Chapter 12: Luck Be a Lady Tonight
"Ladies and gentlemen, Fires of Industry is proud to introduce our new drummer! Please welcome...SMÉAGOL!"
A scrawny figure bounced onto the stage, waved to the crowd, and took its place behind a giant drum set. Saruman and Denethor struck up an intro, and Rigli Studtongue launched into his first song, now backed by a throbbing beat:
"I...I will be king
And you...you will be queen..."
The coronation ball was underway.
The cream of Middle-Earth society had shown up for Aragorn's coronation. The Rohirrim were still camped out around the city. The glowing green Army of the Dead was still wandering the streets of Minas Tirith, occasionally frightening people who turned corners too quickly. Galadriel and Celeborn had arrived from Lothlórien, accompanied by Haldir. The Twins had come from Rivendell, having decided to postpone their trip West until they could see Debbie one last time. Even Treebeard was there. It was a party the likes of which had not been seen since the Second Age.
Five of the guests of honor, however, arrived somewhat late. The four Debbies and Gimli dashed in at the last moment, looking rather disheveled. The Dwarf shot a smug glance at Legolas; Legolas glared back in response, stamped his foot, and stalked off toward the refreshment tables. He had to fight his way past several hungry hobbits in order to get any food.
"Attention, please!" Rigli Studtongue held up his hands. "Fires of Industry would like to dedicate our next song to someone who's been very important to all of us. In fact, it's no exaggeration to say that Fires of Industry would not exist if it hadn't been for her. Let's all give a big hand to...Lady Debbie!"
He winked roguishly at Debbie the White. Saruman grinned and flashed a peace-sign at Debbie the Red. Denethor blew a kiss to Debbie the Purple. Sméagol waved his drumsticks enthusiastically at Debbie the Black.
"This is for you, Lady Debbie," said Rigli. "For all of you." And he began to sing:
"She can kill with a smile,
She can wound with her eyes,
She can take down an orc,
No matter what size,
And her hair's always perfect,
A wonder to see;
But that's all in a regular day
For the Lady Debbie!
Oh, and she never tires out,
And she'll always pitch in
When there's work to be done
Oh, she'll take care of your needs,
And help you get what you want,
And she'll make it all fun!
There's no task that's beneath her
There's no feat that's above her
And when all's said and done,
You just can't help but love her
If you need any proof,
Look no further than me;
Let the cynics pooh-pooh
'She's too good to be true,'
But I tell you, that's Lady Debbie!"
The Debbies circulated through the crowd, gaining as much attention as the newly-crowned king...or possibly more. Everyone seemed to have something to say to her.
"Thank you for uniting us," said Arwen, squeezing Aragorn.
"Thank you for introducing us," said Éowyn, squeezing Faramir.
"I'm sure you saved our lives a hundred times," Merry told Debbie the Red.
Pippin, whose mouth was full, nodded vigorously in agreement.
Háma shook Debbie the White's hand. "How can I ever thank you for saving my life?"
"You saved not only my life, but my sanity," King Théoden added grandly. "In fact, I have decided to create a completely new distinction just for you. From now on, you shall be known in Rohan as the Shieldmaiden Supreme!"
Debbie looked pleased. "Thanks! I've always liked Taco Bell."
"You must've saved our lives about a thousand times out there, Miss Debbie," Sam said earnestly to Debbie the Black.
"And you saved my finger," Frodo added with a shudder. "Thanks for warning me about that."
"Oh, it was nothing," Debbie said modestly. "And now that I know what you can do with those fingers, I'm even more glad to save them!"
"Not only did you save my life, but you saved me from having to wear that dreadful red cape," Haldir told Debbie the Purple. "I am eternally grateful--and, being an Elf, I do mean eternally."
"Thank you for saving my country," Éomer said to Debbie the White. "But next time, leave a few orcs for me, all right?"
"I didn't know you fancied orcs," Debbie giggled.
Elladan drew Debbie the Purple aside privately. "So who kisses better, me or my brother?"
