masterghandalf (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
masterghandalf) wrote2024-10-07 08:17 am
masterghandalf) wrote2024-10-07 08:17 am
Fellowship of the King Chapter One: The Night Before a Party
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, er, masterpiece, The Fellowship of the King! Last time, we met Elanor and got some infodumping, some of it accurate, and some of it containing… dubious assertions. Today, we begin the story proper, as a visitor arrives at Bag End with important business to attend to! First off, it’s time to meet our final two sporkers for this fic, who’ll be joining us today! Like their companions from last time, they’ve been given basic information on Middle-earth to make their jobs easier.
*two figures materialize in the sporking chamber. The first is a half-elf woman in practical but stylish clothing, lounging roguishly in her chair. The other is a young human man in blue robes, with a shaved head and an earnest expression*
Half-Elf: Well. Hello, all. Shade, at your service. *she grins irreverently* Or not, as it were. We’ll see how things go… I’ve been called a thief, a scoundrel, and an all-around troublemaker; prefer to think of myself as a lady of fortune. Not really from anywhere to speak of, but I’ve been a lot of places; joined the underground in Gate Pass on a lark, tweaking the Ragesians’ noses seemed fun, then the damned emperor had to go get himself killed and the world fell apart. What’re the odds? But that’s old news. I’m mostly here because this story sounded stupid and snarking about it sounded fun. Wouldn’t mind some of that popcorn I’ve heard about, either…
Robed Man: *smiling* And I am Sonam – Brother Sonam, that is, Adept of the West Wind, serving under Master Longinus at the Monastery of Two Winds. My Master and his brother, Master Pilus, sent me out into the world among others in the aftermath of the Emperor’s death to learn what we could and to minister to those in need – for we are, above all dedicated to peace among all peoples. *he sighs sadly* Not that I’ve seen much of that lately… in any event, this was not what I was expecting to be doing, but we cannot control what fate sends out way, and I can only hope this will be an enlightening experience!
Shade: *munching on popcorn from a bowl she acquired from… somewhere* Oh, you poor, naïve boy…
MG: Anyway, with the pleasantries out of the way, let’s get started! First off, like LotR itself, FotK is divided internally into Books, in this case two Books of twelve chapters each. We’re presently about to start Book One; neither book is titled.
Chapter One: The Night Before A Party
Shade: …this sounds riveting. *rolls her eyes*
MG: Well, it’s clearly in the tradition of the opening chapters of The Hobbit and LotR – “An Unexpected Party” and “A Long-Expected Party,” respectively. On the other hand, between this title (and a few others that also feel like callbacks to LotR chapter titles) and the two-Book-per-volume structure, it really does feel like Polychron is working a little too hard to sell this as the totally legitimate follow-up to LotR and considering what actually happened IRL… whoops.
Late afternoon sunshine flooded the meadows of the Hill with a pleasant glow. Bright blossoming snap-dragons, sunflowers and nasturtiums filled the open fields and covered the green turf walls of Bag End. A stone-lined path led to a large round door at the main entrance.
Sonam: Well, that’s actually rather pleasant, so far! I do like the flowers… our monastery’s up in the mountains, so we don’t have as many of them as I’d like.
In a small sitting room adorned with a large open window sat Rosie Gamgee Gardner, as the hobbits of the Four Farthings called her,
Shade: In Umbar she was more often known as Bloody Rosie, Scourge of Belfalas, but that wasn’t a part of her life she liked to talk about…
on account of all the planting her husband, the Honorable Mayor of the Shire (HMS) Samwise Gamgee Gardner had done.
Sonam: Did we really need the initials after the title? Did Polychron just think we wouldn’t figure it out if he didn’t spell it out for us? …oh dear, if that’s what he thinks of his readers’ intelligence, that doesn’t bode well for the rest of this story…
Sipping tea beside her was her oldest daughter Elanor ‘the Fair,’ as folks called her, on account of her uncommon good looks.
MG: Actually, while Elanor was supposed to be very pretty, “the Fair” refers to her hair-color, not her attractiveness! Blonde hair is unusual for hobbits!
Loremaster’s Headache: 12
Despite these handicaps,
Shade: Please tell me this is just a joke and we’re going to do the whole ‘woe is me, I’m so beautiful it’s a curse!’ routine. *beat* Although, if the poor girl already has gross older men drooling all over her… Elanor, if you need them, my blades are yours. Since it’s your birthday, I’ll even give you a discount!
Sonam: *shocked* I don’t think such a nice young hobbit-lass wants to put a hit on someone for her birthday, Shade!
Shade: *shrugs* Well, if she does… I’m here.
Elanor was a kind, if outspoken hobbit given to laughter, pleasant whimsy and occasional disagreements with her siblings.
Shade: Ugh; please tell me this isn’t going to get any more saccharine soon… my tolerance for that isn’t high.
Helping her parents raise their ever-growing family, she loved to cook with her mother, creating new recipes and serving them up.
MG: I’d think she’d be more likely to cook with her father, considering we’re explicitly told in canon that while all hobbits learn to cook from an early age, Sam is a very good cook even by hobbit standards and is shown to enjoy it, and it seems like something he’d want to share with his daughter. I mean, Rosie very well might too, but in context it’s just kind of weird to ignore Sam like that regarding a skill he’s canonically known for…
While the others cleaned and tidied, she and her father would retire to his den. There, the two of them alone poured over the pages of ‘The Red Book Of The Westmarch’ which he’d been working on laboriously since just after she was born.
Sam had made sure that Elanor and the rest of his children received a far superior
education than he ever had. As a farmer and a gardener, he had been lucky his father’s employer Bilbo Baggins had taught him to read and form his letters.
MG: I mean, the impression I always got was that Sam got a much better education than is typical for a Shire hobbit, courtesy of Bilbo – for one, I don’t think most hobbits can casually pull (translated) Elven poetry appropriate to the occasion from memory on short notice; Sam can. And even being literate is noted to be unusual for hobbits (though those who are write to one another constantly, hence why the Shire has an official postal service). And as much as I love Sam, I don’t think he was ever as learned as Bilbo himself, so I’m not sure how he’s guaranteeing his kids get a better education than he himself got, unless he’s hiring tutors out of Gondor or somewhere.
