Fellowship of the King Book II Chapter Eleven: Secret Meetings, Part I

[masterghandalf]

This is a repost from Das_sporking2. Previous installments of this sporking may be found here.



MG: Well, everyone, it’s time to continue our journey through Demetrious Polychron’s Fellowship of the King! Last time… Dear Eru Iluvatar and all the Valar, how do we even describe everything that happened last time? Today, we move onto the penultimate chapter – but not quite the penultimate sporking post, because this one’s long and we’re splitting it in two, and then we still have the lawsuit and my final thoughts to cover – and, well, it’s mostly going to be dedicated to resolving various loose ends, actually. Joining us today will be Shade and Tharkos!

Chapter 11: Secret Meetings

Shade: Sounds just riveting (I mean, I’m all for intrigue, normally, but I don’t trust Polychron to deliver it, like, at all). And, uh, looking back over some of what happened last time, I’m kind of sad I missed it, because damn.

Elanor woke to the setting Sun. The water filling the valley below her was calm as a lake.

Tharkos: A lake that is filled with corpses after the previous chapter’s events, no doubt.

The wreckage of Rivendell, all that remained of that once fair land, floated here and there on the placid surface.

MG: I said it last time, but I’ll say it again – turning Rivendell, of all places, into the lair of one of the fic’s main villains and then destroying it so casually just feels incredibly insensitive and mean-spirited. Maybe if Polychron had done a better job of selling the horror of Rivendell becoming “Glorfindell” *snorts* and that this was the only thing that could be done, it could have been a powerful, bittersweet moment… but he didn’t.

Take That, Tolkien!: 56

“We searched her fingers, clothes, everywhere,” Elladan told Alatar and Incánus. “She is not wearing an invisible Ring of Power.”

“Perhaps she has hidden it somewhere else,” Incánus said. “Somewhere you might be… disinclined to search. Perhaps it can still be found, by someone less – prudish.”

Shade: Well, you’re a creep. I’m assuming this is about Arwen and her random betrayal from last time, but in any case, kids, word of advice – don’t trust a man who’s this eager to strip-search a woman (or anyone else, for that matter). Because he’s probably up to no good.

Pervy Hobbit Fanciers: 88

“Do not speak of our sister like that,” Elrohir said, standing beside Elladan. Their eyes glowed with pale blue light. “Do not even think it! You will not touch her. She has no Ring.”

Tharkos: Well, bloodthirsty murderers the twins may be, but at least they have some sense of propriety, at least.

“Where is your wedding ring?” Eldarion asked his mother.

“It was stolen by Thüringel,” she answered.

To Elanor’s eyes, though Arwen tried to maintain her usual air of inscrutability, certain muscles in her face were more relaxed than others. She wasn’t certain, yet it seemed beneath her flat exterior, the Queen was secretly happy to have sown dissent among the company.

Shade: …of course she was.

MG: And also, I guess Elanor became an initiate into the Bene Gesserit off-page, to have gained such ability to read that much information from very minute changes of expression. Who’d have guessed?

The Unfair Sex: 158 (spoilers, Arwen’s not herself right now, but I’m still counting it)

Fastred rowed his boat full of food he’d collected from the flotsam and jetsam.

MG: Not unlike Merry and Pippin (though they weren’t in an actual boat, they just found provisions in the wreckage)! This is the fall of Isengard all over again! Except there, the book explicitly shows the Ents making sure to keep actual casualties to a minimum (and most of Saruman’s army had already left anyway, leaving only a token force to hold Isengard itself) whereas a lot more people died here, which makes it seem a lot more ghoulish.

On the prow stood the baby dragon with his wings and tail spread. He felt the flow of the gentle breezes hardening his skin and pulling tight the webbing between his outstretched metacarpals.

They reached the cliff. The dragon shook like a bird fluttering its feathers. He folded his wings and walked over the gunwale on his hands and feet. Climbing up an oar, he settled on Fastred’s shoulder. Still not secure in his footing or perch, he held onto Fastred’s head and curled his tail around the hobbit’s neck. Fastred stepped ashore carrying a large pouch of food.

“What’s its name?” Elanor asked.

“His name’s Belethor,” he answered. Opening the pouch, he tossed a fresh cut of meat up. Belethor snatched it out of the air and munched it down, licking his long snout.

MG: Hmmm. This could be Sindarin and mean something like “strong-swooping,” which seems like a reasonably appropriate name for a dragon.

“I like it,” she said, stroking the baby dragon’s back. Balancing, he arched his wings and tail, snarling low and long, like a purr. “Hello Belethor. Where’d you get the name?”

“I didn’t,” Fastred answered. “He told me his name. He’s very intelligent.”

MG: …this, however, is pure “cliched dragon-rider fantasy,” that isn’t really based on… anything in Middle-earth I can tell. Arda’s dragons, aside from being usually hostile to mortals, aren’t telepathic (well, they can influence the minds of others in various ways – Glaurung gets a lot of mileage out of it, of course, and Smaug seems to have been trying to do something similar to Bilbo in The Hobbit) and we have no indication they’re born this intelligent or imprint on people in this way. Nor do I know why a dragon would choose what’s probably a Sindarin name for himself, since Sindarin isn’t a dragon language (unless he’s like the dragons from the Temeraire books and can learn languages in the egg, and picked it up from Glorfindel).

Loremaster’s Headache: 524 (for this clearly not being a Middle-earth dragon)

At the waterline around the edge of the valley, surviving Elves, Dwarves and Men who had suffered under Glorfindel’s rule and fled before the release of the floodwaters, were slowly returning.

Tharkos: And who were very lucky not to have drowned in the flood (how many friends did they lose, I wonder?). And who, in fact, I believe have not been mentioned at all before this. Because, of course, actually demonstrating Glorfindel’s tyranny was less important than discussing his… personal parts *disgusted noise*

They began assessing the damage before beginning the long and sad salvage efforts.

Shade: *flatly* Wow. Way to convey the tragedy of the thing, Polychron. I’m so moved by all this.

* * * * *

The water slowly sank. The rivers and falls started settling into their beds. Wet ground emerged. Celendrian, Niphredil and Pingyang rode up on their horses. Manus and Malvia, Sam and Rosie rode through the narrow clef atop their Oliphaunts with the Haradrim warriors.

Shade: Alatar, to everyone’s confusion, arrived on a Pegasus.

Elboron, Xiang, Ӕlfwine, his sisters and the Daughters of Rohan returned from hunting and destroying the few remnants of Glorfindel’s armies that had escaped the lethal flood.

Tharkos: And that, I suppose, was the entire contribution of the great army Celendrian inexplicably gathered and brought, somehow in secret, to Rivendell – to hunt and chase down stragglers. What a magnificent well-put-together story this is. I can only hope those soldiers are being properly paid.

Elboron and Celendrian went searching on their own. The others looked for bodies or any trace of Glorfindel or Thüringel.

Shade: Sorry, kids, but I somehow doubt they’ve stuck around. And what about Ulbandi, or any of the others who were still around – are you going to bother looking for them?

Not long after, Elboron found their trail. He and Celendrian returned to Eldarion.

Elboron reported, “They were swept up in the flood and carried out of the valley.”

Tharkos: I suppose we are not going to get any explanation for how they survived when so many drowned, then, or how Elboron actually determined this?

Later, he found Theo’s scorched sword belt, scabbard, Sting, mithril coat, his timbarëmírë and the Sky-stone, buried beneath the wreckage of the House of Glorfindel.

Shade: *snorts* Well, it was damned lucky those didn’t get carried off too, wasn’t it?

In the following weeks, they started exchanging letters by post riders with Arnor, Gondor, Rohan and Lindon.

MG: …I’m assuming that these are, like, actual messengers with Celendrian’s army, but the phrasing makes me imagine that they’re actually using the Shire postal service. To deliver letters from “Middle of Nowhere, Eriador” all across Middle-earth. Wow; those hobbits really are efficient!

Sam, Rosie and Elanor were overjoyed to learn Frodo had managed to stay ahead of the roving bands of Orcs and Orcelven, leading his brothers and sisters to safety.

Tharkos: A presumably exciting tale of which it seems we shall learn absolutely nothing.

Círdan himself had written. He assured them no harm would come to their family in the Havens.

A few weeks later, the Master Meriadoc of Buckland arrived with his son Boromir, who everyone called Ronny, Theo’s younger brother. Ronny’s best friend Faramir Took also came, who everyone called Remy. They brought with them a large contingent of hobbits.

MG: …I’m still a bit confused as to how we get “Remy” from “Faramir,” and also thinking that “Ronny and Remy” sound like cartoon characters, or possibly a comedy duo, and that a stereotypically French name like “Remy” (even if it’s a nickname in this context) just feels very out of place in Middle-earth to begin with.

