Write Your Own LOTR - TTT - Book III

[Dínelleth]

Now Legolas was accustom to feeling the sensation of his fan girls dreaming about him from time to time. But when a woman's dream angrily over rode them all he was first surprised by it then curious. So he gently replied back to her sleeping mind by softly thinking "Who is now dreaming of me?"

[Linaewen]

Boromir -- not for the first time suddenly finding himself among Eomer's eored -- was confused and momentarily at a loss for words. He had been on his way to appear in a vision to Faramir, in order to relieve his boredom -- night watchman duty on the Anduin being notoriously dull -- and now here he was, being accosted by a very muddy Eomer.

Is my ghostly presence doomed to be at the beck and call of anyone in Middle-earth who happens to be thinking of me? he wondered, looking sidelong at Eomer and the scowling Eothain. That could be inconvenient!

He decided to cover his confusion with irritability.

"Speak not to me of 'dead upon the ground'!" he grumbled testily. "That memory is still too fresh for comfort. But since I am here -- however that may be -- let me just set the matter straight on this horse business. It is not I who lose the horses, my friend. It is they who lose me! I should seek compensation from the Rohirrim for damage to a brand new pair of the Gondorian boots, worn away to nothing from having to walk all the way to Rivendell after that horse you loaned me left me alone in the wilderness. However, since I am no longer in any condition to worry about new boots, I shall let you off this time."

Pulling out the Script which the Powers That Be had allowed him to carry -- now that he was dead and supposedly out of the story -- Boromir read through it quickly.

"I fear I cannot remain, friend Eomer," he said after a moment's reading. "I am due shortly to appear to my brother in a ghostly vision and I must be off to find all the props I need for that. But before I go, I think I ought to warn you to get the hair out of your eyes and make certain you do not slaughter any non-Orc type person in the heat of battle. It is vital to the storyline! What is a non-Orc type person, you ask? Alas! I can say no more, else it would be considered a Spoiler."

He slapped Eomer on the back, briefly wondering if he could even feel it, then waved as he drifted off in the general direction of the Anduin.

"Have fun destroying the Orcs, and let me know if you have any more trouble with that apple-wielding counselor of yours. I shall come haunt him, if I am free. The Ghost of Gondor shall see it done!"

[daughter_of_kings]

Eowyn sat bolt upright, eyes wide, startled awake by the voice of the Elf in her head. "He spoke to me," she whispered to the darkness.

The shock passed in a moment, though, and she snuggled back under the covers with a dreamy smile and a long sigh. Her fair prince had a nice voice, she thought. But now that she wanted to be dreaming, she couldn't seem to fall back to sleep.

[Dínelleth]

Legolas's curiosity grew when the woman didn't respond. Now despite his being careful he could've still awaken her if she wasn't use to hearing an unfamilar voice in her head or she may not have wished for her identity to be known just yet. Either way the Prince had found a possible something more pleasant to counter balance him being a babysitter for Aragorn who was still chasing after the butterflies thank goodness. Also he noted that no Rohirrim had showed up yet so his skipping would remain a secret unless Aragorn and Gimli started blabbing about it when they did show up. Then he sighed. Maybe he could claim temporary insanity as a defense...

[agape4rivendell]

Eomer watched in surprise as Boromir's mouth moved - but no sound could he hear. He bellowed to his men to shut their mouths - but, once silence reigned, still - no words could he hear from the doughty Boromir!

Eothan pulled his horse next to Eomer's and waved his hand over his lord's eyes. "What are you doing? Stopping us like this? We must continue to yell and scream and sing weighty war songs!"

"Do you not give honour to the Lord Boromir?"

"Boromir?"

"Look! There! By the Orc head, Eothan. He has the script!" Eomer stood in his stirrups and waved frantically. "What does it say, Lord Boromir? Will I win renown with this battle? Do I get top billing in the next installment?"

He sat back dejectedly as Boromir's hand passed through him and the man of Gondor disappeared... nay, faded away. "Hmmm - is that the way Elves fade?"

Eothain hit him over the head with a spear. "Onward! We must be onward. The last of the Orcs and two odd looking creatures are getting away!!!!"

[daughter_of_kings]

When Eowyn finally drifted back into slumber, it did not go as she had hoped. Oh, she dreamed... that she was fighting an Orc and her sword turned into a large blade of grass... that Grima was asking Theoden for her hand and her uncle was going to agree... that Eomer returned victorious from battle after battle, and the people threw flowers at his feet. Nightmares all. Where, oh where was her shining Elf prince on his silver horse?

