Okay enjoy. Just to let y'all know, I posted a character list and a map of the camp on my website. For some odd reason the 'homepage' button on my profile is not taking anyone to my site. It's a freewebs page. just type freewebs . com then my penname after it in lowercase and you'll get to it. Happy reading!
Chapter eleven
Soft Side?
The dining hall was buzzing with activity by the time Morgoth and Gwen arrived. Manwë walked behind them, knowing that there would be hundreds of copies of the picture in there. When Gwen opened the door and walked in, followed by Morgoth who still looked angry over the milk, honey, and ketchup, the campers made whistling noises. At first Gwen did not know what it was about but when she saw the picture multiplied by one hundred all over the dining hall she almost freaked.
"Don't you like the picture?" Kisha asked laughing.
Gwen's eyes went wide.
"You took a photo of that!" she exclaimed.
"I was just practicing my photography," Kisha replied with a shrug.
Mumbling some incoherent things, Gwen took a seat at the table as far away from Morgoth as she could, though she could not escape the comments that floated back and forth at the table.
"So Morgoth, since you and Gwen already had the honeymoon, when was the wedding?" Sauron asked from down the table.
"Shut up," Morgoth warned.
"How come we weren't invited to the wedding?" Thuringwethil asked.
"There was no wedding!" bellowed Morgoth.
There was then silence throughout the dining hall except faint laughter emitting from Tulkas.
"I need a beer," Gwen said sighing.
"There are to be no alcoholic beverages permitted at the camp," Kisha recited.
"Well then am I permitted to leave the camp for an hour and get something to drink?" Gwen asked.
Kisha shrugged.
"Sure, there won't be an evening activity tonight so you are allowed to leave for an hour or two," Kisha replied.
Gwen nodded.
"Good, then I am going into town. See you all in a few hours," Gwen announced as she stood up and walked out of the dining hall.
"Maybe Morgoth should go with her. I think they need a second honeymoon," Fëanor exclaimed laughing.
Morgoth shot him the very evil glare and picked up the dinner knife.
"You're going down elf!" he screamed. He looked absolutely livid. Fëanor jumped from his chair and dashed from the dining hall with Morgoth in close pursuit. Manwë remained in his chair eating a bowl of chicken soup.
"You don't mean to go after them?" Tulkas asked.
Manwë shrugged.
"The whole day I've been chasing. Fëanor can handle things for himself," Manwë replied.
It was then when they heard a very sharp evil cackle followed by a very loud scream of someone in pain.
"I'm still not getting up," Manwë announced.
--
"What can I do you for?" the bartender asked.
The pleasantly plump older gent was cleaning glasses during a lull in activity at the bar when Gwen walked in. Ye Old Pub looked like a good place to go when Gwen drove down the main street looking for a place to drink.
Gwen pulled herself up on the barstool and thought for a second.
"I'll take the strongest thing you got and then double it," she responded.
The bartender cocked his eyebrows and went to get the drink.
"Did you have a bad day or something?" he asked.
Gwen nodded.
"You could say that, it's more like the past three days have been bad," she replied.
The bartender handed her the drink.
"Thanks, how much do I owe you?" Gwen asked pulling out her wallet.
He shook his head.
"It's on the house," he said.
"Really?"
"Yes, you look like you could use a good stiff drink. This one here helps me when I'm having a bad day," the bartender replied.
"Oh, why thank you Mr?"
The bartender extended his hand.
"Mr. Bartley, James Bartley at your service."
"Well thank you Mr. Bartley. I really do need this at the moment," she said as she downed half the drink.
James put the last clean glass on the shelf and put the white cloth over the rack.
"So, why do you need such a drink today?" he asked.
Gwen sighed.
