"Stupid, stupid!" a voice was muttering.
Ginny woke up, forced in her guest bed. Funny, she didn't remember falling asleep. There was a wet towlette on her forehead, and a bunch of grapes in a crystal bowl by her bed. Her stomach felt like a jellyfish. It rumbled in a disturbing manner.
"I never should have let him. What was I thinking? God, if mama knew he was going down to the vineyard everyday . . ." Vireth was muttering while fussing over her, wiping her face, feeling her forehead for her temperature, "Well, at least he brought you home good enough. He's not a bad boy Miss, just so . . . "
Ginny turned over, groaning slightly. Her head felt like someone had shoved a tin pot over it and banged against it repeatedly with a large shovel before playing mambo no.5 with drumsticks. She could feel her ears reverberating gently.
"What time is it?" she groaned.
"It's five of the clock, you'll be going down to supper soon, and look at the state you're in! Tomorrow, I am personally taking you around. Barandor is in SO much trouble."
"No thanks, I've seen most of it already." Ginny sat up, groaning. Her stomach felt hollow and empty. She didn't remember feeling so hungry. Vireth walked her over and sat her down at the vanity table. She took a wooden comb and started passing it through Ginny's thick black hair.
"We have to get you nice and tidy." She said evenly, "You know, mister Bilbo was asking how you were today. I told him you was out. He said he looked forward to seeing you."
"Really?" Ginny said, turning around. Vireth smiled.
"Yea, and you know that metal skeleton you brought with you? The one with a wheel?"
"It's called a *bike*, or a bicycle."
"Well, it's still downstairs, if you'd like to see it. As is your case."
"Oh, well, shall we go?"
"Ah-ah-ah! You're not dressed yet."
Ginny looked down. She was still wearing the same green dress, except the velvet bodice had been removed, probably while she was sleeping. The skirt was crusted with dirt.
"Oh."
Luckily, Vireth had another dress prepared. It was dove blue, and simple in appearance, but it fitted well and Ginny felt like a princess in make- believe.
"Would you like some jewellery to go along with it?"
"WOULD I?! What have you got?"
"Well, I borrowed this circlet from lady Lindoriel, who's got lots, and these bracelets are from her daughter."
"They're very pretty." Ginny said appreciatively and put them on.
They were silver and very delicate. Ginny allowed Vireth to plait her hair over the silver wire to fasten it on. She realised that she was breathing very shortly, and her heart was thumping like hell.
Oh Gods.
She was going to dine with the Elves!
*****
This was truly haute cuisine.
Roasted lamb with dozens of herbs cooked with something that looked like radishes. To think that the Elves were vegetarians! No, judging by this table, they were practically carnivorous. Amidst the tureens of soup and platter after platter of the finest meats, there was only one bowl of whole green salad leaves, almost untouched and looking very lonely.
I suppose Elves don't get scurvy either, though Ginny, helping herself to some salad consisting mainly of flower petals. It tasted faintly of Turkish Delight, mixed with spinach.
To her disappointment, she had not been regarded as a VIP and sat at the head with Glorfindel, Gandalf and Elrond and Arwen (Elladan and Elrohir were probably out); she was midway, quite near to the dwarves and hobbits.
I suppose they seat everyone in height order, she thought dismally and ate some more chicken.
Dinner was not quite the extravagance she had expected. There were many exotic dishes, but very little fish. Of course, she thought, they would have to get fish from Cirdan at the havens, or something. There were far more meat and potatoes, but she had hardly any appetite left. Tureens of soup and stew, and even a gravy boat in the shape of a Galleon. Somehow, Ye Olde Cookery was not quite to her taste. She made a mental resolution to teach the Elves the joy of pizza.
From the Elven delicacies, she tried some stewed rabbit for the first time in her life. It tasted rather stringy, but pleasant
Dessert came before Ginny had even finished her first course. It was very light sponge cake, with a sugary white sauce that turned out to be yoghurt. Little bowls of honey with teaspoons in them stood at every few feet on the table. Ginny saw some dwarves drip the golden honey on the bird shaped meringue that they had been given. She looked down and saw a small dove nesting on her plate. She broke off the tail and tasted it.
"Elves have quite the sweet tooth, don't they?" she said to no one in particular.
"Why, I suppose that they like sweet things. You haven't tried the fruit yet. Sweetest apples this side of the Brandywine!" said a cheery voice.
Ginny turned to the speaker. He was short and grey-haired with small beady eyes, and was smiling merrily at her.
"Who are you?" she said, her mouth stuffed with meringue.