The task of recording the historic events he’d witnessed and making corrections to the writings of much more learned hobbits, like Bilbo and Frodo Baggins, Bilbo’s adopted heir to whom he’d left Bag End, proved less than an honor and more of a monumental chore.
Sonam: …where I come from, copying the writings of our learned sages is considered a great honor. And I would think Sam, who knew Frodo and Bilbo and greatly respected both, would feel the same! *beat* And just what has he been doing with this text for years? I’d thought Frodo left it in a mostly complete state, with Sam’s chief contribution being the ending…
When still quite young, Elanor began supplying small and careful suggestions, which Sam eagerly incorporated into the manuscripts.
Shade: …because when writing a very serious historical text, regarding events of which you personally were a part, clearly including your toddler’s suggestions is the most important thing! Isn’t that how all great literature is written?
Although he swore Elanor to secrecy, as not to upset the others.
Sonam: …I do think it might be a bit of a problem, if people knew that a small child was contributing to this vitally important text…
Their father-daughter time was a special bond only they shared. She was especially proud of this and more than happy to keep their secret.
“Are you paying attention?” Rosie asked.
Elanor realized her mind had wandered. “I’m sorry, mum. What did you say?”
Shade: Actually, Rosie was just as glad her daughter hadn’t been paying attention, as she’d accidentally let slip a reference to her time in Umbar and really didn’t want to have to explain that today…
“Tomorrow your father is staying home from Michael Delving,” Rosie answered.
MG: Okay, maybe it’s just the wording, but that makes it sound like most days, Sam does travel from Bag End to Michel Delving. And, okay, Michel Delving is the closest thing the Shire has to a capital, and where the Mayor is elected and presumably works, but… it’s about sixty miles from there to Hobbiton. That’s a wee bit long for a daily two-way commute with pre-modern travel technology (ie, for the Shire, probably a cart pulled by ponies), don’t you think? Maybe that’s not what Polychron mean to imply, but if he did, I don’t think he thought the logistics of it out…
Loremaster’s Headache: 14 (one point for the distance between Hobbiton and Michel Delving, one point because it is indeed Michel Delving, not Michael)
Traveling at the Speed of Plot: 3 (for Samwise the Fastest Commuter Ever)
“Tonight we expect guests before sundown.”
Excitement fluttered Elanor’s stomach. “When will the Tooks and Brandybucks arrive?”
Sonam: All of them? By my reckoning, that would be several hundred guests at least! By the West Wind, no wonder Sam bought the whole Hill – he’d have nowhere else to fit them all otherwise!
Her father walked out onto the Sun drenched sitting room and kissed her cheek. “They won’t be here until tomorrow morning. I’m giving them and their guests the lower tunnels.”
Sonam: As I suspected!
“What about the Greenholms?” she asked.
“They’re already at your uncle Tom’s farm,” Sam answered. “I expect them, the Cottons
and that scamp Fastred will be joining us for dinner.”
“Miss a free meal?” Fastred asked. He was hurrying up the Hill beside his best friend
Théoden Brandybuck, who everyone called Theo.
The two of them looked at each other and chimed in together, “Not if we can help it!”
Shade: Boys, boys. I respect your commitment to getting free food, but can you please try to sound less rehearsed? People will start to catch on.
Theo took after his father Merry with curly brown hair, and he was larger and stronger than most other hobbits, except for his younger brother Boromir, who everyone called Ronny, and Pippin’s son Faramir, who everyone called Remy. Fastred and Theo had been born the same year and were of an age with Elanor.
Sonam: Did we really need to get everyone’s nicknames, one after the other, in the exact same fashion? I think Polychron really is holding our hands… I do suppose everyone being the same age is convenient, though?
MG: Also, “Remy” just makes me think of Gambit as a hobbit; bizarre. Also, how exactly do you get “Ronny and Remy” out of “Boromir and Faramir?” Then again, “Pippin” isn’t obviously short for “Peregrin,” either…
“Young Masters Brandybuck and Greenholm!” Rosie exclaimed, rising from the table.
Shade: …care to explain why you sound like you barely know two of your daughter’s closest friends and her maybe-boyfriend there, Rosie? I’m waiting.
She delighted seeing any of the Tooks, Brandybucks or Greenholms, but she had a special fondness for Fastred. He was Rosie’s favorite hobbit to whom she wasn’t already related.
Sonam: *taken aback* Is she keeping score? How… odd...
‘Cu-clump, cu-clump, cu-clump’ came deep, ominous sounds of approaching hooves.
Shade: No, be reasonable! Clearly, whoever it is just has two empty halves of coconuts and are banging them together! Works every time!
Sam knew those sounds. They weren’t made by ponies. Those came from larger horses
usually only ridden by Men. Once long ago, they had heralded the approach of Black Riders.
Shade: Finally. The sudden arrival of undead wraiths should break the monotony of this obnoxiously domestic scene nicely.
Sonam: …I was going to say that it barely feels like we’ve established our scene before the action begins, which makes it hard to feel invested, but clearly some of us disagree…
“Did you invite some of the Big Folk… from Bree?” Rosie asked.
“It wouldn’t surprise me if some of our friends heard about the party and came,” Sam answered, shaking his head. He tried to figure who he might know who would dare break the King’s Law, coming to the Shire uninvited.
Shade: As it happens, poor Barliman Butterbur never meant to break the law, but he’d invented a new beer he simply had to share with his friends in the Shire, and one thing led to another…
“It must be a surprise from the Thain or Master!”
Sonam: You mean your friends Pippin and Merry, don’t you, Sam? Who, last I checked, were hobbits and not Men – oh, dear, they’ve been at the Ent-draughts again, haven’t they?
A magnificent large gray horse rounded the bottom of the Hill. On its back rode the most unusually dressed Man that Elanor had ever seen: he wore billowing robes of a brilliant deep sea blue.