During a solemn ceremony of grief and remembrance outside the Great House, Merry accepted from Eldarion, Theo’s sword belt, all that was left of his son.

Shade: So… is this the presumably waterlogged remains of Elrond’s Last Homely House they’re doing this outside of, or some other “Great House” that we’ve been hitherto unaware of?

It was the saddest day of Elanor’s life.

MG: …not that the author is doing a very good job of making us feel the sorrow, IMO…

Standing beside her parents, Fastred, Alatar, Eldarion, Calcarin and the twins, she explained to him why Theo had gone with her, Fastred and Alatar to Bree, and everything that had happened since.

There were no words to console a parent who must bury the remains of their child.

MG: …that line had a lot more impact when it was Bernard Hill as Theoden who was saying it.

Through his tears, though his grief knew no bounds, Merry gathered his strength. Silencing his inconsolable cries, he told Elanor he understood.

She and Fastred were blameless. He was proud of all the extraordinary things Theo had accomplished. He knew his son wouldn’t want to take anything back, except maybe the part with Glorfindel at the end. He thanked them for having been such dear and loving friends, and for standing beside Theo to his last breath, ever-faithful companions.

Shade: And this would work so much better if we actually got to see what Merry said instead of having it summarized for us secondhand! This just makes it feel like even the author doesn’t give a damn and just wants to get on to other things!

Standing between his friends Ronny and Remy, who did their best to comfort him, Fastred was a wreck, the worst by far of all of them. Merry took what scant consolation he could by comforting Fastred, Sam and Rosie. He also accepted the most solemn thanks from Eldarion, who was filled with grief at the death of his friend.

“Though we knew each other a short time, as people measure the years of their lives,” Eldarion told Merry. “Many times more than the lives of Men will I remember the courage and laughter of my dear friend, Théoden. He never let me down or failed to make me smile.”

MG: I, on the other hand, mostly remember him as that guy who hung around with Fastred, occasionally insisted on reminding everyone he was Merry’s son, and got an inexplicable magical orb he never got a chance to use.

“Thank you, Prince,” Merry told him, bowing low.

“Do not thank the Prince,” Eldarion said. “Theo was not a Prince’s friend. He was my friend. A real friend. A friend who, however kind, spoke his true mind. He would not lie to me, because he valued me for myself. Nor would he fail to tell me if he believed I was wrong.”

Tharkos: And clearly, we have to summarize this relationship now that Theo is dead, because Polychron certainly never worked to establish it while he was alive…

“Such friends are worth their weight in gold,” Alatar told him.

“Such friends are not measured by precious metals or the treasures of the earth, my friend,” Eldarion said kindly, laying his hand on Alatar’s shoulder. “True friends are measured by the invaluably precious memories they leave behind, the priceless heirlooms of the heart.”

Shade: That’s a nice sentiment. Why’s it the callow prince telling the wise wizard that, instead of the other way around?

“Thank you, Eldarion,” Merry said. “That means more to me than you know.”

“You are wrong,” Eldarion told him. “I do know. For these are things Theo and I shared, which my father shares with you. There are very few alive who have done as much for me personally.

Shade: …such as?

Fewer still, almost no one except you, Sam and those assembled here, who have done as much as Théoden Brandybuck, son of the Master Meriadoc of Buckland, for the betterment of all kingdoms.

Tharkos: *snorts* Ah, yes. He… failed to kill Glorfindel, and failed to use the magical orb he was granted, and mostly existed in the background of other characters’ actions, and none of what Eldarion is explaining here is convincing me otherwise.

On behalf of King Elessar, I give you his condolences, and his thanks. And the thanks must not be forgotten of your dear friend Aragorn. Nor the debt which is owed for the life and bravery of Théoden, son of Meriadoc of Buckland, by Arnor and Gondor.”

Shade: Well, that’s nice of him, at least?

Arwen hugged Merry. He was a friend she’d known for years and cherished. She told him she admired him as much as she admired any man or woman in the Kingdoms. Merry knew how extraordinary and rare were her praises.

Shade: And why does it feel like we had to work in a swipe at Arwen even while she’s being nice?

The Unfair Sex: 159

So seldom given, he couldn’t help but value them more. He felt the fullness of her affection and the sincerity of her praise for his deeds and those of his son. Theo had ridden to her rescue through many battles and great danger. Saving the Queen, he had proven himself a true and faithful companion to the Crown Prince, her son.

MG: If you think Polychron has suddenly decided to cut Arwen a break… don’t forget that she tried to attack her brothers last chapter (why exactly is she still running around free, then?), and we’re going to be getting an explanation for that before long…

The most touching tribute came from Elladan and Elrohir. At the height of the memorial, they produced a dazzlingly bright diamond set in a simple mithril filigree.

“This was Théoden’s timbarëmírë,” Elladan told him, “forged in Númenor. The first was worn by the Númenórean Queen Erendis. It has ever been a symbol among us of the highest trust and greatest honor. During the battle of the Pelennor Fields, where you distinguished yourself in combat against the Nazgûl King, we and Elessar wore our own timbarëmírë.”

“I remember…” Merry said. He was filled with astonishment at the memory he’d always carried, but only now understood.

Tharkos: I was under the impression that the twins were invisible during that battle, which is why their deeds went unrecorded… and that Merry and Aragorn were not particularly near each other on the battlefield, and indeed by the time Aragorn arrived Merry was already succumbing to the Black Breath from klling the Witch-king and wasn’t particularly aware of his surroundings.

“This we gave our friend Theo,” Elrohir said. “Even among Elves, few are those we have named friend and to fewer have we given timbarëmírë, for few are worthy. Théoden, son of the Master Meriadoc of Buckland, was one of them.”

“Take this and be glad,” Elladan told him. “Your son, like you, distinguished himself through many perils and the greatest dangers, ever displaying unflinching courage and grace. The Sons of Elrond shall ever be friends and allies to you and your kin in the House of Brandybuck, whose heroes now stand proudly among the greatest who have ever lived.”

Shade: I know, I know, this is supposed to be honoring Theo… but it kind of makes it sound like it’s only because of Theo that they’ll be swearing eternal friendship with the Brandybucks, as if Merry wasn’t already an accomplished hero and friend of their brother-in-law in his own right.

Merry accepted Theo’s timbarëmírë, staring at it with wonder. He put it in a pouch inside his shirt against his heart. Sad, yet somehow heartened in the heart of his mourning, grateful and brimming with love, his memories and love for his son warred with his grief, and always would.

The morning came for Merry and his hobbit’s departure for the Shire. They planned to have Theo’s funeral there, despite the absence of a body.

MG: If they did have a body, they’d have buried him in an unmarked grave in the middle of the Trollshaws. Hobbit funerary traditions were weird.

Eldarion asked him, Sam and Fastred to come to a small private council room for a secret meeting. He asked Sam to wear his mithril coat, and for both of them to come armed with their swords.

Tharkos: When Fastred brought a spear by mistake, he was refused entry until he returned with the proper implement.

Elladan led the Lady Drendelen in, hand-in-hand. Their eyes were ever on each other. Eldarion introduced them. Sam realized he’d never met such a shy Elvish woman.

Shade: Yeah, I guess being betrayed and locked up in the basement of your own home by someone you thought was a friend for Four-know-how-long will do that to a girl.

Graceful and so very beautiful, Drendelen rarely looked into anyone’s eyes, except Elladan’s. Yet she listened intently. Her questions were incisive and her comments, precise.

Tharkos: And once again, Polychron insists on simply describing this remotely, rather than showing it. I cannot help but feel his heart isn’t actually in this chapter.

“Now that Lady Drendelen has been found, it seems every Court in Middle-earth has offered a king’s ransom for her services,” Eldarion told them.

Shade: Gah, already!? The woman was only just rescued from a terrible ordeal, and now all anyone cares about is how much stuff they can get out of her? *beat* Actually, for this fic, that kind of figures.

“King Éomer has commissioned a sculpture of Eorl, and another of King Théoden hewing the serpent banner. Prince Faramir has asked for a sculpture of Éowyn slaying the Fell Beast,

Tharkos: …was killing the Witch-king himself, a far greater feat, simply judged to be something incapable of being captured in stone?

MG: Uh, not quite, as we’ll see in a minute… also, is it just me or do marble statues, however well made, not really seem like a very “Rohirrim” sort of thing? I can only imagine they’ll look very out of place on display in Meduseld.

and another of his brother Boromir. The list of requests from the Elves of Lindon, Tolfalas and Dorwinion, among many other Elvish realms, is too long to recount.

MG: “Tolfalas” is an island in the Bay of Belfalas, near Dol Amroth. It was never, to my knowledge, noted as being inhabited by anyone, much less an “Elvish realm” being there. Dorwininion is only mentioned briefly as a kingdom or city on the western coast of the Sea of Rhun, known for producing very high-quality wine that the Lakemen of Esgaroth and the elves of the Woodland Realm, presumably among others, are known to buy. Considering its location it was probably inhabited either by Easterling Men or Avari elves; I don’t think Tolkien ever specifies either way, though I find either possibility intriguing myself.