"Bilbo Baggins, esquire," He said cheerily, extending a hand, "Pleased to make your acquaintance. I see you are not the renowned Avaniel that I've been hearing about. I am quite grateful for that."
"Quite." Said Ginny and let him continue. He seemed itching to talk.
"I am rather interested in your eye glass things, quite a spectacle. The Old Took himself, poor-sighted in his age, had a little piece of glass that he fitted in front of his eye, it helped him see but for others just made them dizzy. I remember it was attached to a chain."
"Oh yeah?" This guy talked with the vigour of a female gossip columnist.
"I find it very hard to believe that *anyone* is fairer than the Evenstar, and I would have been quite offended if I'd been proven wrong." Arwen was not that far away, but the food fights between the hobbits and the dwarves (and several of the more mischievous elves) blocked Ginny's view of her.
Ginny swallowed her food and opened her mouth:
"Are you implying that you're happy that I'm ugly?" she cried, surprised at her own audacity. She was naturally taciturn amongst strangers, but these weren't *strangers*. She knew their life story. She knew their parent's names and what they did during the Ring War. She knew nearly everything about them, even perhaps down to their favourite food, which, for hobbits was easy to guess.
Bilbo laughed heartily.
"Oh, the cheek!" he laughed with mirth, "Now would the Avaniel say that, I wonder? I see we're going to get along my girl. What is your name? I don't think anyone's told me."
"No, no one's asked me either. I'm trying to think of a good alias that I can fool you with." Ginny said, picking up an apple.
Bilbo laughed again.
"By Elbereth, are you a dear. I shall call you Belthil, Divine Radiance. You may not have it, but inside you shine."
"Th-anks . . ." Ginny said. This guy sure was strange, but 'Belthil' had a nice ring to it. She could call herself Belly. At least it wasn't something horrible like Unadrithiel Sadrithiel Unithrawen or something like that. Besides, she didn't have the heart to contradict him. She bit into her shiny red apple.
"Its not very sweet." She commented.
"Well, not all of them are. Very sweet apples are rare, these are considered the finest."
"In my world, ALL apples are sweet, or people won't buy them." Ginny said.
"Then your world is a very strange world indeed." He replied nonchalantly, and then, "Perhaps you would like to try some wine? It's a special festival mead, fresh from the vineyard. I doubt you'll be picky about this."
"Um . . . no thanks," Ginny mumbled. Her tummy rumbled disturbingly when she looked at the red wine.
*
Dinner finished far too soon in Ginny's opinion, and she had to be shooed away from her platter by the servants. The guests followed Elrond and Arwen as the huge doors at the end of the hall swung open.
Bilbo whispered in her ear:
"We're going into-"
"Yes I know," she said, feeling nothing could impress her, "The Hall of fire."
The hobbit looked on her with surprise mingled with respect, but said nothing.
Inside the large common room, there was a toasty fire and several couches and chairs scattered around the room. Instrumental corners were prepared and stacked up for musicians. Ginny spied a large harp, and her fingers itched. And then it occurred to her that THIS was what accounted for evening entertainment here.
This, and also maybe some kissing in the moonlight on a certain bridge for certain people.
This is what happens, she tutted to herself, when poor souls are without a television.
"IS Arwen going to sing her song?" she asked Bilbo, and sat on a couch next to him. At least he was taking some notice of her. Vireth had gone to help with the washing up, poor girl.
"You mean the hymn she sang yesterday? Possibly. But I think its some other people's turn today."
"Who's?"
"Well, yours, for one. And I have my own piece too."
"ME?"
"Well, you are quite the obscure guest. People will want to learn about you."
"Well, what should I do?"
"Sing a song, play an instrument, tell a story." He said.
Ginny thought. She could sing, she could sing pretty well, but just had trouble with high notes and volume, but as long as you were deaf, you were fine. And she could play the violin ok but not brilliantly, say, where was it? And she could always tell a story about her world back home. She was nervous to the point of fainting, but she knew this was once in a lifetime chance. And besides, she had nothing to lose. If you make a fool of yourself, her father always said, at least do it in front of people who won't hate you for it.
"Wheres my violin?" she said. She had decided. If she was to make her fool of herself, it might as well be with the most perfect beings on Arda.
"Vie-what?"
Ginny gestured with her arms.
"black case, about this long, a wooden instrument inside, has anyone seen it? It's very expensive, my uncle bought it for me."
"Fear not, I shall have one of the servants bring it for you."
**************************************************************************** ************************************
Violin!
Wonder of wonders!
Those skilled can create the most harmonious melodies possible on it, enchanting and delighting all those within ear!
