A Middle Earth Quest
Chapter 5
Disclaimer- I still don't own anything LOTR, or the concept behind the park. Don't sue... I own the human characters. Blah blah blah...
Suuki-Aldrea- I'm glad you liked it, and thank you for reviewing. Your idea was exactly what I needed. I had the hardest time putting that chapter together, and when I read your last review, the light bulb came on and I just wanted to whack myself upside the head. Besides, your reviews are such a confidence boost. Thank you, it helped a lot.
Silver Whirl- I'm glad you approve. And Bethy would enjoy that wouldn't she. I'll have to tell her. I'll put astronomy in there, but you have to help me. You're the one that's really good at coming up with the cosmic phrases.
A/N- thanks to the other people who reviewed. This chapter was also hard to put together and I'm not quite sure why. Maybe it's because I want to get to chapter six, but whatever. Here it is. Enjoy, and please review at the end! Thanks!
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Walking hand in hand with an elf child, inside Mel seethed. She was taking yet another young elf to join his kin in Lothlorien, and to choose his lifelong occupation. As soon as he could make it possible, Owen had brought in a weapons master, music teacher, and art teacher. The music and art Mel had no problem with, but she was still furious with him, now a year later, about the weapons training. He had hardly consulted with her on the issue, and only after he had picked his new employees. And she was the one person in the whole park whose opinion in the matter really counted.
She had already gotten into a screaming match with him over it, and she did not care to repeat the experience. She had explained to him, at the top of her lungs, that teaching an already malcontent set of people to use, make and maintain weapons was just asking for disaster. And he had replied, also at the top of his lungs, that this was something for them to do, and that they would be happy for it. Besides, they could always practice with each other and use wildlife passing through their forest as target practice. He hadn't listened to her when she'd tried to tell him that they were smart, and that smart people needed stimulation. Smart people became easily bored. He wouldn't listen when she'd said that they all would soon grow tired of target practice and turn to rebellion again. Only this time when they did it, they would be ten times more dangerous. In the end she had given up and left him to his stubborn dreams. She knew it was all going to come crashing down, and there was nothing she could do about it.
The young elf at her side whimpered, bringing her attention back to the here and now. She smiled at him, if somewhat grimly, trying to make him feel better. She had done this twice already since instituting the tutoring system, and held little hope that this youngster would be any different than most of his cousins. Since they had brought in the teachers, only five of sixteen elves had chosen to devote themselves to the study of art or music. All the rest had eagerly turned to weapons training, especially archery. Owen delighted in this, saying that it would be exciting for guests, but Mel was disappointed. That meant that more of them knew how to cause serious trouble when the time came for it. And Mel was sure it would come, eventually.
Few words were spoken as the psychologist escorted the little elf. They reached the gates to Lothlorien in good time, and entered in silence. They were greeted solemnly there by the whole group of elves, standing in lines and looking very much like a military unit. Mel found it unnerving every time she had to do this. The elves had become very formal, and treated the arrival of a new member as a sort of ceremony.
They were ushered inside and conducted to a building; it was not a house, at the base of a large tree. Once inside, the oldest elf, named Veromen, cleared his throat to get everyone's attention.
"Young elf," he began. "Today we welcome you to your new home, and to join your kin. Boy, what is your name?"
The elf boy trembled as he gave his name. "Airelond, sir."
"Well Airelond, now you must choose your place with us. Our dear friend Mel has told us that it had become mandate that all who live here with us must choose an occupation. You have the choice between becoming expert in Art, Music, or taking up the noble study of Weaponry. Which will you choose?" Veromen fixed him with a penetrating stare, almost daring him to choose anything other than weapons training.
Airelond faltered for a second, and then quickly chose weaponry; just as Mel had known he would. Veromen smiled at him, and then hid the smile away behind a mask of formality. Mel didn't listen past then, she was stuck in her own thoughts, and didn't pull out of them until her former charge tugged on her shirt sleeve.
"Thank you, Mel," he said quietly. And he gave her a huge hug. "I must go now, and so must you. I go now to find myself a place to call my home. Come see us soon, we will be looking for you." With one last look of gratitude, he went to catch up with the senior elves, who were already a ways ahead of him. Mel watched him go, thinking.
