Chapter Seven: Of Intoxication and Coconuts
"Ratty, you're a big rat, smart rat,
Scratching with your claws,
Gonna to spread you some Plague some day,
Come on get on the stage, let out your rage
Nobody gonna put you back into your cage.
Tea will rock you,
Tea will rock you."
- Emilie Autumn, Tea Will Rock You.
After the incident of calling Lord Elrond, 'Mr. Smith', everyone in the room gave her a disbelieving look and kept a fair distance. In her defence, he looked an awfully lot like he did in 'the Fellowship of the Ring' and she had watched the Matrix many a time. The Elven lord turned his eyes to Elizabeth, studying her. She shifted her weight from foot to foot and directed her gaze to a non-threatening floorboard. Apparently, he decided she was a person of interest and commenced to walk towards. Oh shit. Now I've done it. Why is all I can think about is how much I want to try that tiara on?
"This is the girl?" He asked.
"Howdy." She said, dryly.
Merry kicked her ankle, whispering, "You're meant to bow!"
She did so. Gandalf chuckled, "Since you are a lady, I think it would be more appropriate to curtsy."
Lord Elrond waved his hand dismissively. "It is not necessary. I welcome you to Imladris, young stranger."
"Thank you." She said.
"May I sit?" He gestured to a chair.
"Of course." They all sat and the dining hall returned to it's normal state of talk and laughter.
"How are you feeling? It has been a hard road for you."
"I'm fine, thank you," See? I can remember my manners! "I'm feeling a lot better."
"Good. Your handmaiden has told me that you are inclined to speak in you sleep." He raised the infamous eyebrow.
Hahaha! Eyebrows! Stifling her amusement, she answered, "What did I say?"
"Something about a boy named, 'Harry Potter'? And who, might I ask, is Orlando Bloom?"
She buried her face in her hands and, although she intended to say something sophisticated and clever, all that escaped her lips was, "Mmmm." She was making a habit of communicating by unintelligible noises.
"Pardon?" Questioned a very entertained Gandalf.
"Orlando Bloom is a very, very sexy man." She dragged her head up and sighed dreamily.
"Who's Harry Potter?" Pippin piped up.
She shook herself, "He's a wizard."
"Is better than Gandalf?"
She snorted, incredulous, "Yes, he survived a killing curse when he was just a baby."
"Moving swiftly onwards." Said Gandalf, obviously a little peeved at them talking about a wizard greater than he, "We have discussed how she might have come here, but not why."
She sniffed, "I thought we'd been through this; I'm deeply asleep or dead."
"Although not everything has a reason, most things do. I believe that you coming to us in a time of great need was no coincidence." He looked pensively at the apple still in his hands.
"Perhaps this is The Valar's doing?" said Elrond, pouring himself some fruit-scented wine from a jug. Right, this would be a good time to set the plan in motion, she thought, eyeing the wine. Carefully, she took a small vial out from her sleeve, doing to her best to keep it out of sight. Merry and Pippin were far too busy eating to pay her much heed, but Sam glanced at her curiously. She put a finger to her lips in the universal gesture of 'Be Quiet!'
"...I don't think so. I mean no disrespect Miss. Sparrow, but what use could she possibly be to us?"
"Apart from the fact that I just told you part of your history and I know what's going to happen? 'Cause where I come from that's a pretty big, damn deal." She said, slightly offended by Gandalf's words.
"And you have spoken Aragorn, in great detail, about why you cannot tell us anything that's fated to come about." Gandalf said, patiently. Aragorn: Traitor of Womankind. She sank lower in her seat, annoyed at her exclusion from the debate. It's my life. It isn't fair. Holy shit, I sound just like I did when I was a teenager. Must stop feeling sorry for myself. She started at the contact of a hand on her own. She glanced up quickly to see who it belonged to.
"They don't pay much attention to what I've got to say either." Muttered Sam.
She grinned, squeezing his hand for a moment before pulling away and whispered, "Watch and learn."
Elrond and Gandalf were still deep in discussion, so they hardly noticed Elizabeth wrestling with the stopper of the small, glass bottle. Merry and Pippin looked over at her, puzzled. "What's she doing?" Said Merry, under his breath.
"I don't know and I'm not sure I want to find out." Responded Sam. The stopped eventually came out with a barely audible popping noise. Naturally, Lord Elrond heard it.
"What was that?" He asked, breaking out of conversation.
"What was what?" Replied Elizabeth, innocently. She brought her hands further under the table to hide the bottle.
"That sound."
"What sound?"
He threw her a glare. "That popping sound."
"I didn't here anything. Did you guys?" She scrutinized the Hobbit's, who were torn between loyalty to their friend and the instinct to tell the truth. "Well?" She said, wordlessly willing them to agree with her.
"Nope." Merry murmured. The rest followed suit and nodded.