But some can expertly use it to perform the most realistic sound effects, such as 'cat giving birth'.
So far, Ginny was tending towards the latter. And this was just practising for Bilbo.
"That's love-ly Belthil." He said in a rather strained voice, "Are you going to play that song for them?"
"No," Ginny couldn't help smirking, "I have something special prepared." She said.
***
Everyone was watching her, some eager, some dismissive. She wiped her sweaty hands on her skirt and took a big breath.
She placed her bow on the A string and moved it across. The following sound had several people massaging their eardrums.
"Um," she said. And tried again, all the while thinking: what the hell was I thinking?!?!?
She played.
And soon it was over. She sighed. A few people clapped politely. One elf wearing fancy green spoke up.
"What was that song?"
"Um, it's not really a song than a tune. It's really more of a *theme*. From a film, a um moving picture soundtrack, you may or may not be familiar with. It may even surprise you. It would have been very funny, at least for me, if you, um, actually recognised it. Um. It's called 'Concerning Hobbits'."
The man looked gave the person beside him a Look. Ginny blushed terribly. Thankfully a dwarf saved the day.
"An appropriate song, especially for our situation, but not skill. I can play the fiddle better than that." He said, twining his beard with a finger. Ginny glared.
"It's not a fiddle, it's a violin."
"What matter is pine or beech, to the eyes of a woodcutter?" he scoffed dismissively. A few elves in green looked offended. Ginny rightfully guessed; they were from Mirkwood. One stepped forward.
"A great matter if you are starving in the woods and unable to hunt. You cannot eat pine, but beech mast is edible. In the Days of Old, the wood elves of Beleriand relied on it as a food source." Ginny smiled. She could feel the frustration rolling off the dwarf.
"That matters not," he cried gruffly, "What matters is that this nameless girl cannot make proper music on her fiddle."
"Violin you petty dwarf." Came a sounding mutter. Ginny suddenly found a large angry growling bearded face pressed close to hers. She whimpered.
"Now, now Gloin," Bilbo said sharply, "She is but a girl, and you know you shouldn't terrorise children. She's only here until we decide what to do with her, Belthil, why don't you give your fidd-violin to Gloin and let him play? He's not a bad fellow."
Ginny did so, reluctantly.
Gloin was rather unfamiliar with the shoulder rest, which he threw on the floor, and complained loudly that the bow was all wrong, but after a few minutes practise, he played a small jig on it, better than Ginny had ever played in her life. Everyone clapped, including a scowling Mirkwood elf.
Great! It was hardly her first day, and already upstaged, by a dwarf! Not a good thing for a Mary Sue, especially if they wanted to woo a certain Prince of Mirkwood. Gloin started playing another tune, an old Dwarven one, and Ginny suddenly thought of something.
"Bilbo, Mr. Baggins, sir?"
"Yes Belthil, my dear?"
"What did you mean when you said 'until we decide what to do with me'."
"Well, you're not a small matter m'dear-"
"--I know *that*--"
"And we need some time to decide what to do with you. It was Elrond's idea, of course . . ."
"What are you going to do then? Are you going to send me back?" Bilbo noticed a hint of distress in her voice.
"Not if you want to stay," he said carefully, and then evenly, "Do you want to stay?"
Ginny squirmed uncomfortably.
"Well, no, not forever, because I still have a life back home, be it miserable and nightmarishly to hell. But this is like a dream come true for me. I have loved Middle Earth ever since I read- ever since I learned about it. And it would be a dream for me to join the Fellowship and see Lothlorien because I love trees."
Bilbo nearly choked.
"This is not some picnic, Belthil, we are saving Middle Earth from its Doom, not some happy outing to some merry country far away!" Class. The hobbit knew something of sarcasm.
"I know that, I know that!" Ginny cried, "And I can help you! I know everything about Middle Earth that I can remember! I can give you information; I could stop the unnecessary deaths of hundreds! I can teach you the technology of my own world and weaponry that you can use in your battles, well, maybe not modern technology, but I can aid you in every way!!!"
The old hobbit was staring at this young girl in a new light.
"Did I hear you correctly?" a voice said. It was . . .
"Eep." Said Ginny and seized up. It was Legolas, prince of Mirkwood. Oh joy. How convenient. Simply marvellous.
All that time he has been sitting just metres away from where she had been playing. Her heart was pounding and her hand went to her hair immediately, trying to smooth it. She felt her face getting hot and wished she'd thought to put on some make-up. Her mouth was dry and was he *ignoring* her?!
