Ginny: Donald, what are you doing.

Donald: Haroo!

Translation: Well, seeing as you were all tranquilized, I took the opportunity to do some home décor!

Aggie: It's all pastels. I hate pastels.

Moolie: Good work, you whale.

…

Chapter Nine: Whizzbangs

"No one told me about the beacon being lit!" Théoden scolded his army about their premature celebration in the courtyard. "I am the leader! I get to make the decisions!"

Merry, who stood behind Théoden and mimicked his every move, crossed his arms and huffed, "Not cool, you guys." Théoden sneered, irritated with the hobbit, but said nothing.

The assortment of warriors was silent. Aragorn smirked. 'Pff, leader.'

"I mean, this is a crucial plot point, you guys!"

"Seriously!" Merry agreed.

"And then you all had to go celebrate the beacon being lit at a Thai restaurant of all places! Really, guys? Thai food?"

There was much grumbling. "It was the only place open," Gimli stated.

Eowyn frowned. "Why doesn't anyone like Thai food?"

In the back corner, Azimah stood fading in and out of the meeting. Her vision suddenly began to narrow and blur.

"Well, now that we've all decided to go to war, I have to get 3,000 men from Snowborne and 5,000 from the outlying lands...and don't even get me started about the supplies and tents…did you not even think about all the work that I have to do now because of your stupid decision? Did no one think of me!?"

"So selfish!"

"Merry, please!"

Azimah attempted to blink the strange vision away, but it continued to grow worse. She began to sway.

"It was an afterthought…" Aragorn reassured him. "Trust us. We thought of you."

Théoden stuck out his lower lip in a trembling pout. "You guys suck."

There was a sudden thud from the back of the room and Legolas gave a shout.

…

Denethor sat at the head of the obnoxiously long table, Gandalf facing him on the opposite end. On Denethor's right side sat Hallbjörn, Nora's father, who faced his brother and Nora's uncle Gregers on Denethor's left side. Next to Hallbjörn sat Faramir, who Hallbjörn took a great liking to. Across from Faramir sat Nora, her head lowered to keep from looking at any of her family members. Next to Nora was Pippin, who was strategically sat across from the third Nordic man, named Ansgar. Pippin was mighty suspicious of this third Nord; Nora would never make eye contact with him and he was the only one of the three Nords that she hadn't greeted.

As the party was served their dinner, the silence became almost unbearable. Faramir, eager to break the ice, turned to his left to face Hallbjörn.

"So, Lord Hallbjörn, how was your journey?"

Hallbjörn began a frightful tale of the three Nordic men's journey to Minas Tirith through blizzard, hail, and political protest. Faramir immediately regretted asking the question.

"…but, of course, once we heard my dear Honora was down here, we just had to trek on." Hallbjörn turned his solid gaze to his daughter, who refused to meet his eyes. "Look at me, child."

Nora raised her head, anger washing over her face. "I'm not a child, father. I'm nineteen. And I don't need you to be making my decisions for me. If I decide to fight for the good of my people, I am going to do that."

"You know damn well you had no right to leave Forodwaith," Hallbjörn stated. "You had made a commitment to Ansgar, but you had to be a child about it and run away."

Nora finally mustered up the courage to meet Ansgar's gaze.

Pippin, realizing his mouth had been open in disbelief for well over five minutes, stopped the conversation from proceeding. "Wait, wait, wait…I'm afraid I'm not following."

Hallbjörn decided to recognize the hobbit's question. "Allow me to explain. Honora was—still is—engaged to this man, Ansgar." Hallbjörn gestured to the young Nord two seats down. Ansgar acknowledged his name with a small nod, but said nothing. Pippin noted the blank look on his face and wondered if all young Nordic warriors were as dense as the man before him.

