Article: 210124 of rec.arts.books.tolkien Path: uchinews!newsfeed.berkeley.edu!newsfeed.skycache.com!Cidera!152.163.239.131!portc03.blue.aol.com!audrey04.news.aol.com!not-for-mail From: <<>> (PaulB) Newsgroups: rec.arts.books.tolkien Subject: Book II, Chapter 1 Lines: 319 NNTP-Posting-Host: ladder07.news.aol.com X-Admin: news@aol.com Date: 07 Jun 2000 23:07:36 GMT Organization: AOL http://www.aol.com X-Newsreader: Session Scheduler Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Message-ID: <20000607190736.02387.00002442@nso-cf.aol.com> Xref: uchinews rec.arts.books.tolkien:210124 My poetry's not very good. (Thank God I don't do it for food) But here's my submission In the E-Text tradition Be kind, if you possibly could. Dedication: In Memory of my Grandmother, Margarita Nora Sherriff de Furlong. Acknowledgements: Many limes were sacrificed in researching this chapter. Book II The Ring Keeps on Going, and Going, and Going.... Being the second half of the first third of the latter history of Lower-Upper-Middle-Earth. Chapter 1 Many Margaritas Frodo woke with a splitting headache which was made worse when he realized that nothing that painful could be a dream. "Where am I _ and why is everything so _loud_," he said before changing to a whisper. Oh, this was a bad one alright. "You are in the Last Homely House — or the first — or maybe neither, as many homely houses have been built before and after this one. suffice it to say that it is the house of El Rond and he's been hard at work up until last night trying to save your silly mortal hide." The voice was that of Gandalf's and Frodo never imagined any voice could be as loud as what he was hearing right now. "Could you show some respect and keep it down. _Please._ People are busy dying here." "Oh its not that bad, you could be dead already." Gandalf had turned away from the sideboard he had been standing at and was approaching Frodo with a fluted glass with a green concotion in it. "Here. Drink this, it will help you get over the hang..., I mean, headache that you have. It has been close these past four days and we had to keep you well sedated while we forced the blood toward your brain again. Nasty work that was. We didn't finish until last night. Oh, by the way, don't worry, some women find scars sexy." I don't know which, Gandalf thought to himself, but I'm sure there must be at least one somewhere. "Four days!" cried Frodo. "You mean I haven't _eaten_ in four days?!?! Get something in here right now! And make sure there are plenty of mushrooms!" "Well, at least you seem to have you're spirit back. Although you seem to forget that your on the lamm and are owing your well being to others. Some gratitude first... and finish that drink." The wizard smile inwardly. That Frodo's aggresiveness had not been permanently harmed by all he had been through was good, but still, keeping the hobbit pliable with these elvish concoctions would still be necessary to guarantee that he continued to bankroll this quest more or less willingly, at least until there were no magistrates around who could decide in his favour. A knock came on the door, and then it opened. A beautiful elven maid came in carrying a large tray of food. The maiden set the tray before Frodo, and handed him a second glass of the amazingly good, if salty, green drink that Gandalf had given him earlier. "I'm Margarita. Here, El Rond and Gandalf say this will help you to recover from your trauma. And if there is anything else you need we will surely try to provide it for you." Frodo smiled at this and thought that this was exactly what the ring was meant for. His thought flashed to the golden object. "The ..." "...Ring?" said Gandalf, showing that he knew the hobbit all too well. "It is safe around your neck, on a new chain. But don't try using it or El Rond will make sure that something else is around your neck soon enough. It is much to dangerous to use now that you have started to unwittingly tap into some of the power of the white gold." Frodo frowned as his face turned red. He turned his thoughts to the tray that had cause the girl to come in. Half of it was filled with mushroom delicacies and the other half was filled with pallette cleansing side dishes to have between the various preperations of the fungi. He dove in, stuffing himself as only a starved hobbit could and looked up at the wizard. "SaauummGH?" "Sam? Oh, yes. Sam and the others are alright. In fact they have all been enjoying your portions at the table while you've been out of it. Once you drew the fainted they were quite safe from your advances and had no trouble getting here. Have another dose of your, um... medication." Gandalf refilled Frodo's glass. Frodo had to admit it was the best prescription he had ever tasted. His headache was rapidly diappearing but he was getting a little light-headedness in return. "Time for you to rest again. Tomorrow, maybe, you should be able to walk about a bit. But for now bedrest is the thing. Unfortunately Elvish surgical practices aren't what they used to be." The wizard left Frodo with enough curiousity to kill ten cats. He looked under the sheets. He was only able to count four scars before passing out. *** Sam came in the next morning and drew the curtains wide. "Close them!!!" cried Frodo, as a searing pain came across his eyes. Sam didn't listen. "Some fresh air and light will do you