[Laiquendi]

Suddenly, into Éowyn's dream rode Aragorn outfitted with two large plastic pointed ears, atop of a rather shabby and broken free-floating merry-go-round horse, whilst a wind-machine off-camera tried desperately to dislodge his matted hair, at the same time as munching on a jam sandwich (without the crusts). Quickly wiping the crumbles from his still-chewing mouth, and completely ignoring the large drop of jam slowly making its way down the front of his jacket, Aragorn stopped (in mid-float) before the gentle maiden.

"I..." He began, standing upright on the horse and spreading his arms wide, which resulted in the remains of his sandwich landing right onto Éowyn's face. "...am Sir Lack-o-legs of Leicester-Shire! A brave knight come at your beckoning call!"

"Umm... you seem to have a little something on your face..." He then pointed out to the jammy-lady by politely tapping the side of his cheek in demonstration.

Dismounting his steed in style (which involved three double somersaults, a large bunch of wilting dandelions, and an imagination the size of Papua New Guinea), the brave Sir strode up to the fair damsel and stood proud for all to stare in wonder.

"I am your knight in shining armour!" At which point his dire attire was replaced by an assorted collection of tin-foil wrapped bandages and a saucepan on his head. The glare from the foil almost blinding the bedazzled maiden (which is never a bad thing when impressing a lady, you know).

"Or, perhaps, your knight in fine Highland knit-wear!" Which, to further confuse the situation, resulting in a rather fetching collection of woollen cardigans, crocheted trousers and a selection of rather-itchy underwear. The saucepan was now replaced by a head-consuming tea-cosy that obscured his face beneath the multiple layers of fine Scottish lamb.

Deftly removing the tea-cosy, and finding a large tray complete with teapot, china cups and saucers balanced precariously on his head, the kindly Sir poured himself two cups of Earl Grey (it wouldn't do to give a lady the packaged variety!) and presented her ladyship with a steaming beverage.

"Tea! Tea! It's time for Tea! Half Past Three! It's Three for Tea!" He began, then pulled out an over-sized pocketwatch from the large cardigan and stared at it in amazement.

"Half past three! We're late! We're late! We're going to miss the 3:45 steeple-chase at Ascot! Oh my, oh my! This'll never do!" Before anything else could be said on the matter (what, to be honest, was there else to say?), the dashing Sir triple-vaulted back on to his horse and produced a bugle from some previously hidden pocket.

Blowing quickly on the instrument, proceeded by an absurdly loud rendition of 'When the Saints go marching in', he shouted "Fore!"

Followed immediately after by "Three! Two! One!" and the knight exploded in a enormous explosion of antipodean proportions (which, if you are ever to ask an antipodean, is quite remarkable). As the cloud of smoke slowly dispelled, there was left hovering in the mist a pair of dazzling blue eyes and a disembodied pair of luscious lips.

"I bet you didn't expect that to happen!" An other-worldly voice proclaimed through the lips, before planting a rather sloppy and wet kiss on the maiden's face. With a wink of an eyeball, the eyes and lips vanished, leaving behind them the faintest aroma of fine, Leicestershire strawberry jam....

[Dínelleth]

Normally Legolas couldn't sense the dreams of females unless they were dreaming of him. But this time he suddenly found his mind one with the dreaming maiden due to the intervention of an unkown power while he watch as she tried to fight an Orc with a blade of grass, while someone by the name of Grima asked someone by the name of Theoden for her hand which nearly made her sick, and while a brother by the name of Eomer kept winning battle after battle which ticked her off royally since she wanted such acclaim too. Then just as the maiden wondered where her shining Elf prince was Legolas was startled to find himself now in her dream instead of just watching and shining while astride a silver horse just as she had invisioned. Then he saw the fair maiden standing up ahead of him on the plain and her beauty so captivated him that he instantly gave her one of his charming smiles while he began to ride over to her.

Unfortunately the maiden had to endure one last nightmare which wasn't of her making and the elf wasn't even sure the word nightmare described it adequately. He knew all to well from past experience that Aragorn was flaky upstairs but this...spectacle...surely couldn't have come from him!

Then Legolas spurred on his horse to a faster stride and soon he had the animal sliding stop before the maiden while he nimbly leapt from the saddle. After that he took out a moist towelette he suddenly had acquired and began to gently wipe the strawberry jam from the maiden's face along with the drool left behind from those weird floating lips.

