Author's Notes: The canonical characters and setting belong to Tolkien, Tanglinna belongs to TreeHugger (or she belongs to him, one of the two).
According to WETA and the Decipher LotR card game, Aegnor is the real name of the Elf Otherwise Known As Figwit.
Ruscalarus is another deliberate butchering of Quenya, intended to translate as 'copper fox.'
Thanks to Lady LeBeau, who suggested the recycling of a line from Wings near the end of the chapter.
Thanks to TreeHugger and Dragon-of-the-north for giving this a quick read through. The latter mentioned that I should probably include the disclaimer that I am deliberately not following the definition of elven marriage laid out in the essay "Laws and Customs of the Eldar," instead asserting that elven marriages were ceremonially sworn and sealed as alluded to in Wings.
Speaking of Tree and Dragon, the paragraph wherein Tanglinna mentions his sources is deliberately boring in a silly way, primarily because I enjoy spouting academic-sounding gibberish for fun. Chapter 2 of their On Rare Occasions and Dragon's review of the last chapter inspired it.
Oh, and let me say for the record that I am not a fan of quick edit and all the new formatting stuff they've done.
Review Responses:
makoto-47: Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoy this.
Lady LeBeau: Gotta love the coconuts. And yes, I do think that Preppy!Arwen tends to be the result of fangirl or fanboy presence, as was the case here. I'm glad you're thinking of 'Tanglinna to the rescue.' You're conveniently forgetting another uncanonical addition I made…
Dragon-of-the-north: I'm not sure how to respond to that review except to say that I loved reading it.
TreeHugger: As with Dragon, I was laughing out loud as I read your review, though I'm not sure how to respond to you either, except to tell you that we are now moving on to Scene 24, which is a very nice scene with some lovely acting… Oh, and Tanglinna, I'm sure anyone would get a stomach ache watching those OCs fawn over Arwen and Aragorn.
Ceana: Thanks and I'm glad you enjoyed it.
To the Halls of Mandos in a Backpack
Chapter VIII: The Council of Insanity
(PA/N: So… sad… Aragorn… lost forever… -straightens up and wipes away her tears- Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to figure out why our chapters never get posted right and to read through this lament without crying and… Crowbait! Turn off the stupid -sob- DVD!)
(OA/N: Sheesh! Stupid bitch never wants a movie on unless it's some mushy crap that induces puking. Oh, and blame her for the title, not me.)
Love is in the Air, Chapter 8- Temporary Suicide should be an Option on Days like this
"Friends, dwarves, countrymen, lend me your pointed ears," Elrond intoned solemnly, before adding, in a significantly lighter tone, "but keep those less well-endowed." The somber voice was back before Gimli was even aware that he had been insulted. "We have come to bury the Ring in the fires of Mt.Doom, not to praise it."
Suddenly Gandalf was tugging on the Lord of Imladris' sleeve while Frodo, sitting next to the wizard, continued to stare blankly at the podium on which the Ring sat. Speaking so quietly that only one with the ears of a fox could have heard him, Gandalf whispered "Um, Elrond, you weren't supposed to tell them what we have already decided upon until after they'd heard the evidence." Elrond paled slightly and said "Oops," as Gimli sniggered to himself at the elf's embarrassment. Despite having a full night's sleep for the first time in at least a week, Elrond still looked like he was a few cells short of a dungeon, which might be the reason he had effectively told all these people he had summoned to a council that their input was not needed.
Not that Gimli minded their proposed solution. The two things that every dwarf loves more than anything else are jewelry and destruction, the latter preferably of goblins or other such evil creatures. Normally, this would have drawn him to lay claim to the gold band the Halfling had brought, but since said Halfling had been chased thither and yon by the Nine, he figured Gandalf was correct in saying that this was the One Ring, and since the One Ring could probably be considered an evil entity in its own right, he was all in favor of destroying it.
