Date With a Dwarf

"Did I ever tell you fellows about the time my old dad sent me to a summer camp for fat kids?" Sam asked. He drank heavily from his can of beer and grabbed a new one once it was empty. "Now I won't deny that I was a little on the chubby side, but that's a bit harsh, don't you think?"

"At least he had your best interests in mind," said Faramir. "My dad sent me to as many camps as possible just to get rid of me, while Boromir got to stay home and watch TV all day."

Pippin patted Faramir on the back and handed him a beer. "Dad thought his kids were too good for any summer camp, but I was stuck playing with girls all the time. My sisters turned me into their personal dress-up doll."

"You all had it so easy," Legolas moaned. "My dad actually ran a summer camp when I was younger. He wrote all the campfire songs himself and was always prancing around drunk and he finally scared all the elflings away. It was so embarrassing."

The four of them sat in a circle on the floor of Pippin's bedroom with a substantial amount of alcohol surrounding them, though Legolas had already guzzled down an entire six-pack and wasn't even buzzed yet. "You're lucky this isn't elven brew," he informed the rest of them when he was questioned about it. "This man-made stuff doesn't affect me."

Faramir cracked open the beer Pippin had handed him, gazed into it for a moment, and then gave it back to the hobbit. "You can have it, Pip. I can't drink too much tonight."

"Why not, sir, Mr. Faramir sir?" asked Sam, who was already a bit tipsy.

"My brother and I are hosting a dinner in a couple of hours. Boromir's best friend is coming over and he's bringing his sister."

"So you're desperate, I see," said Pippin.

"No, I just want to make a good impression, that's all. Dad has never believed in my ability to impress women."

"Sometimes my dad dresses up as a woman," Legolas said very quietly. "When he's in a drunken haze, of course. It frightens the neighbors."

"You poor soul," said Sam. He clumsily patted Legolas on the hand and fumbled for another beer can. "You poor, poor soouuul."

"So who's the lucky lady you're meeting tonight?" asked Pippin, nudging Faramir with his elbow.

"Eowyn," Faramir said with a faraway, starry look in his eyes. "Beautiful name, isn't it?"

"Oh yeah, Merry knows her and her brother. He works for their uncle Theoden down at the police station."

"Really? Is she nice? Is she pretty? Does she like tofu turkey and organic lettuce?" Faramir demanded.

"I've never met her, but Merry says she's pretty cute," said Pippin, nudging Faramir again. "You should go after her, buddy."

Sam teetered unsteadily for a few moments and then promptly passed out on the floor, interrupting the conversation. "Poor little guy can't hold his liquor, just like Dad," said Legolas, shaking his head sadly.

Haldir looked at his watch and cursed out loud. It was nearly seven o'clock, which meant he had to head over to Gimli's house and wouldn't get to finish reading the chapter of his novel (All That is Gold Does Not Glitter by the talented Mr. Frodo Baggins of course). He was thinking about joining the Frodo Baggins Fan Club since he had a whole shelf of books written by the literary little hobbit, but that would have to wait until he finished his Super Secret Spy Mission.

He wasn't sure what to wear on a Super Secret Spy Mission, so he tied his hair back with his lucky hair tie and threw on a black jacket raided from Rumil's closet, then set off for Celeborn and Galadriel's neighborhood. It didn't take long to spot a little stone house with garden gnomes in the yard, just several houses away from Celeborn and Galadriel's home, and Haldir hid himself up in a tree across the street.

A glance at his watch told him it was seven o'clock sharp. All he had to do was wait.

Since Haldir was an incredibly lucky elf who always landed in the very best situations, a squirrel decided to scurry across a branch and land right on Haldir's shoulder, which caused him to scream like a girl and fall out of the tree just as Galadriel was walking down the sidewalk across the street.

Haldir's arms and legs were aching and he spat out a mouthful of grass as he slowly raised himself from the ground. Galadriel stopped walking and gazed across the street at him with her best I-Am-Your-Boss-and-You-Will-Worship-the-Ground-I-Walk-On face.

"Haldir, what are you doing?"

Faramir was nervous. He was also upset because Boromir wouldn't let him make a tofu turkey for dinner and insisted on having pasta, even though he knew about Faramir's low carb diet. It was either pasta or pork ribs (which may or may not have come from one of the neighbor's pets), so Faramir settled for pasta and insisted on making an organic tomato sauce to go with it. "Where's Dad?" he asked Boromir, glancing around anxiously as he set the dining room table.

