Article: 240642 of rec.arts.books.tolkien Path: news.uchicago.edu!newsfeed.stanford.edu!postnews1.google.com!not-for-mail From: <<>> (gimlet) Newsgroups: rec.arts.books.tolkien Subject: e text the eagle part 2 Date: 1 Jul 2001 07:07:13 -0700 Organization: http://groups.google.com/ Lines: 258 Message-ID: <86a92f0d.0107010607.4fc942a0@posting.google.com> NNTP-Posting-Host: 209.244.182.229 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit X-Trace: posting.google.com 993996433 19841 127.0.0.1 (1 Jul 2001 14:07:13 GMT) X-Complaints-To: groups-support -aaatt- google -daht- com NNTP-Posting-Date: 1 Jul 2001 14:07:13 GMT Xref: news.uchicago.edu rec.arts.books.tolkien:240642 posted in 2 parts cause of google. book 4 chapter 10 the eagle by gimlet part 2 For an hour and yet another they continued. Sam's legs were in agony as they began to near the summit. Even Spiegel, veteran of many a piece of exercise equipment, was moving slowly and starting to limp. "Stairs" Sam began to mutter. "I hate stairs." "I'll never be able to look at another stairmaster ever again" Spiegel gasped. Once again Spiegel was in front. Sam again had a constant view of her ass, but was now too tired from climbing to admire it. On a few occasions they had to work around the edges of broken stairs which had fallen long years ago. Below they could see the terrifying drop to the base of the Tower. They tried not to look. As they stopped for a moment to catch their breath they went silent. Some eerie noise like a caw of terror came from above. It was followed by a caw of disgust. "Come on!" Sam said quickly. "It's Mr Frodo, I'd bet. We've got to hurry!" There were only a few windings left of the great stair. Spiegel and Sam hurried up the last coils of the stairway as best they could. Spiegel almost tripped and regained her footing. As Sam followed her he could see what had been in her path: a discarded copy of Playtark opened to an overused centerfold and Frodo's shoes. A feeling of dread horror and nausea came over him. He hurried on. At the top of the stairs there was a black hatchway in a black ceiling, the floor for the ancient parapet where Insultir once purposed to grasp the stars and hang advertising from them. The hatchway closed for untold generations now stood open. The deep blue of the pre-dawn sky reached through it. Spiegel went through the hatchway, Sam heard her scream and then she turned back to the opening with her hand over her mouth. Sam heard voices as well. A huge leathery voice yelled: "Get off! Get off!" "Feathers" cried the voice of Frodo. "Oh God, feathers!" "Leggo a me! Leggo!" Sam darted the last few yards and was struck by revulsion at what he saw. A giant eagle fully eighteen feet high, stood on the great parapet trying to balance its weight on one leg. On that leg was Frodo, grasping the eagle with both arms and legs with erotic rapture and desperation mixed on his sweaty face. The eagle was trying to pull Frodo off his leg with the claw of the other leg. "But feathers are erotic" Frodo whined. "Pleease!" "Stop humping my leg!" screamed the giant bird. "Stop it! You there! Will you get this thing off my leg!" Sam, knowing an order when he heard one, looked around and found a 2x4 from a roof truss abandoned centuries ago. He quickly picked it up and hit Frodo with it as hard as he could. In his erotic desperation Frodo hardly noticed so Sam stuck the 2x4 between Frodo and the eagle and pried him loose. "Oh God Sam" Frodo gasped. "But I was so close." "Oh, shut up" Sam replied angrily. "And put your pants on, for God's sake. Show some modesty." "You don't know the weight of my burden" Frodo continued. "That single Eye taunts me day and night." "Ewwww" Spiegel said. "What you need is a cold shower. Here" Sam replied, and he unbelted his canteen and hit Frodo squarely in the face with it. Frodo subsided into a fevered swoon which was an improvement. Sam stopped and looked around. The place they found themselves in was fully open to the sky, ringed by a stone wall roughly shoulder- high and clearly unfinished. Rusted tools and pieces of a roof that was never built were lying off to one side. There were low spots on the wall where one could look down from the dizzying height if one dared. In the middle of the open room stood the eagle. Sam had heard stories about the eagles from Bilbo and Gandalf and the Elves and had quite reasonably thought they were all a pack of lies. Yet here stood one