The True Tournament
By Leafy Rose
Rating: PG-13 for violence, bad attitudes, and tense situations.
Disclaimer: I own nothing Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter.
For all writer's disclaimers and quill scribblings, see the opening bit of the opening chapter.
Thanks for the great reviews, everyone! ::big smile::
Dagger of the Mind: Thanks for the review, and the compliment as well. :o) I'm going to try to make this story lighter fare (like Monstrous), so hopefully, it will continue to be funny. Thanks again!
Andie: Thanks for the review! I'm glad you like this so far. Thanks for the compliments. I hope you like this new part. :o)
Newmoon: Thanks! I hope you like it! :o)
Elfchick123: Thanks for the review! ::smile::
Nuola: Thanks for the review! Hehe, sorry it took me so long to update. I'm going to start being quicker about it.
Window Girl: Thanks for the review. Wait til you see what happens after the fellowship reacts ::wink::.
Jack4: Hehe, thanks. I hope you like this story!
Mariana Nimeneth: ::gratefully takes ice cream:: Thanks a lot! This'll tide us over! Thanks for the review! In order not to make any readers think I'm biased ::blinks innocently::, I won't reveal which text I prefer. :o) I'm glad to have your opinion, though. Thanks again!
Star-Stallion: Happy belated 14th birthday! Thanks for the review! I hope you like this story. :o)
Onward!
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Chapter 2
"A Mere Formality"
"Do you have any idea how absurd this sounds?" Gimli exclaimed, looking with wide eyes at Dumbledore, who had been doing most of the talking thus far. "Are you aware of the task that we are already attempting? Only to destroy the most nefarious, complete evil ever to exist in Middle-Earth!"
"We do know what you're doing," Dumbledore replied evenly. "And we respect it very much. Your task won't be hindered at all. The spell that summoned you here will, when you go back, put you back in the moment directly before you were brought here."
"We are going back, then?" Pippin's arrested gaze flicked from a snoozing Fawkes in his cage in the corner to Dumbledore before him. "Soon?"
"In your time, yes," Dumbledore nodded, smiling at the young hobbit.
"And in your time?" Aragorn came forward with a questioning look.
"About a week," Dumbledore replied.
"A week?" Gimli sounded ready to start barking out protest again, but for a combined quelling look from Gandalf and Aragorn. The dwarf pursed his lips. "And what will we be doing in the meantime?"
Dumbledore smiled again, though this beam held a bit more embarrassment, as if he was going to ask one of them to lend him some money.
"You will be helping us," Dumbledore paused, trying to find words that wouldn't be discouraging, "…solve…a debate. One that's been batted back and forth for centuries."
Aragorn frowned in utter confusion at this, turning around to see what Gandalf's reaction was. The wizard was leaning on his staff, gazing emotionlessly at the magical being in front of him. He didn't seem thrilled or chilled by the prospect.
"How?" Aragorn turned back to Dumbledore.
"For the answer to that, I believe a contract is in order," the old wizard nodded, encouraged by the fact that none of them, not even the dwarf, had observably found this offer rejectable.
Dumbledore pulled his wand out again, holding it level with his elbow, drawing it in a crescent shape through the air. A piece of parchment materialized in the air with his stroke, hovering for an instant, then drifting to the seat of the stool in front of him.
"Escribe!" Dumbledore cried, and his wand slid out of his hand, moving to float in the air over the parchment, bobbing up and down expectantly. Dumbledore looked up with a smile again, noticing the expressions on the faces of the guests. The hobbits looked stunned but fascinated, one of the men impressed but distrustful, the dwarf, annoyed, and the Elf and the man who had come first looked mildly nonplussed by the wand. The wizard with the sturdy staff and the long grey beard to rival Dumbledore's had not changed his expression noticeably, though his eyes seemed to say "showoff".
"Right!" Dumbledore cleared his throat, turning to Mcgonagall and stepping back from the stool with the paper and the wand. "I don't believe I should keep the guests to myself any longer. Minerva, would you do the honors?" he gestured vaguely to the workspace.
The nine looked in unison at the witch, still standing in the corner, looking slightly pale from the shock of it actually working. She looked back at them with wide eyes for an instant, almost like a little girl standing at the edge of a lake that she would like to swim in, but was too afraid of drowning to swim. She didn't say a word, but Dumbledore left anyway.
With the click of the doorknob, Mcgonagall shook her head sharply, coming back to herself. With the air of addressing a class of first-years at their first Transfiguration lesson, she came forward, halting with the stool between her and the baffled crowd of Middle-Earth dwellers.
"Alright," she cleared her throat, looking at the thin writing that was already on the paper. "Will--will the Ringbearer please step forward?"