"He's shut up in his bedroom watching the evening news," Boromir replied. "You know how addicted he is to that stuff."

Faramir forced himself to relax a little and pulled out the roses he bought from Wal-Mart yesterday. He had been watering them every few hours to keep them fresh and felt quite proud of himself for picking them out, though Boromir was staring at them as if they were crawling with maggots.

"What's that?" asked Boromir.

"What's what?" said Faramir.

"You know." Boromir gestured at the flowers clutched in Faramir's hand. "That."

"This is a lovely bouquet of roses for the lovely lady who's coming over tonight."

Boromir threw his head back and burst out laughing, as if Faramir had told a hilarious joke. "Dude, you can't give Eowyn flowers. She's going to think you're a weak-minded sissy who sits indoors reading Shakespeare all day and munches on carrot sticks between plays."

"But… but, Boromir…" said Faramir, turning pale. "I do sit indoors reading Shakespeare and munching on carrot sticks between plays. It's both educational and nutritious!"

"Sorry, little brother, but—" Suddenly the doorbell rang, interrupting Boromir's attempt at brotherly advice, and Faramir was left standing awkwardly with the roses in his hand as Boromir rushed off to answer the door. Boromir soon returned to the dining room with Eomer, who had been his best friend ever since they shared a room at Minas Tirith University, and Eomer's sister Eowyn, the most beautiful girl Faramir had ever seen and the first girl he had eaten dinner with since a birthday party he attended when he was twelve.

Faramir was pretty sure the fly of his jeans was down, but now wasn't the time to zip it up.

"Hey, Faramir buddy," said Eomer, slapping Faramir on the back and shaking his hand so hard he nearly tore it off. Eomer had been on nearly every sports team imaginable all through high school and college, and Faramir felt helplessly bookish and nerdy in comparison. "Have you met my sis yet? This is Eowyn."

"Sweets to the sweet," Faramir said as he handed the roses to Eowyn.

Eowyn frowned. "Is that a line from a movie or something?"

"It's from Shakespeare," said Faramir, pouting a little.

"Never seen it."

Faramir wanted to argue that Shakespeare was a gifted playwright, not a movie, but he caught sight of Boromir's amused face and thought better of it. Despite the fact that Eowyn didn't know Shakespeare and looked wholly unimpressed by the roses, Faramir was still determined to woo her and led her to the very best seat at the table, the only one that Denethor hadn't accidentally dropped a burning match on.

"Hope you guys don't mind pasta," said Boromir. "Maybe we can have pork ribs some other night?"

Eomer and Eowyn both looked completely heartbroken at being denied the pork ribs, but they quickly composed themselves for politeness' sake.

"It's got a healthy organic tomato sauce with it," Faramir argued, trying to salvage the reputation of his pasta. "Much less likely to clog up your arteries."

"What's this I hear about tomatoes and arteries?" Denethor strode into the dining room, having finished his quality time with the evening news, and cast a disapproving look upon the table. "No meat, Faramir? What kind of dinner is this?"

Faramir swallowed hard and boldly met the gaze of his father. "Dad, I'm a vegetarian."

Denethor looked ready to have a heart attack. "You're a WHAT?"

Haldir had no good explanation to give to his boss and gazed across the street at her helplessly. "I was bird watching?"

"Can't you go bird watching in your own neighborhood?" asked Galadriel.

"No, my brother Rumil's guitar playing scares all the animals away. It's a real pity."

"Well I've got important business, so I would appreciate it if you took your bird-watching elsewhere, Haldir." Galadriel gave him a Look that sent shivers running down Haldir's spine. "Remember, I control your salary." And she disappeared into Gimli's stone house.

As soon as Galadriel was gone Haldir hid in some bushes and whipped out his cell phone so he could call Celeborn. "You're done already?" Celeborn asked in disbelief.

"No, your wife caught me before I could get started," said Haldir. "But she's definitely got a date with the dwarf. She was wearing makeup and a nice dress, and even did her hair. She never dresses like that for you."

"I know," Celeborn said forlornly. "I don't get it. What does that dwarf have that I don't?"

"Personality? Facial hair? Maybe you should go down to the docks and ask Cirdan how he grew that beard of his."

"That's not a bad idea. Surely Galadriel won't leave me if I've got a beard, right?"

"It's worth a try, pal."

"I knew I could count on you, Haldir buddy."