Sonam: *glances down at his own blue robes, feeling hurt*
Though worn and weathered, they glinted here and there, run through with strands of silver. The bunching fabric and gray-white gleams gave the impression of breaking waves, capped with foam. Above his beard and shaggy mane of silver-streaked black hair was a similarly colored wide-brimmed hat. Rising high above his head, it covered his helm. Open at the front, his robes revealed a blue and silver leaf-mail shirt with studs, and below his belt were matching leg covers.
His leathers and regalia were stained in the same dark blue and silver colors. Sheathed in his saddle was a long, blue and silver-handled sword. Strapped above them, closest to the hand of the rider, lay a long and strangely gnarled wooden staff.
Shade: *bored* Let me guess. It’s hard, but from that description, I think that this person might just be… a wizard! *mocking gasp* What do I win?
MG: And I also can’t help but note that Gandalf mostly looked like a rather ragged vagabond when he traveled, without much hint of his true stature. Alatar here is fancy. Somehow, I doubt that was a coincidence…
Take That, Tolkien!: 1
Fastred and Theo shouted in surprise. They started down the path to where they had been let through by the young hobbit standing guard named Sandro.
Shade: Oh, yes, run towards the direction the mysterious stranger is coming from, that will work wonders!
“Come into the house!” Sam shouted.
Responding immediately, they doubled back and climbed through the open window.
Standing behind him, they shielded Rosie and Elanor.
MG: Okay, is it just me, or is the image of Fastred and Theo literally piling in through the windows to escape a wizard who hasn’t said or done anything remotely threatening yet just a little over-the-top? For that matter, why is Sam automatically assuming the clear and obvious wizard is a threat? Sure, Saruman was, but Gandalf was always a friend to the hobbits, and Sam knew Gandalf well; one would think he wouldn’t immediately assume a wizard was an enemy. Finally… the Shire is not unprotected, especially now. Though self-governing, it’s still technically part of the Reunited Kingdom, and under the King’s protection. It also has both Bounders to watch the borders and Shiriffs to patrol the Shire itself, both of which work for… the Mayor. Which is to say, Sam himself. Hobbiton is in the middle of the Shire, and Alatar kind of sticks out. And yet Sam has somehow had absolutely no word that he’s here? Was Alatar riding through so fast he literally outpaced even the rumor of himself? It feels a little off, is all I’m saying.
Plot-Induced Stupidity: 1 (why is everyone randomly panicking at the sight of the wizard?)
Traveling at the Speed of Plot: 4
The rider reined his horse. He bent down and spoke to the unarmed and rather frightened young hobbit. After a brief exchange, the rider produced a folded document. Sandro read the cover and touched the seal. Turning to Sam, he waved the letter frantically over his head.
Sonam: *Sandro* Mister Mayor, he wants to know if we’ve heard the good word of Orome the Hunter, and I think he’s got a full presentation prepared! How do I tell him we’re not interested before he gets started… oh, too late!
To Sam’s eyes, the rider didn’t have the villainess look of any of the nefarious people he’d encountered, or the Black Riders that had once invaded their lands.
Shade: Well, of course he doesn’t look villainess, he’s a man! I think the word you’re looking for is “villainous.”
The horseman’s patient stance, and Sandro’s desperate waving, assured him this might be a messenger from Rohan or Gondor. The staff had made him curious.
Sonam: *kindly* Master Sandro, I know you’re new at this, but I would strongly recommend you read that book your employer is working on. It might explain some things.
With a look back to ensure Rosie and Elanor were safe, he motioned for Sandro to let the rider through.
The horsemen rode at a brisk walking pace and stopped before he got too close. Slowly dismounting, he unstrapped his staff and used it as a walking stick.
Shade: As opposed to what, mounting on it and flying away on it?
In his other hand, he carried the sealed document. When he reached a respectful distance, he stopped.
“Greetings, most Honorable Mayor of the Shire, Samwise Gamgee Gardner,” the stranger said. He held up the folded parchment.
MG: …somehow, I don’t think addressing Sam by his full, rather pompous title is going to put him more at ease, here.
“I come from the High King Elessar in Minas Tirith on an urgent mission. This is my letter of safe passage, and request of aid, from the King.”
Theo stepped up even with Sam and caught his eye, to say he’d fetch the letter, if Sam
wanted to have a look.
Sonam: Is… is there any particular reason Sam can’t see the letter himself? Is Theo worried it might be trapped? I didn’t think hobbits were so… paranoid. *he sighs sadly* Ah, war changes us all…
Sam lifted his hand for him to wait. “Who are you?”
The stranger smiled. “I am Alatar the Blue, a Wizard of Aman. I believe you befriended
one of my Order, a wizard named Gandalf the White. Did he not mention me?”
“He never said anything about you,” Sam answered.
MG: True enough (though I wonder why Alatar is calling Gandalf “the White” – he’d have still been “the Grey” when Alatar knew him, after all). Per the Unfinished Tales “Alatar and Pallando” were one set of names Tolkien considered giving to the Blue Wizards (another being “Morinehtar and Romestamo”; per The Nature of Middle-earth, their original Maiar names may have been “Palacendo” and “Haimenar,” though it’s not 100% clear those are meant to be the same people). And of course, LotR itself has Saruman refer to the “Five Wizards,” canonizing the number of the Istari (though Polychron may not have gotten that memo, as we’ll see…) and leaving two spots open after himself, Gandalf and Radagast (though Sam, of course, wasn’t there to hear him say that; Merry and Pippin were, though). Of course, most of what Tolkien wrote about the Blue Wizards is fragmentary and contradictory (so much so that the Jackson Hobbit movies poked fun at it), but more on that in later chapters when we learn more about Alatar and what he’s been up to.
“Sam,” Theo said. Few hobbits addressed her father like Merry and Pippin’s children.
Shade: The Mayor’s close friends’ children address him differently from how most hobbits do! I am shocked.
