I promise a plot is somewhere in here. I'm just not quite sure where.
All hail Tolkien, writer of The Books, and dam the speling to hel.
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Susan felt herself slowly regain consciousness. The process was easy - the sharp jabbing pain in her spine told her that her consciousness was very anxious to get off the cold, hard surface that she was lying on. The room around her was as silent as a grave, and certainly seemed empty, except for Susan, whose eyes were still tightly shut.
She gave herself a few seconds to begin breathing slightly erratically. When there was no reaction, she gave what she thought was a wonderfully feminine moan. When there was still no reaction, she fluttered her eyelashes and rose slowly with the air of a princess awakened after a hundred years of slumber.
Then she blinked in disappointment upon realizing the room was indeed, very empty.
As she climbed to her feet, she realized just how a princess awakened after a hundred years of slumber really felt - her bones were screaming in protest to every slightest movement. Susan decided to stand very, very still.
The air itself was very, very still.
Susan frowned. Come to think of it, she wasn't entirely sure when she had fallen asleep, or what she was doing in this pitch black room with her mouth gagged and her hands tied. She didn't normally black out like this - or at least, even if she did black out (it had only ever happened once or twice. Okay, every time the coach made her run more than one lap around the track on threat of death.), she could always be sure of waking up in the nicely lit sick bay.
Then the memories came rushing back at her. She had been singing, and enjoying it too, before some dwarf with lembas clamped around his ears came up and gave her a whack in the head with his axe. Susan pouted. She seemed to have an unnatural affinity with dwarves and their axes.
She tried to call out, but the gag effectively cut off her communicative systems. Even the room, it seemed, was made out of the Middle-earth version of titanium. Slumping back onto the floor, Susan gave a deep sigh.
If she could not sing to entertain herself, she would hum.
Or at least she would, if her bum was not, at that moment, trying to tell her that she had sat on something small and oblong.
---
In another part of Middle-earth, they were holding a council. 'They' being the Nine Walkers who had been chosen before Susan's untimely appearance in the other council, Elrond, Bilbo, Arwen, and - to the disgust of everyone else present - The Redeemers.
"Difficult. Very difficult." Gandalf was saying, his brow furrowed in a look of utmost concentration.
"I can't see how we're going to get around it." Bilbo sighed sagely.
"Nine! The number was nine! Nine walkers! Nine!" Elrond was having what an uninformed observer would have called a childish fit. Elrond was, however, a very old, very wise half elven lord, and as such did not throw childish fits. Only fits brought about by the consumption of large amounts of wine.
The rest of the council stared at their feet, unsure of what to do. The situation was this: Susan had fallen from the sky, yea and verily, as we all know. The tricky part was this: Just as Susan had landed right smack in front of the Nine Walkers, Elrond had declared them the Fellowship of the Ring.
This presented everyone present with a certain degree of difficulty.
For Arwen, it was that she didn't want any shameless hussy gamboling about Middle-earth with her husband-to-be.
For Aragorn, it was that he didn't want any shameless hussy gamboling about Middle-earth when he was trying to save it and fulfill his destiny while doing so.
For Bilbo, it was that he didn't want any shameless hussy gamboling about Middle-earth when Frodo was still very much the innocent hobbit. Okay, so Frodo had thus far been stabbed, driven through the wild and accosted by very frisky ringwraiths, but as far as this uncle was concerned, no nephew of his would be subjected to the horrors of a teenage girl while he still had the use of his finely furry feet.
For Boromir, it was that he didn't want to be seen in the general vicinity of any shameless hussy at all, because they generally only had bad things to say about his hygiene, and he happened to like his dinner plate shield, thank you very much.
For Frodo, it was that he didn't want any shameless hussy trying to steal the One Ring.
For Sam, it was that he didn't want any shameless hussy trying to rob Frodo of his One Ring, and virginity besides.
For Merry, it was that he didn't want any shameless hussy trying to get at the food.
For Pippin, it was that he didn't want any shameless hussy. Period.