"Ah, and you are the young lady who . . . appeared . . . at the council. I hope you are well." He gave a very small bow, "I am glad to know that you may be of aid to us in these desperate times. Perhaps Elrond has been wrong, you really are our saviour, just not in the way we think. And to think that we had the council without you! I will tell him of this offer immediately."
Ginny was stiff in her seat with staring at his eyes, wishing the ground would swallow her up because for the life of her she couldn't think of what to say. If she were Mary Sue, she could thank him, or even keep cool and mysterious, and intrigue him further. Ginny knew that whatever she did, it would look anything but mysterious. Comical, even. Oh the irony, or lack of it.
She opened her mouth to say something witty, but all that escaped from her lips was a high-pitched sound, rather like 'squee', a perfect C# sharp.
The Elf looked puzzled at Bilbo, who shrugged. Then he walked away, after a swift 'good night'.
Ginny wanted to pound herself, muttering profanities under her breath.
"Are you alright, Belthil?" Bilbo asked good-naturedly.
"My NAME is GINNY, shortass!!"
____________________________________________________________________________ ____________________________
It was a very ugly box.
It was the sort of box that looked like it was a plastic prop from a vampire film. It was the sort of box that Dracula put his dental fangs in. It was black and had the right amount of dust encrusted on the lid. It probably housed many forms of living organisms, the main being woodworm. There were little Celtic designs carved in the wooden lid, but in all aspects, it was very, very, boring.
In a word, it was the kind of thing that is housed for millennia in people's attics and generally forgotten about.
Susie stared at it.
"What is it?" she said.
"Open it." Said LaRose, without looking at her granddaughter.
Susie held her breath as her fingers prised along the rim of the lid, gently winching it open. Was there an eerie glow emanating from the box? It should have been compulsory. The velvet padding echoed of precious jewels or gold. This was truly treasure.
She exhaled.
It was a pearl.
A black pearl.
A very greasy, chipped, disfigured, crusty, grubby black pearl. It smelled slightly of rotten oysters.
An impressive sight when you're a crustacean, but not when you're a Mary- Sue.
Susie gave a gasp, but for all the wrong reasons.
"What do I do with it?" she asked, eyes still transfixed at the awful sight in front of her.
"I've no idea," said her grandmother casually, "Use it, I suppose. I'm sorry about the state of it. I never really bothered with cleaning the thing. It spent some time in Tiddles' tummy as well. It cost me a hoard for the vet to get it out. The dumb cat." She added.
Susie nodded. She found she was having trouble processing this information.
"So what do I do with it?"
"I've told you, I've no idea. I've never had to use this. This," she said, indicating the mouldy mollusc excretion, "has been handed down the line for generations as a sort of Plan B, if Destiny fails to call up. If, like me, you had just gone through the wormhole, this never would have happened. You are, after all, the Chosen One. Now you have to make your own portal, which is very dangerous in a world devoid of mysticism like this. There is a risk of damaging the fabric of reality. You know what I mean, just think Star Trek."
"Mmhm." Susie wasn't paying any attention, "It wasn't my fault I didn't go through. They did something wrong with the portal. It went bazooka."
"Well, you'd think they'd try again if you didn't get there successfully. I always said myself, try and try again. Though notably, I've only ever had to try once."
"Yeah, yeah. So how do I use it? Do I put it in a potion, or do some enchantments? Do I eat it?" she winced at the last idea.
LaRose took a breath.
"Look into your heart," she said with her best fairy grandmother voice, "It will tell you the true path to take." The air around her seemed to sparkle.
If someone like Ginny had been there she may have said something like 'to hell with matters of the heart, I'm listening to one organ and that's my brain only. If God/Satan wanted us to listen to our heart, s/he would have planted a voice box interpreter inside our ribcage.'
Unfortunately for her, Susie did not think the same way as her pessimist counterpart. She picked up the pearl between thumb and forefinger and threw it daintily in the air. Two pairs of eyes followed the trajectory of the once-shining pearl. They watched as it plummeted in slow motion to land on the wooden floor, without bouncing up again. There was a ripple, as that which comes before an outburst of energy,
The results were swift, but nonetheless effective.
***
Susie opened her eyes dramatically to find herself in the remains of her grandmother's attic, swaying gently in the breeze. Her eardrums were ringing. The air smelled heavily of smoke and ash and she could hear LaRose saying something like "the insurance people are going to have a field day". She was vaguely aware that she had very little left of her eyebrows. But nevertheless, she still looked gorgeous.
The pearl, had of course, disappeared.
"Well," said LaRose, brushing black dust soot off her clothes, "it's a good thing there's a plan C."