While Elrond and Gandalf consulted about what to do next, Gimli surveyed the others sitting around the semicircle. Elves easily constituted a majority of the assembly, with the locals beginning at the flank, the Mirkwood contingent next to them, and then the elves from other locations. This arrangement put the Prince of Mirkwood next to Elladan and Elrohir, whose seats next to their father had been taken by Glorfindel and Erestor because Galadriel demanded that they be punished for the way their pranking had scarred 'poor Gimli.' Nevermind that Gimli had already concluded that, based on the way Galadriel was insisting that he be treated like a prince, falling into that perfume was the best thing that had ever happened to him. What did worry Gimli was that the warring pranksters were now sitting together. Arwen was the only elf conspicuously absent. Galadriel, he had happily observed upon his arrival, had taken the chair next to his and had already identified all the elves present for his benefit. Not that he had heard a word she said, being far more entranced by the parts of her that were at or near his eye level.
On his other side were the rest of the dwarves, followed by Bilbo, Aragorn, Boromir, the old men of Dale, and finally Huchelda and Vienasar, the former looking ragged and sick, as though she had not cleaned up since her rumored fall into the stream the previous night, and the latter looking smug but with anger simmering beneath his seemingly calm features. Gimli wondered if it was a deliberate slight that those two were seated with the humans instead of the elves.
Had she been less despondent, Huchelda might have noticed that she and her brother had not been seated with the other firstborn. Unfortunately, having combined the depression of losing all opportunity to obtain her heart's desire with the chill that accompanied a night swim in a cold mountain stream, the elf felt human and looked less than human. She could no longer get into Aragorn's mind and, she had to grudgingly admit, he was far sexier when he was self-assured than when he was fawning over her. Seeing him like that only increased her longing and sense of loss.
Lost in her own sorrow, she barely listened as Elrond told the history of the rings and the Last Alliance, Bilbo related the discovery of the Ring, Gloin spoke of messengers from Sauron visiting yadda yadda yadda.
-
As Gandalf paused for a breath while giving an account of his pursuit of the Nazgul, Merry braced himself. It was coming, coming, there. With a sigh, Pippin shifted positions, this time going from sitting cross-legged to kneeling with his rear resting on his ankles. Merry smiled to himself. For over two hours, without fail, the younger Hobbit had changed position every three minutes and, for over two hours, Merry had alternated between being annoyed by his friend's fidgetiness and amused by its regularity.
From their spots behind the low wall topped with potted plants, in front of which sat The Perverted Witch and The Mattress Lover, the two Hobbits had observed the morning's proceedings. Pippin was extremely bored but, after having shouted at Gandalf over being denied a seat in the council, was too proud to admit that Merry's suggestion (that they raid the storerooms while everyone else was conferring) was superior.
Merry actually found the events being spoken of somewhat interesting. He wasn't carefully noting Elrond's every word for the historical record, as Sam was from his spot in a bush behind the Rivendell elves, but, as he had an interest in his own family history, he figured there were many worse ways for him to spend a morning.
His tale now completed, Gandalf sat down. Pippin whispered in Merry's ear "I hope they're going to start debating now. I want to pick up some good elvish curses and insults to use back home." Merry grinned. The reason Pippin had wanted so much to come to the council was that Elladan had told the Hobbits that the debate over what to do about the Ring would probably be quite contentious and, given Elrond's ongoing weariness, might even include some expletives. Though Merry was not as visibly enthusiastic as Pippin, he too was looking forward to being able to call Fatty Bolger a 'stupid ass' in a language other than Westron.
Both were thus somewhat disappointed when Elrond wearily said, "And now, for a presentation regarding our more," he glanced toward those sitting in front of the Hobbits, "immediate crisis, Tanglinna of Mirkwood." No one looked particularly enthusiastic, but all the elves in particular regarded this silver-haired elf coldly, leaving the Hobbits to wonder what he had done to irritate every other member of his race present.
Vienasar wondered what the strange silver-haired elf had to say about him and his sister. It couldn't be as boring as all the stuff everyone else had related. Honestly, if he really cared about all that, he would have paid attention to the boring parts of the books. With a groan, he slouched even lower in his chair. He had thought that the council would be less than ten minutes of debate, followed by the choosing of the Fellowship (of which he and Huchelda would be a part). He had really wanted to spend the rest of the morning trying to figure out ways to shag Arwen that wouldn't involve him forcing her, since that wouldn't be anywhere near as much fun as consensual pleasure. Next to him, his sister muttered "Who is this Tanglinna? He isn't canonical."
