"Dad? I know this is highly irregular - yes, I know those are weird words, but our lit.
profess - no. No, I know. Daddy, please, I know it's weird, but please can you come to the mall?
Yes, the mall. Now. No, right now. Please, Daddy; it's an emergency. I can't explain it right now,
I just really, really need you to come. Thanks, Daddy; you're the best. I love you too. Bye."
Hanging up the payphone, Sivi looked at Andrea and Legolas, the latter of whom was staring
at the phone with an immensely intent expression. Though he had not told the two girls, he had
committed to memory the number that Sivi had dialed. Those numbers were apparently a simple spell
that would allow him to speak with Sivi's father whenever he needed to do so. Legolas wondered if
they would teach him how to communicate with his own father Thranduil.
"Daddy's on his way," Sivi announced in a tone of relief.
"Why do we need your Dad here?" Andrea asked. She was rather of the opinion that a parent on
the scene would only ruin any fun the girls might have with the Pretty One. I.E. "Elves don't eat
Japanese food.", or "Don't make him wear that leather jacket.", or "Do NOT highlight his
hair!" She also retained the stubborn feeling that Legolas was her elf, her secret. Sivi glared
at Andrea.
"Alors, nous ne pouvons pas aider le lutin en les chambres de vetements," she told Andrea
pointedly. She didn't know the word for "dressing rooms," but "rooms of clothes," seemed close
enough.
"I told you, I don't know what a 'lutin' is," Andrea said.
"Le lutin est le..." Sivi thought hard. "Il est ici. Il est le fils d'un roi et reine, le
prince." She made her accent as oddly French as possible so that Legolas would not catch the
word "prince."
"Oh, you mean..." Andrea's eyes strayed to Legolas, who had decided over an hour earlier
that the girls were harmless, and if they wanted to speak in odd tongues, more power to them.
(Though I am sure his phrasing was a bit different). He had meandered over to examine the
payphone. A meandering elf is an interesting spectacle.
"Qu'est-ce que fait-il?" Andrea asked softly. ("What's he doing?")
Legolas picked up the receiver and looked at it.
"Oh, let him fiddle with it," Sivi whispered. "He's not hurting anything."
Then, Legolas did a strange thing. He began to dial.
"Um... Lego..." Andrea said, but he did not appear to be listening. The girls watched in
half-amusement, half-amazement as Legolas Greenleaf dialed 1-800-COLLECT and paused. Then he
dialed a phone number. Not Sivi's Dad's cell-phone number, but a phone number he seemed to be
making up out of his head. He put the receiver to his long ear, and waited...
"Lady Galadriel! Lady Galadriel!" cried a young elf-maiden, running like dark-haired
lightning up the spiral staircase around the great tree at Caras Galadon.
"Calmly, softly, child," said the beautiful Lady of Light, coming to meet the girl halfway.
Out of breath, the maiden gasped,
"Your mirror is ringing."
"What?"
"The Mirror of Galadriel rings!"
"I will go and see this thing," Galadriel said, curious.
It was rather a long walk to the sheltered clearing where the mirror stood, but when
Galadriel had descended the grey stone steps, the mirror was indeed still ringing loudly.
Intrigued, Galadriel gazed searchingly into the silver basin, but the clear water was blank.
"I am come," she said hesitantly. A pleasant voice spoke from within the waters:
"Will you accept billing charges for a collect call from 'Legolas Greenleaf'?"
Steeling herself against the unknown, Galadriel said evenly,
"I will."
The waters shimmered and rippled into a vision of Legolas of Eryn Lasgalen holding to his
ear a strange device.
"My lady?" he said, speaking into the lower half of the contraption.
"Prince Legolas... I am not certain I understand," Galadriel replied.
"Whoa, did he actually call somebody?" said one of two young human women standing behind the
elf-prince.
"It would appear so," replied the other.
"I hope he didn't, like, call Palestine or anything," said the first girl in a nervous
giggle. "If he just called Yasser Arafat 'my lady', we're in big trouble."
