Chapter XXIIX: Sarcasm in the Dark
In the darkness of Moria, the two Noldor lay, beaten, bloodied, but happy, chattering to pass the time until they healed. Being elves, their bodies would heal much more quickly than humans, but the extent of their injuries forced them to stay immobile for the time being.
"Man, I need a drink," Mordae groaned from his position beside Celebdraug against the hulk of the boulder they lay upon.
"Sorry," his cousin replied, "Fresh out of ale, come back tomorrow."
"Darn."
"Besides," Celebdraug continued, "It's not like you need to drink; you're messed up enough already."
"Am not," Mordae huffed indignantly.
"Are, too."
"Do you dare insult me?" Mordae cried playfully.
"Nay. I do not dare insult you. I spit upon you instead!" Celebdraug answered, making a feeble attempt to spit on Mordae from where she lay. Her projectile fell far short of him, and he let out a small laugh.
"A hobbit spits better than you!" the warrior mocked.
"A hobbit looks better than you!" Celebdraug countered. She lowered her voice and spoke with the accent of the Corsairs, pirate mercenaries of the south, long slain by the Drow. "Argh! I gully ye, scurvy dog!"
"I gully yer mother!" Mordae cried, lifting a small, pointed rock from the ground.
Celebdraug drew a throwing knife from her burned cloak, and the two battled for a moment from where they lay.
"Taste my mìthril, you orc lover!" Celebdraug cried, batting the rock out of Mordae's hand and slashing over his throat.
Her cousin clutched his neck with a mock cry of pain, then collapsed, lying still upon the boulder.
There was silence for a moment, until Celebdraug began singing a Numenorian funeral dirge, terribly off key, with some of the words wrong.
Mordae smiled and joined her, doing his best to add a dissonant harmony. The cacophony of sound lasted until both the elves grew tired of it, at which point Mordae launched into a twisted version of a song he had heard the hobbits sing in the Prancing Pony hundreds of years ago.
'There is an inn, a trashy old in;
Beneath the Man in the Moon;
The men and stinky hobbitses come;
Have you ever seen a group so dumb?
So I blew them all to Udun.'
Take it, Celebdraug!"
'The ostler has a tipsy cat;
And what the blazes is an ostler?
And why did the stupid cat get drunk?
He must've looked in your mother's trunk;
And nothing rhymes with ostler.'
Mordae!"
'There are fourteen verses to this song;
And I'm not gonna sing 'em;
I don't care what they may say;
Legolas and Gimli were gay;
Someone should've shot them!'
"Someone should have shot them!"
The two elves finished the song together, in a clashing harmony, then collapsed in tears, exploding with laughter.
"I bet Bilbo is rolling in his grave," Mordae said through breaths as they calmed.
"Good," Celebdraug replied, "I wasted a good arrow on him."
At this, the cousins' calm shattered into hysterics for several more minutes.
"Man, remember when Aragorn would do this with us?" Celebdraug asked once the two had ceased their laughter.
"Yeah, before Arwen," Mordae muttered nostalgically.
"Arwen," Celebdraug repeated in an irritatingly high voice. "I don't know what he ever saw in her. I'd love to see Arwen take down a balrog."
"Oh, so he should have married you?"
A tongue of flame shot form Celebdraug's hand in Mordae's direction, but did not reach far enough to harm him, even if it was capable of doing so.
"Ew," the maiden spat, "No way. But still...Arwen?"
"I know!" Mordae agreed. "I doubt she could fight her way out of a hobbit pillow fight."
Celebdraug sighed. "Pillow fights."
"How come nobody does those with us anymore?" Mordae whined.
"I think it's because the last one we had, you knocked Gandalf out and I broke Aragorn's nose."
"Ah, yes. Should've broken Gandy's nose. Wouldn't have made a bloody difference," Mordae quipped.
Celebdraug cackled evilly. There was a pause, then, Celebdraug sat up slightly. "Hey, you want to hear a riddle?"
"Sure, why not."
"What goes on forever, not dying when it should, not living when it could, and wants to rule everything?"
Mordae shook his head slightly. "I haven't a clue."
"Galadriel!"
Laughter again consumed the elves, and when they finally stopped, Celebdraug spoke again. "I'm exhausted. What do you say we get some sleep and then blow this joint."
"Yeah, all this healing is taking a toll on me," Mordae conceded drowsily. "Plus, I'm getting sick of this pit. Nidanostre."
"Nidanostre. Meltye1."
"Meltye."
Gandalf raced into the large room in the Udunaedos' house where Glorfindel, Niphredil, Athfaë, and Dacil sat.
"They survived!" the wizard shouted. "Mordae and Celebdraug are alive!"
The others leaped up from their seats, joy evident on their faces.
"This is wonderful news!" Niphredil cried, her face glowing with happiness.
Athfaë raised an eyebrow, "Well, somebody is happy."
Niphredil turned to face the girl. "If Mordae and Celebdraug were to be killed, not only would I lose two of my best friends, but we would all lose any hope of surviving this war."
The Venyarohirrim maiden raised her hands defensively, "Alright, alright. You make a point. Go ahead and party."
Niphredil's grin broadened, "I think I will." She took hold of Glorfindel's arm and began to head for the door. "Come, let's go tell Aragorn and Arwen."
Glorfindel looked over his shoulder at Gandalf and shrugged with a contented smile.
Gandalf nodded with a grin of his own, then, turned to Dacil and Athfaë. "Now you will have your chance to speak with the Noldor. Meet me tomorrow at sunset, and all will be revealed to you."
Nearly a full day later, Mordae drew his mask from over his eyes, totally refreshed, to find Celebdraug's blazing red pupils staring into his own, only inches away.
"Rac!" he screamed, rolling to the side and drawing a dagger from his charred belt before he came to his senses.
"You," the warrior growled, waving his blade menacingly, "You are going to die."
Celebdraug gazed at him sorrowfully, her eyes wide, lips putting slightly.
"Not the face," Mordae gasped. "No. Bad."
"Precious..." Celebdraug whispered forlornly, not breaking her stare from her cousin.
He whirled away. "Damn you." After sheathing his knife, he spun back. "You cheats."
"I know," Celebdraug said brightly, breaking into a happy grin. "Come on. We leaves this stinking mine, now."
"Yes," Mordae agreed, "Leave now, and never come back."
1 Love-you (family member)