Aragorn, still at the front, turned to Frodo, behind him but looking between the taller ones at the scene before him.
"What do you want with him?" Sam spoke up next to Frodo, peering over Gimli's head to better meet Mcgonagall's eye.
Frodo turned his head to look at Sam, who quickly met his gaze. The Ringbearer smiled at him but shook his head vaguely. He looked up at Aragorn in indication, and the ranger moved to the side. Frodo moved forward, positioning himself in front of the stool. He looked up at Mcgonagall, swallowing nervously. He found her black pointed hat somewhat intimidating, as he had never seen one on a woman. It made her look quite tall.
Mcgonagall smiled accommodatingly.
"And what is your full name?" she said.
"Uhm…" Frodo began but stopped, for the wand in the air began to jerk about as he spoke. He looked from it to parchment, which also seemed to be changing as well. On a line near the top of the page, thin ink writing appeared in concurrence with the movements of the wand. So far, the line read "Um".
"No, no!" Mcgonagall spoke sharply, and for a scary instant Frodo thought she was scolding him, but she was looking only at the parchment.
The wand continued moving, and the writing disappeared backwards through its trail, until the line was blank again. She looked back at Frodo, maintaining her smile.
"Just your full name and title, please," she said softly. "The wand can't tell the difference."
Frodo shut his mouth, nodding as if he understood. He opened his mouth again, looking from the wand to the parchment.
"F-Frodo Baggins…son of Drogo Baggins," he spoke loudly, wobbly on the first sound and continuing shakily. His words became mirrored on the line, "Frodo Baggins, son of Drogo Baggins."
"Thank you," Mcgonagall continued civilly, looking over Frodo's shoulder at the others. "The Ringbearer's companion?"
Frodo stepped back and Sam stepped forward, gazing at the wiggling wand as if it were a sword suspended by a hair from the ceiling.
"Please--," Mcgonagall began.
"Samwise Gamgee, son of Hamfast Gamgee," he said hurriedly. The wand scribbled wildly to keep up.
"Good," Mcgonagall replied after a pause, clearing her throat. "The hobbits, Merry and Pippin?"
The remaining two hobbits stepped forward, Merry a few inches in front of Pippin.
"Meriadoc Brandybuck, son of Saradoc Brandybuck," he spoke clearly and confidently as the wand curved through the air.
Mcgonagall nodded, her eyes shifting now to Pippin, who quailed slightly for an instant, then stood up straighter and cleared his throat.
"Peregrin Took, son of Paladin Took II," he said.
"Very good, thank you," Mcgonagall said, then looked in indication at Aragorn, and at Boromir beside him.
The men stepped forward.
"My, what a lot of procession," Gimli mumbled under his breath.
**********
"…tasks that may cause bodily harm in the happening. But if this is the case, the wounds will be seen to as soon as the round is over, in the name of fair play."
Frodo shook his head in bewilderment at the lines he was reading. Before they had been excused from the office, ushered into a lonely stone wing of the palace, Mcgonagall had produced a replica of the paper they'd signed, out of thin air, suggesting that they might like to read it, so they'd know what would be happening, starting tomorrow.
"Fair, I suppose, but I hardly approve of the use of the word 'play' here," Gimli snorted. "It sounds as if this is some sort of holiday."
"Perhaps they mean it to be one," Legolas spoke up from where he stood by the wall, looking out the slender window at the blue night sky and the two owls that soared easily to and fro about the grounds.
"Not if their description of this game is any indication," Aragorn responded. He was sitting in a chair in the corner, his hand placed lightly over his eyes. "Even if they call it a game."
"And they don't give us much more information than that," Frodo mumbled, pulling the next portion of the parchment up before his eyes. "They merely throw in these terms--'game', 'round', 'points'…"
"For goodness sake, Aragorn, let us show some dissent," Gimli grumbled, coming to stand beside the man. "This is a waste of time!"
"And what shall we say?" Aragorn looked up at the dwarf. "That we'd like to go home? They brought us here, and they are the only ones who can send us back."
"But--," Gimli faltered, turning in confusion to the wizard, "but, surely, Gandalf--,"
"I'm afraid that I can't," Gandalf said softly. "The magic that the wizard Dumbledore draws power from is a kind that I've never seen before."
"Evil?" Frodo immediately piped up.
"No," Gandalf shook his head. "Completely benign. However, it would take much time for me to sort out how to reverse the spell."
"And by then, they may be done with us," Aragorn finished.
"'Done with us'," Sam shuddered from the tattered armchair he was sitting on the edge of. "I don't like the sound of that."
~~~End of Part 2~~~
Author's Note: Sorry it took me so long to get this part up! I'll get the next part, Round 1, up next Sunday night. Count on it! :o)