Of late all of her visits to Lothlorien were short. Sometimes she wondered if the elves made sure they were that way. Either way, she was unwilling to stay where she was unwanted. Shaking her head, she turned around and left quietly. She had things to discuss with Owen anyway.
At the gate, she met up with Randall, the weapons master. Passing by, she gave him a clod smile and curt nod. He smiled timidly and went on his way. Mel knew it was foolish of her to dislike the weapons master so, but she couldn't help it. She knew he was only here to do his job, and that it was Owen she should be mad at, but this time her unreasonable side won out over her practical side. And on a deeper level she was kind of proud of herself. She had managed to intimidate, with her coldness and grudging formality, the hulking weapons trainer. He was about six foot three, with broad, muscular shoulders and arms. He had hazel eyes and thick, dark, curly hair. Even though she disliked the man greatly, she did concede that he was at least mildly attractive.
She put all thoughts of the weapons master out of her mind as she headed back up the road away from the forest. She had more important things to think about.
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Half an hour later, she was back at Mordor, some one, she didn't know who, had nicknamed the control building Mordor, and it had stuck. Every one knew it was stupid, but the name stuck anyway. And on an odd level, it really worked for the building. Eventually everything would be controlled from this one building.
Owen ushered Mel and Freddy into a conference room down the hall. "Hey," he began, when the door was shut and they were listening. "I am really going to need your help this week and next week. So much so that I am going to have to ask you to put down your work for the next two weeks, alright?"
Mel and Freddy exchanged perplexed glances. "What is going on?" Mel asked suspiciously. She trusted his judgment a lot less these days.
"Well, do you remember last year, right after we decided what to do with the elves—"
"You decided!" Mel cut in coldly. Owen shot her an exasperated look.
"Fine, I decided! Well, remember when I cancelled the tour for that actor and the company representative?" They both nodded. "Well, they are coming back next week. They will arrive here on Monday, and leave around Wednesday or Thursday."
Something clicked in Mel's head. "Wait, this is why you pushed back the opening, isn't it? For these people, right? Why didn't you bother to tell us? We can be trusted, you know."
Owen nodded. "Yes, that is why. I really want the benefit of these people's sponsorship in our advertising. Do you realize how much more successful we can be if we have sponsors? And we are far more likely to win their favor if they can come here and see what we have, doing something other that twiddling their thumbs all day long out of sheer boredom! And I didn't tell you because I didn't feel like hearing you, Mel, tell me that what we have here are people, not zoo animals, and that they don't deserve to be treated as such. Okay?"
Mel scowled. "You're right, that is what I would have told you. And I will still tell you. They do not deserve to be treated like zoo animals, and unlike zoo animals, they know when they're being treated like animals. They are people, and they have feelings. They do not deserve any of this!"
Now Freddy piped up. "Then let me ask you a question. Vhy do you verk here and help Owen?"
"I work here because when I was hired, I didn't know what I was getting myself into, and you had already developed the elves, hobbits and dwarves. You even had a few born. I wasn't about to let you all mishandle them. Would you leave an infant in the care of idiots? "
Freddy frowned. "Then vhy don't you leave?"
"I won't leave. I stay for their sake. If I leave, he'll find someone else who will help him do whatever he wants to do, not what's best for them." She pointed at Owen, who was glaring at her from across the table. Things were finally coming to a head, and he didn't like it one bit. He saw that she had some valid points, but he was committed to what he was doing. None of her ranting would change his mind.
"Will you still help me?" he growled. He knew she hated some of the decisions he had made recently, but he needed her help. He could not pull off the next two weeks by himself. There was too much he needed her to do before the tour group arrived.
She thought about it for a second. "Yes, I'll still help you. I have to, you're my boss, right?" She replied grudgingly. She would help, but things would have to change, and soon.
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A/N- Sorry it took so long to get it posted. I don't like this chapter so much. It started to spin out of my control, and it took a lot of fighting to get to come back to something close to manageable. Hopefully this one is the "bad" chapter. Well, tell me what you think, the review button is just down here on the left. Please review! Thanks!