Loremaster’s Headache: 525 (while Dorwinion may – or may not – have been an elven realm, still giving a point for Tolfalas)

Even my father has requested a new work.”

“What does Elessar want?” Sam asked.

“A likeness of Frodo bearing the Phial of Galadriel,” Eldarion answered.

MG: …okay, that one checks out.

“That one may be the hardest,” Merry said. “Anyone else’s face on the statue won’t do.”

Shade: Yeah, I can imagine some kings would use themselves as a model for Frodo in a statue like that, which would be pretty ridiculous; luckily I’m pretty sure Aragorn has more restraint than that.

“Fortunately,” Drendelen told them, not looking a day over twenty.

MG: …which is not unusual for elves, who don’t really age (as mortals would recognize ageing, at least) once they hit adulthood, unless they’ve suffered some terrible trauma? So, I’m a bit confused as to why Polychron felt the need to specify it, unless he wanted to make sure we all know she looks young and therefore Hot (which, again, goes without saying, because Elf).

She opened her large artist’s scratch pad and smiled at the memory. “I sketched Frodo years ago when the four of you first came to Rivendell.”

“Thanks to the never-to-be-underestimated persuasive power of Prince Elladan,” Eldarion told them, smiling. “The Lady Drendelen has graced me with the privilege of being first to commission a new work from her.”

Shade: Well, it sounds to me like bloody well everyone already has!

“Congratulations!” Sam said.

“What have you requested?” Merry asked.

Eldarion looked pensive and excited. “This is a surprise for everyone we know, including my father. If you agree, you must keep this in the strictest confidence. Only the six of us here will speak of this until the pieces are presented to the King. Are we agreed?”

“Of course,” Sam told him.

“Most certainly,” Merry responded.

Tharkos: This could be a very risky promise, depending on just what Eldarion is asking for…

“If you approve,” Eldarion said, “Lady Drendelen will do sketches now and sculpt in white marble later, the Master Meriadoc wielding his Barrow-blade on the Pelennor Fields.”

“Against the High King of the Nazgûl,” Sam realized, wide-eyed.

MG: Wait a minute. Eowyn, who actually killed the Witch-king, only gets depicted killing his mount while Merry, who only wounded the Witch-King (albeit in a crucial moment and matter) actually gets depicted doing the deed? Seriously, Polychron?

The Unfair Sex: 160

“And you Sam,” Eldarion told him. “Wearing your mithril coat, thrusting Sting two handed, straight up.”

“Into Shelob,” Merry said.

Shade: Can’t wait to see where you all get a realistic model for the giant demon spider from. This is gonna be great.

* * * * *

Elanor gave Merry letters for her friends. These included his daughters, Esme and Prissy, and her uncle Tom’s children; her best friend Bell and Bell’s brother Reggie. Merry, Ronny and Remy, and their hobbits and escorts from Elessar, rode out of Rivendell. At the border waited Treebeard with a large host of Ents and Huorns.

MG: …having turned up too late to do anything against the Legion of Doom, but it’s the thought that counts!

“Treebeard!” Merry cried, astounded. He introduced Ronny and Remy.

“I am very sorry for the loss of your son,” Treebeard told him. “When I heard hobbits and your homelands had been threatened by Glorfindel and Ulbandi, Elessar and I agreed: it is our duty to protect you. We are going to the Shire to guard your borders. We do not wish to repeat the mistakes of the last War of the Ring, allowing any more devastation in your country. Who knows? Perhaps in the West we may yet find the Entwives.”

MG: While, iirc, Tolkien indicated that the ents never did find the entwives, there is the matter of that walking tree Sam’s cousin apparently saw up in the Northfarthing one time… but on a more serious note, this is basically going to shut down the villains’ plan to attack the Shire before it gets underway (because as Saruman found out, you don’t mess with the ents!) rendering the buildup to that threat, as nonsensical as it was, pointless. Yaay.

Before they left, Treebeard sent Ronny back on his pony to fetch Fastred and Belethor.

When they arrived at the Ent-camp,

Tharkos: *raising an eyebrow* Ents make camps?

they found a large boulder waiting. It had been split apart by the old Ent, sheered flat on top and sitting open like a table. It was set with three tall stone jars with heavy lids. Beside them lay a ladle, one very large bowl and five smaller ones.

Treebeard removed the lids. Inside, the clean and clear water glowed. One jar glowed with a warm golden light. Another, with a rich green light. The third, with a hot red light. He carefully ladled the same mixture from the three jars into the six bowls. Picking up the big bowl, he directed the hobbits to each lift one of the smaller ones.

“Share water!” Treebeard said.

Shade: *nervous* That sounded like an order. What if I don’t want to share water, Master Treebeard, sir? Do I have the option of saying no to this?

He drank his whole bowlful in one long, slow drink. If he was gulping, they couldn’t hear it.

“Never thirst!” Merry said. Picking his bowl up, he started drinking, savoring the rich and aromatic flavors. Ronny and Remy did the same, as did Fastred.

Belethor sniffed his bowl dubiously. Watching the others drink, he dipped his long tongue in and sucked it back into his mouth. His face brightened. Picking his bowl up, he drained it in one long gulp.

MG: …you know, when I first read this fic, I really wasn’t expecting the same story that introduced Estel Edgelord, Prince of Rape to end up heavily focusing on cutesy baby dragon antics.

Fastred felt the effects of the Ent-draught begin in his toes. Looking down, he swore he could almost see the hairs on his feet curling. A great vigor spread through his limbs. He felt his lungs expanding and his nasal passages contracted. A great wind-like breath filled his chest and his mind grew quick, yet calm, like swiftly flowing currents beneath a placid river surface.

Shade: I’ve had drinks like that. Good times!

Belethor gagged. His eyes watered and a cloud of smoke rose from his mouth and nostrils. Coughing, he spat acid and it hit a rock. The acid bubbled over the stone and melted it, filling the air with smoke and the smell of sulfur. Abruptly lifting his head, he opened his mouth and a great shoot of fire blasted up in a searing column of bright white-hot flame.

Tharkos: I think that perhaps someone should train the infant living siege weapon to not release random bursts of fire when excited.

The hobbits cried out and jumped back, afraid they’d be burned by the terrible heat. “Belethor!” Fastred yelled, rushing over.

The baby dragon made strange gargling sounds, like laughter. He jumped into Fastred’s arms and hugged him. Leaping over the table with his wings spread, he glided onto Treebeard’s trunk. Taking hold, he folded his wings and ran in ascending circles up under Treebeard’s long grey whiskers and up into the branches above the Ent’s head. Standing, he spread his wings and fanned the large mass of leaves. They fluttered in waves, as if caught in a rolling breeze.

“Ho-hoom!” Treebeard laughed. “It seems your little dragon-kin liked the taste of his first Ent-draught.”

MG: See? Cutesy baby dragon antics. In this of all fics. I… I think I may need to sit down for a while. Also, considering Ent-draughts caused Merry and Pippin to grow visibly taller and healthier, do we really want to be feeding one to a freaking dragon? Was Smaug not big enough for you people!?

* * * * *

Spending so much time with his friends, Fastred could no longer bear the thought of them riding away without him. He and Belethor rode their pony back to the Shire for Theo’s funeral.

Shade: And I’m sure the horse absolutely loved having a dragon riding on its back.

Arriving home, he received a hero’s welcome. People lined the Great East Road, cheering his name. They tossed flowers and shouted their thanks and good wishes for his having helped draw away the orcs and Orcelven that had been invading the Shire months before. Nothing this momentous had happened since the Bullroarer stopped an invasion of goblins at the Battle of Greenfields in 2747 of the Third Age.

MG: Scouring of the Shire? Never heard of it! Also, wow, doesn’t it seem to anyone else like all of this is a bit… excessive? “drawing away the orcs and Orcelven” here basically seems to mean “Fastred left the Shire,” and… they weren’t even after him? It was Sam and Elanor who were actually of interest to Alatar and/or the bad guys, and Fastred mostly just went along because he’s crushing on Elanor. Sure, he’s got the Turin-stone, and he hatched a baby dragon, but those have essentially nothing to do with anything that happened in the Shire. It just seems really abundantly clear to me that Polychron is showing a tremendous amount of favoritism to this character, and yet another reason why I have a sneaking suspicion that Fastred, along with Eldarion (and maybe the twins), is one of Polychron’s wish-fulfilment/self-insert characters.

Take That, Tolkien!: 57 (apparently Fastred is more popular than people who actually organized the liberation of the Shire from an extended occupation)

He had always been popular, but never like this. Everyone wanted to touch him and hear his story.

