Chapter 14—Unusual Occurances
We cheered and hugged each other, happy happy joy joy. Then we turned our attentions to our now-fellow members. Everyone else, including Gimli and Boromir, got hugs all around. Half of them looked like they instantly regretted their decision. I threw myself into Legolas's arms first, of course. It felt nice, throwing my arms around him. I wondered whether to push my luck and move in for a kiss (on the cheek of course), then decided to leave it be. I did kiss Gandalf and the hobbits, Gandalf because he reminded me so much of someone's grandfather, and the hobbits because they were just too cute. But I wasn't quite as enthusiastic with the Blues Brothers, if only because they didn't look like they'd appreciate it much. We were now part of the Fellowship!
The next day, I kept reminding myself: It's worth it because of Elf-boy, it's worthy because of Elf-boy. I was twice as sore when we stopped that night, because I was still sore from last night. I tried not to complain, because that would not help my standing much. So I tried to bear it in silence. Couldn't say the same thing for Ainaelda, though. She hadn't stopped to breathe since nightfall, muttering non-stop under her breath about how she had never been this sore in her life, not even when she was five and her sister pushed her down the stairs and broke her arm. Well, at least she wasn't saying it to the world. Only I could hear her, which, given the nature of what she was saying, was probably a good thing. Finally, as she unwound her hair from snagging twigs for the umpteenth time, she snapped. So did the offending twigs.
"I can't take it anymore, Vinya!" she yelled. She threw her pack down, yanked my dagger and, to the astonishment of all present onlookers, began to hack at her hair. I got out of my stunned state and gingerly walked up in front of her.
"Ainaelda?"
"No, just stay away. I always thought that having long hair would be the greatest. Well, it's hell, plain and simple. Just back away and let me do this! If it gets tangled in trees one more time, I'm going to go stark, raving mad! And at least yours is straight! This curly stuff? It just gets dirty and tangled to the nth degree!"
"Can I help you?"
"Please!" Using my minimal barber skills, I managed to get all off, albeit unevenly, to well above her shoulders. She heaved a sigh of relief when I was done.
"There. So much cooler. And lighter. Want me to do yours?" There was really only one answer to that when your friend is wielding your knife.
I was woken up the next morning by Ainaelda screaming like a woman possessed. She shook me by the shoulders and jammed a handful of sickeningly perfect ringlets in my face.
"It grew back!" she shrieked. "Our hair grew back!" I leapt up, horrified, and saw that it was true. Her hair and mine looked like they had this time yesterday: waist-length and untouched. So we repeated the process of cutting it short. Lo and behold, the next morning, it was back again.
This was more than I could take. Now I was the one acting deranged. I cut off Ainaelda's hair again, probably sloppier than was necessary, and my own, muttering over and over again, after each cut, "Stay off, stay off, stay off, dammit!"
The next day, it was just as short as it had been the night before. Peace reigned once more in the feminine side of the camp.
We traveled for weeks, and I was convinced I would never get used to the strain. But, ever so slightly, I did. So there's an upside: I gained a hell of a lot of lower body strength. We complained to each other anyway, if only because we were still in love with the pampered world of modern day America. As in, 'Why did I ever leave the world of shampoo?' and 'As soon as I get home, I'm going to hug my Advil and never let go.' We were ready to take an early break one day, as we had made good time earlier. Besides, I privately figured, Sauron wasn't going anywhere. He could just wait for us (or, more accurately, Frodo and Sam) to come to him. I collapsed on the white rocks, ready to catch up on some much-needed sleep. Something kept niggling in the corner of my mind, but I was too tired to care. I drifted off to sleep, listening to the crackle of the fire and the clash of swords as Boromir, Merry, and Pippin practiced swordplay… I sat bolt upright, just as Legolas made the following observation:
"Crebain from Dunland!" I knew it! I should have remembered that we were here! I rolled over and slapped Ainaelda. She was about to fall asleep, too, but she was still somewhat awake.
"Shit! Why didn't you tell me we were this far?" I shrugged and dove for cover.