"My Lady are you alright?" Legolas asked softly while he continued to smile at the fair maiden his blue eyes gazing into hers.

[daughter_of_kings]

Fate, Eowyn decided, was against her even in her dreams. It was bad enough to fight orcs and watch her dear brother get the glory. It was worse being blitz-attacked (or was that blintz-attacked?) by a creepy, greasy-haired stranger... she got enough of that from Grima. But this... this was the last straw...

The fairest prince in Middle-earth stood before her, his shining blonde hair tangling with hers in the breeze, his dazzling blue eyes gazing down into hers, his fingers (and a moist towelette) gentle on her face.

And all she could say around the strawberry drool was... "BLEH."

[Dínelleth]

Now Legolas didn't fail to notice his now shining blond hair tangling with the maiden's in the breeze. But for the first time he didn't regret not having his hair brush anymore for he liked how it look all messed up with hers. And the longer he gazed into the maiden's lovely blue eyes while he continued to clean her strawberry drool covered face the more he became captivated by her pale beauty which lay underneath.

Finally he had successfully removed the last of the strawberry drool from her face and the now used moist towelette vanished just as mysteriously as it had appeared. Then he gently let the finger tips of one hand lightly caress their way down the right side of her face while he gave her an encouraging smile.

"I'm sure you meant to say something more then just "BLEH" earlier," he said softly. "Perhaps you could tell me your name fair maiden?"

[daughter_of_kings]

"Eowyn", she meant to say, but the only sound that came out of her mouth was the whispered huff of her breath. Her voice was gone, as surely as if Ursula the Sea-Witch had stolen it, a victim of her dream.

She gave an exasperated sigh, then gestured with one hand at her throat sweeping up and out and then a slashing motion, to pantomime her voice being cut off. She hoped desperately that her fair prince was good at Charades.

[Dínelleth]

Suddenly Legolas sprang back out of the way since he had misread the maiden's gestures to mean that she now thought she was going to hurl but would hold it in till he was out of range.

"I'm not surprised you feel that way. That strawberry drool was disgusting!" he said in an understanding tone of voice while he waited patiently for her to get it over with.

[Eruvanne]

As Pippin followed Merry, dashing behind orc after orc, he, for some reason, lost his friend amidst the confusion of the riders. Looking furtively around, Pippin could not locate his friend anywhere. Seeing a horse nearby, he ran up to it. Not remembering that horses could not talk, he asked it a question. "Excuse, Mr. Horse, but have you seen a fellow just about my size, maybe a little smaller, run past this way?"

The horse just stared at the hobbit with large brown eyes. Pippin waited anxiously for the horse to respond for he was in a hurry to find Merry. "Well, sir, we haven't got all day, or night as the case may be."

The horse then heard something, whinied loudly, bolted towards the forest.

"Wait, hold up, whoa!" cried Pippin chasing after him. "I didn't understand what you . . ." He never finished what he was going to say for at that moment a tree suddenly loomed in his way and Pippin, bonking his head on it, fell senseless to the ground.

[MerryK]

Meanwhile, back on the farm—forest, in the continued absence of the fool of a Took, Merry had come to an imporant revelation.

"I have come to an important revelation," he said, and did not notice the nodding branches behind them, for he did not, in fact, have eyes on the back of his head. "Pippin is a Took and Tooks are pranksters. He is playing some sort of game with me."

Merry had never had high hopes for the intelligence of trees, but had he seen the branches once again nodding behind him, he might have been pleasurably surprised at how they appreciated his superbly performed little speech.

He looked out of the forest to see a wide range of chaos. "Ah, Pippin, you have done your work well. This will be a game to remember. " He stepped forward bravely, and, cupping both hands around his mouth, hollered:

"Ready or not, here I come!"

[Primula]

Treebeard hoomed to himself and stretched out his toes, digging what appeared to be a crumbling row of gopher-tunnels all in a trice. The sun was warm, the trees were humming a nice little tune, the same one they had been working on for the past 30 years or so, they were almost to the chorus and it made for a very rousing sort of day.

Off in the distance something moved and sparkled in the sun, bits of mud flew up into the air improbably high and there was a slight rumbling clatter of battle being met. He blinked, figuring by the time he was done blinking it would be over. It was more to his interest that there was a movement in the bushes.