Hallbjörn went on, "My daughter instead decided to run away from her life up north and join this fellowship. Obviously, she was too selfish to realize how much shame it would bring upon our family, as well as Ansgar's." Hallbjörn turned his attention to Nora. "It is not your place as a woman—an engaged woman, no less—to be here in the middle of a war. You were never to join this fellowship. You were to stay in Forodwaith and start a family with Ansgar—"

Nora slammed her glass of wine on the table, interrupting her father. "I have held my own in this fellowship from day one, Father! Yes, I am a woman, but I am not completely helpless. You couldn't keep me in Forodwaith for the rest of my life!"

Hallbjörn, obviously used to this behavior, was unphased. "So impulsive," he muttered, shaking his head. "Just like your mother. Jacobine was never the ideal Nordic woman, either." He looked at Nora, who was still shaking from her outburst. "You're looking more like her than ever, Honora."

Nora regained her composure. "I will not marry Ansgar," she stated firmly. She glanced at Faramir in front of her. "I'll choose who I want."

"Oh, fuck me…"

The rest of the party looked at Pippin after digesting what he had muttered. Pippin, however, didn't seem bothered by his small outburst or the sudden attention. He simply continued to stare at his food.

"You are impossible to deal with," Hallbjörn said, turning the attention back to him and Nora. "And what has happened to your appearance? Disheveled hair and a man's tunic without tights? What were you thinking? You look like a common whore."

Nora made a face but remained quiet. Gandalf, who had been observing silently for the majority of the dinner, finally chimed in. "Perhaps we could change the conversation to a lighter topic. Denethor, don't you agree?"

Denethor looked up at the mention of his name, shrugged, and nodded unconvincingly.

Gregers, the oldest of the Nords at the table and Hallbjörn's brother, took the initiative. "How's my boy, Ludvig?" he asked Nora. "I understand he left with you for Rivendell."

"Last I heard, he was still there," Nora replied, still a bit shaken from the previous conversation. "I believe he's helping our friend Ghalib back to health. They became very close while we were there."

Gregers nodded, mulling this information over. The change in subject obviously did not kill the tension in the room. It was silent for awhile longer before Denethor spoke.

"So, Osgiliath has fallen." The old man glared at his son a few seats away. "We must reclaim it."

Faramir slowly put down his fork. "Father, you realize…this will be a suicide mission?"

"Is there not a captain here who wishes to serve me?" Denethor asked, turning his gaze away from his son.

Faramir looked at his plate in thought. He drew a shaky break before speaking. "You wish now that our places had been switched. That I had died and Boromir had lived."

Denethor finished a swig from this goblet of wine. "Yes. I wish that."

Choking back tears, Faramir answered calmly, "Since you were robbed of Boromir, I will do my best in his absence."

To break the heavy silence that followed, Hallbjörn patted Faramir on the shoulder. "What a good son you have here, Denethor! Doing his father's will." The Nordic man glared daggers at his daughter, who had seemed affected by the previous exchange of words. Without another word, she pushed her chair back and walked out of the room with her head high. Pippin, eager to get more answers, followed minutes later.

…

Azimah awoke on her bedroll, confused.

She blinked as blurred lights came into view. Groaning, she tried to sit up but the pain in her chest and the throbbing in her skull were both too much. She fell backwards, only to be caught and guided gently to the ground by strong hands.

"Easy there," a worried voice chided her.

Azimah blinked as Legolas came into view.

"W-what…"

"You fainted," Legolas wiped her forehead with a cool cloth. "Azimah, you must be ill. I do not think you are fit to ride to battle."

"I am, I swear I am," Azimah fought to sit up again, only to fall back once more to her bedroll.

"Azimah, you are not well-"

"Legolas, it was simply a dizzy spell, I'll be fine in a few minutes."

"Azimah." Legolas put a firm hand on her shoulder to keep her down. "I have no notion as to what ailment you have but it is serious. I shall not allow you to leave your bed until you are recovered."

"I promise you it is nothing."

Legolas paused, his face unreadable. He tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"You are not telling me something, elen nîn."

Azimah felt her face color at the pet name. She lay on her side, looking away. She felt his hand rubbing her arm.