She must have been a bit louder than she intended, because Tanglinna walked over, leaned close so only the two of them could hear, and said "So? Neither are you." Vienasar paled as Tanglinna turned around. He had been assuming that he and Huchelda were the only characters around who weren't in the books. He looked around, worried that this Tanglinna might have already liberated Arwen. As soon as there was another change of speaker, he would slip out to change the wards to something more restrictive.
"Elves and gentlemen of the council, Rivendell is faced with a threat that, while not intimately tied to the Ring, could have a profound effect on its disposition. This council has been infiltrated by the worst sort of NOLDOR!" He punctuated this exclamation once again explicitly singling out the twins with a gesture. There was an instant of silence, during which Tanglinna's face fell, going from an appearance of triumph to one similar to that of a comedian who had just told what he thought was his best joke and gotten no audience reaction. Then several of the elves, led by Galadriel and Elrond's twins, began laughing uproariously, while the dwarves and most of the men continued to look at Tanglinna blankly.
Over the noise, Legolas smirked at his fellow Mirkwood elf. "I do believe that we're surrounded by the worst sort of Noldor." Tanglinna was muttering what sounded like "Gah! That's not what I meant," as the cacophony crescendoed again. As the din died down, Erestor finally caught his breath enough to comment "They're Noldor. So what?" Finally having an individual target, Tanglinna whirled and advanced on Elrond's advisor, who calmly met Tanglinna's piercing gaze. "These are no mindless rabble of Noldor. These are Feanorians! Their pride is thick and their audacity broad."
The elves continued to look skeptical and slightly contemptuous, but Aragorn nodded thoughtfully and, having not been alive for the various incidents that had gotten Tanglinna removed from the Yule card lists of most of the assembled elves, stood to defend Mirkwood's archer. "It's possible. Consider that the female was foolishly set on obtaining my love, something that she considers hers but to which another's claim is far greater, and she had no qualms about creating havoc and harming others in her attempt to get it. Not to mention," he added with a glance at his future grandmother-in-law, "she has very little respect for an individual's mental autonomy."
Despite the nature (and truth, Vienasar noted) of this attack, Huchelda in her depressed state made no move to defend herself, and he certainly had no intention of doing so. In addition to the fact that an objection would merely delay his opportunity to go see Arwen again (and prevent Tanglinna from rescuing her), he also took great pleasure in seeing Huchelda's object of affection attack her so. For all her skepticism, it still seemed almost certain that he would soon get Arwen while she now had no chance with Aragorn.
Tanglinna smiled at the ranger, who had successfully caught everyone's attention, and continued. "Furthermore, she is totally obsessed with excessively gaudy jewelry. Consider this, which she attempted to give to Aragorn last night," he said, drawing forth a pendant so large, shiny, and tasteless that the Ringwraiths would probably turn and flee from the sight of it. "Based on the unaccounted-for disappearance of materials from Rivendell's smithy that match those present in this, I believe it likely that she crafted this while here, presumably taking advantage of a workshop superior to that of her supposed home. She thus abused Lord Elrond's hospitality and revealed the extent of her desire for glowing gems."
Elrond, with tiredness and interest warring in his features, was the first to ask the obvious question. "I'll readily admit that her behavior is reminiscent of a branch of the family that I would just as soon forget." He shuddered, remembering that it had been rumored that Feanor's sons partook in various relationships of the same nature as the one which Huchelda had tried to force him and Gandalf into. "But I was under the impression that the line of Feanor was long extinct."
"You are correct, Lord Elrond, as far as the legitimate line is concerned. However, not all descendants need have been conceived in sworn and sealed marriage."
"I can believe that these are bastards, but where is your proof?"
"The male claimed to have served under Maedhros at Dagor Bragollach, killing a Balrog before himself dying. He refused to say anything of either his return to Arda or his parentage, which made me wonder. I began scouring Elrond's library to see if there were any references to a bastard fathered by Maedhros."