“We can’t be sure he’s a wizard. But even if he is, do we want another wizard in the Shire?”
Sonam: Well, one wizard was good and the other horrible, so as for this third one – err on the side of seeing the best in people? That’s what my Master would say.
“I’m sure there were other wizards,” Elanor told them. “It says so in the Red Book.”
Sam looked at her and back out at Alatar. “At least, let’s see that letter then.”
Alatar walked to the window and passed him the thrice folded document. It was secured with thick white wax and at the bottom, it had been impressed with the seal of the High King Elessar: a four-pointed crown set above a white tree. The tree was ringed by seven stars set above the twenty-six points of its branches. Below the bole, it bore thirty-five points on its roots:
Shade: Fancy! And we get an illustration of exactly that!
“That’s from the King,” Rosie said, looking up from the unmistakable emblem.
Shade: Speaking as someone with experience, forgery exists, and I suspect being a wizard would help with that…
Sam stared at the seal and swallowed. For a long minute, no one spoke.
“Well… open it!” Elanor told him.
MG: Little does Elanor know that, due to a bureaucratic mix-up in Minas Tirith, Alatar was accidentally sent with instructions to enroll Sam in the “Jelly of the Month” Club.
Sam hesitated. He knew whatever the contents, the minute he read them, his life would be forever changed.
Sonam: *taken aback* Really? I mean, this is a rather unusual occurrence, but that seems rather dramatic…
After waiting far too long for his family’s tastes, he broke the seal and unfolded the letter. Rosie, Elanor, Theo and Fastred crowded around to read over his shoulder:
THE PALACE OF ANOR, MINAS TIRITH, KINGDOMS OF ARNOR & GONDOR
Shade: By the Four! Minas Tirith has grown so vast it now occupies two entirely separate countries! What has Aragorn been doing there?
Loremaster’s Headache: 15 (while Minas Tirith is now the capital of a unified Gondor and Arnor, it should only go without saying that the city itself is in Gondor, and nowhere near Arnor)
March 15, Fourth Age 22, Shire Year 1442
My Dearest Sam,
Alatar the Blue, a Wizard of Gandalf’s order, has come to Gondor from out of the East bearing grave and perilous news. I believed the matter of the Rings of Power had been resolved by your and Frodo’s heroic efforts in Mordor, where you unmade the One, followed by the Three carried by their Keepers to the Grey Havens sailing West over the sea.
Sonam: I do believe Aragorn is missing a word or two there, because that does not parse quite right to me… also, I’d thought that the surviving Rings of Power lost their magic when the One was destroyed. Was… was that wrong?
MG: Brother Sonam… you have no idea…
Rings-A-Palooza: 3
It is a difficult and grievous thing for a King to admit, who wishes only to protect his people, but Alatar has shown me proofs I was mistaken.
Shade: And those same proofs can be yours for a small payment of gold per month…
I dare not explain more in this letter. You can trust the words of Alatar. He is wise and learned in many things that have been hidden from us in the far east, beyond the borders of Rhûn, and he has much to share with you.
MG: “Far to the East” being canonically where the Blue Wizards went, and why they never showed up in LotR, so… yay for that?
As your King, I must ask you to aid his efforts, as difficult and unseemly as some of them will undoubtedly be for you. Take heart. I will give you any and all the aid I can.
Sonam: …is Aragorn telling Sam he may have to perform evil deeds if Alatar wants him to? That doesn’t seem right… are we sure Aragorn wrote this?
Feel My Edge: 1
As your friend, please Sam, we must finish this business we started long ago. Not only for ourselves, but for our children, and our children’s children. We must send away or unmake any Rings of Power remaining in the whole of Middle-earth.
Shade: Well, the One was destroyed, the Three are gone, and all the others lost their power… so it sounds like the job’s done, then! Phew, I was worried there it was going to be something hard!
Happy Ending Override: 2
Loremaster’s Headache: 16
Rings-A-Palooza: 4
In Eternal Friendship,
High King of the United Kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor
Below the firm signature, this time pressed in ink, the letter again displayed the emblems of his Reign: the firmly rooted and branching crowned white tree surmounted by seven stars:
Sonam: …I might be wrong, but I thought that was the emblem of Gondor in general, not Aragorn personally?
MG: Well, the emblem of the House of Elendil, technically, but yeah, it’s not Aragorn’s personal coat of arms or anything.
Sam swallowed again and lowered the letter.
“Come inside,” he said to Alatar, then turned to Theo. “See to his horse.”
Shade: *Theo* We, uh, don’t have a stable around here for a horse that size, but sure, I’ll get right on that.
Theo started to climb out through the open window again.
Suddenly self-conscious, Sam tapped his shoulder and pointed for him to use the door.
He went behind Theo with his family – to welcome Alatar to Bag End.
Shade: *flatly* Look. It’s funny. Ha ha. Listen to me laughing.
MG: Well, in any case, that’s it for the first chapter! This was a short one – by far the shortest in the whole fic, iirc - and not a whole lot happened beyond Alatar showing up. Like the prologue, this one was kind of awkwardly written but not terrible terrible; I’ve certainly seen worse *shudders*. On the other hand, it really can’t help but feel like it’s just regurgitating story beats from LotR and The Hobbit, since now we’ve had a wizard show up at Bag End on the eve of an important party to recruit some hobbits on an epic quest… where have we seen that before… Sam also feels a bit off here, which I’m afraid is going to be a recurring problem; Polychron doesn’t really go out of his way to derail Sam the way he does some characters, but I don’t think he’s got a good handle on him, either. Next time, though, is when things are going to start to get weird, since that’s when Alatar is going to be explaining why he’s here and what’s going on, and it’s when the fic’s process of truly going off the rails begins. We’ll see you them! Our counts stand at:
Expansion-Pack World: 1
Feel My Edge: 1
Happy Ending Override: 2
Linguistic Confusions: 2
Loremaster’s Headache: 16
Pervy Hobbit Fanciers: 5
Plot-Induced Stupidity: 1
Rings-a-Palooza: 4
Take That, Tolkien!: 1
Traveling at the Speed of Plot: 4
MG: Well, everyone, it’s time to continue our journey through Demetrious Polychron’s, er, masterpiece, The Fellowship of the King! Last time, we met Elanor and got some infodumping, some of it accurate, and some of it containing… dubious assertions. Today, we begin the story proper, as a visitor arrives at Bag End with important business to attend to! First off, it’s time to meet our final two sporkers for this fic, who’ll be joining us today! Like their companions from last time, they’ve been given basic information on Middle-earth to make their jobs easier.