Legolas gave the girls a look of confusion, then turned back to the metal box hanging on
the wall. From the box, a silver rope that was not hithlain attached itself and the box to an
odd-shaped black stick in Legolas' hand. Galadriel was utterly bewildered.
"My lady, I have somehow been transported to a world not at all like ours," Legolas
explained hesitantly. "Can you, will you, send word to my father that I am safe but cannot yet
return to him?"
"I will indeed," agreed Galadriel, "but when you are safely returned to us, you must tell me
how this summons is accomplished."
"I would tell you now if only I knew myself, Lady Galadriel," Legolas replied.
"Galadriel?" cried the girl who had earlier been worried about 'Yasser Arafat.' "May I talk
to her? Oooo, lemme talk, lemme talk, lemme -"
"Ah, my lady, my friend Andrea wishes to hold discourse with you."
"I will speak with her then," Galadriel replied.
The girl called Andrea grabbed the stick from Legolas and pressed it to her ear.
"Lady Galadriel?" she said hopefully.
"I am pleased to know you, young Andrea," Galadriel said regally. Andrea proceeded to squeal
loudly in the elf-queen's snow-white ear. She whirled to look at the other girl.
"Sivi! Sivi! I'm on the phone with Galadriel!" she cried, hopping up and down.
"That's wonderful, Andrea," the one called Sivi, apparently slightly older than Andrea, said
with a small smile. "Perhaps you should talk to her."
"Oh, yeah, um," and Andrea turned back to the box, "um, it's nice to know you, too," she
said shyly. "Hey, do you have any idea how the Pretty One got here?"
Galadriel saw Legolas cringe. Confused, the queen asked,
"The Pretty One?"
"Oh, I mean Legolas," Andrea explained brightly.
"I... am afraid I do not," Galadriel told the girl, liking Andrea's unpretentious attitude.
"Oh, so I don't guess you could send us some more pretty elves for Sivi?" Anna said
disappointedly. Legolas frowned, while Sivi choked.
"I can handle my own love life, thank you," she told Andrea harshly.
"If you require the services of my people, I will do my best to send them to your aid,"
Galadriel replied.
"Well, we don't exactly require their services, but, uh, if you could..." Andrea trailed off
sheepishly.
"I will do what I can," Galadriel promised.
"Um, thank you... uh, I'm running up your phone bill, so I guess I'd better go," Andrea said.
"Goodbye."
"Goodbye, young Andrea," said Galadriel, puzzled. She did not know what a 'phone bill' was,
and Andrea did not appear to be 'running' anywhere. Andrea placed the stick on a wide metal hook
on the face of the box. The image in the mirror faded away.
Galadriel shook her white-blonde tresses. Well, she had made the girl a promise. She must
set to work performing it.
"My lady?" said a timid voice from the stair-like steps leading down to the mirror's little
dell. Galadriel looked up to see the same black-haired maiden standing on the bank above her.
"Child, will you send for the brothers Rumil, Orophin, and Haldir who guard the northern
border? And... who here in Lorien is swift of foot? Tell them to make ready for a journey to
Eryn Lasgalen. If they may make the trek on horseback, so much the better. Say to my Lord
Celeborn that I would speak with him. Quickly!"
Haldir sighed and scanned the bright line of silver mallorn trunks. Another day with nothing
to report. Haldir preferred peace to war, of course, but he also preferred occupation to
inactivity. Especially when Rumil and Orophin were sparring.
"You're slipping," Rumil told his brother in Elvish.
"No, I saw it. Aiya! There is another," Orophin countered.
An elf knows he is bored, reflected Haldir, when he stoops to amusing himself by counting
squirrels.
Ignoring his siblings, Haldir turned his mind to his fiancée, Unoldiel. He was mainly
marrying her simply to keep his father happy. Oh, she was pretty enough, but she was... he did
not know the proper term. Had he been raised in the world of Sivi and Andrea, he would have
called her a ditz.
profess - no. No, I know. Daddy, please, I know it's weird, but please can you come to the mall?