"Thranduil's Master Archer spending time in the library?" Legolas interrupted. "Are you sure they haven't corrupted your mind as well?" While everyone laughed, Vienasar fought with himself. On the one hand, he could refute everything Tanglinna said by simply stating that he was lying about being alive in the First Age. On the other hand, he absolutely hated admitting that he was wrong and there was no guarantee that they would believe him anyway. As Tanglinna would have predicted, his pride carried the field and he stayed silent.
Tanglinna continued, hoping to win some supporters by demonstrating more knowledge of Elrond's library than most of Rivendell's residents. "I found four mentions of Maedhros' bastard. The Chronicle of the Children of Feanor, which as you all know is one of the accounts more sympathetic to those… villains, asserts that Maedhros fathered a daughter on one of servants, with both mother and daughter being killed by orcs shortly after the child was born. Customs of the Noldor, which was of course written in Menegroth and edited after the fall thereof and thus has the cor…" He caught himself before saying 'correct,' knowing how many Noldor were present and would take serious offense at that assertion, "a more critical view of the Feanorians, says that the bastard girl was born to the sister of Ruscalarus, an officer under Maedhros who, fearing that the Silmaril-obsessed Lord would have his own daughter killed if she were found, took her and raised her alongside his own children. Of the Days of Sorrow, written in Mithlond in the early years of the Second Age, says that Maedhros had a bastard of unspecified gender who was taken by orcs and presumably killed or corrupted. Lastly, Fragment XVI of the Himring Lay of Feanor says that Ruscalarus raised fraternal twins born to his sister following her forbidden but passionate romance with Maedhros. Furthermore, the name of Ruscalarus does not appear anywhere in the Official Casualty Rosters for the First Age, making it possible that he survived and migrated to unknown territories in the east. What I suggest is that Ruscalarus changed his name to Ralas and that his supposed children are actually the twin children of Maedhros."
A brief instant of silence met this proclamation and then everyone started talking at once. Finally Gandalf's voice emerged from the chaos. "Why should we believe The Lay of Feanor over the sources that say it was a girl? Considering how rarely The Chronicle agrees with Customs of the Noldor, there would have to be compelling evidence to say that both are wrong."
Tanglinna responded "I can offer you no such compelling evidence, but I think it likely that the birth of an heir to Maedhros would be kept a very close secret, while that of a daughter might not be as closely guarded. If it became known that there was a daughter and she had died, it would both keep suspicious people from digging any deeper and protect the boy from being discovered."
Gandalf nodded in response and Vienasar began to zone out as Tanglinna answered more questions, most of them dealing with the sources more than the conclusions.
Tanglinna's gladness that people were believing and paying attention to him descended into annoyance as the questions about his research kept coming. Finally, the Hobbit Frodo, whose rumbling stomach seemed to have brought him back from his Ring-induced stupor, asked the question Tanglinna had been hoping for. "So what does this have to with the Ring? As interesting as conducting elvish source criticism is, I would much rather settle the matter at hand and move on to second breakfast."
Choosing to ignore the latter half of those remarks, Tanglinna answered "My fear is that, because they are Feanorian and the Ring is a magically powerful piece of jewelry, they might try to take it for themselves."
Vienasar scoffed. For all Tanglinna's worries, he was never even tempted to take the Ring. He remembered that those who did take it or consider taking it became unfortunately obsessed with it, and that obsession led them to forsake their normally good dispositions and do cruel or evil things for its sake. No, he would never allow himself to succumb to such an obsession…
However, fearing that any further delay would keep him from getting to Arwen as soon as possible, he decided to forestall any further discussion of Tanglinna's assertion by standing up. "Fear not, Mister Tanglinna, I have no desire to take the Ring."
Gimli turned, surprised that the bastard was finally responding to Tanglinna's allegations, but as soon as he had spoken, Vienasar strode out of the council at a fast pace. Gimli snickered, recognizing the pace of his walk as the one that tall folk used when they couldn't get to the indoor plumbing fast enough.