For Gimli, it was that he didn't want any shameless hussy distracting him while he was knocking the heads off orcs.
For Gandalf, it was that he didn't want any shameless hussy running around because he would then have to expand large amounts of energy trying to keep her from sending Middle-earth to its doom when he was supposed to be spending more time being very wise, knowledgeable and annoyingly cryptic.
For Legolas, it was that he had had quite enough of shameless hussies, particularly the ones that insisted on singing to him, and he was damned if he was going to go on some mission with a shameless hussy trying to rip off his pants.
For The Redeemers, it was that everyone refused to stop calling their Salvation and Hope a shameless hussy, and that everyone just sat and laughed at their suggestion that if the Saviour were only given the One Ring, she would do something miraculous and Middle-earth would be saved, as it was what saviours normally went about doing, stop laughing, will you?
For Elrond, it was that he had announced that the shameless hussy was part of the Fellowship of the Ring, and everyone knew his announcements were irrevocable and for the sake of the plot, he was going to have to make sure this particular announcement was carried out. If only he hadn't been preoccupied with trying to make his eyebrows arch the right way, he would've seen Susan before she had landed on the ground and he would have kept his lips tightly pressed together in a way that suggested that he was not amused.
With a deep sigh, Elrond folded his hands together and arched his eyebrows. The rest of the council took this as a sign that he had made up his mind. They waited with bated breath.
"Bring forth the human." Elrond said. His aides looked at him blankly. "The thing that fell from the sky." He hissed. Their eyes filled with comprehension (or perhaps tears) and they marched off reluctantly, only to return a few minutes later with a strangely docile Susan. She was staring at something she held in her hands. Elrond cleared his throat to catch her attention. She gazed at him with eyes which were glazed over in what seemed to be an attempt at looking alluring. He shuddered.
"It is the will of the council that you be part of the Fellowship of the Ring." He shouted above the roars of objection. "SO I HAVE SPOKEN! SO SHALL IT BE!"
And then he left the chaos behind him in search of some really potent wine.
All hail Tolkien, writer of The Books, and dam the speling to hel.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------
Susan felt herself slowly regain consciousness. The process was easy - the sharp jabbing pain in her spine told her that her consciousness was very anxious to get off the cold, hard surface that she was lying on. The room around her was as silent as a grave, and certainly seemed empty, except for Susan, whose eyes were still tightly shut.
She gave herself a few seconds to begin breathing slightly erratically. When there was no reaction, she gave what she thought was a wonderfully feminine moan. When there was still no reaction, she fluttered her eyelashes and rose slowly with the air of a princess awakened after a hundred years of slumber.
Then she blinked in disappointment upon realizing the room was indeed, very empty.
As she climbed to her feet, she realized just how a princess awakened after a hundred years of slumber really felt - her bones were screaming in protest to every slightest movement. Susan decided to stand very, very still.
The air itself was very, very still.
Susan frowned. Come to think of it, she wasn't entirely sure when she had fallen asleep, or what she was doing in this pitch black room with her mouth gagged and her hands tied. She didn't normally black out like this - or at least, even if she did black out (it had only ever happened once or twice. Okay, every time the coach made her run more than one lap around the track on threat of death.), she could always be sure of waking up in the nicely lit sick bay.
Then the memories came rushing back at her. She had been singing, and enjoying it too, before some dwarf with lembas clamped around his ears came up and gave her a whack in the head with his axe. Susan pouted. She seemed to have an unnatural affinity with dwarves and their axes.
She tried to call out, but the gag effectively cut off her communicative systems. Even the room, it seemed, was made out of the Middle-earth version of titanium. Slumping back onto the floor, Susan gave a deep sigh.
If she could not sing to entertain herself, she would hum.
Or at least she would, if her bum was not, at that moment, trying to tell her that she had sat on something small and oblong.
---
In another part of Middle-earth, they were holding a council. 'They' being the Nine Walkers who had been chosen before Susan's untimely appearance in the other council, Elrond, Bilbo, Arwen, and - to the disgust of everyone else present - The Redeemers.