"I've completely lost track of time, don't blame me. I only just remembered! And I kind of thought it would be like the book, when we're all asleep…" We rolled under a rock and cracked heads with Merry and Pippin. At the same time, we pushed our fingers to our mouths and said "Ssssh!" As I watched, the black birds flew over us, squawking and circling. From the limited vantage point that having your face smashed against a rock provides, I saw some of the others, and it was all too obvious the crebain could see us. But they wouldn't attack, I knew that. They'd just report back to Sauron, who'd try to bring the whole freaking Pass of freaking Caradhras down on us. After what seemed like an unbearable eternity, they left, and we all slowly got out, in case, you know, they decided to come back. I knew they wouldn't, so why was I so damn jumpy? Gandalf shook his head and squinted out after them.
"Spies from Sauron! Our passage south has been watched." I didn't understand this world at all. Sometimes it would be snippets from the movie, other times it would be book-based. Now it had switched back to movie. Would I ever get used to this? Wait a minute, what was I talking about? So, we set out for the Pass of Caradhras.
I hate cold. I can stand almost anything but cold. And mosquito bites. And boats. And Ainaleda's older sister. But let's concentrate on the cold. I'm not a winter person. But we had semi-warm clothes, so I was relatively happy. Relatively. Two days into it, Ainaelda and I submitted to the ultimate temptation; we made a snowman. It was a big snowman, as big as we could make it. The bottom snowball came up to my waist; the finished snowman was about a foot taller than I was. We thoroughly annoyed the Fellowship during the process; I don't think they liked how we treated it all like a game. But you can't be serious when you're making a snowman. Merry and Pippin chipped in too, helping to roll snowballs bigger than they were. Everyone else didn't seem to like it much. Heck to them.
"We should name it," said Ainaelda, whittling a piece of Merry's walking stick to a point, because of a lack of carrots, with my dagger.
"Definitely," I said, digging through the snow for some fist-sized rocks that would serve for buttons, or eyes, or something.
"Well, what do we name it? After something, or just a random name?" Ainaelda tested the point of the misshapen cone she had been carving and winced as she caught a splinter.
"I don't know; what do you want to name it?" I gave a little cry of surprise as I tripped over a hidden tree root and fell flat on my butt. In the snow. On an outcrop of rocks. So, I found my rocks, but now my butt was wet and cold. Ainaelda boosted Pippin up as he fixed the little wooden cone in the very center of the top snowball.
"There! There! I did it!" He cried, and tried to jump up and down. Except that it didn't quite work, so Ainaelda overbalanced and fell backwards. Into the snow. So now her butt was wet and cold too. Before any of us could make a move or a sound, I heard this deep bass laugh. A quick one, to be sure, but it was still there. I looked around. Gimli was laughing. Not laughing AT us. Actually laughing WITH us. He looked furious with himself, like he was actually making us feel like we belonged. I LIKED Gimli. Not like I like Legolas, but still, I think dwarves are cool. What was his problem? But he was gradually lightening up. We all laughed after that, the two hobbits, Ainaelda and I. Frodo and Sam smiled slightly, Legolas and Aragorn grinned, but didn't laugh, and Boromir still looked annoyed. What's new?
"I got it!" yelled Ainaelda, still on the ground, "When I fell, I thought of a really good name!"
"Great," I said, "what is it?" She looked excited and jumped up, brushing rapidly-melting snow off of herself. She danced around and shook me by the shoulders. "Ainaelda, two things: One, decaf. Two, what's you're brilliant name?" She smiled her cocky little smile.
"J.R.R." Well, I suppose that had a certain ring to it.
"Just that? No Tolkien?" Everyone looked at us curiously, like they were trying to remember something. Ainaelda shook her head.
"Nope. Just J.R.R." I nodded and stole Ainaelda's sword from her, gently tapping the snowman's 'shoulders', two misshapen sticks.
"I dub thee J.R.R. Serve honorably and well!" Ainaelda grinned and stole her sword back from me.
"Thanks. Can we call him Jay?" I closed my eyes and grimaced in mock pain.
"Do not profane his name so! But yeah, I think Jay sounds good." So, we both slept on either side of Jay the snowman that night, to the amusement of all. But later, as we said good-bye to Jay the next morning, Legolas confronted us both.
"Who is this J.R.R. Tolkien you named the…the…snow…after? I will swear unto my father that the name sounds terribly familiar." I snorted with laughter briefly. They thought they knew who J.R.R. Tolkien was? I wonder if all story characters thought that, you know, Tamora Pierce was the Goddess or something. I thought about how to answer this.