Ginny woke up, forced in her guest bed. Funny, she didn't remember falling asleep. There was a wet towlette on her forehead, and a bunch of grapes in a crystal bowl by her bed. Her stomach felt like a jellyfish. It rumbled in a disturbing manner.
"I never should have let him. What was I thinking? God, if mama knew he was going down to the vineyard everyday . . ." Vireth was muttering while fussing over her, wiping her face, feeling her forehead for her temperature, "Well, at least he brought you home good enough. He's not a bad boy Miss, just so . . . "
Ginny turned over, groaning slightly. Her head felt like someone had shoved a tin pot over it and banged against it repeatedly with a large shovel before playing mambo no.5 with drumsticks. She could feel her ears reverberating gently.
"What time is it?" she groaned.
"It's five of the clock, you'll be going down to supper soon, and look at the state you're in! Tomorrow, I am personally taking you around. Barandor is in SO much trouble."
"No thanks, I've seen most of it already." Ginny sat up, groaning. Her stomach felt hollow and empty. She didn't remember feeling so hungry. Vireth walked her over and sat her down at the vanity table. She took a wooden comb and started passing it through Ginny's thick black hair.
"We have to get you nice and tidy." She said evenly, "You know, mister Bilbo was asking how you were today. I told him you was out. He said he looked forward to seeing you."
"Really?" Ginny said, turning around. Vireth smiled.
"Yea, and you know that metal skeleton you brought with you? The one with a wheel?"
"It's called a *bike*, or a bicycle."
"Well, it's still downstairs, if you'd like to see it. As is your case."
"Oh, well, shall we go?"
"Ah-ah-ah! You're not dressed yet."
Ginny looked down. She was still wearing the same green dress, except the velvet bodice had been removed, probably while she was sleeping. The skirt was crusted with dirt.
"Oh."
Luckily, Vireth had another dress prepared. It was dove blue, and simple in appearance, but it fitted well and Ginny felt like a princess in make- believe.
"Would you like some jewellery to go along with it?"
"WOULD I?! What have you got?"
"Well, I borrowed this circlet from lady Lindoriel, who's got lots, and these bracelets are from her daughter."
"They're very pretty." Ginny said appreciatively and put them on.
They were silver and very delicate. Ginny allowed Vireth to plait her hair over the silver wire to fasten it on. She realised that she was breathing very shortly, and her heart was thumping like hell.
Oh Gods.
She was going to dine with the Elves!
*****
This was truly haute cuisine.
Roasted lamb with dozens of herbs cooked with something that looked like radishes. To think that the Elves were vegetarians! No, judging by this table, they were practically carnivorous. Amidst the tureens of soup and platter after platter of the finest meats, there was only one bowl of whole green salad leaves, almost untouched and looking very lonely.
I suppose Elves don't get scurvy either, though Ginny, helping herself to some salad consisting mainly of flower petals. It tasted faintly of Turkish Delight, mixed with spinach.
To her disappointment, she had not been regarded as a VIP and sat at the head with Glorfindel, Gandalf and Elrond and Arwen (Elladan and Elrohir were probably out); she was midway, quite near to the dwarves and hobbits.
I suppose they seat everyone in height order, she thought dismally and ate some more chicken.
Dinner was not quite the extravagance she had expected. There were many exotic dishes, but very little fish. Of course, she thought, they would have to get fish from Cirdan at the havens, or something. There were far more meat and potatoes, but she had hardly any appetite left. Tureens of soup and stew, and even a gravy boat in the shape of a Galleon. Somehow, Ye Olde Cookery was not quite to her taste. She made a mental resolution to teach the Elves the joy of pizza.
From the Elven delicacies, she tried some stewed rabbit for the first time in her life. It tasted rather stringy, but pleasant
Dessert came before Ginny had even finished her first course. It was very light sponge cake, with a sugary white sauce that turned out to be yoghurt. Little bowls of honey with teaspoons in them stood at every few feet on the table. Ginny saw some dwarves drip the golden honey on the bird shaped meringue that they had been given. She looked down and saw a small dove nesting on her plate. She broke off the tail and tasted it.
"Elves have quite the sweet tooth, don't they?" she said to no one in particular.
"Why, I suppose that they like sweet things. You haven't tried the fruit yet. Sweetest apples this side of the Brandywine!" said a cheery voice.
Ginny turned to the speaker. He was short and grey-haired with small beady eyes, and was smiling merrily at her.
"Who are you?" she said, her mouth stuffed with meringue.