"It's a very long story. Let's just say my job has gotten a whole new workforce and there are only two people who have been there forever, my friend the director and I, well the new people are nice but there's this one guy…" she trailed off as she took another drink and then continued, "who is driving me insane. He likes to play petty pranks and today one, no actually two, almost got me killed. One was technically my fault but it was in retaliation to the one he did. So after the prank was pulled he ended up chasing me around the place until finally I was cornered on a catwalk. The thing ended up breaking and we both crashed down onto the ground and we were both out like a light. Well my friend, who found us, thought it would be a wonderful photo opportunity and so now millions of copies of this picture are now floating around work," Gwen explained. With one last gulp she finished her drink and sighed.
"Well it appears to me that someone at your work might have a crush on you," James said.
Gwen almost started gagging.
Ha! Whatever! If only he knew that the man is Morgoth the Dark Lord.
"Are you familiar with J.R.R. Tolkien Mr. Bartley?" Gwen suddenly asked after he refilled her drink and she took another big gulp.
"Why yes I am, I've always enjoyed reading a book by Tolkien. Though the movies were pretty bad if you ask me," he replied.
"So you know its history pretty well?"
"I suppose I do."
"Do you remember a certain character by the name of Morgoth?" she asked.
Mr. Bartley nodded.
"Most defiantly, it's a good thing that Arda isn't real and stuff that bad couldn't happen. Why do you ask?"
She sighed and took another drink.
"Well that's what he's like. Excluding the killing and turning elves into orcs, he's exactly like Morgoth. It's insane," Gwen replied.
"Is that so?"
Gwen nodded. "Oh yeah."
"Well then I take back my previous statement and exchange it for this: he just is a prankster. I'd match him prank for prank until he gets tired of it."
Gwen nodded. "Thanks."
Gwen looked up at the clock and saw that it was already nine o'clock. She sighed.
"Well it looks like I gotta go. I'm sure there's going to be a big day tomorrow. You know I never liked Tuesdays," Gwen said getting up.
James nodded.
"I know exactly what you mean. You have a good night and I hope tomorrow wont be as bad for you," James replied.
Gwen smiled.
"Thanks Mr. Bartley," she said.
He shook his head.
"Don't call me that. The name's James and you're welcome in this pub for a free drink anytime. We don't get many customers on week nights so it would be nice to talk to someone at night," James said.
"Why thank you James. I'll come back and visit you on weeknights," she replied.
He smiled.
"And I look forward to our next meeting. Good night ma'am," James said.
"Gwen Mosé, but Gwen to you," she replied.
"Good night then Gwen."
--
It was a little after eleven o'clock by the time Gwen pulled down the two mile dirt road that lead to camp. Even though Gwen left the bar at nine-thirty and it should have only taken an hour to get home, Gwen decided to stop off at McDonalds and get something to eat. She had turned the radio off; her head had been killing her, on the way back home and now that she was in the parking lot it was still off. Stumbling from her car, she walked across the Great Lawn in pitch black darkness. It appeared that the staff and campers alike had already gone to bed. When she entered into Lammoth the distant smell of sour milk filled her nose but it appeared as if Kisha had done a good job on getting rid of the smell. She staggered to her room and thanked Eru that she had a room on the first floor of the dorms. She opened the door without thinking to check for traps first but it didn't matter. Neither Morgoth nor Sauron did anything to the room.
Wobbling to the bed, she fell on top of it without changing into her bed clothes and she fell into an uneasy sleep.
--
The mornings in the camper dorms had not yet fallen into a routine due to the fact that it was only the second full day of camp. A few of the campers already had a morning routine which consisted of rising at seven in the morning and taking a shower at seven fifteen. Then they would change for the day and head down into the living room of their floor. The staff had a habit of buying papers for the campers and there would be four papers in each living room on their respective floors. These campers who rose early were the ones who enjoyed reading the morning paper and watching the morning television. But, as it turned out, everyone in both dorms, and in Lammoth, all awoke at the same time to the sound of very ticked off screaming. Oh it was going to be another wonderful morning at Camp Glingal.