Yes, the mall. Now. No, right now. Please, Daddy; it's an emergency. I can't explain it right now,
I just really, really need you to come. Thanks, Daddy; you're the best. I love you too. Bye."
Hanging up the payphone, Sivi looked at Andrea and Legolas, the latter of whom was staring
at the phone with an immensely intent expression. Though he had not told the two girls, he had
committed to memory the number that Sivi had dialed. Those numbers were apparently a simple spell
that would allow him to speak with Sivi's father whenever he needed to do so. Legolas wondered if
they would teach him how to communicate with his own father Thranduil.
"Daddy's on his way," Sivi announced in a tone of relief.
"Why do we need your Dad here?" Andrea asked. She was rather of the opinion that a parent on
the scene would only ruin any fun the girls might have with the Pretty One. I.E. "Elves don't eat
Japanese food.", or "Don't make him wear that leather jacket.", or "Do NOT highlight his
hair!" She also retained the stubborn feeling that Legolas was her elf, her secret. Sivi glared
at Andrea.
"Alors, nous ne pouvons pas aider le lutin en les chambres de vetements," she told Andrea
pointedly. She didn't know the word for "dressing rooms," but "rooms of clothes," seemed close
enough.
"I told you, I don't know what a 'lutin' is," Andrea said.
"Le lutin est le..." Sivi thought hard. "Il est ici. Il est le fils d'un roi et reine, le
prince." She made her accent as oddly French as possible so that Legolas would not catch the
word "prince."
"Oh, you mean..." Andrea's eyes strayed to Legolas, who had decided over an hour earlier
that the girls were harmless, and if they wanted to speak in odd tongues, more power to them.
(Though I am sure his phrasing was a bit different). He had meandered over to examine the
payphone. A meandering elf is an interesting spectacle.
"Qu'est-ce que fait-il?" Andrea asked softly. ("What's he doing?")
Legolas picked up the receiver and looked at it.
"Oh, let him fiddle with it," Sivi whispered. "He's not hurting anything."
Then, Legolas did a strange thing. He began to dial.
"Um... Lego..." Andrea said, but he did not appear to be listening. The girls watched in
half-amusement, half-amazement as Legolas Greenleaf dialed 1-800-COLLECT and paused. Then he
dialed a phone number. Not Sivi's Dad's cell-phone number, but a phone number he seemed to be
making up out of his head. He put the receiver to his long ear, and waited...
"Lady Galadriel! Lady Galadriel!" cried a young elf-maiden, running like dark-haired
lightning up the spiral staircase around the great tree at Caras Galadon.
"Calmly, softly, child," said the beautiful Lady of Light, coming to meet the girl halfway.
Out of breath, the maiden gasped,
"Your mirror is ringing."
"What?"
"The Mirror of Galadriel rings!"
"I will go and see this thing," Galadriel said, curious.
It was rather a long walk to the sheltered clearing where the mirror stood, but when
Galadriel had descended the grey stone steps, the mirror was indeed still ringing loudly.
Intrigued, Galadriel gazed searchingly into the silver basin, but the clear water was blank.
"I am come," she said hesitantly. A pleasant voice spoke from within the waters:
"Will you accept billing charges for a collect call from 'Legolas Greenleaf'?"
Steeling herself against the unknown, Galadriel said evenly,
"I will."
The waters shimmered and rippled into a vision of Legolas of Eryn Lasgalen holding to his
ear a strange device.
"My lady?" he said, speaking into the lower half of the contraption.
"Prince Legolas... I am not certain I understand," Galadriel replied.
"Whoa, did he actually call somebody?" said one of two young human women standing behind the
elf-prince.
"It would appear so," replied the other.
"I hope he didn't, like, call Palestine or anything," said the first girl in a nervous
giggle. "If he just called Yasser Arafat 'my lady', we're in big trouble."
