Chapter 1
"Gandalf!" the two youngest hobbits in Imladris greeted the old Istari in
unison.
"Gandalf," Pippin started again.
"Pip, let me handle this," Merry whispered to the young Took. "Gandalf," he said louder so that the intrigued wizard could hear him, "we were just talking about the last time we had seen Bilbo, at his Birthday Party, and we remembered your wonderful fireworks! We bet there's no one in all of Middle-Earth that can make fireworks as good as you! So we were wondering if we could borrow some to set off in celebration of Frodo's recent recovery, you know, to sort of lift his spirits to keep him going?" Both of them looked at the ancient one with their most innocent looks, which weren't very convincing if you knew them at all.
Mithrandir bristled his eyebrows at them. "No, you may not 'borrow' any, because the last time you 'borrowed' one of my fireworks, you had half the Shire believing they were being attacked by Smaug incarnate. Thank you for the compliments, however." And with that he walked away.
Pippin rounded on Merry. "Leave it all to you, eh? You shouldn't have said anything about the Party! That's what he was talking about! Now what are we going to do?"
"I would think that would be obvious. We'll just have to 'borrow' one our selves."
"Good thinking, but where does he keep them, Mr. Genius?"
It ended up taking the rest of the day and all of the rest to search every place in the elven paradise they could get in to without answering awkward questions. In the end, they bribed Glorfindel into revealing the location.
"Finally!"
They both gasped at the number of fireworks hoarded there. They were of every size, shape, and color imaginable, and more besides.
"Which one should we use?" asked Merry nervously. He was afraid the wizard would walk in and turn them into something unnatural.
"The biggest one, of course!" replied Pippin excitedly.
They quickly found the biggest, brightest, and most unusually shaped firework there. The two of them could barely lift it; it was so huge. They carried it out of the room as quickly and quietly as they could back to where they had been making their cheeses. They ground it up, mixed it in, and ate everything they could find while it baked.
"Finally, it's done!" Merry gasped at the size of it. "Why, it's taller than Strider!" He reached out to touch it.
"No! Don't touch it till it's cooled!" Pippin exclaimed, afraid his cousin might damage the beautiful cheese.
"Well what are we going to do while we're waiting?" barked Merry, impatient to try their concoction.
"I heard there's a secret council being held today. Let's go figure out what it's all about."
So the hobbits ran off to spy on the council, thinking the cheese would be safe until they returned. But the cheesewheel had other plans.
**************************************************************************** ****************
The prince of Mirkwood was becoming bored with all this talk of things everyone present except the hobbits and men (excluding Aragorn) already knew. The decision of the council wasn't really what to do with the One Ring; anyone with any sense at all could see that it must be sent to Mt. Doom to be destroyed. The real question was who was going to do it, and Legolas wanted that decided soon.
Suddenly a dwarf ran forward and struck the Ring with his war axe, causing the blade to shatter, and the stupid midget to land on his butt. The blonde elf had to bite back a laugh. The idiot of a munchkin! Hadn't the prince once heard that dwarves had brains the size of someone's finger?
"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Glóin, by any craft we here possess," Lord Elrond was saying in response to the dwarf's ignorant action. Really, thought Legolas, Elrond has to stop moving his eyebrows like that. It makes him seem like that Smith guy from the story Mithrandir once told me, the Matrix. Maybe I should call him Smilrond! The blonde elf chuckled, causing the Imladris elf seated next to him to look at him disapprovingly. he abruptly turned back to the matter at hand.
"One of you must do this," the eyebrow-obsessed elf was now saying. The Council was silent for a few seconds, before a smelly man from Gondor said something about the dangers of marching into Mordor, but Legolas wasn't listening. The elf was thinking whether he should volunteer to go with whoever would bear the Ring. He certainly would not want to bear it. He was just wondering who here would be willing to take on that task when he saw something large and yellow rolling straight towards the One Ring! Thinking it to be an instrument of the Enemy, he immediately jumped between the two and whipped out his knives. The hobbit Frodo ran forward to get the Ring to safety, screaming. Legolas stood his ground as the thing rammed into him. Instead of feeling pain, he felt as if he were...floating?