Chapter 5
Disclaimer- I still don't own anything LOTR, or the concept behind the park. Don't sue... I own the human characters. Blah blah blah...
Suuki-Aldrea- I'm glad you liked it, and thank you for reviewing. Your idea was exactly what I needed. I had the hardest time putting that chapter together, and when I read your last review, the light bulb came on and I just wanted to whack myself upside the head. Besides, your reviews are such a confidence boost. Thank you, it helped a lot.
Silver Whirl- I'm glad you approve. And Bethy would enjoy that wouldn't she. I'll have to tell her. I'll put astronomy in there, but you have to help me. You're the one that's really good at coming up with the cosmic phrases.
A/N- thanks to the other people who reviewed. This chapter was also hard to put together and I'm not quite sure why. Maybe it's because I want to get to chapter six, but whatever. Here it is. Enjoy, and please review at the end! Thanks!
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Walking hand in hand with an elf child, inside Mel seethed. She was taking yet another young elf to join his kin in Lothlorien, and to choose his lifelong occupation. As soon as he could make it possible, Owen had brought in a weapons master, music teacher, and art teacher. The music and art Mel had no problem with, but she was still furious with him, now a year later, about the weapons training. He had hardly consulted with her on the issue, and only after he had picked his new employees. And she was the one person in the whole park whose opinion in the matter really counted.
She had already gotten into a screaming match with him over it, and she did not care to repeat the experience. She had explained to him, at the top of her lungs, that teaching an already malcontent set of people to use, make and maintain weapons was just asking for disaster. And he had replied, also at the top of his lungs, that this was something for them to do, and that they would be happy for it. Besides, they could always practice with each other and use wildlife passing through their forest as target practice. He hadn't listened to her when she'd tried to tell him that they were smart, and that smart people needed stimulation. Smart people became easily bored. He wouldn't listen when she'd said that they all would soon grow tired of target practice and turn to rebellion again. Only this time when they did it, they would be ten times more dangerous. In the end she had given up and left him to his stubborn dreams. She knew it was all going to come crashing down, and there was nothing she could do about it.
The young elf at her side whimpered, bringing her attention back to the here and now. She smiled at him, if somewhat grimly, trying to make him feel better. She had done this twice already since instituting the tutoring system, and held little hope that this youngster would be any different than most of his cousins. Since they had brought in the teachers, only five of sixteen elves had chosen to devote themselves to the study of art or music. All the rest had eagerly turned to weapons training, especially archery. Owen delighted in this, saying that it would be exciting for guests, but Mel was disappointed. That meant that more of them knew how to cause serious trouble when the time came for it. And Mel was sure it would come, eventually.
Few words were spoken as the psychologist escorted the little elf. They reached the gates to Lothlorien in good time, and entered in silence. They were greeted solemnly there by the whole group of elves, standing in lines and looking very much like a military unit. Mel found it unnerving every time she had to do this. The elves had become very formal, and treated the arrival of a new member as a sort of ceremony.
They were ushered inside and conducted to a building; it was not a house, at the base of a large tree. Once inside, the oldest elf, named Veromen, cleared his throat to get everyone's attention.
"Young elf," he began. "Today we welcome you to your new home, and to join your kin. Boy, what is your name?"
The elf boy trembled as he gave his name. "Airelond, sir."
"Well Airelond, now you must choose your place with us. Our dear friend Mel has told us that it had become mandate that all who live here with us must choose an occupation. You have the choice between becoming expert in Art, Music, or taking up the noble study of Weaponry. Which will you choose?" Veromen fixed him with a penetrating stare, almost daring him to choose anything other than weapons training.
Airelond faltered for a second, and then quickly chose weaponry; just as Mel had known he would. Veromen smiled at him, and then hid the smile away behind a mask of formality. Mel didn't listen past then, she was stuck in her own thoughts, and didn't pull out of them until her former charge tugged on her shirt sleeve.
"Thank you, Mel," he said quietly. And he gave her a huge hug. "I must go now, and so must you. I go now to find myself a place to call my home. Come see us soon, we will be looking for you." With one last look of gratitude, he went to catch up with the senior elves, who were already a ways ahead of him. Mel watched him go, thinking.
