DISCLAIMER:
I own myself, everything else belong to Tolkien. Based on The Fellowship of the Ring.
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
I got bitten by a plotbunny on a Sunday afternoon. This is the form of rabies it transmitted.
This is just thoughts of a lonely old Barrow-wight. He was insulted by the fact that the movies left him out, and granted me an interview, telling his own point of view on one of the famous events of the Middle Earth history. You want to know why he was around? Oh, when Tom Bombadil told him to go "into the barren lands beyond the mountains" to be "lost and forgotten until the world is mended" he just went here. Now he is known as Barry White, and owns a small jewelry shop on the outskirts of one big old American city. UNINVITED GUESTSIt was a nice autumn day, and I was trying to tidy up my home for the winter. There were so many things that needed to be done, like cleaning jewelry that had darkened with age, throwing away old clothing I have no use for, like that cloak draped over the bed – the rats bit holes through it. My old joints ache, and I can't chase them away anymore. They learned not to be afraid of me… Pesky creatures, aren't they?
Oh, forgive me for drifting away… Old age does that to you, you know… Just as I got to polishing my favorite anklet, horrible shrill voice blabbering the most disgusting rhymes I heard in my long, long life disturbed the pleasant quiet of the foggy afternoon. I haven't seen outsiders in these lands for years, why would someone come around in such a nasty day? The sun was far too bright in the morning, and now the wind is way too strong for comfort. Despite the weather, I decided to check who they are and what they want. I remembered that once when I was in a far northern chamber, there was a similar noise. I ignored it, but when I finally decided to check what was going on, nasty thieves got their dirty little hands on my favorite collection of spears. Thankfully, there still was some strength in my old arms, and those spears they did not grab yet pinned them to the walls. But be they but a little quicker…
So I decided to check the source of noise. I saw the most peculiar scene: four curly-haired boys, alone, without any adult supervision, in the middle of nowhere. Don't you hate it when boys run around all by themselves and break windows with their stupid games? I would like a serious talk with their fathers! And what are they doing? Eating! Eating and throwing their trash all around my favorite lawn!
'How dare they, insolent rascals!' I thought, and decided to teach them a lesson.
I just wanted to scare them away, I was tired of all that killing. I have been here since the time Balan led our people to the mountains in the West, and for all those millennia people invented nothing but new ways to kill each other. Just to think, I got to sit around in that moldy old barrow-down for accidentally shooting my cousin. No one would punish me with eternity for that now… The first few millennia were peaceful, but when those nasty Dúnedain returned, they dug up my old home to stuff it with their own dead! And they were sincerely surprised when number of their dead increased dramatically the night after that!
Oh yes, I was talking about those boys… forgive the old tired Barrow-wight for his ever-decreasing attention span… So I got outside, for the nasty sun has hid already – we undead don't like it, and they haven't invented sunblock back then – and shooed them away. Stupid pests got scared, and started screaming. My eardrums nearly ruptured! They were just running around in circles and screaming, driving me crazy. So I got my trusty moldy rag – it is very effective for knocking mortals out cold, and soon four boys lay in the center of the main chamber. I saw then that they were not really boys – they had weird haired legs, and seemed more like adults in proportion of their bodies. Most curious creatures. I decided they would be quite an improvement for the interior design of my main hallway, and I was trying to find the best way to arrange them. I was very lonely – there were no other Barrow-wights, and I wanted something human-like to give semblance of life to the halls. Humming a nice old song, I started imagining how different arrangements would look. I got so distracted by my thoughts that I didn't see one of the little buggers wake up. He screamed a disgusting rhyme so loudly, that I could only cover my ears and writhe on the floor in terrible pain. Nasty creature used my momentary weakness and cut off one of my hands, outstretched in pain.
It was only a beginning. He called my nastiest and most annoying neighbor, Tom, and together they started singing more of their gibberish. I could only pray to anyone, be it Éru, Valar, Morgoth, or Sauron, to save me. Surprisingly, I got an answer. The voice said that I could go somewhere none of them could ever follow. I happily agreed, and here I am.
THE END.