Tharkos: *disbelieving* Touch him? Is the boy a saint now, with the power to bestow blessings by his mere presence?

They were overawed by the things he had done with Elanor, Eldarion and Alatar, and more than a little scared of Belethor.

Shade: *rolling her eyes* Oh, yeah. We’re laying this on real thick, aren’t we.

They were met by Merry’s wife Stella, and their daughters Prissy and Esme. Remy’s father and mother, Pippin and Diamond came. Tom Cotton and his wife Mary were there,

Shade: …and now we’ve got a “Mary” and a “Merry” in the same group! That’s going to be awkward.

MG: I also can’t help but feel like “Mary,” considering its real-world significance, is a name that stands out as really not fitting in Middle-earth.

with his daughter Bell and younger son Reggie; and a great many other well respected Shire folk.

They were amazed meeting Treebeard and his Ents, although frightened by the silent Huorns.

MG: Considering what Huorns tend to do to mortals when they meet them without being kept under control by the ents, I’d say that’s a healthy and rational fear.

Everyone felt it: strange times had come. Legends and mythological beings were in their lands.

MG: Eh; I liked it better when Aragorn and Eomer were having a conversation on this very topic when they met in Rohan in Two Towers. And I think this also really hits home how Polychron has missed the point that the late Third Age and early Fourth Age were an era of fading, as many of the ancient powers of Arda were destroyed or removed themselves from the world. This is a problem the whole fic has, instead cranking up the presence of the supernatural elements to an absurd degree… but that’s something I’m going to talk about more in my final thoughts, when I discuss how and why I think Polychron has completely missed the tone and “vibe” of Tolkien’s works.

Bigger, Louder, More!: 107

Yet they were saddened by their task: laying the scorched sword belt of Theo to rest.

At Theo’s funeral they buried his belt. There, Merry shared the adventures of his son.

Theo had died fighting beside Elanor and Fastred along with Wizards, Elven Princes and strange eyeless white-skinned creatures from beneath the earth, who were still noble warriors.

MG: Honestly, much of this just strikes me as being stuff that would be strange and impenetrable to a hobbit audience. Like, I get why you’d talk about it because it’s what actually happened to him, but I’d think you’d want to bring it home a bit more by stressing Theo’s own character and ties to the Shire over all the weird stuff that happened to him.

When news spread that Theo, the most popular Deputy Counselor, had been killed in a mismatched battle against one of the evil Fallen High Elves,

MG: Okay, one, of course he was “the most popular Deputy Counselor” (I doubt most hobbits much care who the “Deputy Counselors” even are, tbh; they don’t even seem to take the Thainship that seriously, and that’s their oldest and most celebrated office!) and for another, that wording makes it sound like “evil Fallen High Elves” are a known category of being with many members, rather than Glorfindel basically being a one-off with a very particular personal history (that we spent two chapters exploring at incredible length!) that led him to corruption.

the resentment became a great wave of anger. It flared to outrage – burning brightly throughout the Four Farthings.

Merry’s campaign to recruit Ent-riders for the War of the Rings was met with furious approval. It seemed hardly a boy or girl, man or woman was left who hadn’t volunteered to learn archery and sword craft, claiming an Ent or Huorn in defense of their homeland.

Tharkos: And since I am fairly sure there are far more hobbits than there are ents or Huorns, I can only imagine it is going to get very crowded atop them.

MG: Also, while it’s noted that hobbits do in fact have a natural faculty for bows, slings, thrown stones and other ranged weapons… I can’t imagine you’ll be doing much sword work from atop an ent, unless you’re planning on fighting trolls.

Posters began appearing throughout their lands. Some displayed a very good likeness of a crowned King Elessar pointing at the viewer with Andúril. Above his picture was the caption: “We Want Hobbits!” and bellow: “To Join The Army of Arnor & Gondor.”

MG: Okay, one, I’m wondering just who is printing these (I’m pretty sure they don’t even have the printing press anywhere in Middle-earth, though maybe it’s one of those old Numenorean technologies the Faithful brought back with them?) and two, that’s just the Uncle Sam “I Want You” poster, slightly tweaked for a Middle-earth context. And on top of the fact that was an American poster (and therefore jarringly out of place in the rural-England-inspired Shire) it’s just… maybe you could rip off something a little less famous, Polychron? Because the resemblance is just a little too on-the-nose, otherwise.

Clearly there was clever, hitherto unknown and unheralded artist hidden somewhere in the Shire. Another popular poster featured a drawing of Theo, holding an impressive composite bow, even though he’d never touched one, riding an Ent into battle captioned: “For Theo!”

Shade: …I’d be a bit worried someone was paying this person or persons to manipulate the hobbits into going to war, myself. Does no one think this is a bit suspicious? And of course, everyone knows and loves Theo, apparently. *rolls her eyes*

That phrase, plus “Remember Théoden!” and “For The Shire!” as well as many others (Ronny’s was “The Shire Forever!”)

MG: …Wakanda called. They want their national slogan back.

became rallying cries, often heard throughout the Four Farthings and even in distant Bree. There, volunteer hobbit archers flooded the militia.

Another poster featured a drawing of Elanor in her baby-blue two-and-twentieth gown wearing an apron over her dress. Her upraised arm, flexed below her chin, displayed an impressive (fully dressed in long sleeves) bicep, captioned with the slogan: “We Can Do It!”

MG: …for Eru’s sake. Uncle Sam was bad enough… Rosie the Riveter, too!? Just… just wow, Polychron. What do you even say to this? Did you think that maybe people might recognize one of the most famous propaganda characters and posters of World War II and be a bit taken out of the story by this? Or was it supposed to be a joke? Because I’m not laughing. *beat* Well, I kind of am, though not for the reason Polychron probably wants me to.

The fierce nationalist zeal sweeping their land left no corner untouched.

Tharkos: Considering that I know from personal experience the dark places to which “fierce nationalist zeal” can take a country, this does not strike me as a cause for encouragement. Quite the opposite, in fact.

In time, every Ent boasted of carrying a well-armed and highly trained hobbit archer in their branches.

The older hobbits were taken aback by the strange goings-ons, especially seeing so many maidens firing arrows at targets or learning sword and dagger craft. Treebeard assured them, if war called, no female hobbits would leave the safety of the Shire.

Shade: *flatly* It takes but one foe to breed a war, not two, and those without swords can still die upon them. I believe someone made that observation in the original book. But oh, no, the dear little ladies are just too delicate for combat, I guess. *grins nastily* C’mere. Let me show you how delicate I am.

The Unfair Sex: 161 (apparently the elder hobbits’ only real objection to the rampant militarization of the Shire is that women might get involved!)

Every Farthing was busy building archery guilds, or bow and arrow craft shops. Others built smithies for forging swords based on Sting or the Traveler’s Barrow-blades.

Tharkos: Because clearly, the hobbits had no native blade-making traditions of their own. Peaceful people or no, I find that rather hard to credit. I believe they do have a militia of sorts, after all.

* * * * *

As happy as he was at home, Fastred couldn’t bear the thought of not returning to Elanor, nor of quitting on Eldarion and his other friends, leaving unfinished what they’d started.

Shade: Which is… what, exactly? Seriously, I’m still at a bit of a loss as to what our intrepid band were trying to accomplish, beyond “wandering around for a bit, looking for rings of power and fighting bad guys as they randomly run into them.” Did they have, like, a mission beyond that?

Belethor reminded him he must be true to the trust they’d given him. Like it or not, he was now part of the histories of kings, great deeds and wars in distant lands. He’d been appointed by Círdan as the Guardian of the Túrin-stone. He’d accepted these responsibilities many times over during their travels. Fastred now realized they were as much a burden as a privilege, just as Eldarion had warned him when they first met at the Prancing Pony.

Tharkos: Unfortunately related in a dull, remote manner that doesn’t let us feel what a burden it is… unlike the source material, which put a great deal of focus on the burden that was the One Ring, I recall…

Reluctantly, he and Belethor left the Shire. They headed back to Rivendell carrying plenty of provisions on an extra pony. But first, while on the way, they stopped in Bree.

* * * * *

During Theo’s memorial, when Arwen hugged Merry, Elanor perceived something was wrong. She saw a flicker of darkness about the Queen. It was so brief, she wasn’t sure it had happened. It seemed as if a shadow had jumped from Arwen, terrified of Merry, yet vicious.

Shade: Oh, great. So that’s how we’re going to ruin the seemingly heartwarming moment, then – it’s just more proof of Arwen being totally up to no good, got it!

The Unfair Sex: 162

As Arwen’s handmaiden, she felt disloyal suspecting the Queen. So she forced herself to push these unwelcome and worrisome thoughts aside. But she kept remembering the Queen at the last battle, raising her bloody daggers to stab her brothers in the back.