Of late all of her visits to Lothlorien were short. Sometimes she wondered if the elves made sure they were that way. Either way, she was unwilling to stay where she was unwanted. Shaking her head, she turned around and left quietly. She had things to discuss with Owen anyway.
At the gate, she met up with Randall, the weapons master. Passing by, she gave him a clod smile and curt nod. He smiled timidly and went on his way. Mel knew it was foolish of her to dislike the weapons master so, but she couldn't help it. She knew he was only here to do his job, and that it was Owen she should be mad at, but this time her unreasonable side won out over her practical side. And on a deeper level she was kind of proud of herself. She had managed to intimidate, with her coldness and grudging formality, the hulking weapons trainer. He was about six foot three, with broad, muscular shoulders and arms. He had hazel eyes and thick, dark, curly hair. Even though she disliked the man greatly, she did concede that he was at least mildly attractive.
She put all thoughts of the weapons master out of her mind as she headed back up the road away from the forest. She had more important things to think about.
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Half an hour later, she was back at Mordor, some one, she didn't know who, had nicknamed the control building Mordor, and it had stuck. Every one knew it was stupid, but the name stuck anyway. And on an odd level, it really worked for the building. Eventually everything would be controlled from this one building.
Owen ushered Mel and Freddy into a conference room down the hall. "Hey," he began, when the door was shut and they were listening. "I am really going to need your help this week and next week. So much so that I am going to have to ask you to put down your work for the next two weeks, alright?"
Mel and Freddy exchanged perplexed glances. "What is going on?" Mel asked suspiciously. She trusted his judgment a lot less these days.
"Well, do you remember last year, right after we decided what to do with the elves—"
"You decided!" Mel cut in coldly. Owen shot her an exasperated look.
"Fine, I decided! Well, remember when I cancelled the tour for that actor and the company representative?" They both nodded. "Well, they are coming back next week. They will arrive here on Monday, and leave around Wednesday or Thursday."
Something clicked in Mel's head. "Wait, this is why you pushed back the opening, isn't it? For these people, right? Why didn't you bother to tell us? We can be trusted, you know."
Owen nodded. "Yes, that is why. I really want the benefit of these people's sponsorship in our advertising. Do you realize how much more successful we can be if we have sponsors? And we are far more likely to win their favor if they can come here and see what we have, doing something other that twiddling their thumbs all day long out of sheer boredom! And I didn't tell you because I didn't feel like hearing you, Mel, tell me that what we have here are people, not zoo animals, and that they don't deserve to be treated as such. Okay?"
Mel scowled. "You're right, that is what I would have told you. And I will still tell you. They do not deserve to be treated like zoo animals, and unlike zoo animals, they know when they're being treated like animals. They are people, and they have feelings. They do not deserve any of this!"
Now Freddy piped up. "Then let me ask you a question. Vhy do you verk here and help Owen?"
"I work here because when I was hired, I didn't know what I was getting myself into, and you had already developed the elves, hobbits and dwarves. You even had a few born. I wasn't about to let you all mishandle them. Would you leave an infant in the care of idiots? "
Freddy frowned. "Then vhy don't you leave?"
"I won't leave. I stay for their sake. If I leave, he'll find someone else who will help him do whatever he wants to do, not what's best for them." She pointed at Owen, who was glaring at her from across the table. Things were finally coming to a head, and he didn't like it one bit. He saw that she had some valid points, but he was committed to what he was doing. None of her ranting would change his mind.
"Will you still help me?" he growled. He knew she hated some of the decisions he had made recently, but he needed her help. He could not pull off the next two weeks by himself. There was too much he needed her to do before the tour group arrived.
She thought about it for a second. "Yes, I'll still help you. I have to, you're my boss, right?" She replied grudgingly. She would help, but things would have to change, and soon.
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
A/N- Sorry it took so long to get it posted. I don't like this chapter so much. It started to spin out of my control, and it took a lot of fighting to get to come back to something close to manageable. Hopefully this one is the "bad" chapter. Well, tell me what you think, the review button is just down here on the left. Please review! Thanks!