Title:
Cram Grackers
Author: DarkPhoenixBC
Rating:
PG
Chronology: While the Fellowship is leaving, elsewhere
in Lorien…
Summary: Lembas is definitely better than
Cram…grackers!
Disclaimer: I didn't write LOTR, The
Hobbit, Silmarillion, or anything like that. I'm a pathetic,
nonworking-thusly-unpaid sometimes fanfic author only! All is owned
by The Almighty Tolkien Estate, as well as those guys who published
the books, and stuff...
Notes: This doesn't 'mean to
imply that Elves don't know about cram or anything. The Plazanites
have proven Elves are the second best species of cooks in Middle
Earth, under most circumstances. (Such as when we are not smashing
Randomly Generated Orc Enemies with our pots and pans.)
Also, I am the King of randomly weird "Elvish" names. And I am only a few people away from the throne of the "King of throwing random phrases in multiple languages into fanfiction".
Helwailin
– "pale blue pool"
Laurëatyuru – "golden
cheese"
Á panta – "open"
sáva
– "juice"
CRAM
GRACKERS
Helwailin pulled himself onto the talan with ease and, smiling, threw a small wrapped package at his friend, Laurëatyuru. The other Elf caught it with ease, and gave a confused look to his laughing partner. "Á panta!" he commanded, brushing back an errant strand of blond hair. Laurëatyuru did so, and found a pack of breadlike things. "Coimas? You brought me waybread?"
Helwailin laughed again, making Laurëatyuru and several small inconspicuous woodland creatures extremely uncomfortable. "Try it! Go on, eat!" he encouraged, and, as if he needed help, raised the other Elf's hand to his mouth, annoyingly pushing the food against his lips. Laurëatyuru shrugged him off, then took a tentative nibble. "Not lembas." He mumbled around a crumbled bit. Suddenly, he spat it out. "Gah! That's definitely not lembas!" he exclaimed, trying to clear his mouth. Helwailin was trying hard not to fall off the talan in his amusement. "Tyuru your face!" he cried. Laurëatyuru did not find it as funny. "Idiot. Give me some sáva." Still chortling, Helwailin handed his companion a small flask of red juice.
"What was that, Ailin?" Laurëatyuru asked after a drink. "It came from the visitors. The little ones called it 'cram grackers', or something." "Cram…" Laurëatyuru looked at the bit in his hand, then tossed it over his shoulder, to fall to the ground far below. "Must be a mortal thing." He said dismissively.
"The dwarf's reaction to our lembas was almost completely opposite to yours." Helwailin said, still grinning madly. Laurëatyuru made a rude sound. "Well, that just goes to show how different we are. Aren't they gone yet?" he asked, taking another drink. "The Lady said they will be gone by Dawn. Why? So eager to get rid of them?" Helwailin asked in reply. "What do YOU think? Two Men, four little… things… a Dwarf, and one of our kin from the Mirkwood, trespassing our fair wood and bringing something that terrifies the Lady? You think I'd be HAPPY?" Helwailin laughed aloud again. "You are too serious, tôr. But there is something else. The Lady would like to see us tomorrow as well…"
I Tyel! (No really, it is!)
---------------------------------------
Updated
8/13/05
For any of you who read the original before I got smarter
about how stupid I am, yes, I had three different Elvish languages
going on here. I think I've pretty much fixed that up now. But such
a short fic doesn't deserve so many notes.
And for those of you
who read and said "WTF was that?"... I trust you daren't call
yourself a True Fan?