good, master. Here, Gandalf said you still might be suffering from some pain beacause of yours wound. This stuff seems to do wonders." Sam handed Frodo a glass of the green liquid. "If you want, sir, we might be able to find some fresh fruit for that to make it more palettable." "Yes," replied Frodo. "that would be good. Next time. It does seem to help the pain though." "Indeed it does, sir. In fact, many of the elves like to have a dose or two at the end of a days work, but what work it is they do I couldn't tell you sir. They seem to have perfected the art of taking it easy, if you know what I mean." Frodo saw an elven maid pass by the open door. "I know exactly what you mean, Sam. I'd like to learn that art from them myself." "Do you feel up for a stroll, sir? Everyone has been quite excited since you came out of the shed that El Rond and Gandalf took you when you got here. It was a long time they spent workin' on you and there were at least two barrels of this here green stuff that went in there. _Annie-stay-tick_ they called it but most people seem to call it margarita." "That's what the girl who brought me my supper yesterday said her name was," said Frodo. "Anniestaytick?" Sam put his nuckle in his eye, trying to make some sense of things. "No, you ninny-hammer! Margarita." "Oh..... Well, they do seem to like the stuff, so I'm not suprised they've named some of the younger ones after it. That's meaning younger to them, I mean, seeing as most of the lassies around here are at least a couple thousand years old." Frodo had another vision af the elf from the day before and his stomach turned slightly. He took another sip of his drink. Yes, that's better, he thought. *** After Frodo had risen and gotten dressed in the fresh clothes that had been provide for him, he and Sam started out to explore the house of El Rond. Many halls it had as Bilbo had recounted over and over again when anyone gave him the opportunity. Halls for eating, halls for thinking, halls for reading quietly and even halls for..... "Oh, YES," thought Frodo, "I'll have to visit _that_ hall," but just then he heard a ascream of "midget pig!" and Morrie and Pipsqueak were flying out with the closing door barely missing them as they passed through. "Hi there, Frodo!" said Morrie. Pipsqueak only grinned and he wiped his mouth with his forearm. Morrie elbowed him in the side. "Yes. Hi there, Frodo. Glad to have you back. We were having such an awful time worrying about you." Frodo just glareed at the two and they shut up quickly, although Morrie did not like being talked to like that on any occasion. "Why don't we take Frodo over to the Hall of the Fire," said Pipsqeak, breaking the silence. "That sounds like a splendid idea," agreed Sam and the two were off down the hall. Frodo and Morrie gave a final glare at each other, smiled, and followed. *** The hall they entered was as large as a large as a the largest hobbit banquet halls, which can be very large when you think of all the relatives and friends that hobbits feel obligated to invite because of social niceties. Bilbo's had been so large a party that it had to be moved outdoors, with the party quonset being constructed to entertain the more favoured guests while keeping away the less desireable yet obligatory invitees . In the middle of the hall but toward the far end from where the four had entered, was a large circular fire, free standing with the flu just above it. It was about twenty feet in diameter and a fire raged it , keeping even those at the other end of the room warm. An elven waitress came over to offer Frodo and his friends some _margaritas_. Each of them gratefully took one, Frodo going so far as to take a second as well. "These headaches, y'know. This seems to be the best thing for them." The others nodded while smiling knowingly each to the other two. To the right was a bent old dwarf, who motioned for Frodo to come closer. "It is a pleasure to meet the heir to Bilbo," said the dwarf. "I already see signs that his cunning and guile, when used to save his own skin, has been passed on to you. Having made the journey you did shows that both his luck and skill were passed on to his, uh, _nephew_." "Am I correct in presuming that I am talking to one of Bilbo's companions from his oft told journey?" "That you are Mr. Baggins." Here the dwarf bowed low as he intoned "Gloin, at your service." Gloin held his bow for a moment, until Frodo directed Sam to help unbend him. "Ah, Bilbo," said Frodo wistfully. "He did have a habit of going on, but still..." "You miss him dearly, do you not, Frodo?" asked Gloin. "Yes, I do. Sometimes I wonder where he is and if he still has that chain." Out of the corner of his eye Frodo noticed El Rond entering the hall. Rather than coming over to Frodo's group, he strode quickly to the opposite end of the hall where he greeted the most beautiful Elven woman that Frodo had ever seen, and he had been keeping his eyes open so as not to miss one since he had awakened. In fact, he was distracted for a moment as a wiatress came up to offer more _margaritas_ to the party, which they all gladly accepted, Frodo saying "here, (hic) why don't I take two so you don't feel rushed to get back." Before she turned away, Frodo grabbed the waitresses arm. "Who is that to whom El Rond is speaking?" he asked. "That is the Daughter of the Msster of this