Legolas gave the girls a look of confusion, then turned back to the metal box hanging on
the wall. From the box, a silver rope that was not hithlain attached itself and the box to an
odd-shaped black stick in Legolas' hand. Galadriel was utterly bewildered.
"My lady, I have somehow been transported to a world not at all like ours," Legolas
explained hesitantly. "Can you, will you, send word to my father that I am safe but cannot yet
return to him?"
"I will indeed," agreed Galadriel, "but when you are safely returned to us, you must tell me
how this summons is accomplished."
"I would tell you now if only I knew myself, Lady Galadriel," Legolas replied.
"Galadriel?" cried the girl who had earlier been worried about 'Yasser Arafat.' "May I talk
to her? Oooo, lemme talk, lemme talk, lemme -"
"Ah, my lady, my friend Andrea wishes to hold discourse with you."
"I will speak with her then," Galadriel replied.
The girl called Andrea grabbed the stick from Legolas and pressed it to her ear.
"Lady Galadriel?" she said hopefully.
"I am pleased to know you, young Andrea," Galadriel said regally. Andrea proceeded to squeal
loudly in the elf-queen's snow-white ear. She whirled to look at the other girl.
"Sivi! Sivi! I'm on the phone with Galadriel!" she cried, hopping up and down.
"That's wonderful, Andrea," the one called Sivi, apparently slightly older than Andrea, said
with a small smile. "Perhaps you should talk to her."
"Oh, yeah, um," and Andrea turned back to the box, "um, it's nice to know you, too," she
said shyly. "Hey, do you have any idea how the Pretty One got here?"
Galadriel saw Legolas cringe. Confused, the queen asked,
"The Pretty One?"
"Oh, I mean Legolas," Andrea explained brightly.
"I... am afraid I do not," Galadriel told the girl, liking Andrea's unpretentious attitude.
"Oh, so I don't guess you could send us some more pretty elves for Sivi?" Anna said
disappointedly. Legolas frowned, while Sivi choked.
"I can handle my own love life, thank you," she told Andrea harshly.
"If you require the services of my people, I will do my best to send them to your aid,"
Galadriel replied.
"Well, we don't exactly require their services, but, uh, if you could..." Andrea trailed off
sheepishly.
"I will do what I can," Galadriel promised.
"Um, thank you... uh, I'm running up your phone bill, so I guess I'd better go," Andrea said.
"Goodbye."
"Goodbye, young Andrea," said Galadriel, puzzled. She did not know what a 'phone bill' was,
and Andrea did not appear to be 'running' anywhere. Andrea placed the stick on a wide metal hook
on the face of the box. The image in the mirror faded away.
Galadriel shook her white-blonde tresses. Well, she had made the girl a promise. She must
set to work performing it.
"My lady?" said a timid voice from the stair-like steps leading down to the mirror's little
dell. Galadriel looked up to see the same black-haired maiden standing on the bank above her.
"Child, will you send for the brothers Rumil, Orophin, and Haldir who guard the northern
border? And... who here in Lorien is swift of foot? Tell them to make ready for a journey to
Eryn Lasgalen. If they may make the trek on horseback, so much the better. Say to my Lord
Celeborn that I would speak with him. Quickly!"
Haldir sighed and scanned the bright line of silver mallorn trunks. Another day with nothing
to report. Haldir preferred peace to war, of course, but he also preferred occupation to
inactivity. Especially when Rumil and Orophin were sparring.
"You're slipping," Rumil told his brother in Elvish.
"No, I saw it. Aiya! There is another," Orophin countered.
An elf knows he is bored, reflected Haldir, when he stoops to amusing himself by counting
squirrels.
Ignoring his siblings, Haldir turned his mind to his fiancée, Unoldiel. He was mainly
marrying her simply to keep his father happy. Oh, she was pretty enough, but she was... he did
not know the proper term. Had he been raised in the world of Sivi and Andrea, he would have
called her a ditz.