Chapter Nine: Of Trousers and Telephones
"When I was walking in Memphis,
I was walking with my feet ten feet off of Beale,
Walking in Memphis,
Do I really feel the way I feel?"
- Marc Cohn, Walking In Memphis.
"Holy heart failure, Batman." Elizabeth muttered. She crouched uncomfortably behind green foliage, listening to the idle talk of the ones already seated at the council. Despite being denied entrance to the supposedly 'secret' meeting, she still sneaked in to hide in the shrubbery with Sam. That wasn't a euphemism, she was, literally, huddled behind a conveniently placed bush. She got her tea in the end, swallowing her pride and asking Gandalf to talk to the kitchen Elves. They were surprisingly understanding about their communication problem. She discovered one thing: Middle Earth had horrible tea. Her quest was in vain.
She spotted Frodo looking troubled amongst a gaggle of Elves. She wished she could leap out of her hiding spot and shout encouraging phrases at him. Not the best idea she'd had, but, then again, not the worse. She hadn't particularly spoken with Aragorn after their exchange the past day, not going so far as to avoid him, simply not seeking him out to chat. There's no need to get attached to him. He's going to join the fellowship and I'm going to stay here, out of trouble. She nearly snorted out loud. Ha! Yeah, right! I'm going on this frickin' quest, even if it kills me. Now that I'm here, there is no bloody way I'm staying with Mr. Smith-look-a-like. His eyebrows scare me.
A movement caught her attention. She saw several more Elves file into the circle, each more beautiful than the last. "Welcome, Elves of Mirkwood." Said Elladan, who was apparently welcoming on his fathers behalf.
"Many thanks." One said and they bowed respectively. Hel-LO, studly! She eyed them appreciatively. The next to arrive were some Hobbit-like creatures. Except they had excessive facial hair, sharp axes and didn't look a thing like Sneezy, Sleepy, Happy, Bashful, Grumpy, Dopey or Doc. Disney don't know how wrong they are...
The men came after that. Compared to every other person in the circle, they were pretty normal. Although it would seem they had never heard of a razor. What did I learn from Harry Potter? That people with hair on their faces are trustworthy. I trust these guys. And the Dwarves. And Hobbits. They have facial hair, it's just not on their faces, which kind of destroys the whole concept. Never mind. Pretend I never thought that.
She shifted her weight. They hadn't picked the best place to eavesdrop on a secret council. After a few minutes of making small talk and Elves and Dwarfs glaring at one another, Elrond entered, no sign of yesterdays intoxication evident on his face. He took his place at the head of the council and began to talk. "Strangers of distant lands, friends of old. You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate. This one doom."
He's a cheerful sort of bloke, isn't he? Elizabeth thought, studying the Elves closest to her hiding place, trying to decipher which one was Legolas. Her best guess was the one with fair hair and a long white knife at his belt. She was forced to tear her attention away momentarily as her irritably long sleeve had snagged on a thorny branch. She tugged at it, struggling to free herself. All she did was drive the material deeper into the thicket.
"Bring forth the Ring, Frodo." She raised her eyes in time to see Frodo place the Ring on a stone plinth. Gasps and whispers went around the council like wild fire. Her eye caught on the Ring. For the first time, she really looked at it. At first glance, it was an unassuming gold ring but it had a magnetic quality. It was like someone had blocked her ears and she could hear nothing. Nothing but a whispering. A small, steady hissing. She tore her eyes from the Ring. That damn thing is evil. She shuddered, not wanting and unwilling to hear what it had to offer her.
"So it is true." Ah, so that's Boromir. The man to whom she was referring was attractive in face, grey-eyed, as were many of those in Middle Earth, and dark brown hair fell to his shoulders. His shoulders were broad from years of combat and even sitting, she could tell he was very tall. Hold on. He. Is. Attractive. Why did I never notice this before? Oh, and there's his invisible phone. Say hi to Denethor for me!