"You do," she whispered, "but don't tell him I said that."
Debbie the Black found Legolas sulking in a corner, scowling at a plate of hors d'oeuvres. "Why so gloomy?"
"You know. Gimli." The Elf picked up a miniature sausage on a toothpick and bit into it savagely.
"Oh...well, he asked very nicely. You're not jealous, are you?"
"Of course not. It's just..." He looked at her with big puppy-dog eyes. "You're the only one I haven't tried."
"Is that all? That's easy to fix, you know!"
Legolas paused only long enough to purloin a tub of whipped cream from the refreshment table before allowing her to lead him out of the hall.
"Hoom," said Treebeard to Debbie the Red. "I have not had so much fun since I was a young sapling making buraroom with the Entwives..."
Elrohir cornered Debbie the Purple. "So," he asked, "who kisses better--me or my brother?"
"You do," she assured him, "but don't tell him I said that."
A green shimmer announced the presence of Garcia beside Debbie the White. "My men and I thank you for giving us a new direction in our lives...er, so to speak."
"What will you do now that the war's over?"
"Well, we all quite enjoyed our time on the ship. We thought maybe we'd take up a spot of piracy..."
Galadriel greeted Debbie the Purple with something approaching respect. "I know what you did," she said coolly. "And I'll forgive you...if you teach me some of those tricks you used."
Celeborn sought her out separately. "It was worth it," he whispered in her ear. "It was soooooo worth it."
"I have composed a short...hoom...ode dedicated to you, which I hope to read later for the company. It is but a trifle, a mere two hundred and thirty-six verses..."
"Arr," said Garcia experimentally.
"That's good, but try hitting the 'r' a little harder," Debbie the White suggested.
"Arrrrrr."
"Much better!"
"Elrond, I've got a present for you." Debbie the Purple opened her ever-present shoulderbag and drew out her laptop. "I thought you might like to play Tetris when you go to the Undying Lands."
Elrond gaped. "This is too great a gift!"
"Oh, one of me's still got one--the Black, I think," Debbie told him with a wave of her hand. "Just be sure to leave it out in the sun sometimes so the solar battery can recharge."
Reverently, Elrond took the computer. "Now I shall possess wisdom that no other Elf has ever seen," he breathed. "I only have one final question for you..."
"Sure, what is it?"
He cleared his throat. "Erm...who kisses better--me or my sons?"
"You do," she told him with a wink. "But don't tell them I said that."
Rick Cottontree bounced up to Debbie the Red with the four Hobbits in tow. "Guess what?" he said brightly. "Sam says I can come back to the Shire with him and help him look after Mr. Frodo's garden!"
"Just remember, I've got dibs on Estella Bolger," Merry warned him. "That is, unless Lady Debbie would care to..."
But his offer was lost, for at that moment, Gandalf stepped to the center of the hall and raised his hands for attention.
"Middle-Earth has now been reunited," he announced impressively. "Only one thing remains divided...or rather, one person. The time has come to reunite the Lady Debbie with...herself. Ladies Debbie, please step forward!" A hush fell over the crowd as three Debbies came to stand in front of the wizard. After a short pause, Legolas re-entered with the fourth.
"Now," Gandalf continued, "if you'll accompany me to someplace where we can be alone..."
"I've already done that," shouted Gimli. "It didn't work--at least, not in the way you mean."
Gandalf coughed. "Oh, very well, then. We'll have to do it the boring way."
He raised his staff high over his head and began to chant in some strange language. There was a brilliant flash of light, and the various figures of Debbie seemed to meld and merge. When the light faded, a single Debbie stood before the wizard. She wore a brief garment which seemed made up of all her previous outfits: it was made of lavender-grey silk, trimmed with fur at the bottom and lace at the neck, and it hugged every curve of her luscious body like a merrywidow.
"I am Debbie the Grey," she announced dreamily.
There was a ripple of applause from the crowd.
Just then, a loud voice resounded from the back of the hall.
"WHAT IN BLAZES IS GOING ON HERE?"