"Gandalf," Pippin started again.
"Pip, let me handle this," Merry whispered to the young Took. "Gandalf," he said louder so that the intrigued wizard could hear him, "we were just talking about the last time we had seen Bilbo, at his Birthday Party, and we remembered your wonderful fireworks! We bet there's no one in all of Middle-Earth that can make fireworks as good as you! So we were wondering if we could borrow some to set off in celebration of Frodo's recent recovery, you know, to sort of lift his spirits to keep him going?" Both of them looked at the ancient one with their most innocent looks, which weren't very convincing if you knew them at all.
Mithrandir bristled his eyebrows at them. "No, you may not 'borrow' any, because the last time you 'borrowed' one of my fireworks, you had half the Shire believing they were being attacked by Smaug incarnate. Thank you for the compliments, however." And with that he walked away.
Pippin rounded on Merry. "Leave it all to you, eh? You shouldn't have said anything about the Party! That's what he was talking about! Now what are we going to do?"
"I would think that would be obvious. We'll just have to 'borrow' one our selves."
"Good thinking, but where does he keep them, Mr. Genius?"
It ended up taking the rest of the day and all of the rest to search every place in the elven paradise they could get in to without answering awkward questions. In the end, they bribed Glorfindel into revealing the location.
"Finally!"
They both gasped at the number of fireworks hoarded there. They were of every size, shape, and color imaginable, and more besides.
"Which one should we use?" asked Merry nervously. He was afraid the wizard would walk in and turn them into something unnatural.
"The biggest one, of course!" replied Pippin excitedly.
They quickly found the biggest, brightest, and most unusually shaped firework there. The two of them could barely lift it; it was so huge. They carried it out of the room as quickly and quietly as they could back to where they had been making their cheeses. They ground it up, mixed it in, and ate everything they could find while it baked.
"Finally, it's done!" Merry gasped at the size of it. "Why, it's taller than Strider!" He reached out to touch it.
"No! Don't touch it till it's cooled!" Pippin exclaimed, afraid his cousin might damage the beautiful cheese.
"Well what are we going to do while we're waiting?" barked Merry, impatient to try their concoction.
"I heard there's a secret council being held today. Let's go figure out what it's all about."
So the hobbits ran off to spy on the council, thinking the cheese would be safe until they returned. But the cheesewheel had other plans.
**************************************************************************** ****************
The prince of Mirkwood was becoming bored with all this talk of things everyone present except the hobbits and men (excluding Aragorn) already knew. The decision of the council wasn't really what to do with the One Ring; anyone with any sense at all could see that it must be sent to Mt. Doom to be destroyed. The real question was who was going to do it, and Legolas wanted that decided soon.
Suddenly a dwarf ran forward and struck the Ring with his war axe, causing the blade to shatter, and the stupid midget to land on his butt. The blonde elf had to bite back a laugh. The idiot of a munchkin! Hadn't the prince once heard that dwarves had brains the size of someone's finger?
"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Glóin, by any craft we here possess," Lord Elrond was saying in response to the dwarf's ignorant action. Really, thought Legolas, Elrond has to stop moving his eyebrows like that. It makes him seem like that Smith guy from the story Mithrandir once told me, the Matrix. Maybe I should call him Smilrond! The blonde elf chuckled, causing the Imladris elf seated next to him to look at him disapprovingly. he abruptly turned back to the matter at hand.
"One of you must do this," the eyebrow-obsessed elf was now saying. The Council was silent for a few seconds, before a smelly man from Gondor said something about the dangers of marching into Mordor, but Legolas wasn't listening. The elf was thinking whether he should volunteer to go with whoever would bear the Ring. He certainly would not want to bear it. He was just wondering who here would be willing to take on that task when he saw something large and yellow rolling straight towards the One Ring! Thinking it to be an instrument of the Enemy, he immediately jumped between the two and whipped out his knives. The hobbit Frodo ran forward to get the Ring to safety, screaming. Legolas stood his ground as the thing rammed into him. Instead of feeling pain, he felt as if he were...floating?