Tharkos: As little love as I have for the pair of murderous maniacs, I must say that attempting to stab one’s own brothers in the back mid-battle ought to be a far greater cause for concern than this!

Plot-Induced Stupidity: 187

The day came when she could no longer ignore her feelings. Finding Celendrian, she told her it was twice now she’d seen something, however scant, and she was worried.

They had a long talk about what was happening between her and Fastred.

Shade: *flatly* Love-lives first, potential treason second. Great priorities, girls. And I’m pretty sure it’s because they’re girls that Polychron wrote it like this, too.

The Unfair Sex: 163

Then Celendrian unburdened herself, telling Elanor everything that had happened since he put on Anqaúrë and hugged her mother.

MG: *weakly* Oh, right. Because we need to be reminded of that little bit of violation, and how even before Rivendell this wasn’t Arwen, but Undomiel of Borg.

During their long conversation, Elanor ‘saw’ that with her help, Celendrian could touch her and absorb just the two specific memories she wanted to share.

Celendrian wasn’t sure.

None of the previous Ringbearers knew about this. Yet Elanor was certain that by using the power of Oialëhén to guide her, Celendrian could harness Anqaúrë far more effectively than others had, simply by being open and honest, instead of secretly stealing memories.

Tharkos: While at least the topic has moved on to matters of actual import, it still seems less urgent than the fact that the Queen may be a traitor! But I suppose rings and their uses must take precedence.

Rings-a-Palooza: 212

“Even if we fail and you absorb all my memories,” Elanor said. “I grew up in the Shire! The privileged daughter of the Mayor. You may be disgusted to learn the truth: nothing terrible ever happened to me, until Theo died. You know, I’ve never thought about it, but as the firstborn of twelve, half my brothers and sisters shouldn’t have been born alive, or lived very long.”

Shade: You’re… ashamed… that you’ve had a peaceful and happy life with living siblings and a family that loved you? *shakes her head* Kid, do you know what some people would pay to have that life?

“I’ve never thought about it either,” Celendrian said. “But none of my siblings died. Every other family we know lost half their children, and far too many mothers during childbirth. Unlike humans, Elves have fewer children. Their mothers and babies rarely die.”

MG: …while elven mothers rarely dying in childbirth does seem to be mostly true (even Miriel died some time after giving birth to Feanor, though the exhaustion from the difficult pregnancy and birth was the primary reason for it) why exactly are we having this conversation about maternal mortality rates now? Did it just pop into Polychron’s head and he felt like he had to do something about it?

“I bet Galadriel infused the power of her Ring,” Elanor told her, getting excited at the realization, “the Ring of Adamant, into the lives of her descendants and her gift to my father!”

Shade: …no, actually, I don’t think that’s true at all.

Rings-a-Palooza: 213

For a moment, Celendrian was shocked. Elanor waited, watching her friend process the idea. “I’ve just searched Galadriel’s memories – and you’re right! That was very insightful.

Shade: It’s not at all creepy and unsettling that you can just pull up your ancestor’s memories for review like that, by the way.

Okay. Let’s see if I can absorb just the two memories you want to share.”

They held hands and concentrated, as Alatar taught her. She poured her insights and the power of Oialëhén into Celendrian, as Elladan had shown her.

Both Oialëhén and Anqaúrë flared.

Gasping, Celendrian absorbed just the two memories. For the first time since she put on her Ring, she felt something akin to real hope that she could do more than just weather the storms of foreign emotions and memories she already had, with the dread of absorbing more a constant threat, until the overwhelming burdens drove her mad. Elanor had given her the first bulwark against her own Ring-granted abilities, which were already threatening to swamp her.

MG: Still reminding everyone that Celendrian’s mother forced this thing that’s apparently already starting to drive her mad on her. Just… just so we’re clear on that. Good work, Undomiel of Borg!

Rings-a-Palooza: 214

They were overjoyed.

Yet Celendrian was horrified to discover Elanor was right: something evil was hiding in her mother. Now that she knew what to look for, Anqaúrë was able to confirm her mother’s essence was different. Celendrian could now feel a hidden and malevolent corruption.

Tharkos: *snorts* That was easy. Who needs to actually investigate such matters when a Ring of Power can simply confirm everything for you? It is not as if the original work contained the idea that relying on these objects might be dangerous or anything of that sort…

Rings-a-Palooza: 215

They went to Alatar in the middle of training Sam. “My own power tells me nothing.”

“I think I’ve heard something coming from the Queen,” Sam told them. “A faint buzz. Like a fly, coming and going by my ear, for snatches of a second. I wasn’t sure what it was.”

Shade: So… between this, and what Elanor saw, and Arwen literally attacking her brothers… did literally everyone know that something was wrong with her and just decided not to do anything about it because reasons?

Plot-Induced Stupidity: 188

“I heard you talking,” Calcarin told them, entering from another room. “I too have heard the dissonance coming from Queen Arwen. Never having met her, I did not realize it was different from how she was supposed to sound.”

Elanor noticed Calcarin had come from inside the Great House. She had never seen him outside, unless accompanied by one of the seven with whom he’d traveled from Euthyria.

They told Eldarion and his uncles about the Queen.

Tharkos: You would think the murderers, at least, would remember how she attacked them and had to be subdued…

The next day, the head Elvish librarian of Rivendell, the beautiful Lady Marcidelén, another of Arwen’s handmaidens, led the Queen to the newly reconstructed library in the still un- christened Great House. She left Arwen alone with Celendrian, Eldarion and the twins, firmly shutting the doors of the library behind her. Arwen looked around at all the books.

Shade: Wait a minute… are we back at Rivendell? After it was destroyed? Has it been rebuilt already, because damn. Also, if Marcidelen is the head Elvish librarian, does that mean there’s a head human librarian too? Dwarvish librarian? Hobbit librarian? Don’t think ents really write, so there probably doesn’t need to be one of them...

Traveling at the Speed of Plot: 70 (or building, at least)

“I want you to know,” Celendrian said. “This is the hardest thing I have ever had to do.”
“What is the hardest thing you have ever had to do?” Arwen asked.

“This is coming from you, what you yourself have told us to do,” Eldarion replied.

“We know you are wearing one of Glorfindel’s Rings,” Elladan told her.

Tharkos: …which the earlier search failed to expose, somehow?

“You think to take it from me?” Arwen sneered, backing away from them, her face inflamed with sudden virulent hatred. “You are abominations! The House of Elrond is nothing more than bright Maia spirit – and dirt!” She vanished.

Shade: Okay, that was… kind of a lot of nonsense, but I think it was supposed to be an insult? And of course, Arwen doesn’t even try to deflect or defend herself and immediately jumps to babbling nonsense…

Celendrian, Eldarion and the twins vanished.

A vase rose, streaking from the table. It hurtled itself through the window, breaking both.

This created a large hole – then the entire window shattered outward.

Nets were under the windows.

Tharkos: …because of course they knew exactly how she was going to try to escape before she did?

One bowed with the weight of an invisible body amid falling glass. The threads opened, slashed by an invisible dagger. The ground below the net fell inward even deeper. Leaves and pulled grass had concealed a deep hole, hidden under a network of twigs. A scream came from the bottom of the pit. In another net, the much thicker cords began to open one-by-one.

Four invisible hands grabbed the invisible arms sawing at the ropes. Arwen screamed.

Shade: Well. That was anticlimactic. Me, I’d have spent more time in this section on actually capturing and unmasking Arwen, and less on Elanor and Celendrian chatting about random things, but what do I know? I’m just a small-time adventurer and… independent entrepreneur, not the author of the perfect sequel to one of my world’s most famous and beloved novels or anything.

* * * * *

They tried to keep the Fall of the Queen a secret.

Tharkos: The “fall” of the Queen being oddly literal in this case…

Outside Arwen’s chambers Sam, Calcarin, Eldarion, Alatar and Incánus waited. Inside Celendrian, Elerith, Marcidelén and Elanor searched for the evil Ring of Power. Before Celendrian closed the doors of the Queen’s private chambers, Eldarion had said he wanted to be there for their mother.

“No,” she told him. “When mother recovers, she’ll be grateful I kept you from seeing her humiliation; bound and helpless, unable to prevent us from doing our will, even though it’s to remove an evil talisman. If you don’t believe me, I’ll have her tell you herself how she feels.”

Shade: Okay… “bound and helpless,” “doing our will” – just what are you doing to your mother, Celendrian (I think that’s who’s talking here?).

“That will not be necessary,” he said. “You have completely convinced me.”

Tharkos: …sounding more like an automaton than an actual person who might have an emotional investment in the outcome of this. Has Eldarion perhaps been replaced by an Autono-man with no on the wiser?

Alatar wanted to be there too, but he heard their exchange and said nothing.

