Disclaimer: I don't own any of Lord of the Rings, books or movies. You wanna sue me? Well then, um, while you're at it, sue the next guy/girl over too. She doesn't own it either. And I don't sell anything. Heck, I'm not even on eBay! hehe.

Chapter 12: Eyebrow Waggling

RECAP

"Over the river and through the woods and around the mountains and over the hills and across the plains and in the dirt to Denethor's house WE GO!"

Gandalf scowled.

END RECAP

As Shadowfax the Porsche crested The Hill, Pippin looked down in awe at the spectacularity of the Gondor Super 8.

Eru: aaaarrrrggghhhh! Drop the Super 8 joke!

…..

As Shadowfax the Porsche crested The Hill, Pippin looked down in awe at the glimmering marble of Gondor's capital, Minas Tirith.

"Minas Tirith," said Gandalf grandly, "the City of Kings."

Somehow, they jumped instantly into the city, and were suddenly speeding through the streets, up through the Seven Levels, the air getting thinner and thinner as they steadily gained altitude.

As they "surfaced" at the top of the city, Gandalf encountered a problemmo. There were stairs. Now, everyone should know that you can't very well drive a car up a flight of stairs, not to mention that Shadowfax had somehow managed to run to completely empty on gas, and now refused to go anywhere.

So, they had to leave the gleaming white car locked to a bike rack at the bottom of the stairs. Gandalf dearly hoped that there were no prowling car-thieves in Minas Tirith.

As the two pedestrians walked past the White Tree in the Citadel courtyard, Pippin, once again playing the fool, pointed in the opposite direction, towards the other side of the courtyard.

"It's a swingset! Gandalf! Gandalf!" he alerted the wizard, and promptly ran over and made the swingset useful.

"Fool of a Took!" thundered the wizard. "Now get off that swingset and come with me!"

Pippin merely grinned. "Push me, Gandalf! C'mon! I'm only twenty-eight, I need someone to push me!" said the silly hobbit.

Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in Gandalf's head. He smiled a big smile, put down his staff, and walked to behind the swing that Pippin was sitting on. As he went out of Pippin's sight, he suddenly grabbed the hobbit by both feet and flipped him over and out of the swing, whereupon Pippin was subdued enough to follow him (but not without a subtle poking of Gandalf's backside when he bent over to retrieve his staff).

As they walked up the stairs to the great doors leading to the throne room, Gandalf explained the gravity of Pippin's misconduct:

"Yes, Pippin, that is a swingset: the White Swingset of Gondor. The Swingset of the King. Lord Denethor, however, is not the king. He is a Steward only, a caretaker of the throne.

"Now listen carefully," he continued as they reached the doors. "You cannot use that swingset, and neither can Lord Denethor. It is the King's Swingset, to be used only by the King. Now, listen more carefully. Lord Denethor is Boromir's father. To give him news of his lovely son's death would be most unwise.

And don't mention Frodo or the Ring.

And say nothing of Aragorn either.

In fact, it's better if you don't speak at all, Peregrin Took."

Pippin nodded gravy. Er, gravely.

As the great doors swung open, the hobbit and the wizard heard a strange noise: silence. Silence, except for that one strange noise: it sounded like the soft beating of many small wings, or perhaps more like a dying food processor.

Gandalf waggled his eyebrows, and said angrily, "Vanity, vanity! All is turned to vain ambition!"

For, there, in the middle of the throne room, right smack dab in front of the Throne, was Denethor. In myriad royal robes and furs, red-faced, puffing and blowing. On a Nordic Trak.

For a while, all they did was stand and stare (the latter applying more to Pippin), until the great Lord of Gondor, still red-faced, puffing and blowing, stepped off the exercise machine and crumpled in a heap on the floor, and was picked up by several servants and placed, with Boromir's horn, in his royal seat.

Only now did Gandalf dare to enter, Pippin trailing behind. "Hail, Denethor, Son of Ecthelion, Lord and Stupid of Gondor," he projected pompously.