"He's a magician of the written word." I answered finally. Which was perfectly true. Legolas frowned, utterly confused, but we rushed past him and walked on before he could pursue further. I felt a little discomfort at what awaited us, because I was sure this was when we ran into Saruman's bad hair day. Then, predictably, Frodo tripped and lost the Ring. Boromir picked it up and said his 'Tis a strange fate' line, but I wasn't listening. Ainaelda's gaze was riveted on the Ring. She looked like Boromir did at the end of the movie. Was the Ring seducing her? What if she messed up the entire plot by going for the Ring? Especially before Boromir does. Oh, I knew we shouldn't have joined the Fellowship! Then, a moment later, Frodo took the Ring back, somewhat forcefully, and it was all over. Did I just imagine it? I hoped I just imagined it, because that was a complication we could all do without.
About two hours after we stopped for lunch, we hit the pass. The snow started, and I think walking on snow is a cultivated skill, because even though perfect Legolas was walking on the slim crust of snow like he was waltzing down a broad sidewalk, I sank about calf-deep and slogged along as best I could. Ainaelda wasn't much better off than I was, but at least we could sort of walk on the snow. I listened as hard as I could, waiting for Saruman and not really listening to the flow of conversation. Then, I heard it. Echoing around was a deep voice that could only belong to one person. I punched Ainaelda savagely.
"Listen! Guess who!" Her eyes widened with fear and she looked around, then up, waiting, quite literally, for lightning to strike. Then, Legolas stepped up.
"There is a fell voice on the air…" Thanks, Captain Obvious.
"IT'S SARUMAN!!" yelled Gandalf as shower of rocks fell. I covered my head. Did I mention that I hate cold? I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. Gandalf stood up with his staff. Yay, magic in action! Too bad nothing happened, as far as I could tell. Then the lightning struck. I leaned out, to see it better, then remembered that this would probably not be a good idea and flattened myself against the opposite rock wall. Just as the avalanche came down.
Something was on me, something that wasn't snow.
"Ainaelda?" I yelled, getting a mouthful of snow. I feebly spat it out and tried to flail around, dig myself out, but something was trapping my arms. Then, the weight was lifted off. It was Gimli, of all the weird people. When the snow fell, he had either been thrown against me or jumped without looking. We quickly sprang apart, and I looked around for Ainaelda. Where was she? Then we slapped into each other. It was complete confusion while they debated our next move. Since I already knew, I didn't listen, I just followed. I felt slightly sick. Why? Was it possibly the several tons of snow that had fallen on my head? Perhaps. Yeah, that was probably it. Concussions are no fun, and I speak from experience. P.E., seventh grade, soccer unit. I got whapped in the face with a mud-coated soccer ball while I was goalie.
I got a concussion. The other team still scored anyway.
But still, that had been four years ago. I hadn't experienced this dizziness in a long time, and I couldn't even laugh when the world switched back to book and Legolas said his 'I'm off to find the sun!' line. Actually, the last time I had dizziness remotely like this was the first time I took Vick's 44 Cough Syrup. 10% alcohol. That was interesting, I must say. Ainaelda must have noticed my less-than-perky state, because she sneaked in a supporting arm. When we finally got clear of the snowstorm, a few days later, I was still feeling rotten. I had dizzy spells, weakness, but no fever or anything. I felt queasy, but I hadn't thrown up. I ate, but I wasn't hungry, and I was never exactly full either. When we got to Moria, I was a little nervous. If I felt this way when we ran into the orcs, I was in deep trouble. So was everyone else, but chiefly me. I sat down wearily, feeling like I hadn't slept in months. The world reversed into movie, and Pippin picked up a rock. With a feeling of doom, Ainaelda and I watched. She punched me as he started to idly palm the stone.
"Vinya, we gotta stop him! You are not up to dealing with the Watcher, and that would just be a good thing, wouldn't it? We don't need to kill anything, no matter how many tentacles its got, right?"
"I always thought that the Watcher was a rip-off of a kraken…but who's counting?" Pippin put his arm back to throw.
"Vinya!" I sighed, beginning to feel panicky at the thought of fighting anything.
"What? Okay, what am I supposed to do, point and say Wingardium Leviosa?" As I demonstrated this, Pippin launched the stone over the water. It stopped dead, hanging in midair over the surface. We both stared, my arm still outstretched. Suddenly, my symptoms were gone. It was like I had never been sick in my life. Everyone stared at me. The rock still hung suspended. Ainaelda gave a delayed yelp, and the stone dropped with an echoing splash.