Shade: *rolls her eyes* ‘Cause it’s not like having a wizard in there when you’re trying to free someone from an evil talisman might be useful or anything… Four, you people are hopeless.

Celendrian felt his intentions. “On behalf of the Queen, she thanks you for your concern. I thank you, too. If we need you, we’ll call. Just listen.”

MG: Now I’m just thinking of that scene in Young Frankenstein when Frederick goes in to try and reason with the Creature, warning everyone else to stay out no matter what they may hear… only to immediately turn around and start frantically begging to be let out as soon as the Creature slips his bonds. I wonder if Celendrian will hold up about that well? Then again, once Frederick recovered himself he actually did manage to win the Creature’s trust and love… somehow, I don’t think any of these people will be as successful.

“You know I shall,” Eldarion said, putting his hands on Sam and Calcarin’s shoulders. “And so will my friends.”

“I know,” she said, kissing his cheek. “That’s just one of the many reasons I love you.” She entered the Queen’s chambers and pulled the doors shut.

Calcarin turned to Eldarion. “It is not that you cannot hear the sounds coming from your mother. The Discords are very loud. The Ring is hiding them in the shape of other sounds: the pounding of your heart, the blood rushing through your head, the rustling of your clothes against your body, your hair slapping against your ears. The Ring is screeching so loud, it is actually screaming. It hides its scream by mimicking the sounds your mind is right this very moment dismissing. It is the cleverest thing I have ever heard. As it hides its scream, so hides the Ring.”

Tharkos: While my admittedly limited knowledge of magic mostly involves its applications in combat and not discussions of such an advanced and… theoretical nature, I don’t think this makes any sense. I was not aware the Rings of Power “scream” or create audible “discord” in such a way, nor that they would need to hide it.

Loremaster’s Headache: 526

Rings-a-Palooza: 216

“How can you distinguish them?” Eldarion asked.

“It is very difficult, picking them out from sounds we’re used to dismissing,” Calcarin answered. “Only a scholar of sound is likely to do so. Perhaps only a collocoll, who has spent his whole life listening, possessing greater hearing and relying on sound to navigate your world.”

“What’s taking so long?” Incánus asked. “It’s just a Ring! It’s probably on her toe.”

Shade: Yeah. Sure. Clearly nobody would think to look for a ring there. That was so helpful, Incanus.

Alatar looked at him, disapproving.

“My friends,” Eldarion said, putting his hands on the wizard’s backs. “It seems you two are developing a bit of a rivalry. Was it always like this?”

MG: Well, Incanus was, until recently, serving as an advisor in the court of one of Middle-earth’s major enemies, so… yeah, I think a bit of distrust and hostility may be warranted here. Also, is this really the time or the place for this?

“On the boat, everyone was on their best behavior,” Incánus answered. “I was first to depart, going ashore in Harad. The rest sailed up the coast.”

MG: Okay, just jumping in to note that I reread the chapter on the Istari in Unfinished Tales prior to starting the spork of this chapter. And, while much of what Tolkien wrote about the wizards is fragmentary and contradictory, it does seem that he imagined them as having arrived somewhat staggered, on separate ships, with Saruman arriving first (possibly with Radagast) and Gandalf last. And they all landed at the Grey Havens.

Loremaster’s Headache: 527

“We disembarked at East Mithlond, except Lemminkäinen,” Alatar told him. “She continued north. Gandalf stayed in Lindon with Gil-galad and Círdan. Four of us took the Great East Road and traveled south through the Gap of Rohan to Minas Tirith.”

“I’ve never understood how the Valar decided who went where,” Incánus remarked. “Lemminkäinen was the least suited to cold. She dreaded the coming snow. Yet all she had to look forward to was an eternal Winter and cliffs of endless ice.”

MG: Well, based on Unfinished Tales, specific Valar suggested specific members of the Istari – Aule for Saruman, Manwe and Varda for Gandalf, Yavanna for Radagast, Orome for Alatar, and either Orome again or Mandos and Nienna for Pallando. While each Vala has their own powers and domains of interest, and each of the chosen Maiar also had tasks for which their personality and powers most suited them, in general they seem to have been given a lot of leeway to pursue their own interests in Middle-earth so long as it advanced the overall goal of their order (to rally the Free Peoples against Sauron) and did not seek dominion in their own right (a rule Saruman broke). So there’s no real reason for Lemminkainen to have been forced to go to Forodwaith if she didn’t want to, and it feels very out of character for the Valar to force her to (especially considering the mission of the Istari was meant to be a sort of happy medium correcting the flaws of the Valar’s earlier approaches to their charges – ie, trying to bring all the elves to live with them in Aman, and then when that didn’t end well, largely ignoring early Men and leaving them to their own devices).

Loremaster’s Headache: 530

“I believe I know how the assignments were made,” Eldarion told them. The wizards were surprised.

Shade: …because they were actually there, and he wasn’t, and thus there was no reason for him to know more or to be standing there explaining their own backstories to them?

Alatar asked, “How?”

“The worst method – by committee,” he answered. “The Valar are not omniscient. It seems their foresight and wisdom failed when they gave you your assignments.”

MG: I mean… yeah, the Valar aren’t omniscient, and Tolkien was always pretty clear that while he saw them as fundamentally good, that doesn’t mean they were incapable of error. Except, in this case, it still seems to represent a misunderstanding of how the Istari and their mission were handled. And it’s still bizarre that Eldarion of all people is explaining this to the wizards, who were there.

“I was surprised Saruman failed,” Incánus said. “In Aman, he was chosen first. We thought there wouldn’t be anything left for us to do after him. We were wrong.”

MG: Technically, Saruman and Alatar were chosen first. Manwe and Varda wanted Olorin, the later Gandalf, to go, but he took some persuading. Alatar then wanted his friend Pallando to go with him, and Curumo (Saruman) begrudgingly took Radagast along at Yavanna’s urging. Now, we don’t know what order Incanus and Lemminkainen were added to the mission (since they’re Polychron’s characters, not Tolkien’s) but it’s still kind of weird to be talking about Saruman being the first this way when Alatar, who was chosen at the same time as Saruman, is standing right there.

Loremaster’s Headache: 532

“There was Saruman, Radagast, Gandalf, yourself and Pallando who stepped off the boat in Lindon,” Eldarion mused. “It explains the belief there were only five Istari.”

“I’ve heard Saruman, not the most modest of our Order, dismissed us as irrelevant,” Incánus said. “I never traveled North. He and Gandalf said they traveled South, though I never knew anyone who met them in Harad. If he heard of my doings, it must have been rare. No more than rumors, faint and indistinct, which couldn’t be trusted, passing through so many hands. Maybe he heard more tales of me than Lemminkäinen, but not enough to stay in his mind. Not like the Blue Wizards, who went to Minas Tirith and spoke at length with King Ciryandil.”

MG: And here we get what strikes me very much as Polychron covering for himself and trying to explain why he added two whole extra Istari (how one of Gandalf’s names got turned into a whole new character isn’t really addressed). Honestly… it feels like a very obvious patch, and IMO not a very convincing one.

“Pallando and I advised Ciryandil against trying to break the siege of Umbar without first reorganizing his armies,” Alatar told them. “I’ve wondered what Saruman said to convince him to disregard our councils.”

MG: And I’m wondering why the wizards thought intervening in a squabble between nations where Sauron and his minions don’t appear to have been directly involved on either side was the best way to start their mission (this encounter doesn’t seem to have occurred in Tolkien, though Ciryandil would have been king of Gondor at around the time the wizards arrived).

“You think Saruman counseled him to disregard you?” Incánus asked.

“Before the last War of the Ring, I wouldn’t have been so sure,” he answered. “But too much has happened to think otherwise.

MG: First off, there is no “last” War of the Ring – it was just the War of the Ring. For another, LotR is pretty clear that while Saruman was always rather arrogant and self-righteous, he was not originally evil and was sincerely committed to the Istari’s mission for centuries – he only gradually fell to evil over the course of centuries and grew to desire dominion in his own right, and it took longer after that before he fell fully into Sauron’s orbit.

Minas Tirith was Minas Anor back then. It was Ciryandil’s summer residence. We called the Men who lived there, Men of Stone. Gondorians, living in a palace of stone. Your mother’s plantings have grown fragrant gardens full of colorful flowers in the Rammas Echor. There weren’t even walls around the empty fields back then. Men told us tales of unnamed evil things beyond the Ephel Dúath that were terrifying. Yet we couldn’t shirk our duties. After we met the Men and Beasts of the East, we laughed at how frightened we had been leaving Minas Anor. Though at the time, it was no laughing matter. We had been told the mountains and plains were infested with dragons!”

MG: *flatly* Thank you for that infodump about the history of his own country that I’m sure Eldarion probably already knows, Alatar… though maybe you’re just returning the favor for him lecturing you on your own history earlier? And “Beyond the Ephel Duath” would be… Mordor, which Gondor was already guarding (albeit more to prevent Sauron’s return than to keep anyone already there inside, AFAIK). If you’re looking for “the exotic East,” I think you want “beyond the Sea of Rhun” instead.