As Tanglinna headed back to his seat, Gimli reflected on what had been a thoroughly dull morning. Elvish history, he had found, had nothing on a good retelling of one of the epic battles between dwarves and goblins and the only thing interesting about Galadriel's commentary on the council was that she was whispering it in his ear. He had spent much of the time daydreaming visions of how Galadriel kept herself occupied during this long separation from her husband and wondering if he could perhaps help her make the time pass more swiftly.
Vienasar's rash declaration and sudden exit startled Huchelda. Why should they rule out the possibility of claiming the Ring, given that it might help them gain the attention of their respective loves? She was so despondent that she would have given almost anything for a hug from any one of these at least somewhat attractive characters. As Tanglinna sat down, she looked more closely at Legolas sitting next to him and decided that perhaps his legions of fangirls did have a point. And being canonically unattached, he might be more receptive to her advances.
Before she could contemplate how to gain his trust, Arwen came bursting into the midst of the council, looking as pissed as… actually, Huchelda could not complete that statement. She had never seen anyone looking remotely as mad as the object of her brother's desire did at that moment. It was quite frightening.
She strode across, grabbed Aragorn's arm, and pulled him to his feet. He looked a bit scared himself, but without a word she pulled him into a fierce hug. As the envious Huchelda watched the couple, she noticed the squirrel hopping off Arwen's shoulder and heading back to Legolas. Elladan and Elrohir got up to hug their sister as well and asked her what had happened. "That (censored!)"
Elrond winced upon hearing his daughter, of all people, utter an expletive so foul that even he had never spoken or heard it spoken aloud.
Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other and grinned, their respect for their sister having increased tenfold.
Aragorn made a mental note to never piss off his future wife.
Tanglinna raised an eyebrow. Though a respected curse artist, he had never learned the really high end Quenya expletives, but he had the feeling that he would never hear one better.
Frodo's stomach rumbled.
Galadriel was unsure whether to be disappointed at her granddaughter's potty mouth or thrilled at this sudden turn of events. She had once unwisely used that word during an invective against the Valar and they had prohibited her from returning to the West until another dared utter it aloud. Now that her granddaughter had done so, she could cross one more thing off the list of restrictions placed on her return.
Legolas idly translated it into Sindarin, grimacing as he caught its full implications and realized that his father had once called Tanglinna almost the same thing.
Glorfindel wondered if the best way to defeat Sauron might not just be to let Arwen curse at him.
Bilbo began to contemplate how to work that word into another song about Vienasar.
Gandalf sighed, realizing that he could have made his entire speech in Black Speech and no one would have cared as long as Arwen had spoken before him.
Boromir wondered why everyone looked so shocked that the lovely Arwen had spoken in Elvish.
Erestor groaned, realizing that Arwen's interjection meant that he lost the bottle of wine he had bet on Elrond being the first one to curse at the council. Haldir, having supported the field, could party well tonight.
Sam fought the urge to run up and cover Frodo's virgin ears.
Gimli continued to stare at Galadriel.
Merry threw a hand over Pippin's mouth, just in time to prevent his cry of exultation at hearing such a wondrous expletive from giving away their position.
Huchelda rolled her eyes at Arwen's coarse language but concluded that, if she was indeed referring to Vienasar, the description was apt. Taking a deep breath, Arwen continued. "That scum took me from my bed, threw me in one of Father's cells, and put some spell on it that kept everyone from entering, promising that I would not leave until I submitted to his filthy advances. I was afraid that I was doomed. Just a few minutes ago, my salvation arrived in the form of a squirrel. Nutsy crawled through the window and managed, with his teeth and claws, to unlock the door."
Throwing a grateful glance at Legolas, Arwen continued by addressing her grandmother. "You gave me this," she said, drawing a knife from her belt, "saying that it would protect me against all unwanted advances." She turned to look at Huchelda. "I swear that, should he so much as look at me funny, be he invincible or no, the Dagger of the Noldorin will make him sing soprano. Tell him that." Frightened by the menace exuding from Arwen, Huchelda fled to find her brother.
As Arwen gestured for Boromir and the men of Dale to scoot down so she could sit next to Aragorn, Elrond sighed "What are we going to do about them?" Tanglinna nodded. "Something must be done." Galadriel began "Rumil and Orophin are bringing the weapon that can kill them…" Boromir interrupted, and it was his voice that eventually commanded everyone's attention.