of the great birds before him. "Are you real?" he brought himself to ask. "Are you?" the huge bird replied sarcastically. "Am I real! Your nature-boy buddy seems t'think I'm real enough. Did you see that! Disgusting, I call it. Good thing you got here when you did, that's all I've got t'say." "Sorry about that" Sam answered. "He's just some sort of pervert." "I noticed" the eagle replied. The bird walked over to the wall and began scraping his leg against the stone. "Eucchhh. I need a bath. First people to climb up here in two thousand years and one of 'em's gotta be an aviophile. Say" the eagle turned to Sam. "Are you with him?" "Uh" Sam replied, "no. Well, sort of." "What are you up to?" the eagle said suspiciously. "Oh nothing important, really" Sam replied looking away. "Save the world, drop the Ring into Mordor, start a revolution, kill a few hundred people. That's all. Nothing much, really." "Oh is that all?" the eagle replied, looking relieved. "Well, good luck to you then." The eagle turned away, evidently done with the conversation. It continued to examine and flex its leg. Sam looked at Spiegel and at the swooning Frodo and thought how nice it would be to get this whole Mordor thing over with and start the Revolution. He turned again to the eagle. "Uh, Mr Eagle, sir" Sam began. "What?" the bird replied impatiently, looking up only briefly. "Well, uh, sir, would..." Sam's mind raced through all the drivel he had been forced to endure in Rivendell. "Are you one of the great eagles of the King of the West, chief of the Velour and Lord of All Western Lands Until The End Of The World?" "Yeah" replied the eagle. "So?" "Well" Sam said hesitantly, "I was sort of hoping that you could, you know, maybe see your way clear to, uh, helping us on our quest and flying us and the Ring into Mordor and, well, that sort of thing." Sam took a breath to continue but stopped short as the eagle gazed at him. The look in the bird's eyes made him step back. Sam suddenly thought he should apologise and ask the bird to forget he'd ever asked. But the eagle spoke first. "Quest, huh" it answered, biting off the word quest like a cracker. "Want me to help on a quest, is that it?" "Well I-" "Heh!" the eagle spat in disgust. "'Oh Mister Eagle there's this quest, could you just fly me somewhere?' 'Oh Mister Eagle could you just take care of these wolves, we're on a quest you see'? 'Oh cute little birdie Manwe needs a favor, could you just swoop down like an avenging army on these Orcs, you see it's for a quest?' Think I haven't heard it before? Think we haven't been pressed into service every time someone has a little problem? Think we eagles have nothing better to do with our time than fly around on quests?" "Well, uh" Sam stuttered, "I once heard that you sometimes-" "You once heard some stupid fairy-tale or another about how your great grand-uncle the beer salesman invented fire and got saved from some mountain trolls by, let me guess, an eagle! A giant eagle that outflew the wind and killed the stonetrolls and got your uncle a beer and never accepted payment and flew away never to be seen again, wasn't that it?" The eagle sneered in disgust. "Oh, yeah. You know all about eagles. Everyone knows all about eagles." "I don't" Spiegel said, genuinely innocent. "What about eagles?" The eagle looked at Spiegel, startled. It looked into her eyes for a long moment. Then its expression softened. "You really don't, do you?" it said. "You haven't heard all the old stories." "No" Spiegel said. "I didn't get out much." The eagle nodded. Then it began to sing quietly. It is said by the loremasters that Lustyanne of old taught the birds how to sing and that in their voices one can hear the beauty of her voice but the eagles must not have been there for class that day because this one's song came out mainly as a series of harsh, rusty-sounding croaks: Far off in time in ancient days When ancient powers ruled the world Were eagles made. They grew in strength And ate their food from Manwe's hand. At least at first. But then the King found work for us and sent us off To watch the world or guard some pass Or tidings bring. And so we flew Like errand-boys around the world To interfere at Manwe's word. For years and years as Ages passed We did the work. The news we brought, The Dragons fought, the heroes saved With never thanks. And after time We formed resent. The Gods all sat Upon their mountain drinking beer While all