*two figures materialize in the sporking chamber. The first is a half-elf woman in practical but stylish clothing, lounging roguishly in her chair. The other is a young human man in blue robes, with a shaved head and an earnest expression*
Half-Elf: Well. Hello, all. Shade, at your service. *she grins irreverently* Or not, as it were. We’ll see how things go… I’ve been called a thief, a scoundrel, and an all-around troublemaker; prefer to think of myself as a lady of fortune. Not really from anywhere to speak of, but I’ve been a lot of places; joined the underground in Gate Pass on a lark, tweaking the Ragesians’ noses seemed fun, then the damned emperor had to go get himself killed and the world fell apart. What’re the odds? But that’s old news. I’m mostly here because this story sounded stupid and snarking about it sounded fun. Wouldn’t mind some of that popcorn I’ve heard about, either…
Robed Man: *smiling* And I am Sonam – Brother Sonam, that is, Adept of the West Wind, serving under Master Longinus at the Monastery of Two Winds. My Master and his brother, Master Pilus, sent me out into the world among others in the aftermath of the Emperor’s death to learn what we could and to minister to those in need – for we are, above all dedicated to peace among all peoples. *he sighs sadly* Not that I’ve seen much of that lately… in any event, this was not what I was expecting to be doing, but we cannot control what fate sends out way, and I can only hope this will be an enlightening experience!
Shade: *munching on popcorn from a bowl she acquired from… somewhere* Oh, you poor, naïve boy…
MG: Anyway, with the pleasantries out of the way, let’s get started! First off, like LotR itself, FotK is divided internally into Books, in this case two Books of twelve chapters each. We’re presently about to start Book One; neither book is titled.
Chapter One: The Night Before A Party
Shade: …this sounds riveting. *rolls her eyes*
MG: Well, it’s clearly in the tradition of the opening chapters of The Hobbit and LotR – “An Unexpected Party” and “A Long-Expected Party,” respectively. On the other hand, between this title (and a few others that also feel like callbacks to LotR chapter titles) and the two-Book-per-volume structure, it really does feel like Polychron is working a little too hard to sell this as the totally legitimate follow-up to LotR and considering what actually happened IRL… whoops.
Late afternoon sunshine flooded the meadows of the Hill with a pleasant glow. Bright blossoming snap-dragons, sunflowers and nasturtiums filled the open fields and covered the green turf walls of Bag End. A stone-lined path led to a large round door at the main entrance.
Sonam: Well, that’s actually rather pleasant, so far! I do like the flowers… our monastery’s up in the mountains, so we don’t have as many of them as I’d like.
In a small sitting room adorned with a large open window sat Rosie Gamgee Gardner, as the hobbits of the Four Farthings called her,
Shade: In Umbar she was more often known as Bloody Rosie, Scourge of Belfalas, but that wasn’t a part of her life she liked to talk about…
on account of all the planting her husband, the Honorable Mayor of the Shire (HMS) Samwise Gamgee Gardner had done.
Sonam: Did we really need the initials after the title? Did Polychron just think we wouldn’t figure it out if he didn’t spell it out for us? …oh dear, if that’s what he thinks of his readers’ intelligence, that doesn’t bode well for the rest of this story…
Sipping tea beside her was her oldest daughter Elanor ‘the Fair,’ as folks called her, on account of her uncommon good looks.
MG: Actually, while Elanor was supposed to be very pretty, “the Fair” refers to her hair-color, not her attractiveness! Blonde hair is unusual for hobbits!
Loremaster’s Headache: 12
Despite these handicaps,
Shade: Please tell me this is just a joke and we’re going to do the whole ‘woe is me, I’m so beautiful it’s a curse!’ routine. *beat* Although, if the poor girl already has gross older men drooling all over her… Elanor, if you need them, my blades are yours. Since it’s your birthday, I’ll even give you a discount!
Sonam: *shocked* I don’t think such a nice young hobbit-lass wants to put a hit on someone for her birthday, Shade!
Shade: *shrugs* Well, if she does… I’m here.
Elanor was a kind, if outspoken hobbit given to laughter, pleasant whimsy and occasional disagreements with her siblings.
Shade: Ugh; please tell me this isn’t going to get any more saccharine soon… my tolerance for that isn’t high.
Helping her parents raise their ever-growing family, she loved to cook with her mother, creating new recipes and serving them up.
MG: I’d think she’d be more likely to cook with her father, considering we’re explicitly told in canon that while all hobbits learn to cook from an early age, Sam is a very good cook even by hobbit standards and is shown to enjoy it, and it seems like something he’d want to share with his daughter. I mean, Rosie very well might too, but in context it’s just kind of weird to ignore Sam like that regarding a skill he’s canonically known for…
While the others cleaned and tidied, she and her father would retire to his den. There, the two of them alone poured over the pages of ‘The Red Book Of The Westmarch’ which he’d been working on laboriously since just after she was born.
Sam had made sure that Elanor and the rest of his children received a far superior
education than he ever had. As a farmer and a gardener, he had been lucky his father’s employer Bilbo Baggins had taught him to read and form his letters.
MG: I mean, the impression I always got was that Sam got a much better education than is typical for a Shire hobbit, courtesy of Bilbo – for one, I don’t think most hobbits can casually pull (translated) Elven poetry appropriate to the occasion from memory on short notice; Sam can. And even being literate is noted to be unusual for hobbits (though those who are write to one another constantly, hence why the Shire has an official postal service). And as much as I love Sam, I don’t think he was ever as learned as Bilbo himself, so I’m not sure how he’s guaranteeing his kids get a better education than he himself got, unless he’s hiring tutors out of Gondor or somewhere.