“Dragons… in the Ephel Dúath?” Incánus asked.

“I just remembered,” Alatar said, snapping his fingers. “In Ciryandil’s war room there was a huge map on the wall. Beyond the mountains there were drawings of dragons! Written above them in Adûnaic was the phase, ‘HC SVNT DRACONES.’”

MG: *flatly* That’s not Adunaic. That’s Latin. The two are nothing alike (save for being the language of their respective worlds’ fallen great empire, though even then it’s the elvish languages that mostly fill the cultural role in Middle-earth that Latin did in the European middle ages); in point of fact, IRL Latin is an Indo-European language, while Adunaic is supposed to be based more on Semitic languages! Unless Polychron is just meant to be translating the inscription into a real-world language that gives the proper feel for how it relates to Westron, the “common tongue” of the present which is almost always rendered as modern English (as Tolkien does with representing Rohirric as Old English, and Dalish as Old Norse)… except that just further confuses the issue, since Adunaic is always just represented as itself.

Linguistic Confusions: 60

“‘Here there be dragons,’” Eldarion translated.

“But there weren’t any,” Alatar told them. “They were all up north in the Ered Mithrin. At the time, we didn’t know. There was no way to know, until we actually went. I don’t think they did it on purpose.”

MG: …yeah. “Here be dragons” is pretty standard IRL shorthand (along with “here be lions” and other variations) to put at the edge of maps to say “we don’t know what’s here, but it’s probably dangerous.” It’s not usually meant to be literal.

“That sounds terrifying!” Sam said.

Shade: Huh. Sam, who I’m pretty sure knew absolutely nothing about the world outside the Shire except for the stories he’d learned about elves from Bilbo, but went on the quest anyway out of love and loyalty, seems like a weird choice to have saying that.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Alatar told him. “But it wasn’t easy. There were Beasts and more than a few monsters. The worst were Ulbandi’s Nameless Things. I’ve killed too many to count.

Tharkos: *snorts* Needlessly, since it seems to me that they kill each other quite readily with no need for intervention!

Them and the infestations of orcs. Now we have the Orcelven.”

“It sounds like a lot,” Calcarin said.

“It has been a lot,” Alatar agreed. “There’s doubtless more to come.”

Shade: *Alatar* Unless our author decides to file a ridiculous lawsuit and gets smacked down so thoroughly it destroys his career and reputation forever. That would suck.

A scream came through the door.

* * * * *

Celendrian exited the chamber. She carried a gleaming golden Ring. It was set with a polished black Cat’s Eye Scapolite stone; Harma, the Ring of Possession. She gave it to Alatar.

MG: And so, the Exorcism of Arwen Undomiel… happened entirely off-page. *applauds sarcastically* Well-done, Polychron! We might have had an actually tense, dramatic, emotionally powerful moment here, but you successfully managed to sidestep it entirely. Good for you. /s

Rings-a-Palooza: 217

At her son’s insistence, Arwen allowed Eldarion to see her in bed. Elerith and Elanor hovered around the edge of the room, folding new-washed linen, arranging the many gorgeous bouquets of fresh flowers that had arrived for the Queen and keeping busy.Eldarion took her hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Well enough,” Arwen said, limply holding his hand. She stared out the window. “I am now one of the Fallen. How enchanting. What has… your father, said?”

Shade: *flatly* Oh, yay. A woman had something forced on her (I guess that was what Glorfindel was doing when he visited her in her prison and made her scream a few chapters ago, forcing her to wear this Ring?) in a way that violates her spirit, that she didn’t want or ask for, and now has seemingly been permanently tainted by it (I mean, Polychron has written Arwen as an awful person otherwise, but this particular thing was absolutely not her fault). Oh, no, no awful implications there.

The Unfair Sex: 164 (apparently Arwen being literally possessed by an evil ring against her will counts as “falling”)

“He told us to remind you how very much he loves you,” Elerith answered.

Tharkos: When did he do this, exactly? We certainly didn’t see it.

“He wants to see you,” Elanor told her. “He hopes you’ll honor the wishes of your husband.

Shade: …kind of a creepy way to put it, considering Polychron’s, you know, issues.

He begs you to return to Minas Tirith, when you’re ready.”

“Of course,” Arwen agreed. She looked out the window. “Who else knows?”

“We haven’t told anyone,” Elerith answered.

“We will see,” Arwen mused.

Tharkos: If Queen Arwen would instead prefer to find a way out of this story and back to her own timeline with her actual husband, she would have my full sympathy.

“Many saw the window of the library in the Great House shatter,” Eldarion said. “The Ring removed your invisibility, I now believe, on purpose. They saw us pull you from the pit.”

Shade: And is anybody going to ask why the Queen was in a pit, and if it might have something to do with the invisible person who just fell out a window? Four, these people are stupid.

Plot-Induced Stupidity: 189

* * * * *

“That’s a new shirt,” Elanor told Fastred. A drawing of a red dragon was set over his heart and on his sleeves, adorned above and below with runes. “What are those symbols?”

“They’re my Coat of Arms,” he answered.

“What’s a Coat of Arms?” she asked.

Tharkos: …why does the handmaiden of a Queen, even a mostly honorary one, not know what a Coat of Arms is?

Plot-Induced Stupidity: 190

The Unfair Sex: 165 (I think Elanor’s inexplicable ignorance merits a point)

“You know the way Celendrian and her Brigade wore the King’s emblems, the White Tree and Seven Stars. Xiang and Pingyang wear a blue dragon on a field of yellow with a red pearl. And Ælfwine wears a white outline of a red arrow in flight on a field of red?” he asked.

“Yes,” she laughed. “And a red pedicure on his horse! Celendrian wasn’t kidding.”

Shade: *muttering* What sort of vain fool gives their warhorse a pedicure, anyway? And who cares enough to pay attention to it?

“This is my version of those,” he told her, handing her a hand drawn copy. “Or a chief dragon rampant gules.”



MG: Not really sure when and how this sort of real-world heraldic description ended up in Middle-earth (which has its own systems of heraldry and ways of talking about them) though I’ll go ahead and give it a pass by assuming some degree of translation convention.

“What do those runes mean?” she asked.

“The top ones say, ‘By Skill And Valor,’” he answered. “The bottom ones mean, ‘Ascendant, Transcendent, Eternal.’”

Tharkos: *snorts* The lad’s not humble, is he? Also, when and where is this conversation taking place?

“Oh, that’s interesting,” she said. “Was this Belethor’s idea?”

“It was,” Fastred answered. “One of his better ideas.”

Shade: Oh, so it’s the dragon who’s not very humble! *beat* Who’s bright idea was it to let the literal baby design heraldry, anyway?

Elanor showed the drawing to Celendrian. “I think Belethor’s starting to go to his head.”

“Ló Curu Ar Cánë,” she read. “Ambarónë, Langë, Oialë. He’s using Quenya!”

“Fastred doesn’t know Quenya,” she told her. “Are you sure?”

Shade: …well, that’s not ominous or anything. First Arwen’s creepy ring, now this – what is it with these people and weird meddling with each other’s minds?

MG: It really just strikes me as more dragon rider tropes that really, really don’t belong in Middle-earth.

“I love all the detail and the sense of strength in the dragon. Can I borrow this?” she asked, looking around. “Where’s Fastred?”

While Fastred was designing a Coat of Arms for Celendrian, Elerith asked for one too. Soon there was a long line of princes, kings, queens, and a great many other officials wanting a Coat of Arms.

Tharkos: They should have their own! Fastred and Elanor were just talking about them. Why – why, of all people – do they think that a halfling who is not, by my reckoning, yet even a man by the standards of his own people is the best person in the world to design heraldry for literally all of them. Does he even have any artistic ability of his own, or is he going to let the dragon do all of it?

Celendrian and Elerith insisted on paying him and they advised him to charge for every design.

Tharkos: …which I’m sure the baby dragon was happy about. They have to start hoarding sometime, I suppose.

Eldarion asked him to record them in a book for the King. Fastred was forced to hire an assistant to handle appointments and a banker to keep track of his money.

Shade: Well. That escalated quickly.

One of the first hobbits to ask for one was Mayor Mugwort. He was very critical, requesting numerous changes. Fastred got so frustrated, he asked for Belethor’s help. When they finished, Mugwort said he didn’t like it and wasn’t going to use it. He refused to pay them.

MG: …I mean, the obvious idea here is to portray Mugwort as an unsympathetic jerkass, but, uh, it’s supposed to be his coat of arms. Shouldn’t he get final approval for the design that’s supposed to, you know, represent him in official contexts and all? Not to mention, he’s an elected official, not a noble. Does he really merit a personal coat of arms, or one to represent the office as a whole? And, uh, does this mean we’re in Bree now?