the Eagles did the work. "Oh Eagle, please put out that fire, Get me a drink, fetch me a sword! Be quick about it." For all that Nobody ever gave us thought, Sang out our tale, wrote us a poem. Deus ex machina was our fate. And yet we bore indignities In stoic silence. So it went Until Atlantis. Then that fool Called Manwe got this bright idea! "I'll scare those guys! To them I'll send My eagles cloth'd in clouds of night, And lightning will fall from their crowns." And off we went. That stupid fool! He gave no thought to our well-being And sent us off to Numenor With lightning-rods and Van de Graffs To generate electric charge, Uninsulated! Scare the Men? We scared ourselves and scarred ourselves Much worse than they. And many died, like Thorondor our mighty King Who took a hit was shocked and burned And fell to ruin. We left for good, And Manwe had to sink them all Without our help. And now we live in Middle-earth on mountain-tops and hidden caves. We answer not When Manwe calls. We fly for fun And laugh at men and steal their sheep. In legends we don't interfere. We might fly out and help someone Just for a laugh or for a bribe Of mutton dear, if such we seek. But "Ooo, a Quest!" won't get you more than laughing scorn or falling rocks. What do you think?" the eagle concluded. "It's a bit long" Sam muttered. "Anyway, after that bit of Second Age stupidity we eagles have kept mostly to ourselves. It's nothing personal, but we've gotta look out for ourselves, y'know. It's kind of funny but-" the eagle leaned a little closer to Spiegel and spoke conspiratorially "after we'd left Manwe had t'do his own housekeeping as far as the world's concerned, y'see? He couldn't lean on us anymore, so now he starts this new policy of 'Oh, don't want to go directly inter- ferin' in the world any longer,' 'cause he don't want t'do it himself, y'see? Personally, I think he's just a lazy bastard." "Oh" Sam said. There wasn't much to say. "Well, thanks anyway" Spiegel said. "I liked your story. I'm sorry we intruded on your time." "Yeah, thanks a lot, sorry to disturb you, we'll just take our pervert back downstairs now" Sam added. Then he stopped. He had forgotten about the stairs. "Uh, Mr Eagle" he started again nervously. "Do you think you could just maybe fly us back to Minas Tirith? Or, well, just to the base of the Tower? I'll give you a sandwich. It's got corned beef, see, look." The eagle ignored him. "Oh, the stairs" Spiegel frowned. "I'd forgotten about the stairs." The great bird looked up. "You don't wanna take the stairs, miss?" he asked her. "Can I give you a ride to the ground?" "Oh would you?" Spiegel smiled. "Happy to" the eagle replied. "You're a good listener and you seem friendly. And you didn't ask me to go on any quests" he added, spitting out the word. "Come on. We can talk some more on the way down." It seized her in a giant talon and stretched its mighty wings. "Heh! You don't weigh anything at all" it said. Spiegel smiled brightly and hugged the bird's ankle affectionately. They flew gracefully over the wall. "When will you be back for us?" Sam called out. "Heh!" the eagle snorted. "You two can walk." It was dusk of the next day before Frodo and Sam finally made it back down the stairs. "Ye'll never see me using a staircase again for the rest o' my life" Sam grumbled. "Not ever ever ever." "I don't know what's coming over me, Sam" Frodo said. "I think the Ring is affecting me. All my thoughts are becoming twisted. I fear I'm only going to get more perverse as we near Mordor." "Tough break for ye" Sam muttered. Frodo nodded. "Last night as I was climbing the Tower I even hallucinated. I thought I heard you making love to that scarecrow. Hah! If you could even imagine that." Sam's eyes blazed red fury, but he said nothing. They came out the great doors and found Spiegel waiting for them in the street. "That eagle was so nice" she smiled. "And look! He left us some mutton! And he gave me a card with the name of a good therapist on it." Frodo almost replied, but a sudden elbow from Sam cut him off. "Oh, sorry, Master" he said with only a little biting irony. Later on they found the bridges to Minas Tirith were all out, and so they unwillingly went back to the cross-roads from whence they came. Late on the third night they made it back to the crossing, where they found Gullible sitting on a rock idly drumming his fingers. "'Sss about time you made it back, saddam" he hissed. gimlet