The task of recording the historic events he’d witnessed and making corrections to the writings of much more learned hobbits, like Bilbo and Frodo Baggins, Bilbo’s adopted heir to whom he’d left Bag End, proved less than an honor and more of a monumental chore.
Sonam: …where I come from, copying the writings of our learned sages is considered a great honor. And I would think Sam, who knew Frodo and Bilbo and greatly respected both, would feel the same! *beat* And just what has he been doing with this text for years? I’d thought Frodo left it in a mostly complete state, with Sam’s chief contribution being the ending…
When still quite young, Elanor began supplying small and careful suggestions, which Sam eagerly incorporated into the manuscripts.
Shade: …because when writing a very serious historical text, regarding events of which you personally were a part, clearly including your toddler’s suggestions is the most important thing! Isn’t that how all great literature is written?
Although he swore Elanor to secrecy, as not to upset the others.
Sonam: …I do think it might be a bit of a problem, if people knew that a small child was contributing to this vitally important text…
Their father-daughter time was a special bond only they shared. She was especially proud of this and more than happy to keep their secret.
“Are you paying attention?” Rosie asked.
Elanor realized her mind had wandered. “I’m sorry, mum. What did you say?”
Shade: Actually, Rosie was just as glad her daughter hadn’t been paying attention, as she’d accidentally let slip a reference to her time in Umbar and really didn’t want to have to explain that today…
“Tomorrow your father is staying home from Michael Delving,” Rosie answered.
MG: Okay, maybe it’s just the wording, but that makes it sound like most days, Sam does travel from Bag End to Michel Delving. And, okay, Michel Delving is the closest thing the Shire has to a capital, and where the Mayor is elected and presumably works, but… it’s about sixty miles from there to Hobbiton. That’s a wee bit long for a daily two-way commute with pre-modern travel technology (ie, for the Shire, probably a cart pulled by ponies), don’t you think? Maybe that’s not what Polychron mean to imply, but if he did, I don’t think he thought the logistics of it out…
Loremaster’s Headache: 14 (one point for the distance between Hobbiton and Michel Delving, one point because it is indeed Michel Delving, not Michael)
Traveling at the Speed of Plot: 3 (for Samwise the Fastest Commuter Ever)
“Tonight we expect guests before sundown.”
Excitement fluttered Elanor’s stomach. “When will the Tooks and Brandybucks arrive?”
Sonam: All of them? By my reckoning, that would be several hundred guests at least! By the West Wind, no wonder Sam bought the whole Hill – he’d have nowhere else to fit them all otherwise!
Her father walked out onto the Sun drenched sitting room and kissed her cheek. “They won’t be here until tomorrow morning. I’m giving them and their guests the lower tunnels.”
Sonam: As I suspected!
“What about the Greenholms?” she asked.
“They’re already at your uncle Tom’s farm,” Sam answered. “I expect them, the Cottons
and that scamp Fastred will be joining us for dinner.”
“Miss a free meal?” Fastred asked. He was hurrying up the Hill beside his best friend
Théoden Brandybuck, who everyone called Theo.
The two of them looked at each other and chimed in together, “Not if we can help it!”
Shade: Boys, boys. I respect your commitment to getting free food, but can you please try to sound less rehearsed? People will start to catch on.
Theo took after his father Merry with curly brown hair, and he was larger and stronger than most other hobbits, except for his younger brother Boromir, who everyone called Ronny, and Pippin’s son Faramir, who everyone called Remy. Fastred and Theo had been born the same year and were of an age with Elanor.
Sonam: Did we really need to get everyone’s nicknames, one after the other, in the exact same fashion? I think Polychron really is holding our hands… I do suppose everyone being the same age is convenient, though?
MG: Also, “Remy” just makes me think of Gambit as a hobbit; bizarre. Also, how exactly do you get “Ronny and Remy” out of “Boromir and Faramir?” Then again, “Pippin” isn’t obviously short for “Peregrin,” either…
“Young Masters Brandybuck and Greenholm!” Rosie exclaimed, rising from the table.
Shade: …care to explain why you sound like you barely know two of your daughter’s closest friends and her maybe-boyfriend there, Rosie? I’m waiting.
She delighted seeing any of the Tooks, Brandybucks or Greenholms, but she had a special fondness for Fastred. He was Rosie’s favorite hobbit to whom she wasn’t already related.
Sonam: *taken aback* Is she keeping score? How… odd...
‘Cu-clump, cu-clump, cu-clump’ came deep, ominous sounds of approaching hooves.
Shade: No, be reasonable! Clearly, whoever it is just has two empty halves of coconuts and are banging them together! Works every time!
Sam knew those sounds. They weren’t made by ponies. Those came from larger horses
usually only ridden by Men. Once long ago, they had heralded the approach of Black Riders.
Shade: Finally. The sudden arrival of undead wraiths should break the monotony of this obnoxiously domestic scene nicely.
Sonam: …I was going to say that it barely feels like we’ve established our scene before the action begins, which makes it hard to feel invested, but clearly some of us disagree…
“Did you invite some of the Big Folk… from Bree?” Rosie asked.
“It wouldn’t surprise me if some of our friends heard about the party and came,” Sam answered, shaking his head. He tried to figure who he might know who would dare break the King’s Law, coming to the Shire uninvited.
Shade: As it happens, poor Barliman Butterbur never meant to break the law, but he’d invented a new beer he simply had to share with his friends in the Shire, and one thing led to another…
“It must be a surprise from the Thain or Master!”
Sonam: You mean your friends Pippin and Merry, don’t you, Sam? Who, last I checked, were hobbits and not Men – oh, dear, they’ve been at the Ent-draughts again, haven’t they?
A magnificent large gray horse rounded the bottom of the Hill. On its back rode the most unusually dressed Man that Elanor had ever seen: he wore billowing robes of a brilliant deep sea blue.