One day a militiaman from Bree rode in with messages for Eldarion. Emblazoned on his shield and shoulders was the Coat of Arms Fastred and Belethor had worked so hard designing.

That night, the Mayor’s office mysteriously burned to the ground. The fire could easily have gotten out of hand and consumed much of Bree.

Shade: …did Fastred just burn down a guy’s office for being rude and stingy? In a fire that sounds like could have easily been much worse than it was? I’m no saint, but by the Four, that’s an overreaction. You’re lucky no one was killed!

The militia had been doing one of their extremely rare (never before recorded) fully staffed night training operations when the fire broke out. The Mayor’s office was consumed, but they managed to contain the flames and no other buildings were affected.

Tharkos: …why did the militia have an unprecedented training event on the same night of the fire? Did Fastred arrange that somehow? By the Eagle, the boy is more dangerous than I had realized…

Elessar proclaimed that Fastred, son of Folcred of Greenholm in the Shire, was now the official Master of Emblems for the Kingdoms.

Shade: …for the Four’s sake. *facepalm*

He was the only person who could design and record the insignias for officers, princes, kings or queens, High or low.

Tharkos: Remind me again, does the boy have any artistic qualifications for this job, or any real understanding of history or culture that would no doubt be essential for such work? Or is everyone just afraid he’ll burn down their residence next if they don’t humor him?

Fastred designed a Coat of Arms for Elessar’s heralds, so people would know they were the officially sanctioned Heralds of the King and their messages could be trusted.

MG: …Aragorn already has an official emblem. The White Tree for Gondor, done in silver on a black background, surmounted by seven stars and a crown for the House of Elendil. It’s not as if this symbol is displayed prominently at a crucial moment of the story to announce Aragorn’s arrival and that the tide of the Battle of the Pelennor fields has turned or anything… come on.

Take That, Tolkien!: 58 (because apparently the heraldry of Aragorn’s house, ancestry and kingdom isn’t good enough for him anymore)

Elessar added ‘Master of Heralds’ to Fastred’s growing number of titles and offices.

Shade: *facepalms* The kid’s just taking over the whole kingdom one office at a time, isn’t he? And again, what qualifications does he have for this one?

* * * * *

One morning Eldarion summoned Manus to a secret meeting attended by his family.

Shade: Oooh, chapter title! *beat* Sort of.

Fastred and Belethor were there, as were the princes and princesses of Ithilien and Rohan. They included Malvia, as the representative of her mother, Queen Akamai of Greater Harad.

Having recused himself from the proceedings, but unable to prevent the inquiry, Eldarion sat on one side observing. Uncharacteristically, he appeared upset.

Tharkos: Please. We remember how the princeling reacted to discovering that his hero Samwise used to be a servant. We know he’s quite easily upset.

“This is a formal inquiry into charges that by selling magical armaments to Glorfindel,” Celendrian read, “you acted as an enemy to our Allies and a traitor to the United Kingdoms.”

“Greater Harad had no formal treaty with the North Kingdoms then, and Manus Tarqus and the Haradrim were not allied with any kingdoms in the north, so the first charge is false,” Malvia interjected. “The exchange happened in Rivendell, a country separate from the United Kingdoms, ruled by the Crown Prince Eldarion’s brothers, the Elven Princes Elladan and Elrohir. When Greater Harad finally did ally with Arnor and Gondor, Manus fought beside Eldarion against Estel and the Orcelven, both of whom are enemies to Greater Harad and the North Kingdoms. Because of these circumstances and by his own heroic actions, Manus could not possibly have been a traitor. Queen Akamai of Greater Harad requests that all charges against her faithful servant, Manus Tarqus, son of Oduduwa, be dropped.”

Tharkos: …all of which is quibbling over technicalities to avoid the larger issue. Manus was selling weapons to Glorfindel and most likely had to have acquired them by dealing with Swahilloguz or his agents, considering the weapons in question. All of which suggests that he is a war profiteer who has dealt with two would-be tyrants and two of the greatest threats to peace in Middle-earth at this time, and therefore cannot be trusted to not betray his “allies” when it suits him, or to place the greater good of the peoples of Middle-earth above his own profits. I also submit his repeatedly expressed desire for a Ring of Power.

“Unfortunately, there is more than one aspect to this inquiry,” Celendrian told her.

“What do you mean?” Malvia asked.

“Before Swahillogûz left Rivendell, he met with Ulbandi before her throne,” Eldarion answered.

Shade: Would’ve been nice for us to have seen that last chapter when all the bad guys were having their little individual get-togethers. Also, you know about this how?

“She instructed Swahillogûz to take Manus’ weapons to the Balrog Lord Lungorthin so that he may use those weapons to attack Gondor and fortify our enemies. Lungorthin has conquered Khazad-dûm and Ulbandi requested he join her ‘Pact of Middle-earth Powers.’”

MG: Eh, “Pact of Middle-Earth Powers” (PMEP? POMEP?) is about the most generic thing to call your major alliance. I’m going to keep calling them the Legion of Doom. It fits what they actually are better, anyway.

“Then as your Ally,” Malvia told him. “Greater Harad will send our warriors and Oliphaunts to Khazad-dûm. We will recover the weapons forged in Harad. We will also destroy Swahillogûz and his allies, including Lungorthin, in order to vindicate Manus.”

Tharkos: Unless he decides to sell you out in the process, of course. And I cannot help but notice how casually you speak of destroying not only a balrog (a feat accomplished only a handful of times in this world’s history, all by the greatest of heroes) but also the agent and proxy of what is, supposedly, the greatest evil force known to exist. Somehow, I suspect this will all be easier said than done.

MG: Though this is one of many bits late in the fic that make me suspect the second installment, had it ever gotten made, would have focused on retaking Moria from Lungorthin.

Celendrian and the others excused themselves to confer. Everyone else broke for lunch.

Shade: …yeah. You all are really taking this seriously. *facepalms*

When they returned from the Chamber of the Palantír, Celendrian addressed Malvia graciously. “We thank you for your cooperation and participation in these proceedings. On behalf of the King and our Allies, we accept your generous proposal.”

“On behalf of Queen Akamai, we thank you for the wisdom and mercy of your decision,” Malvia told them. “We also request your assistance to find a way to free the Star of Merkaba from its imprisonment in the wizard Alatar’s staff, after finding a new enclosure in which it can be safely housed, so it can be transported back to Harad.”

MG: And with that, the entire “Manus was selling deadly magical weapons to the bad guys” subplot gets entirely swept under the rug and forgotten! Whew! Wasn’t it so important we had to deal with that?

Anyway, this chapter is very, very long, so we’ll be cutting off here for today! And, frankly, it doesn’t really hold together that well. “Secret Meetings” is a pretty decent title for it (though not all the meetings in it are very secret) because that’s mostly what it is… a string of characters getting together and talking about things, tying up various loose ends, Arwen getting exorcised (off-page), Manus getting vindicated (supposedly), everyone commissions statues from Drendalen (of iconic scenes only!), Fastred starting a business, inventing something that already exists, and getting a whole string of titles (inexplicably) and maybe burning down a guy’s office, and oh, I guess Rivendell got re-founded somewhere in there after being destroyed last time! It also, frankly, kills the pacing and tension dead, if they weren’t already. I’m not sure how much time passes in this chapter, because of how we just end up skipping casually through major events. Our characters just sort of wander around Middle-earth randomly with no sense of urgency; we’re told the bad guys are still out there, but they’re not doing anything, nor is there any real sense of them offering an immediate threat. All in all, it just feels like the story is mostly over and is winding down, even though by all rights it’s really just started – and while I feel like the narrative has already hit two climaxes (the battle at Weathertop and the fall of “Glorfindell”) we still actually have a third climax to go, in the last chapter! So it just feels very messy and poorly handled all around. Though at least it doesn’t contain the same sort of gross and terrible stuff as last time, and Arwen wasn’t actually evil of her own free will? That counts for something, right?

Next time, we’ll be finishing up this chapter, as our heroes attempt some necromancy (yes, really), we have a dinner party at Minas Tirith, and Faramir gets randomly derailed as a bunch of characters reenact parts of The Silmarillion for no readily apparent reason (and I don’t mean “they’re putting on a play”). We’ll see you then! Our counts stand at:

Bigger, Louder, More!: 107

Expansion-Pack World: 73

Feel My Edge: 137

Happy Ending Override: 33

Linguistic Confusions: 60

Loremaster’s Headache: 532

Pervy Hobbit Fanciers: 88

Plot-Induced Stupidity: 190

Rings-a-Palooza: 217

Take That, Tolkien!: 58

Traveling at the Speed of Plot: 70

The Unfair Sex: 165