"Difficult. Very difficult." Gandalf was saying, his brow furrowed in a look of utmost concentration.
"I can't see how we're going to get around it." Bilbo sighed sagely.
"Nine! The number was nine! Nine walkers! Nine!" Elrond was having what an uninformed observer would have called a childish fit. Elrond was, however, a very old, very wise half elven lord, and as such did not throw childish fits. Only fits brought about by the consumption of large amounts of wine.
The rest of the council stared at their feet, unsure of what to do. The situation was this: Susan had fallen from the sky, yea and verily, as we all know. The tricky part was this: Just as Susan had landed right smack in front of the Nine Walkers, Elrond had declared them the Fellowship of the Ring.
This presented everyone present with a certain degree of difficulty.
For Arwen, it was that she didn't want any shameless hussy gamboling about Middle-earth with her husband-to-be.
For Aragorn, it was that he didn't want any shameless hussy gamboling about Middle-earth when he was trying to save it and fulfill his destiny while doing so.
For Bilbo, it was that he didn't want any shameless hussy gamboling about Middle-earth when Frodo was still very much the innocent hobbit. Okay, so Frodo had thus far been stabbed, driven through the wild and accosted by very frisky ringwraiths, but as far as this uncle was concerned, no nephew of his would be subjected to the horrors of a teenage girl while he still had the use of his finely furry feet.
For Boromir, it was that he didn't want to be seen in the general vicinity of any shameless hussy at all, because they generally only had bad things to say about his hygiene, and he happened to like his dinner plate shield, thank you very much.
For Frodo, it was that he didn't want any shameless hussy trying to steal the One Ring.
For Sam, it was that he didn't want any shameless hussy trying to rob Frodo of his One Ring, and virginity besides.
For Merry, it was that he didn't want any shameless hussy trying to get at the food.
For Pippin, it was that he didn't want any shameless hussy. Period.
For Gimli, it was that he didn't want any shameless hussy distracting him while he was knocking the heads off orcs.
For Gandalf, it was that he didn't want any shameless hussy running around because he would then have to expand large amounts of energy trying to keep her from sending Middle-earth to its doom when he was supposed to be spending more time being very wise, knowledgeable and annoyingly cryptic.
For Legolas, it was that he had had quite enough of shameless hussies, particularly the ones that insisted on singing to him, and he was damned if he was going to go on some mission with a shameless hussy trying to rip off his pants.
For The Redeemers, it was that everyone refused to stop calling their Salvation and Hope a shameless hussy, and that everyone just sat and laughed at their suggestion that if the Saviour were only given the One Ring, she would do something miraculous and Middle-earth would be saved, as it was what saviours normally went about doing, stop laughing, will you?
For Elrond, it was that he had announced that the shameless hussy was part of the Fellowship of the Ring, and everyone knew his announcements were irrevocable and for the sake of the plot, he was going to have to make sure this particular announcement was carried out. If only he hadn't been preoccupied with trying to make his eyebrows arch the right way, he would've seen Susan before she had landed on the ground and he would have kept his lips tightly pressed together in a way that suggested that he was not amused.
With a deep sigh, Elrond folded his hands together and arched his eyebrows. The rest of the council took this as a sign that he had made up his mind. They waited with bated breath.
"Bring forth the human." Elrond said. His aides looked at him blankly. "The thing that fell from the sky." He hissed. Their eyes filled with comprehension (or perhaps tears) and they marched off reluctantly, only to return a few minutes later with a strangely docile Susan. She was staring at something she held in her hands. Elrond cleared his throat to catch her attention. She gazed at him with eyes which were glazed over in what seemed to be an attempt at looking alluring. He shuddered.
"It is the will of the council that you be part of the Fellowship of the Ring." He shouted above the roars of objection. "SO I HAVE SPOKEN! SO SHALL IT BE!"
And then he left the chaos behind him in search of some really potent wine.