Sonam: *glances down at his own blue robes, feeling hurt*
Though worn and weathered, they glinted here and there, run through with strands of silver. The bunching fabric and gray-white gleams gave the impression of breaking waves, capped with foam. Above his beard and shaggy mane of silver-streaked black hair was a similarly colored wide-brimmed hat. Rising high above his head, it covered his helm. Open at the front, his robes revealed a blue and silver leaf-mail shirt with studs, and below his belt were matching leg covers.
His leathers and regalia were stained in the same dark blue and silver colors. Sheathed in his saddle was a long, blue and silver-handled sword. Strapped above them, closest to the hand of the rider, lay a long and strangely gnarled wooden staff.
Shade: *bored* Let me guess. It’s hard, but from that description, I think that this person might just be… a wizard! *mocking gasp* What do I win?
MG: And I also can’t help but note that Gandalf mostly looked like a rather ragged vagabond when he traveled, without much hint of his true stature. Alatar here is fancy. Somehow, I doubt that was a coincidence…
Take That, Tolkien!: 1
Fastred and Theo shouted in surprise. They started down the path to where they had been let through by the young hobbit standing guard named Sandro.
Shade: Oh, yes, run towards the direction the mysterious stranger is coming from, that will work wonders!
“Come into the house!” Sam shouted.
Responding immediately, they doubled back and climbed through the open window.
Standing behind him, they shielded Rosie and Elanor.
MG: Okay, is it just me, or is the image of Fastred and Theo literally piling in through the windows to escape a wizard who hasn’t said or done anything remotely threatening yet just a little over-the-top? For that matter, why is Sam automatically assuming the clear and obvious wizard is a threat? Sure, Saruman was, but Gandalf was always a friend to the hobbits, and Sam knew Gandalf well; one would think he wouldn’t immediately assume a wizard was an enemy. Finally… the Shire is not unprotected, especially now. Though self-governing, it’s still technically part of the Reunited Kingdom, and under the King’s protection. It also has both Bounders to watch the borders and Shiriffs to patrol the Shire itself, both of which work for… the Mayor. Which is to say, Sam himself. Hobbiton is in the middle of the Shire, and Alatar kind of sticks out. And yet Sam has somehow had absolutely no word that he’s here? Was Alatar riding through so fast he literally outpaced even the rumor of himself? It feels a little off, is all I’m saying.
Plot-Induced Stupidity: 1 (why is everyone randomly panicking at the sight of the wizard?)
Traveling at the Speed of Plot: 4
The rider reined his horse. He bent down and spoke to the unarmed and rather frightened young hobbit. After a brief exchange, the rider produced a folded document. Sandro read the cover and touched the seal. Turning to Sam, he waved the letter frantically over his head.
Sonam: *Sandro* Mister Mayor, he wants to know if we’ve heard the good word of Orome the Hunter, and I think he’s got a full presentation prepared! How do I tell him we’re not interested before he gets started… oh, too late!
To Sam’s eyes, the rider didn’t have the villainess look of any of the nefarious people he’d encountered, or the Black Riders that had once invaded their lands.
Shade: Well, of course he doesn’t look villainess, he’s a man! I think the word you’re looking for is “villainous.”
The horseman’s patient stance, and Sandro’s desperate waving, assured him this might be a messenger from Rohan or Gondor. The staff had made him curious.
Sonam: *kindly* Master Sandro, I know you’re new at this, but I would strongly recommend you read that book your employer is working on. It might explain some things.
With a look back to ensure Rosie and Elanor were safe, he motioned for Sandro to let the rider through.
The horsemen rode at a brisk walking pace and stopped before he got too close. Slowly dismounting, he unstrapped his staff and used it as a walking stick.
Shade: As opposed to what, mounting on it and flying away on it?
In his other hand, he carried the sealed document. When he reached a respectful distance, he stopped.
“Greetings, most Honorable Mayor of the Shire, Samwise Gamgee Gardner,” the stranger said. He held up the folded parchment.
MG: …somehow, I don’t think addressing Sam by his full, rather pompous title is going to put him more at ease, here.
“I come from the High King Elessar in Minas Tirith on an urgent mission. This is my letter of safe passage, and request of aid, from the King.”
Theo stepped up even with Sam and caught his eye, to say he’d fetch the letter, if Sam
wanted to have a look.
Sonam: Is… is there any particular reason Sam can’t see the letter himself? Is Theo worried it might be trapped? I didn’t think hobbits were so… paranoid. *he sighs sadly* Ah, war changes us all…
Sam lifted his hand for him to wait. “Who are you?”
The stranger smiled. “I am Alatar the Blue, a Wizard of Aman. I believe you befriended
one of my Order, a wizard named Gandalf the White. Did he not mention me?”
“He never said anything about you,” Sam answered.
MG: True enough (though I wonder why Alatar is calling Gandalf “the White” – he’d have still been “the Grey” when Alatar knew him, after all). Per the Unfinished Tales “Alatar and Pallando” were one set of names Tolkien considered giving to the Blue Wizards (another being “Morinehtar and Romestamo”; per The Nature of Middle-earth, their original Maiar names may have been “Palacendo” and “Haimenar,” though it’s not 100% clear those are meant to be the same people). And of course, LotR itself has Saruman refer to the “Five Wizards,” canonizing the number of the Istari (though Polychron may not have gotten that memo, as we’ll see…) and leaving two spots open after himself, Gandalf and Radagast (though Sam, of course, wasn’t there to hear him say that; Merry and Pippin were, though). Of course, most of what Tolkien wrote about the Blue Wizards is fragmentary and contradictory (so much so that the Jackson Hobbit movies poked fun at it), but more on that in later chapters when we learn more about Alatar and what he’s been up to.
“Sam,” Theo said. Few hobbits addressed her father like Merry and Pippin’s children.
Shade: The Mayor’s close friends’ children address him differently from how most hobbits do! I am shocked.
“We can’t be sure he’s a wizard. But even if he is, do we want another wizard in the Shire?”