"Why should we kill them? Why not use them to help us? In a dream, I saw the Eastern sky grow dark, but two stars shot out of it flying into the West, where a pale light lingered. A voice cried:
Seek the line that was broken;
With poor Elrond it dwells.
There sit, by bad feats proven,
Those stronger than Morgul spells.
There lies, amongst elves drunken,
The doom quite near at hand,
For Arda's Bane has woken:
The bastards forth shall stand.
"I tell you, they are a gift, a gift to the foes of Mordor. Give Gondor these elves of insanity. Let us use them against Sauron!"
Aragorn shook his head. "You cannot wield them. They answer to their sex drives alone and have no other masters."
Gandalf concurred. "They are altogether evil. We cannot use them"
Boromir was not to be deterred. "Then we can give them the Ring, let them wield it against him."
Elrond responded in what he hoped was a definitive tone. "No. No one save the Dark Lord can use it. Neither can we hide it from him indefinitely or send it to Valinor. It must be destroyed."
The silence was so thick that it would probably be easier to decapitate an orc with a nail file than break the stillness. Nonetheless, Haldir managed to do so, standing and inquiring "Sounds great, but how are we going to do it?"
After another extended bout of silence, Elrond spoke again. "It's fairly obvious isn't it? We send a small band of warriors on a precision strike to MountDoom, eluding all manner of unpleasant pursuit in the process, where they will proceed to cast the Ring into the fire and may or may not come out alive. I'm sure that Frodo will agree to carry the Ring for such a mission."
"Will I get lunch sooner if I agree?"
"Yes."
"Then I will take it."
Gandalf committed himself to travel with Frodo as long as the Hobbit brought along enough pipeweed to keep him high for the entire journey.
Aegnor stood up. "Would it not be simpler to have Gwaihir come here and fly Frodo and Mithrandir to Mordor? It would be faster, less risky, and have an even greater element of surprise."
Elrond paused for a minute. Yes, that solution was both logical and potentially more effective than his current proposal, but there must be some flaw in it. It was too easy. In fact, that was its flaw. "No. An enthusiastic youngling like yourself might think such a plan brilliant, but it is too easy; Sauron will be expecting something like that. So are there any others who will join Frodo and Mithrandir on their quest?"
Silence again. "Legolas? There are some lovely forests you can visit on the way." The elf in question looked dubious, but Tanglinna said something persuasive to him, presumably reminding him of the opportunity to get away from his father for a few months. As Legolas walked over to stand with the Hobbit and the wizard, Elrond saw Elrohir distinctly mouth "The truce is off," to which the prince nodded.
Surveying the assembly for his next target, Elrond noticed that his mother-in-law was once again giving that dwarf looks that too closely resembled the looks Celebrian used to give him. "Master Gimli? Your, um, expertise in goblin-slaying might be appreciated." When the dwarf made no move to answer, Elrond decided to twist the knife in deeper. "I mean, if you aren't up to it, I'm sure your father would serve just as well." That quickly, Gimli had joined the other three.
Elrond looked at his foster son, but he only twitched his head in the direction of Arwen. He sighed. Much as it pained him to do this, "Aragorn, I'll let my daughter go with you if you'll take up the shards of Narsil against Sauron." As the two of them got up, Boromir stood up as well. "Since I have to go back to Gondor anyway, I might as well accompany you." Galadriel added "The same goes for me and my company."
Elrond looked at the group beside him and decided that it was good. "You shall be the…"
"Ohmigod it's FIGWIT!" Huchelda screamed, glomping poor Aegnor. As Elladan and Elrohir pried her off her victim, Vienasar simply said "We're coming too."
From the bushes, Sam emerged and, with a look of loathing directed toward the twins, announced his intention not to let Frodo travel anywhere without him. From the other side, Merry and Pippin came out, declaring that such chaos would need fitting comic relief.
Sighing at the eighteen or so assembled before him (he couldn't remember how many elves were with Galadriel), one of whom was still struggling to get her hands on Aegnor, Elrond made his proclamation. "Very well. You shall be the Expedition to the South."