"Thank you." She mouthed to them, after Elrond's peripheral didn't include her. With the vial now open, she slowly brought it up to the table. She hoped that if Gandalf did see what she was doing, he would keep quiet. What she is about to do, dear Reader, is something you shouldn't try at home. Or anywhere for that matter. It may result in Elven Lords chasing you around the room with a broomstick/glass jug/implement of their choice. "OH MY GOD!" She shouted, staring wide-eyed over Elrond's shoulder. Instinctively, he, and almost everyone else in the room, turned to look at whatever she was gaping at.
That was the biggest mistake he could have made. She leaned forward and tipped the contents of the bottle into his wine. She was back in her seat just in time before he whirled back around to face her. "What is it? What have you seen?" He said, alarmed.
"Oh." She coughed, acting embarrassed, which wasn't very difficult. "I thought I saw some, uh, migrating coconuts." Damn you, Monty Python!
"Migrating... coconuts?" He said. "Maybe you should go back to the healers, Lady."
She shook her head. "No, I'm fine. It was a trick of the light."
He stared at her for a moment and either thought she was up to nothing, or she was up to something that didn't concern him. She hoped it was the former. "What's a coconut?" enquired Pippin. Ah, Pip: The saviour of pregnant pauses. Hey, that sounded spiffy. I should say more of these things out loud.
"A coconut is the seed of the palm tree. It doesn't taste very nice." They all pondered that for a moment before Gandalf and Elrond carried on talking and Elizabeth watched to see if he would drink his wine. It was exactly like a film. Her awareness went into slow-motion as he reached for his glass and took a delicate sip of the dark liquid and nothing happened.
What the hell did I expect? When you spike an Elven Lord's drink with really strong alcohol that, according to his son, will make him more than a little tipsy, you don't expect the results straight away. Honestly, she was surprised that it didn't taste different. He talked as he did before, didn't slur his words or anything of the sort. It won't work immediately. She concluded, Elladan said it work reasonably fast.
"...Elizabeth?"
"Yes?" She reluctantly pushed her musings away.
"I was saying there is a day until the council. The council will decide the fate of what will become of the Ring-"
"Not trying to interrupt or anything," She interrupted, "But I already know that."
"By all means, I was about to say that, unfortunately, you will not attend the council."
"Oh," she tried to mask her disappointment. "May I ask why?"
"Gandalf and I feel, after much deliberation, that it would be best for you to be left out of it. If you can't tell us the predetermined course, then you are of little use there."
"Gandalf! You agreed?"
"Yes, it wouldn't be wise to let others in on who you are and what you know. Having you there would cause rumours."
"I can see the logic, I suppose." She muttered and slumped in her chair.
"In the meantime, we will try to figure out how to get you back to your own world." Elrond was really gulping that wine. Elizabeth suddenly noticed something. Something she couldn't believe had escaped her attention. At the other end of the table sat a tea pot. In the pot, she really hoped, was some tea.
"Holy monkey on a stick! Is that tea I spy?" She was overcome by the urge to run and grab the pot from the two Elves who were glancing at her nervously.
"Yes. Do they not have tea where you come from?" said a very confused Pippin. He was dumbfounded at the idea of an existence without tea.
"I love tea!" She glowered, exceedingly cross at her deprivation of the caffeine-rich beverage.
"I wonder how many similarities these dimensions have." Contemplated Gandalf. "I think it's time you told us of your home, Miss. Sparrow." She, indubitably, wasn't listening. Judging by her facial expressions, Sam, Merry and Pippin decided she was trying to make the pot explode using mind control.
Elrond laughed, heartily, startling her out of the mental battle with the brew. "Yes, do tell us!" Another laugh. Uh, did I miss the invitation to the Crazy Party? Could... could this be the liquor taking affect? "I have the sudden urge to paint something." He murmured to himself.
"What did you do to him?" Exclaimed Sam, unnerved at the prospect of an insane Lord sitting near him.
"Nothing. I do what I'm told to do." Smiled Elizabeth.
"Yes, what did you do to me? I feel... tingly." Elrond commented.
"Wow, um, you need to learn to hold your liquor." Gandalf simply seemed to be tickled pink by the entire situation. "Anyway, back to the current crisis; I need to get my hands on that tea." You could almost hear her brain whirring and clicking with the effort to formulate a scheme.
"Are you aware that you could go and ask those Elves for they're tea?" said Gandalf. His suggestion was promptly ignored by the girl.
"So, they do have tea, where you're from?" Pippin said.
"Oh, the British are famous for their tea. Our English skies may be grey, we may call you a wanker or a tosser, we may have an oddly dry sense of humour but, holy fuck, we make amazing cups of tea." No one knew quite what to say to that.
"I will get you some tea, if you tell me of your home." Bargained Gandalf,
"What do you want to know?"
"Everything."
"Um, that'll take a while."
"Tell me as much as you can."
So, she commenced to explain the age of man and the machine. Of the thick, black industrial smoke that used to spout from chimneys in the cities, of the eras that she could remember, of technology that Middle Earth could only dream of, and of the many, many kinds of tea.
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