"Hail? Do you really think so? I thought it was rather fine weather myself," he said, looking nervously about him and out the high windows. Only then did he seem to recover and remember his part, swiftly changing his countenance to a stern glower and staring into his lap once more.

Gandalf was a bit stunned by all of this, but he too managed to recover his wits just in time, apparently trying to reassure the monarch by continuing with "I come with tidings in this dark hour, and with counsel," and on the last word he waggled his eyebrows some more.

"Before we begin, I was just wondering," Gandalf said, almost aside, "Dude, what's with the Nordic Trak?"

"You did not come to ask this," Denethor glowered. "Although, perhaps you come to explain this"- he took out of his lap a split banana – "Perhaps you come to tell me why my son is dead."

Pippin looked on, almost in horror. Yes, it was a few weeks older, yes, it was most definitely rotten, but it was still the same banana: Boromir had carried it. He had once told Pippin why he carried it, too: he had said that if global warfare broke out, he'd still have some sustenance from that banana.

"Boromir died to save us," said the poor hobbit, "my kinsman and me. He fell defending us from many shoes." Pippin knelt before Denethor, and said slowly, "I offer you my service, in payment of this debt."

"Then this is my first command to you," said Denethor. "My Bo-Bo was a big strong boy! How is it that he was overcome, his sustaining banana cloven in two?"

"The biggest boys can be killed by just one shoe, and Boromir was hit by waaaay too many," answered Pippin, slightly perturbed.

"Get up," chided a disgusted wizard, while whacking the hobbit on the butt with his staff to get him back for earlier. "My lord, there will be a time to grieve for Boromir, but it is not now. War is coming."

Denethor remained silent, glowering into his lap.

"The Enemy is on your doorstep! As Steward, you are charged with the defense of this city! Where are Gondor's armies!"

Denethor remained silent, glowering into his lap, and occasionally whispering, "nice doggy!"

Gandalf continued anyway, "You still have friends. You are not alone in this fight. Send word to Théoden of Rohan. Light the Beacons."

Suddenly, Denethor looked up, still with the glower-that-could-give-you-a-wedgy look. "You think you are wise, Mithrandir, but for all your subtleties, you have not wisdom. Do you think that guys from the White Tower are blind? I have seen more than you know. With your left hand, you would use me as a shield against Mordor, and with your right, you seek to supplant me! I know who rides with Théoden of Rohan. Oh yes, word has reached my ears of this Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and I tell you now, I will not bow to this (dirty-scraggly-messy-nasty-greasy-wild) Ranger from the North, last of a ragged house long bereffft of lordship!"

Gandalf's eyebrows were starting to waggle dangerously again. "Authority is not given to you to deny the Return of the King, Steward! Besides, it's now a major motion picture hit! They'd sue you, Steward!" he spat.

Pippin was starting to get bewuzzled as Denethor's eyebrows began to waggle too.

"The rule of Gondor is MINE, and no other's!" the Steward yelled hysterically.

Gandalf's eyes stopped waggling, and he hastened down the long hallway and back out the great doors, saying once again to Pippin, "all is turned to vain ambition! Come!"

P.O.V. of an unidentified courtier present for this exchange:

"Yikes!"

Reviewer Responses

RedDevil15: hahahahaha indeed! Wow! And I'm really sorry I didn't update sooner, hopefully you've been too busy to check anyway (hides under desk)

Legolas's Girl 9: I was kidding you, but here's Thorndike Barnhart's on "monosyllabic": 1) having only one syllable. 2) consisting of a word or words of one syllable: "No, not now" is a monosyllabic reply. Glad you think it's funny.

fetch-thranduilion: no, I've never read the Hitchhiker books. Thanx for your review.

Snodgrass Winkle: that's okay!

Author's Note: I hope this is a satisfactory chapter to make up for the long wait ;( . Do forgive me! I'll probably be updating more often now that summer's over, and in fact I have the next chapter mostly formulated, and that should be out by the end of the week. 'til then

Archie