"Bilbo Baggins, esquire," He said cheerily, extending a hand, "Pleased to make your acquaintance. I see you are not the renowned Avaniel that I've been hearing about. I am quite grateful for that."
"Quite." Said Ginny and let him continue. He seemed itching to talk.
"I am rather interested in your eye glass things, quite a spectacle. The Old Took himself, poor-sighted in his age, had a little piece of glass that he fitted in front of his eye, it helped him see but for others just made them dizzy. I remember it was attached to a chain."
"Oh yeah?" This guy talked with the vigour of a female gossip columnist.
"I find it very hard to believe that *anyone* is fairer than the Evenstar, and I would have been quite offended if I'd been proven wrong." Arwen was not that far away, but the food fights between the hobbits and the dwarves (and several of the more mischievous elves) blocked Ginny's view of her.
Ginny swallowed her food and opened her mouth:
"Are you implying that you're happy that I'm ugly?" she cried, surprised at her own audacity. She was naturally taciturn amongst strangers, but these weren't *strangers*. She knew their life story. She knew their parent's names and what they did during the Ring War. She knew nearly everything about them, even perhaps down to their favourite food, which, for hobbits was easy to guess.
Bilbo laughed heartily.
"Oh, the cheek!" he laughed with mirth, "Now would the Avaniel say that, I wonder? I see we're going to get along my girl. What is your name? I don't think anyone's told me."
"No, no one's asked me either. I'm trying to think of a good alias that I can fool you with." Ginny said, picking up an apple.
Bilbo laughed again.
"By Elbereth, are you a dear. I shall call you Belthil, Divine Radiance. You may not have it, but inside you shine."
"Th-anks . . ." Ginny said. This guy sure was strange, but 'Belthil' had a nice ring to it. She could call herself Belly. At least it wasn't something horrible like Unadrithiel Sadrithiel Unithrawen or something like that. Besides, she didn't have the heart to contradict him. She bit into her shiny red apple.
"Its not very sweet." She commented.
"Well, not all of them are. Very sweet apples are rare, these are considered the finest."
"In my world, ALL apples are sweet, or people won't buy them." Ginny said.
"Then your world is a very strange world indeed." He replied nonchalantly, and then, "Perhaps you would like to try some wine? It's a special festival mead, fresh from the vineyard. I doubt you'll be picky about this."
"Um . . . no thanks," Ginny mumbled. Her tummy rumbled disturbingly when she looked at the red wine.
*
Dinner finished far too soon in Ginny's opinion, and she had to be shooed away from her platter by the servants. The guests followed Elrond and Arwen as the huge doors at the end of the hall swung open.
Bilbo whispered in her ear:
"We're going into-"
"Yes I know," she said, feeling nothing could impress her, "The Hall of fire."
The hobbit looked on her with surprise mingled with respect, but said nothing.
Inside the large common room, there was a toasty fire and several couches and chairs scattered around the room. Instrumental corners were prepared and stacked up for musicians. Ginny spied a large harp, and her fingers itched. And then it occurred to her that THIS was what accounted for evening entertainment here.
This, and also maybe some kissing in the moonlight on a certain bridge for certain people.
This is what happens, she tutted to herself, when poor souls are without a television.
"IS Arwen going to sing her song?" she asked Bilbo, and sat on a couch next to him. At least he was taking some notice of her. Vireth had gone to help with the washing up, poor girl.
"You mean the hymn she sang yesterday? Possibly. But I think its some other people's turn today."
"Who's?"
"Well, yours, for one. And I have my own piece too."
"ME?"
"Well, you are quite the obscure guest. People will want to learn about you."
"Well, what should I do?"
"Sing a song, play an instrument, tell a story." He said.
Ginny thought. She could sing, she could sing pretty well, but just had trouble with high notes and volume, but as long as you were deaf, you were fine. And she could play the violin ok but not brilliantly, say, where was it? And she could always tell a story about her world back home. She was nervous to the point of fainting, but she knew this was once in a lifetime chance. And besides, she had nothing to lose. If you make a fool of yourself, her father always said, at least do it in front of people who won't hate you for it.
"Wheres my violin?" she said. She had decided. If she was to make her fool of herself, it might as well be with the most perfect beings on Arda.
"Vie-what?"
Ginny gestured with her arms.
"black case, about this long, a wooden instrument inside, has anyone seen it? It's very expensive, my uncle bought it for me."
"Fear not, I shall have one of the servants bring it for you."
**************************************************************************** ************************************
Violin!
Wonder of wonders!
Those skilled can create the most harmonious melodies possible on it, enchanting and delighting all those within ear!