All heads simultaneously turned toward the door. There stood a tall, blond figure dressed in blue and red, carrying a large horn at his side.
"Boromir! You're alive!" shouted Faramir, rushing forward to greet him.
"Of course I am," Boromir answered. "But I fell asleep in my boat and drifted about a hundred miles too far downstream. I've had to walk back. What did I miss?"
"You missed my coronation, for one thing," said Aragorn.
"Your WHAT? But...what about Father?"
"He's, ah, retired." Faramir pointed to the bandstage, where Denethor was performing an energetic bass solo.
Boromir gaped. "Somebody is going to have to explain a lot of things to me."
Éomer patted the Gondorian consolingly on the shoulder. "I know exactly how you feel."
"How do we know that scruffy Ranger is the king?" Boromir continued, seeming not to have heard.
Aragorn, patted the hilt of Narsil. "I've got the sword, for starters."
Boromir's eyes traveled down the impressive length of the sword, then back to Aragorn. He snickered.
"Not a word," Aragorn growled. Then his gaze fastened on a small, silvery, and very familiar-looking object glinting at Boromir's neck, and his eyes bulged. "What?! When...?!" he sputtered.
"Rivendell," said Arwen. "You were taking a bath, remember?"
Boromir nodded. "And I thought it would be impolite to refuse the daughter of my host."
"A bath, eh?" Aragorn scratched his beard. "I knew there was a reason to avoid those things."
Gandalf cleared his throat loudly. "Now that the reunions are over, perhaps we can get back to sending the Lady Debbie home?"
"Debbie's here?" Boromir cried. Debbie the Grey waved at him.
"If you'd arrived a little sooner, there would have been four," smirked Gimli.
"And she's leaving? Oh, that's just my luck. There's nothing left for me in Middle-Earth." Boromir sat down heavily on a nearby bench and seemed about to start blubbering, when Debbie stepped forward and extended her dainty hand.
"Why don't you come home with me?" she asked. "There are lots of jobs for male models at home, and you'd be a natural. You might even be good at acting."
Instantly, Boromir leaped up. "I accept!" he shouted joyfully. "Faramir, you can be Steward. I'm going with Lady Debbie!"
"I will miss you, brother, but I understand your decision," Faramir nodded.
Hand in hand, Boromir and Debbie returned to stand in front of Gandalf.
"Before we go," Debbie began, "I would just like to thank everyone for making me feel so at home in Middle-Earth. I've had a wonderful time here, and I've loved all of you."
"Does she mean in the literal or figurative sense?" Éowyn whispered to Arwen.
"Who cares?" Arwen shrugged. "Either way, it was a time."
"So my work here is done, and I've got to go home now," Debbie continued. "But I'll take fond memories of my time here back with me. Be good to each other!" She blew a kiss to the assembled crowd and then turned back to Gandalf. "All right, we're ready now."
Gandalf waved his staff, and Debbie and Boromir instantly started to become transparent. As they slowly faded, Debbie glanced at the Man beside her. The last words anyone in Middle-Earth heard her say were...
"You know, you'll need a new name when you get to my world. How about...Sean?"
THE END
AUTHORS' NOTE: Well, we didn't finish quite as soon as we planned, but here it is at last! Blame Rose; we've had a draft of the chapter since last spring, but she kept tinkering with it. It's great to see it up at last, with some of the jokes we've been planning ever since we first realized there was going to be a sequel to "Debbie Does the Fellowship." Thanks so very much to all who have stuck with us all this time...and those who are maybe just joining us now. Your loyalty is inspiring!
Where do we (and Debbie) go from here? To be honest, we don't know. Gypsie has pretty much gotten out of the LOTR fandom. Rose is still in and writing solo fanfic, found on this archive under the name "Cressida1." But we're still friends, and who knows what might catch our eye in the future? Sometime we might see a fictional world that just cries out for a visit from Debbie. So we won't say goodbye, just "See you around!"
P.S. If you've enjoyed this saga, why not leave us a review?