"Sauron's Ring. The Ring of power." She was correct in her assumption of who was Legolas. She pulled on her sleeve again, getting increasingly annoyed. I am at the Council of Elrond and my dress is caught in a fucking bush. The leaves rustled dangerously loud and several people twisted round to see the source of the noise.
"The doom of Man..." Hey, Gimli! Where's Snow White?
Boromir got up and slowly paced, as if evaluating it. "It is a gift... a gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, held the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy! Let us use it against him!" He was pretty animated by this time.
Poor guy. Elizabeth forgot her sleeve and watched Boromir. He wants to protect his people. "You cannot wield it." Said Aragorn. "None of us can." The one Ring answers to Sauron alone; it has no other master. I really wished I'd read the Silmarillion. She craned her neck, looking for a better gap in the leaves.
"And what would a ranger know of this matter?" Boromir said, coolly.
Kick his arse, Aragorn! He insulted your honour!
Instead, Legolas rose. "This is know mere ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance." You tell him, Leggy! She released a tiny sigh; she had ages to wait before herself and Sam joined in. Much to her dismay, Legolas whipped his head round at the whispering of the branches. She stayed very still. Luckily, no one else seemed to notice.
"Aragorn? This is Isildur's heir?" Boromir said in quiet disbelief.
"And heir to the throne of Gondor" Hmmm... I'm not liking Legolas so far. A little smug for my taste.
"Havo dad, Legolas." (Sit down, Legolas)
Boromir diverted his eyes and said bitterly, "Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king." More like, 'Gondor has no trousers' She thought, scrutinizing his current leg-wear. She defied the impulse to stand up demand he put some proper trousers on.
"Aragorn is right. We cannot use it." Gandalf agreed.
Elrond said, "You have only one choice: the Ring must be destroyed." Frodo wasn't looking too good. He was staring at the gold band on the plinth, eyes wide.
Gimli stood. "Then what are we waiting for?"
He suddenly rushed forward. He swung his axe down onto the Ring. She ducked as the weapon shattered with a deafening crack and flew in all directions. The Dwarf fell backwards, face twisted into amazement. The Ring was unharmed. Frodo winced, clutching his forehead. She half expected him to announce that his scar hurt and that the Dark Lord was near.
"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom; only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor, and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this."
Aren't you a ray of fucking sunshine. The council sat for a moment in stunned silence. People moved around. Someone coughed. Elizabeth tried to free herself from the shrubbery. It's pretty darn clear that it wasn't like an unproblematic trip to the supermarket.
Boromir is the first to talk. "One does not simply walk into Mordor (There's his imaginary phone, again! Say happy birthday to Faramir!) It's black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is an evil there that does not sleep and the Great Eye is ever watchful. It is barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume! (Sounds a bit like my room.) Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly." He finished with a triumphant look, like he'd won a huge victory. Maybe he had.
Perhaps not with ten thousand men, but with two men, an Elf, a Dwarf, a wizard, four Hobbit's and, hopefully, one woman. If the whole fellowship was made up of women, they wouldn't be in this mess.
Legolas got to his feet. "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!"
"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?" Gimli shouted, his face going a deeper shade of red.
"And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"
Gimli leapt up, "I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!"
All hell broke loose. There was shouting and holding back as most of the council were either spewing insults or pulling back those eager to fight. Gimli was heard, "Never trust an Elf!" ...And that was when Elizabeth resolved, in her mind, that she was fed up of this.
Hell, I was brought to Middle Earth. It wasn't on a wish or a prayer and, if I'm being honest, it wasn't because I'm dead or dreaming. This is here and now. What kind of divine power or deity brings you to a place of, supposed, fiction and expects you not to make a difference? I'm changing this. Future be damned.
She knew it was probably a big mistake. It didn't stop her from shouting, "THE COUNCIL OF ELROND DEMANDS AN EXPLANATION FOR THIS BULLSHIT!"