But some can expertly use it to perform the most realistic sound effects, such as 'cat giving birth'.
So far, Ginny was tending towards the latter. And this was just practising for Bilbo.
"That's love-ly Belthil." He said in a rather strained voice, "Are you going to play that song for them?"
"No," Ginny couldn't help smirking, "I have something special prepared." She said.
***
Everyone was watching her, some eager, some dismissive. She wiped her sweaty hands on her skirt and took a big breath.
She placed her bow on the A string and moved it across. The following sound had several people massaging their eardrums.
"Um," she said. And tried again, all the while thinking: what the hell was I thinking?!?!?
She played.
And soon it was over. She sighed. A few people clapped politely. One elf wearing fancy green spoke up.
"What was that song?"
"Um, it's not really a song than a tune. It's really more of a *theme*. From a film, a um moving picture soundtrack, you may or may not be familiar with. It may even surprise you. It would have been very funny, at least for me, if you, um, actually recognised it. Um. It's called 'Concerning Hobbits'."
The man looked gave the person beside him a Look. Ginny blushed terribly. Thankfully a dwarf saved the day.
"An appropriate song, especially for our situation, but not skill. I can play the fiddle better than that." He said, twining his beard with a finger. Ginny glared.
"It's not a fiddle, it's a violin."
"What matter is pine or beech, to the eyes of a woodcutter?" he scoffed dismissively. A few elves in green looked offended. Ginny rightfully guessed; they were from Mirkwood. One stepped forward.
"A great matter if you are starving in the woods and unable to hunt. You cannot eat pine, but beech mast is edible. In the Days of Old, the wood elves of Beleriand relied on it as a food source." Ginny smiled. She could feel the frustration rolling off the dwarf.
"That matters not," he cried gruffly, "What matters is that this nameless girl cannot make proper music on her fiddle."
"Violin you petty dwarf." Came a sounding mutter. Ginny suddenly found a large angry growling bearded face pressed close to hers. She whimpered.
"Now, now Gloin," Bilbo said sharply, "She is but a girl, and you know you shouldn't terrorise children. She's only here until we decide what to do with her, Belthil, why don't you give your fidd-violin to Gloin and let him play? He's not a bad fellow."
Ginny did so, reluctantly.
Gloin was rather unfamiliar with the shoulder rest, which he threw on the floor, and complained loudly that the bow was all wrong, but after a few minutes practise, he played a small jig on it, better than Ginny had ever played in her life. Everyone clapped, including a scowling Mirkwood elf.
Great! It was hardly her first day, and already upstaged, by a dwarf! Not a good thing for a Mary Sue, especially if they wanted to woo a certain Prince of Mirkwood. Gloin started playing another tune, an old Dwarven one, and Ginny suddenly thought of something.
"Bilbo, Mr. Baggins, sir?"
"Yes Belthil, my dear?"
"What did you mean when you said 'until we decide what to do with me'."
"Well, you're not a small matter m'dear-"
"--I know *that*--"
"And we need some time to decide what to do with you. It was Elrond's idea, of course . . ."
"What are you going to do then? Are you going to send me back?" Bilbo noticed a hint of distress in her voice.
"Not if you want to stay," he said carefully, and then evenly, "Do you want to stay?"
Ginny squirmed uncomfortably.
"Well, no, not forever, because I still have a life back home, be it miserable and nightmarishly to hell. But this is like a dream come true for me. I have loved Middle Earth ever since I read- ever since I learned about it. And it would be a dream for me to join the Fellowship and see Lothlorien because I love trees."
Bilbo nearly choked.
"This is not some picnic, Belthil, we are saving Middle Earth from its Doom, not some happy outing to some merry country far away!" Class. The hobbit knew something of sarcasm.
"I know that, I know that!" Ginny cried, "And I can help you! I know everything about Middle Earth that I can remember! I can give you information; I could stop the unnecessary deaths of hundreds! I can teach you the technology of my own world and weaponry that you can use in your battles, well, maybe not modern technology, but I can aid you in every way!!!"
The old hobbit was staring at this young girl in a new light.
"Did I hear you correctly?" a voice said. It was . . .
"Eep." Said Ginny and seized up. It was Legolas, prince of Mirkwood. Oh joy. How convenient. Simply marvellous.
All that time he has been sitting just metres away from where she had been playing. Her heart was pounding and her hand went to her hair immediately, trying to smooth it. She felt her face getting hot and wished she'd thought to put on some make-up. Her mouth was dry and was he *ignoring* her?!