"Why can you not tell me? What have I done?" Azimah couldn't see his face, but she could sense the pain in his voice.

"Please leave…" she murmured.

"Elen nîn -"

"Do not call me that," She snapped weakly. "Please leave, Legolas."

As he motioned to go he felt her hand frantically grab his.

"And don't you dare try and leave for battle without me," she said, giving him a hard stare.

Legolas gave a smile. Feeling a little bit wicked he leaned in and kissed her softly on the mouth.

"Whatever you wish, my star."

Azimah somehow mustered the energy to smack him hard across the face.

…..

"Alright, well, onto your 'whiz' I will add Z-B-A-N-G-S. Whizzbangs, that's thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-seven points! Plus triple word score, so…One-hundred and eleven points."

Fado happily tallied her score, while Satchel sat dumbstruck at her Scrabble skills.

"There is no way that's a real word…"

"Oh but it is!" Gandalf teleported next to Satchel, enjoying a light, after-dinner cup of Darjeeling tea. "We used it all the time in Wizard College."

"Well," Satchel was trying to gain composure, after nearly peeing his pants upon Gandalf's sudden arrival. "What does it mean then?"

"Oh you naughty boy," Gandalf giggled from behind an authentic Japanese tea fan. "I'll never tell!"

Satchel scooted a few inches away from Gandalf.

"Why are you here Gandalf?" Fado asked, drawing a few new tiles for the next round.

"Satchel informed me about your episode in the library the other day," Gandalf started. "I have done some of my own research. Your mother was an earth sprite, correct?"

Fado nodded.

"And your father?"

"I never met him. They cast him out of the village before I was born."

"So, he was a flame sprite, then?"

"I assume so."

"Meaning that you're technically only a half-flame sprite."

Fado pondered what the wizard had said. "I never really thought of it that way. I suppose the fire genes have already been the more dominant."

"Well, I take that as a sign of hope, dear Fado," Gandalf reassured her, patting her hand. "The demon would not be able to take a full hold on you unless you allow it to do so."

Fado felt a weight lift off her chest. She gave Gandalf a big hug.

Gandalf made his way back to the door, pausing to draw a small notepad from his beard. "One good deed for the day," he muttered, scribbling fast. "Now I can go mess with Denethor!" And with that, he exited the room.

Fado turned her attention back to the current Scrabble game. After examining Satchel's most recent move, "prostate," she smirked and put down her tiles.

"E-X-A-M. Prostate exam!" She exclaimed, looking proud of herself.

Satchel studied the latest entry and angrily flipped the board over. "No."

…

Pippin found Nora lying on her bed belly-down in her room, resting her face in her folded arms in front of her. The hobbit, unsure of how to approach the Nord, let out a weak, "Hello."

Nora lifted her head from her bed and smiled at the sight of the hobbit. "Hello, Pippin."

Pippin slowly approached Nora's bed, fooling with the buttons on his vest. "That was…quite a scene back there."

Nora frowned. "Sorry about that. Stubbornness runs in the family."

The room fell into silence. Pippin rocked back and forth on his heels.

"So…" He searched the room for a non-awkward place to fix his gaze. "When were you gonna tell me you were engaged?"

"Pippin, please," Nora buried her head in her pillow. "Not now."

"Because I feel like it's a rather large piece of information, considering…well considering us…"

"Pippin, if you do not want to be gutted, castrated, and dragged a thousand miles back to Forodwaith by an elk, I suggest you keep your mouth shut about that when my father is around."

Pippin looked at her. "So there is something between us?"

"I honestly don't know, Pippin," Nora said. "But I think our current situation is complex enough as it is."

Pippin grimaced and turned towards the door. "Right."

…

Dan: So, how is being tranquilized, everyone…you…you decorated your home?

Aggie: It was the whale.

Dan: A whale? You guys, I didn't think it would affect you this much…

Ginny: Old news, Dan.