house. Arwen, daughter of Celebrian who has gone to the halls of Mandos." And so Frodo set eyes once more on the beauty which few mortals had yet seen, the vision of which had so recently given a temporary cure to his malady and his first access to the awsome full power of the ring, Arwen, who by the elves was called _Indomitable_, the Morningstar of her people, for with that heavy piece of weaponry as well as other small handheld throwing weapons she was as proficient as all but the greatest of the Rangers of the North. He had not recognized her in her black leather regalia, which she found useful both in battle and in other places where persuasive tactics might be enjoyed. Indeed, as Frodo looked more closely, he could see that what he had first taken to be baubles and jewlrey were indeed many stars and knives placed within easy reach of her hands, and El Rond, who loved her dearly, still kept a space between them as they hugged in greeting so as not to be pricked by a well sharpened blade injudiciously placed. Her brothers, Al Ladan and Al Rokar, who had long since stopped worrying about their sisters safety, were off hunting down traces of those who had pursued Frodo and his companions. Frodo thought to himself that it did not matter if she was older than dirt, she was still the best looking woman; Elf, Mortal or Hobbit; he had ever seen, and if ever he got the chance... But his reverie was broken and his attention turned away as a voice came out of the fire. There once was a man named Elysium Who ran a smuggling consortium To the Undying Lands He led all his hands In the hopes of scoring some opium. Many a battle was fought Over jewels some elf had wrought The poppies had withered while the elvish folk dithered Over lessons the Valar had taught. To them did Elysium sail Through many a monstrous gail A Silmaril in hand He thought to demand All the poppies Aman had for sale. El Wing, his wife, came along For she looked mighty good in a thong If the jewels held no interest Opinies this satirist With his wife he couldn't go wrong. The Valar, their interest did pique When the light of the jewel it did leak Eonwe did say As they stood at the quay "The Powers to you they would speak." To the high point they both did walk For Elysium wanted to talk A jewel he would sell for the chance for to smell Of poppies, but the Valar did balk. "Nay," said their spokesman, Gal-Dós "For the fate of the world you would toss Away for a pittance. Your incompittence Has worked out to your own loss." At this did Elysium quake For the jewel he thought they would take And he without tuppence Would get his come-uppence Of a jones he ne'er could slake. "In Middle-earth now you are done We now send you forth with one Of the Silmarili In the sky for to fly Until the Last Battle's begun. "To your sons we will give this choice For each of them you will rejoice To chose Man or Elf To live both himself and his children, for they have no voice." Mannish strain Earohed chose And why? Nobody knows. El Rond, he still lives while his brother, he gives His flesh over to decompose. Elysium stands on his deck With an Silmaril hung 'round his neck With his wife by his side In the sky he does ride keeping darkness forever in check. Now the voice was recognizable, it was Bilbo's and a smile came across Frodo's face as the old hobbit who was being dragged around the hearth by two of El Rond's Balliffs. "Hullo, Frodo, my lad," Bilbo said. "I hear you had a bit of trouble getting here." Frodo gave the tottering old hobbit an embrace and then drew up a chair for him. They were joined by El Rond and Gandalf as well, for Frodo had missed him entering as the poetry was being recited. "A bit cheeky of you to be writting poems about your hosts parents, do you think Bilbo?" said Gandalf. Bilbo shrugged him off and continued, "Do you still have it? The ring that is. I must say there are many reasons to use it around here and at my age I could use all the help I can get." Gandalf, seening a frown coming across El Rond's face, interjected. "Your time of possesing the ring has past, Bilbo. It is time for others to carry the burden, but maybe not for to much longer." He handed Frodo another drink. "But of course. Master El Rond, you must know that I was only jesting." El Rond was about to reply when Frodo downed his drink in one gulp. He looked fine and then his eyes became wide and he started to lose his balance. "Frodo, Can you here me?" asked Gandalf. "Yesshh," replied the sodden hobbit. "Boy-o-boy, when these things finally hit they hit hard, don't they Gandy-poo?" "I can help you through this Frodo my friend, but you'll have to do what I say and it may take a while. OK?" "I'll do anything you say, Gand-meister." To El Rond and the others Gandalf spoke softly. "We're halfway there. With him loaded like this we're sure to get the rest of his accounts from him." In a louder voice Gandalf spoke to the general gathering of people. "Alright everyone, he's primed. It's time to have our Council." There was a muted cheer as Morrie, Pipsqueak and Sam, carrying Frodo between them, followed after Gandalf and El Rond to the Meeting Hall. Bilbo tottered slowly after them. Breathe Peace PB "... the essence of myth [is] that it have no taint of allegory to the maker and yet should suggest incipient allegories to the reader..." C. S. Lewis, having read "The Lay of Leithian"