Disclaimer: Tolkien's, not mine.
A/N: I've been lazy, so bite me. I've added a nice snippet of Home Made Sindarin Poem into this one, though, with GRAMMAR and the funky symbols that I so often leave out, so be grateful. *laughs* Small, tiny filler update again...
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One Night Ago
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'Haldir?'
'Yes, my lady?'
'You do know that you're going along with them, don't you?'
'What?!'
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That day, and one annoyed Haldir later...
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Ren grumpily stamped alongside Diana, clutching a beaten piece of parchment and muttering darkly under her breath as she tried to write while walking. The girl had been speaking only in broken Sindarin for the past few minutes, so even the elves had given up trying to translate the gibberish that was coming out of her mouth and had left her be. Gildor, Galdor, Erestor and Glorfindel happily diverted their attentions to either the front or the end of the group as they not-very-merry company departed Lorien, while Haldir skulked in the shadows of the mallyrn, trying hard not to draw attention to his still green tinged self. Ren abruptly gave a cry of victory as she stabbed the parchment one last time.
'Yé! Deleb lambë!' [Quenya: Yes! Sindarin: Abominable language!]
The Elves turned and stared at her oddly, while her friends just took it in their stride. People bursting out into various languages, both existent and non-existent, was not uncommon. Several 'deseo matar [insert name here]' and Cantonese monologues could and would be carried out at random intervals, so Ren screaming madly in Elvish was not so big a deal. It became worrisome after a while, though, when she refused to speak English again.
'Degithon! DEGITHON!' [Sindarin: I will kill it! I will KILL it!]
Inez worriedly placed her palm on Ren's forehead. It burnt. Ren continued rambling, this time blabbering out bits of verse and "prose" in Elvish.
'Calë mornië hôl
i Ennor,
Asgor elagys i dôr,
U-nôrui araid uin doll menel.
Ai darthathon ned i hîth?
Ae u-pen hebi i innas an díheno
I methed-lond tafnen dan mín,
Neithol mín i galu-dyr,
Awarthol mín an peletha cuil.'
[Sindarin: Light darkness that veils
the earth
Violent storms that kill the land
Sunless days of dark sky
Who will wait for me in the mist?
If none harbour the will to forgive
The Last Path will be held against
us
Denying us the Blessed Lands
Leaving us to fading life.]
Now the Elves were beginning to look worried as well. Glorfindel turned to inquire her health, and the human turned to him with what could only be described as a maniacal gleam in her eye, waving the parchment about like a person gone mad. Which she, in retrospect, probably had.
'Anim MAE! MAE, trenaran le!' [Sindarin: I am FINE! FINE, I tell you!]
Haldir gave the game away by cackling evilly at that moment, wielding a bottle of rather potent miruvor. Sara pounced.
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One Big Headache Later....
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They were on their way to Mirkwood. Eryn Lasgalen. Greenwood. Taur-en-Ndaedelos. What-have-you. Yes. The large, big, intimidating dark wood filled with elves that were not as wise as they should have been, with Barrel-Riders and drunken butlers, dungeons and a general dislike for dwarves.
Oh, did I mention the huge, giant man eating spiders? Delightful.
Yes, they were on their way to Mirkwood. And they were not very happy about it, I warrant. Inez was not looking forward to the prospect for coming face to face with a 100 pound arachnid, and Ren was not sure as to whether she liked the thought of being regarded as that days after-dinner mint. Silei was not looking forward to getting lost in some forest with no drinking water or hunt, and Shu Wen did not like the idea of falling into a river that caused one to fall asleep and loose their memory. Yvonne did not want to end up in the dungeons, and the elves all did not like to think of their drunk cousin, Thranduil.
Fine, maybe Thranduil was not drunk all the time, but he was bad enough in the opinion of most of the other edheli.
Not to mention the fact that he had lots of pretty, shiny jewels.
Lots of them.
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Somewhere in the Not-So-Blessed Lands of Valinor
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The sky was gradually returning back to a slightly more normal colour, namely purple. It had flashed from pink to neon green, black, yellow, orange and emerald over the past few days, so the thought that it was slowly turning more to the blue side of the colour wheel was more than a little comforting to the more ignorant inhabitants of Aman. The amount of diamond dust and magical energy had also been slowly receding, and now one could actually wonder outside with only his or her standing on end. That was definitely an improvement from the time when Fingolfin stepped out of his House and came back with fish for hands. Ulmo had unhappily fixed that particular incident, but the poor elf was probably going to be off seafood for a while.
Ecthelion whimpered, hiding in a corner of the living area of the Gondolindrim household, clutching his sword tightly to him. His hair was still an unnatural shade of gold-silver, thanks to a bad ricochet of power that Elbereth accidentally sent from Taniquetil, and the lord of the Fountains had spent the better part of the last two days acting like a fidgety rabbit. That was, truthfully, better off than his lord Turgon, who was a rabbit, due to a slight overcharge on Yvanna's part. The valië had been most amused by the sight, and Aulë, thankful for the distraction, had decided to keep Turgon in his "reincarnated" form until his wife settled down. Needless to say, the Lord of Gondolin was not even faintly amused, but the fact that all he could do was twitch his snout and chew on carrots reduced his influence greatly.
Now Ecthelion was cowering because Ulmo had sent Osse ahead to tell him that he was coming over. Ecthelion had been rightfully traumatized to the point where he never wanted to see a valar or valiër for the next four Ages or so, so this did not go down with him. A strangled moan was wrenched from his throat as he heard the front door open softly.
Valar save him.
Or maybe not...