the home of Sauron the git..."
"Er, how did you end up in this place?" the scone asked, and soon wished she hadn't. At once, Lina
became sad and sorrowful. Her elegant, yellow grass tip of a head drooped.
"I will not speak of what has befallen such a cheerful grass blade, such a cheerful grass blade..." Lina
sang tragically. Kemen Yäve looked up at her with sympathy, and slight confusion. Suddenly Lina
straightened up and burst into a joyful melody.
"But that has all gone - the evil, the torture, the countless years of pain! For I am free, now... I have
escaped from the field I once knew, the place I grew up in alone... That is all I shall say... for now.
"I have spoken for longer than I planned, we must leave this empty land. Now, where do you wish to go?
We must leave before the snow. Winter is ever near, and it's the cold that I fear. Come, follow my song, and
we shall run north to Morannon! Or maybe you'd prefer the air to be of cleaner smell? Then let us journey
west to Rivendell! Or Lothlórien, if your heart is clear, and then perhaps to Mirrormere? I can take you
wherever you wish to go, but let us leave before the snow!"
This was a lot of information for a mere scone to take in, and Kemen Yäve's eyes shined with delight at
the prospect of adventure. "Of course, let us leave!" she cried. "If I am forced to stay here for yet another
month I shall eat myself! My friend, tell me more of Middle Earth."
And so the two bounced merrily along the grey plains of Mordor, talking and listening to tales of old.
Their clear song and laughter shook the black mountains and, although they did not know it, the sound of
their presence was heard by many.
After a few weeks, they were within sight of Cirith Ungol. One night they were lying on their backs,
staring up at the stars and talking about Mordor and the sense of foreboding Lina was feeling. Lina told
Kemen Yäve about how she sang to Sauron last year during her annual journey away from Mordor, just
before Winter arrived. She described him as a merry fellow, who took care not to step on her. However, she
sang, since four months ago, roughly the time Kemen Yäve was created, Lina had been careful to avoid him
during her roaming around Mordor. She sang that he had left his little cottage surrounded by rose bushes and
his pet chickens, and had somehow managed to begin to build himself what seemed would eventually be a
fortress of great size. Three weeks ago, not long after leaving the place where the two companions had met,
the scone had looked upon the half finished tower of Barad Dûr with interest when Lina quietly pointed it out
to her in a rather grim sonnet. They were very glad that they were walking in the opposite direction.
After discussing Sauron and his possible plans, the conversation drifted towards what they would do
once out of Mordor. It seemed that they would pass Cirith Ungol in just a few days, yet they still had not
decided where to go from there.
"I wish to go to that place you spoke of yesterday, Lina. What was it called... was it Moria?"
"Ah, yes," sang Lina, "Moria. I think you would enjoy exploring that place. The caverns, the grandness,
all made to impress. But I may be wrong - I have never been to Moria before, yet I heard tales, long ago when
I was young. Just an innocent shoot in the field... " A wistful look came into Lina's eyes. "Alas, I shall never
journey that far away from Mordor; Mordor is the only place for me... so I expect you shall one day have to
return and tell me all about Moria."
"What?" said Kemen Yäve in surprise. "You aren't coming with me to Moria?"
"Oh, no! It is much too far! I could not possibly..."
"But..." the scone protested, beginning to panic. "But you say Rivendell is even further north than Moria;
will you not go there either?"
Lina laughed. "Of course not, my dear scone! I must return to Mordor before the spring. I could not
possibly journey to any place farther away than Fangorn forest! How would I get back to Mordor in time?"
Lina gracefully shook her head, laughing softly. All was silent for a moment while Kemen Yäve sat,
deep in thought.
"Lina," she began quietly. "Will you not tell me your story?"
"I have told you many stories already. We must rest soon if we wish to visit Gondor for twenty days, as
you wish."
"I need you not to tell me more stories of Middle Earth. But I would like it muchly if you could tell me
why you need to return to Mordor before the Spring, as you so often say."
"Ah, that is a long tale filled with much sadness, I am afraid." Lina bowed her head. "Are you sure you
wish to hear it?"
"Of course!" Kemen Yäve looked up at Lina eagerly.
"Eh, very well then." Lina spoke softly, looking up at the stars while she pondered how to tell the story.
"I shall tell it to you without a song; I have no doubt that you have grown tired of my endless melodies."
The scone shook her body (as she had no head) in denial. "Why would you suggest such a thing?"
"Many beings are easily irritated by my songs; grass blades, dandelions, ice buns... they're usually
bloody terrified when I start to sing. I don't suppose anyone has ever met a singing grass blade. But my
singing never used to cause a problem. It all began with my blade colour. You see, I am not nearly as green as
normal grass. In fact, I'm positively yellow. That is what set me apart as a young shoot, and that is why the
other shoots teased me. So I began to sing. I discovered I could sing very well, so I sang some more. Soon, I
had a song for everything, from sonnets about the sky to normal everyday conversation... not that I conversed
much with other beings: I was usually just singing to myself. In a dark corner. Beneath a rock, perhaps.
"Anyway, one day I was singing in an empty puddle of mud, (since all the grass blades had run away
from me, as usual) when out of nowhere came one of my aunties. She told me that I would have to leave, since
I seemed intent on singing day in, day out. Apparently it was causing quite a problem, as whenever I arrived
in a field all the grass blades within the field wanted to evacuate, and many of them die in the struggle to get
away from me...
"So I was banished from all the fields of Middle Earth. I was told I would have to spend the rest of my
life in Mordor, where nothing grows... Of course, I am allowed back to other places when winter comes, and
it's a good thing too; the winter in Mordor is harsher than winter in any other land.
"I visit Gondor, usually, where I can warm myself by people's fires. But I have to make sure I get back to
Mordor before Spring, as that's when all the plants are reborn again. I still do not mix well with other grass
blades - not when I am known throughout Middle Earth as a Disturber of the Peace." Lina hung her grass tip
sadly.
Kemen Yäve stared speechless at Lina, disbelieving that any beings could be so cruel.
"That's terrible, Lina... so you spend most of your year here? In Mordor?"
"Well, yes, it's the only way I could possibly be allowed to- "
A piercing shriek rang through Mordor, startling Lina into silence. The two companions looked up at the
sky in surprise as what seemed to be a bird flew high above their heads. But it was too large for a bird. As it
passed over them, it slowed down, and they lay still in the shadows, hoping not to be seen or heard. They
were lucky; the creature passed over them without further delay.
"What was that?" the scone asked quietly.
"That was a creature I have heard several times during our journey, and I am sure it has heard us as well.
We must be careful when we pass the border of Mordor... we would not like it if we were to get squishayed."
"Squishayed?"
Lina nodded, and straightened up, falling asleep.