Sonam: Well, one wizard was good and the other horrible, so as for this third one – err on the side of seeing the best in people? That’s what my Master would say.
“I’m sure there were other wizards,” Elanor told them. “It says so in the Red Book.”
Sam looked at her and back out at Alatar. “At least, let’s see that letter then.”
Alatar walked to the window and passed him the thrice folded document. It was secured with thick white wax and at the bottom, it had been impressed with the seal of the High King Elessar: a four-pointed crown set above a white tree. The tree was ringed by seven stars set above the twenty-six points of its branches. Below the bole, it bore thirty-five points on its roots:
Shade: Fancy! And we get an illustration of exactly that!
“That’s from the King,” Rosie said, looking up from the unmistakable emblem.
Shade: Speaking as someone with experience, forgery exists, and I suspect being a wizard would help with that…
Sam stared at the seal and swallowed. For a long minute, no one spoke.
“Well… open it!” Elanor told him.
MG: Little does Elanor know that, due to a bureaucratic mix-up in Minas Tirith, Alatar was accidentally sent with instructions to enroll Sam in the “Jelly of the Month” Club.
Sam hesitated. He knew whatever the contents, the minute he read them, his life would be forever changed.
Sonam: *taken aback* Really? I mean, this is a rather unusual occurrence, but that seems rather dramatic…
After waiting far too long for his family’s tastes, he broke the seal and unfolded the letter. Rosie, Elanor, Theo and Fastred crowded around to read over his shoulder:
THE PALACE OF ANOR, MINAS TIRITH, KINGDOMS OF ARNOR & GONDOR
Shade: By the Four! Minas Tirith has grown so vast it now occupies two entirely separate countries! What has Aragorn been doing there?
Loremaster’s Headache: 15 (while Minas Tirith is now the capital of a unified Gondor and Arnor, it should only go without saying that the city itself is in Gondor, and nowhere near Arnor)
March 15, Fourth Age 22, Shire Year 1442
My Dearest Sam,
Alatar the Blue, a Wizard of Gandalf’s order, has come to Gondor from out of the East bearing grave and perilous news. I believed the matter of the Rings of Power had been resolved by your and Frodo’s heroic efforts in Mordor, where you unmade the One, followed by the Three carried by their Keepers to the Grey Havens sailing West over the sea.
Sonam: I do believe Aragorn is missing a word or two there, because that does not parse quite right to me… also, I’d thought that the surviving Rings of Power lost their magic when the One was destroyed. Was… was that wrong?
MG: Brother Sonam… you have no idea…
Rings-A-Palooza: 3
It is a difficult and grievous thing for a King to admit, who wishes only to protect his people, but Alatar has shown me proofs I was mistaken.
Shade: And those same proofs can be yours for a small payment of gold per month…
I dare not explain more in this letter. You can trust the words of Alatar. He is wise and learned in many things that have been hidden from us in the far east, beyond the borders of Rhûn, and he has much to share with you.
MG: “Far to the East” being canonically where the Blue Wizards went, and why they never showed up in LotR, so… yay for that?
As your King, I must ask you to aid his efforts, as difficult and unseemly as some of them will undoubtedly be for you. Take heart. I will give you any and all the aid I can.
Sonam: …is Aragorn telling Sam he may have to perform evil deeds if Alatar wants him to? That doesn’t seem right… are we sure Aragorn wrote this?
Feel My Edge: 1
As your friend, please Sam, we must finish this business we started long ago. Not only for ourselves, but for our children, and our children’s children. We must send away or unmake any Rings of Power remaining in the whole of Middle-earth.
Shade: Well, the One was destroyed, the Three are gone, and all the others lost their power… so it sounds like the job’s done, then! Phew, I was worried there it was going to be something hard!
Happy Ending Override: 2
Loremaster’s Headache: 16
Rings-A-Palooza: 4
In Eternal Friendship,
High King of the United Kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor
Below the firm signature, this time pressed in ink, the letter again displayed the emblems of his Reign: the firmly rooted and branching crowned white tree surmounted by seven stars:
Sonam: …I might be wrong, but I thought that was the emblem of Gondor in general, not Aragorn personally?
MG: Well, the emblem of the House of Elendil, technically, but yeah, it’s not Aragorn’s personal coat of arms or anything.
Sam swallowed again and lowered the letter.
“Come inside,” he said to Alatar, then turned to Theo. “See to his horse.”
Shade: *Theo* We, uh, don’t have a stable around here for a horse that size, but sure, I’ll get right on that.
Theo started to climb out through the open window again.
Suddenly self-conscious, Sam tapped his shoulder and pointed for him to use the door.
He went behind Theo with his family – to welcome Alatar to Bag End.
Shade: *flatly* Look. It’s funny. Ha ha. Listen to me laughing.
MG: Well, in any case, that’s it for the first chapter! This was a short one – by far the shortest in the whole fic, iirc - and not a whole lot happened beyond Alatar showing up. Like the prologue, this one was kind of awkwardly written but not terrible terrible; I’ve certainly seen worse *shudders*. On the other hand, it really can’t help but feel like it’s just regurgitating story beats from LotR and The Hobbit, since now we’ve had a wizard show up at Bag End on the eve of an important party to recruit some hobbits on an epic quest… where have we seen that before… Sam also feels a bit off here, which I’m afraid is going to be a recurring problem; Polychron doesn’t really go out of his way to derail Sam the way he does some characters, but I don’t think he’s got a good handle on him, either. Next time, though, is when things are going to start to get weird, since that’s when Alatar is going to be explaining why he’s here and what’s going on, and it’s when the fic’s process of truly going off the rails begins. We’ll see you them! Our counts stand at:
Expansion-Pack World: 1
Feel My Edge: 1
Happy Ending Override: 2
Linguistic Confusions: 2
Loremaster’s Headache: 16
Pervy Hobbit Fanciers: 5
Plot-Induced Stupidity: 1
Rings-a-Palooza: 4
Take That, Tolkien!: 1
Traveling at the Speed of Plot: 4