"Ah, and you are the young lady who . . . appeared . . . at the council. I hope you are well." He gave a very small bow, "I am glad to know that you may be of aid to us in these desperate times. Perhaps Elrond has been wrong, you really are our saviour, just not in the way we think. And to think that we had the council without you! I will tell him of this offer immediately."
Ginny was stiff in her seat with staring at his eyes, wishing the ground would swallow her up because for the life of her she couldn't think of what to say. If she were Mary Sue, she could thank him, or even keep cool and mysterious, and intrigue him further. Ginny knew that whatever she did, it would look anything but mysterious. Comical, even. Oh the irony, or lack of it.
She opened her mouth to say something witty, but all that escaped from her lips was a high-pitched sound, rather like 'squee', a perfect C# sharp.
The Elf looked puzzled at Bilbo, who shrugged. Then he walked away, after a swift 'good night'.
Ginny wanted to pound herself, muttering profanities under her breath.
"Are you alright, Belthil?" Bilbo asked good-naturedly.
"My NAME is GINNY, shortass!!"
____________________________________________________________________________ ____________________________
It was a very ugly box.
It was the sort of box that looked like it was a plastic prop from a vampire film. It was the sort of box that Dracula put his dental fangs in. It was black and had the right amount of dust encrusted on the lid. It probably housed many forms of living organisms, the main being woodworm. There were little Celtic designs carved in the wooden lid, but in all aspects, it was very, very, boring.
In a word, it was the kind of thing that is housed for millennia in people's attics and generally forgotten about.
Susie stared at it.
"What is it?" she said.
"Open it." Said LaRose, without looking at her granddaughter.
Susie held her breath as her fingers prised along the rim of the lid, gently winching it open. Was there an eerie glow emanating from the box? It should have been compulsory. The velvet padding echoed of precious jewels or gold. This was truly treasure.
She exhaled.
It was a pearl.
A black pearl.
A very greasy, chipped, disfigured, crusty, grubby black pearl. It smelled slightly of rotten oysters.
An impressive sight when you're a crustacean, but not when you're a Mary- Sue.
Susie gave a gasp, but for all the wrong reasons.
"What do I do with it?" she asked, eyes still transfixed at the awful sight in front of her.
"I've no idea," said her grandmother casually, "Use it, I suppose. I'm sorry about the state of it. I never really bothered with cleaning the thing. It spent some time in Tiddles' tummy as well. It cost me a hoard for the vet to get it out. The dumb cat." She added.
Susie nodded. She found she was having trouble processing this information.
"So what do I do with it?"
"I've told you, I've no idea. I've never had to use this. This," she said, indicating the mouldy mollusc excretion, "has been handed down the line for generations as a sort of Plan B, if Destiny fails to call up. If, like me, you had just gone through the wormhole, this never would have happened. You are, after all, the Chosen One. Now you have to make your own portal, which is very dangerous in a world devoid of mysticism like this. There is a risk of damaging the fabric of reality. You know what I mean, just think Star Trek."
"Mmhm." Susie wasn't paying any attention, "It wasn't my fault I didn't go through. They did something wrong with the portal. It went bazooka."
"Well, you'd think they'd try again if you didn't get there successfully. I always said myself, try and try again. Though notably, I've only ever had to try once."
"Yeah, yeah. So how do I use it? Do I put it in a potion, or do some enchantments? Do I eat it?" she winced at the last idea.
LaRose took a breath.
"Look into your heart," she said with her best fairy grandmother voice, "It will tell you the true path to take." The air around her seemed to sparkle.
If someone like Ginny had been there she may have said something like 'to hell with matters of the heart, I'm listening to one organ and that's my brain only. If God/Satan wanted us to listen to our heart, s/he would have planted a voice box interpreter inside our ribcage.'
Unfortunately for her, Susie did not think the same way as her pessimist counterpart. She picked up the pearl between thumb and forefinger and threw it daintily in the air. Two pairs of eyes followed the trajectory of the once-shining pearl. They watched as it plummeted in slow motion to land on the wooden floor, without bouncing up again. There was a ripple, as that which comes before an outburst of energy,
The results were swift, but nonetheless effective.
***
Susie opened her eyes dramatically to find herself in the remains of her grandmother's attic, swaying gently in the breeze. Her eardrums were ringing. The air smelled heavily of smoke and ash and she could hear LaRose saying something like "the insurance people are going to have a field day". She was vaguely aware that she had very little left of her eyebrows. But nevertheless, she still looked gorgeous.
The pearl, had of course, disappeared.
"Well," said LaRose, brushing black dust soot off her clothes, "it's a good thing there's a plan C."
